remembering to trust

Two and a half weeks ago, I found out I was pregnant for the second time in my life. I was surprised at how excited I was over this unplanned pregnancy, but couldn’t quite get rid of a nagging concern in the back of my head.

When I had our first son, I had endured a very difficult pregnancy that ended in a pre-term emergency cesarean birth for my son. Only by the grace of God was my child born healthy, though drastically underweight.

Throughout the first two trimesters of my son’s pregnancy, I was horribly sick. “Morning sickness” plagued me all day, every day. At the worst of it, I was getting sick 5 and 6 times a day; I lost 8 pounds in my first trimester, which may not seem like much, but I started my pregnancy at 115 pounds, so losing 8 pounds was essentially 7% of my body weight. Around the beginning of my third trimester, the “morning sickness” waned, though I still continued to get sick a couple times a week until my pregnancy was nearly over.

At that point, I thought I could relax for a couple months until I got to meet my sweet little boy. Unfortunately, that was when other problems came to light. To make a long story short, my placenta had stopped functioning and my child was essentially starving to death in my womb. After a whirlwind of events, my son was taken from my womb in my 35^th week. A little more than a month early, my little man came out weighing a meager 3lbs8oz. He was tiny. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, but he miraculously came out perfectly healthy. We were able to bring him home at ten days old and were so grateful to God for His mercy when we came so very close to losing our baby boy.

When everything was said and done, I was told by the doctors that while we knew that my placenta had failed, they didn’t know why; because they didn’t know why, they didn’t know if I would have this problem with future pregnancies or not. For years, I have secretly dreaded another pregnancy. When people would ask when we were going to grow our family, I would laugh it off and say, “not anytime soon,” or “it’s in God’s hands,” while inside I prayed I would not have to ever endure anything like that again.

However, it really was in God’s hands and here I sit, pregnant again. The joy I first felt with the positive test was quickly replaced by nausea. The morning sickness had set in even sooner than the first pregnancy and was quickly escalating to the heights of the first. Over the span of two weeks, I had already lost my appetite, multiple meals and 2.5 pounds.

By this past Friday evening, after getting sick for the 10^th time in less than 48 hours, I was a mess. The nagging concern that had been in the back of my head become a screaming fear I couldn’t quiet. What if it’s happening again? What if I can’t carry full term? What if I have to have another c-section? What if this baby isn’t fully developed upon early delivery? What if this pregnancy isn’t the part of the 3% that is born underweight but the much larger percent that doesn’t survive this complication?

These thoughts made a repetitive chorus in my head, distracted only by the occasional cry to God for His mercy to not make me go through this again. Then, yesterday morning, as I was lying on the couch, crippled by nausea, I suddenly had a change in my thoughts. Even if I had to endure another pregnancy like that, or worse, is in not still in God’s hands?

The conviction hit hard. I had professed trusting in God, but in the secret places in my heart, I had allowed worry to push out the trust. I had allowed my fears to push out the truth the God does not change with my circumstances. He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow, regardless of what occurs with this pregnancy. He knew before I was pregnant exactly how this pregnancy would play out and He chose to place this life in my womb.

“Children are an heritage of the Lord; the fruit of the womb is a gift.” Psalm 127:3

How ungrateful of me to not accept this gift with open hands, but with fear and trepidation. What if it’s happening again? God is in control. What if I can’t carry full term? God is in control. What if I have to have another c-section? God is in control. What if the baby isn’t fully developed upon early delivery? God is in control. What if this pregnancy isn’t the part of the 3% that is born underweight but the much larger percent that doesn’t survive this complication? God is in control.

Late yesterday afternoon, the nausea gave way to an appetite. Today, I am feeling well again. Maybe prayers have been answered and the “morning sickness” has passed, maybe it’s just a break before another round of illness, maybe I will endure the rest of my pregnancy without complications, maybe entirely different complications will arise this pregnancy. However, all the “maybe’s” in the world won’t change the one thing I can put my trust in: God is in control.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, through prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7

my blog is not cool...

...and that's ok. I have thought multiple times about putting in the time and effort it takes to make my blog up to standards for the modern blogging world. But you know what? I am just too tired to care that much. I have so many other things throughout my day that I have to deal with, so many details and choices, that I just don't have the energy to care about switching fonts and colors through my posts and having a super-cute and personalized format. I like those things and I really, really want to care about those things, but I just can't.  If I do, then I am left with no energy to compose sentences. If that happens, what is the point of my blogging at all? My blog is not cool, but it is me, take it or leave it. (If that makes me uncool, I am ok with that, too; I have never really cared about being cool...)

sunrise, sunrise...

Have you ever watched the sunrise at the Grand Canyon? I have. It is quite possibly one of the most beautiful experiences I have ever had. It has been nearly 4 years since that morning, but the details are still so vivid in my head, it feels like it was just the other day.

When my husband and I married, we decided to take a Route 66 road trip to California for our honeymoon. Our plan was to just experience the road as it came to us, with only a few "have to do/see" things on the list. We spent half the honeymoon camping in various spots across the country (we also spent a night in the Wigwam Motel in Holbrook, Az.) My favorite spot was the Grand Canyon.

I lived in Arizona for the first 13 years of my life and never saw the Grand Canyon. I told my husband when we were on our honeymoon, we had to go because we would be so close. I wanted to see the sunset and the sunrise at the Grand Canyon.

Our first glimpse of the Canyon was just before the sun began to set. Unfortunately, our vantage point did not offer much in the way of an amazing sunset, but the scenery was breathtaking. I wanted to stay there forever. It was even more wonderful than I had always imagined it to be. I was very eager to see the sunrise the following morning.

After a wonderful evening by the campfire chatting with a lovely German couple we met, we set the alarm for an early rise and I went to bed as anxious as a child for Christmas morning. I was woken before my alarm to a horse walking around the campground. I had not realized there were horses living free in the Canyon and was very excited to be greeted by that.

I stirred my husband and we drove from our campground to a local lookout point. What we first thought would be a perfect location for watching the show quickly became overcrowded by a very noisy group of international tourists. Rather than allowing them to take away from the beauty and serenity of it all with their incessant chatter, we drove to a lookout spot that was actually just a cliff. No rails, no sidewalks, no people.

We crawled down the side of the cliff and found a rock that made for a good seat. The next 45 minutes or so were filled with awe as we watched the sun wake the Canyon. As the sun rose higher and higher, the colors became more and more vibrant, bursting with life. The Colorado River glistened in the morning light, beckoning the wildlife for a cool morning drink. The cool morning air slowly warmed as birds took flight to the sky. The only noises we heard were those from the Canyon waking or the occasional exclamation of amazement that slipped from our lips. It was as though we were the only two people in the world and all that beauty was handcrafted just for us. It was everything I had always hoped for and more. I couldn't stop praising God for the beauty of His creation and the perfection of that moment.

I was going to share a picture, but none of the ones I have do it justice. To be fair, my words don't do it justice either. It is just a memory I love to revisit often, because it is so perfectly beautiful. I pray I will again have an opportunity to see the sunrise at the Grand Canyon. (I could very easily be a morning person if I could see that every morning.)

Tuesday, June 26, 2012. (creative title, I know...)

Back again. Staring at this empty screen trying to figure out how to reconcile my head with my heart and use it to create a coherent sentence. Fighting off the desire to excuse yet another lengthy absence. Wondering if anyone will even read what I have taken the time to force upon the keyboard.

Meh.

I hate when I don't write on a regular basis. The more time that passes, the more pressure I feel to write something amazing. WARNING: If you are looking for amazing, you will be disappointed.

I, however, am amazed at how my brain seems to quiet itself only upon preparing to write an entry. Thousands of thoughts flitter through my head on a daily basis, jumping from topic to topic, but I get on here and I have nothing.

Well, nothing is not entirely true. There are still many thoughts, but the ability to share them seems beyond me at this moment. There are so many things on my heart, but I am unsure of how to share them without leaving myself too vulnerable. I do not enjoy feeling vulnerable. It scares me. If I think about it too much, my heart begins to race and my palms get all sweaty. I would rather give an impromptu speech to a stadium full of people than feel vulnerable.

Want to hear something ironic? I just deleted everything I had typed after that last sentence because it began to segue into something that made me feel too vulnerable.

Ha! I am ridiculous...

I guess I could talk about the weather. Hot.  Or baseball. Awesome. But they will cover all that in weather and sports on the 10:00 news (happening now in the Central timezone) so I suppose I will leave it to the professionals and put an end to my ramblings...

Lessons from Motherhood

Four years ago, I celebrated my very first Mother's Day with my husband and my 12 day old son, whom had come home from the NICU a couple days prior. I will always remember my first Mother's Day, as I am sure all mothers do. I know I am still a "new" mother in many ways, but I feel I have already learned many valuable lessons over my few years as a mommy. So, in honor of all the mother's who have come before and as an encouragement to those who are following the footsteps, I share with you some of the pearls motherhood has taught me.

Being a mom has taught me...
1. ...how to love and appreciate my body.
I will forever remember the couple weeks after delivering my son. I had delivered via an emergency C-section and continued to wear the gauze "underwear" the hospital had provided to prevent irritation on the gash across my midsection, with these I was still wearing a mattress an extra-large "lady" product to catch the excess blood-flow and extra-thick pads in my nursing bra (when my milk came in, it came in,) showering was only occurring every few days, so I smelled of breast-milk and spit-up; yet, in that moment of feeling the least physically appealing I had ever felt, I was owning my womanhood. My body was amazing to me, it had produced an incredible little person who had stolen my heart the very second I met him. To this day, I have a heightened appreciation and love for my body.
2. ...there really is no use crying over spilt milk. Early in my mothering days, I accidentally spilled 4oz of milk I had just pumped. I began to cry. Then, my husband and I began laughing because I was literally crying over spilt milk. And you know what? The milk was still spilt and the world didn't end. Motherhood is messy. There are exploding diapers, middle of the night vomit-fests, muddy hands, bloody knees and countless pounds of food that end up everywhere but the mouth. In those moments, you put on your big-girl panties, take a deep breath (sometimes hold it,) roll up your sleeves and get messy. Any other response, is just wasted effort.
3. ...to roll with the flow. You can plan and schedule all you want, but you are only in so much control. More times than I can count, my plans/schedule have been messed up by an illness, an accident or some other toddler emergency. My original plan for this Mother's Day weekend: Saturday- clean house, do laundry, pre-cook Sunday's dinner; Sunday- church, relax with my boys, baseball. How my weekend went: Saturday- spend all day taking care of a sick child; Sunday- cleaning, multiple potty-training accidents (involving poo!), a steak dinner (grilled by the hubby) and baseball. Not exactly as planned, but I actually had a great weekend.
4. ...to have a deeper appreciation for my parents. This one was surprising to me, though it shouldn't have been. I have always loved my parents, but I failed to fully appreciate their humanity until I, too, became a parent. Especially during my selfish teenage-years, it was too easy to hold my parents faults against them. They were parents and they should be perfect, after all. But I have come to realize how wrong my thinking was. They are just as human as I. Not only that, but when I think about how much I love my son and how much it would break my heart if he grows up and acts foolishly, I realize that maybe, just maybe, my parents weren't all that wrong in some of their decisions and rules...
5. ...to have a deeper appreciation for Christ. "For God so loved the world, He gave His only Son..." John 3:16 I think of the love I have for my son and it is a gut-wrenching thought to think of losing him. And to give him up for death that others may live? To have him suffer for an undeserving, unappreciative world? I couldn't do that. But God could. Because He loved me so much more than I love my son. Even when I act like a tantruming 3 year old, He loves me.






(I intended to make this cute by putting in pictures, but my blog is being difficult right now, so just text...)

an explanation of sorts...

Been away for awhile again. There is a good reason for my absence, though it may only make sense to me.

My life is full of "fluff." My profession requires me to daily engage in superficial pleasantries and less-than-deep conversations. I have a toddler that goes 90mph from the time his feet hit the floor until bedtime. Many days, I wonder if diapers, dishes, laundry and taking care of the animals are the only hobbies I have. It is very easy for me to get lost in a routine that requires no deep thought.

This blog gives me an outlet for that. I have tried to post the "fluff" blogs and it just leaves me feeling empty. (Disclaimer: I don't think there is anything wrong with the "fluff" blogs. I just have enough fluff in my life, I don't need another spot to fill with it.)

When I come here, I desire to expose a deeper part of my heart.

The last few months, I have been processing a lot of deep thoughts. My heart and mind have been stretched and tried. Many times, I wanted to share, but I just couldn't find the words. I knew I would be left feeling empty if I posted something that wasn't on my heart, so I stayed silent.

Last week, I was listening to a sermon and heard the preacher say, "Sometimes, we need to be silent to be able to learn what we are being taught."  I feel that best explains my silence.

"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

(Friday evening, I went to a retreat with the women of my church. Psalm 46:10 was our verse for the weekend.)

long time, no write

Wow. How long has it been since I have been on here to write? A couple weeks? More? I am not sure.
I have thought about it a couple times, but it never went beyond that. I haven't been spending nearly as much time on the computer as I had been in my "Facebooking" days; with each day that goes by, I find myself with less and less desire to sit in front of the empty glow of the computer screen. The time has been filled, instead, with being more active, spending more time with my husband and son, spending more time with God and, even sitting quietly with nothing but my thoughts to distract me from the silence.
I didn't realize how deeply the Internet had me sucked in; taking a break from Facebook was just the catalyst to reveal that truth.
I was living a pseudo-life through the Internet, forgetting life was speeding by me all the while.
I am not guaranteed tomorrow. I don't want to waste today on the computer.