unexpected

friday, october 12, 2012

1:30 pm

i am exhausted. and hungry. and sleepy. but the house is clean.

my sister will be here soon. she is spending the night. i have a baby shower tomorrow.

david is home from work. we lie across the bed, remark about how tired we are. and hungry. nothing in our house sounds good. olive garden it is.

my gas light is on. we take separate cars so i can fill up before lindsey gets here. sisters always go out shopping, even if it is just to use up a bit of store credit.

 soup, salad and breadsticks for me. panini and soup for him. the waitress messes up his order. twice. we laugh about it. they must be out of mints-none came with our check. i save the receipt. one day i will win a customer service drawing.

3:15 pm

do do do. do do da do do do. do do do. dodo da dod do do.

not going to get that one. i'll check lindsey's voicemail in a second, seeing as how i'm currently "unavailable."

hmm. that's strange. what is that on the floor in here? the cottage walk bathroom is usually very clean.

small gasp. could it be? no. i'm barely 38 weeks. with my luck i'll certainly be a week overdue.

hmm. slight panic. still not convinced. i'm not in any pain.

i give nancy my check for my sam's membership. casually ask about her water breaking.

she panics. do i need to drive you home? you need to go home. to the hospital.

nah, i'm sure it's a false alarm. i only live a few miles away. i'm fine. besides, this looked more like what you see in the movies. everyone says it really isn't like that at all. i'm fine.

3:35 pm

stupid book. why isn't there a separate section, one that is printed on yellow pages or something that says, your water may have broken if. . .

i hand the book to david. find that part. call lee ob, he says. they closed at noon. the recording says to call labor and delivery.

i don't want to. if i do, it will be real. i'm not ready. i'm terrified.

my sister is here. don't tell her. not yet. stall her.

the call drops a minute into it. i call back. come on in, says the nurse.

lindsey, we aren't going shopping.

4:45 pm

i have convinced not one, but two nurses that i am not a victim of domestic violence. no, those aren't marks from physical acts. i'm the idiot who collected some poison ivy while attempting a pinterest project. 37 weeks pregnant and highly allergic.

so, this is what it's like to be in a labor and delivery room. david is here. lindsey is on the couch. grandparents have been called. the frenzy has begun.

contractions aren't fun, not by any means. why are they coming so intensely? and so quickly? aren't first babies usually long labors?

suddenly it is awful. the worst feeling i have ever had. i'm far enough along to get the epidural. sweet, sweet relief.

the grandparents stop by to check in.

and now the nurses want me to relax. i can barely move so that isn't terribly difficult. sleep will not come. i feel short of breath. the medication is too much.

the cosby show is on. neither david nor i are watching. he piddles on his ipad, looking over at me all the time. i look around. doze off for a few minutes at a time every now and then.

11:15 pm

okay, i'm going to get the table ready.

what? are you kidding me? already? that cannot be right. the doctor estimated anytime between midnight and 6 am. i was betting 6 am.

david kisses me. tells me i'm doing great. i can barely feel anything. am i pushing too much? too little? i stare at the clock, wondering if wells will be born today or tomorrow.

saturday, october 13, 2012

it's after midnight. david is standing in front of me in a gown and gloves.

one last push they tell me. i see his head. so much dark hair. dark like mine.

12:09 am

and now david is guiding our baby into this world. our world. our family of three. david has cut the umbilical cord.

i see him. i don't hear him. shouldn't he be crying? the nurses wipe him off a bit. hand him to me as i frantically pull down my gown. skin. my son's and mine. finally touching.

it's time for the one minute apgar. i know they have to take him away, just over to the side for a few minutes.

time slowly ticks by. hushed voices. doctors and nurses somewhat huddling. david walks over.

my son is purple.

my son is purple, not baby pink. new-to-this-world blush.

the doctor has a bag. a mask is over my son's mouth. my heart stops. no. not now. not after all this.

now the nurse anesthesiologist is here. the pediatrician arrives. they are all hoving over my son. my son.

they say his breathing must be stabilized.

was it me? something i did or didn't do? it must be. i make so many mistakes.

i cannot move. if i could i would be fighting the staff for sure, trying to get to him. he should be with me. i can't get this time back. these first few minutes. bond. i want to bond. i need him. i feel empty.

he is given to us for less than a minute. pictures are snapped. then he is gone.

1:00 am

praying. pleading. crying. david assures me it is not my fault. i still feel to blame. somehow.

i lie in the labor and delivery bed. there is a hole in my heart. no official report, but the nurse says he looks better.

2:00 am

i weep. i am so exhausted. i am empty. david assures me all will be fine. we pray.

now we are in the mother/baby room. i do not have a baby. he has been taken away.  my son.

they say wells will be fine. they ran tests. did an xray. started an iv. my son. poked already. without me to hold him.

we might get to see him soon. it's up in the air as to when.

4:00 am

cece, the nurse, checks on me again. i don't care how i am doing. all i want is my son. 

she leaves to get a report from the nursery.

4:20 am

a bassinet has returned with cece. my son. my son!

he is here. really here. in my arms. on my chest. skin. skin to skin. i melt. i sob. i cover him in kisses. i pray. and then he feeds. oh, sweet feeling. connection between us, physically, at last.

we are together: me and wells. mother and child. mom, dad and baby. family of three.

6:00 am

i'm still scared. i am happy. i cry when they take him away. he must still be monitored. this is not in my birth plan.

not my will. i must remember.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

hope. i have hope. my son.

change

where did august and september go? so much has changed in the past two months. . .

we now live in opelika. david has a new job. i'm doing contract work from home.

we are 35 weeks pregnant. yes, in five weeks, give or take, wells will be here.

big changes. important changes. life changes. for someone who doesn't exactly like change in general, it's definitely been very good for me. for us.

david is happy. he loves his job. he enjoys being back "home" again.

i'm glad to no longer be in birmingham. though i do miss work and friends, life is just so much simpler here. not as fast paced. quieter. sweeter.

lots of changes. we're back in a church home. i've joined a bible study group that is doing wonders already. david has joined a men's group. he's taken up crossfit. we've furnished a nursery.

a nursery. our nursery. it still seems so unreal that wells is almost here. back in february, this time felt like it was ages away. not so much anymore. . .

changes. good changes. positive changes. lots of changes.

change can still be scary.

transitioning from a "woman who's expecting" to an actual "mother" is going to be the biggest change yet. never again will life be the same. it excites me. it terrifies me. it reminds me that i cannot do it alone. that i will not be perfect. at all. not even close.

and that's okay.

my first week of bible study, our memory verse was Hebrews 13:8

"Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever."

what a powerful truth: despite my circumstances, He does not change. oh, how comforting it is to read those words, to meditate on that thought.

my verse this week has been just as helpful--Galatians 3:3

"How can you be so foolish? After starting your Christian lives in the Spirit, why are you now trying to become perfect by your own human effort?"

finishing my projects for the nursery these past two weeks has really brought this into perspective again. i can't do anything on my own. i shouldn't do it on my own. i shouldn't shame myself for imperfection. i am not perfect.

time to officially change my mentality: i am an imperfect woman loved by a perfect God.

::wipes brow:: what a relief, huh?

all i can do is my best effort. and that is okay. that is the standard. not perfection.

and with that, it's time to reveal wells's nursery photos, complete with imperfect projects that i love. knowing that wells will be in here soon makes me love it even more.

simply diy project: add patterned paper to the back of a standard bookshelf.

 many thanks to my "roommate" for her decor styling!

 yeah, he has a few books. . . 

 diy project: hubby sanded this dresser (thanks, linda and wally) and painted it.

 comfy chair (thanks, mom and dad)--i foresee a lot of time being spent here

 diy projects: thrift store side table with a coat of paint added to brighten it up

mod podged bottle with baby theme art--adding lights soon

 diy project: felt owl mobile inspired by one i found on etsy. after making it, i now understand why she charges $100 for it. 

 my dad made the changing pad holder :)

(we have yet to hang anything on the walls--i tend to be indecisive when it comes to these things)

so there you have it: the beginning of the next major change.

change is good.

dear me...

i saw this blog post by Today's Parent on twitter friday morning. it got me thinking about my 12-year-old self. wow, the differences between how i remember feeling and what i remember upon deeper reflection. let me explain:

my 12-year-old perspective of myself at 12 years old

• my thighs are so much bigger than everyone else in dance class.
• i have to be a "base" in cheerleading because i'm too fat to be a "flyer."
• if only i could buy my clothes at "xyz" store, maybe i'd be more popular.
• the girls on my cheerleading squad don't like me because i don't go to their school.
• mom says boys like me, but are intimidated by my being smart.
• i hate being labeled "smart"
• i have to make straight As. no exceptions.
• i need to be perfect.

yikes. it still saddens me to reflect.

what i wish this 12-year-old girl only knew

• you will fail in life. and you will survive.
• you are not defined by your body shape or size.
• popularity has nothing to do with material possessions or location. if it does, you don't want to associate with those people anyway.
• your gpa will only get you so far. your future employers have no interest in it.
• being "labeled smart" isn't a bad thing. it gives you respect in many cases.
• perfection is unattainable.

(yeah, that last one is still a daily reminder, even at 31.)

• oh, one more thing: in about two years you will meet the love of your life. definitely something to get excited about.

the good part of all this? it's the past. it is does not have to be the future. every day is a new opportunity to live, love and hope.

for many reasons, i'm glad my first child is a boy. i pray that wells will be spared the plagues of body image issues and mental illness.

accepting my changing body has been a challenge. some days more than others. i rely on information about health and this process to keep me focused. (and the fact that my husband can't take his eyes off me and always wants to touch me--while at times a nuisance--doesn't hurt.)

it helps to focus on the truth, what i know to be absolute:

"Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD; the fruit of the womb is a reward." Psalm 127:3

little things

it takes very little for me to get slightly wound up, in general.

case in point-- conversation between hubby and me driving down highway 280:

me: "so, honestly, driving in the center lane and seeing cars drive past you on both sides doesn't bother you at all? doesn't make you want to immediately change lanes?"

hubby: "no. i mean, i see them, but i'm fine right here."

me: "wow. that must be nice."

it's so easy to forget the little things. the small parts of every day that make me smile. being a pessimist at heart, i have to work to focus on the positive, especially when things get rough.

but, i think pregnancy is helping to change my perspective. my focus has most definitely shifted to be more in tune with daily events instead of generally worrying about what may or may not happen in the future. it used to be a lot easier to look over the details of every day. i now find myself noticing the details in everyday life that i used to take for granted, or, at the very least, ignore.

like david's laughter.

my husband has the most intoxicating laugh. seriously. one of the earliest indications that i knew i would fall in love with him? he laughed, OUT LOUD, during an episode of the golden girls (that i made him watch with me).

not too long ago, we were talking about something and i noticed david's laugh again. i found myself thinking, "i certainly hope wells has his father's sense of humor. i wonder if his laugh will sound the same." i'm sure you can only imagine the huge smile that came to my face.

i'm trying to take it day by day. hour by hour. some days, minute by minute. i'm learning to focus on the small things.

like baby flutters. the first kick. the first set of hiccups. the expression on david's face the first time he felt wells move inside of me.

yes, on the tough days, these are the little things that make everything okay.

mantra, anyone?

"you need a mantra."

i stared at my therapist. huh?

"you spend a lot of time in your head. you need a mantra to refocus."

hmm. okay. makes sense. i guess. so we ran through a few. nothing struck me.

then: "let go or be dragged."

"no."

"why not?"

"i see myself being drug all over the place with that one."

she cocks her head at me.

"yeah, i know. that's the one."

flashback to five years ago, when i heard the same thing: "ever think that you are allowing yourself to be strung along?" ouch. maybe it's just me, but that's a painful reality. nothing hurts more than the truth sometimes.

so, "let go or be dragged" is my new mantra. now, i don't want you to picture me sitting around on a mat, burning incense and chanting (though, some days, that might prove to be helpful...)

for me, the mantra is to help me get back the moment. one of the worst things for me to do when dealing with ED or any other negative stressor is to dwell on it--breath life into it and give it room to grow. it happens--more than i would like to admit.

maybe it sounds crazy: why would i choose to be drug around by negative thoughts? good question. i'd rather not be, but for me, it's my "autopilot:" the route my mind naturally takes. if you actually saw the thought process to get back to what most of you would call "normal," you'd be exhausted.

distractions help. they're a lifesaver some days.

creating gets me out of my head. it's hard to concentrate on irrational thoughts when i'm flattening bottle caps. in fact, using the rubber mallet is quite therapeutic.

here's my newest jewelry adventure: bottle cap pendants. i made this one in honor of my son :)

this is me: refusing to be drug.

run away cats

yes, it's been a while. too long. my apologies.

so, anyway, last week, my cats ran away. both of them. at different times. it was like they were tag teaming my nerves or something.

gabby and tino are indoor cats. mostly because i am overprotective and haven't lived anywhere with a fence until i married david. besides, i want them inside to cuddle with me.

last friday night, my sweet in-laws came over to install the back splash in our kitchen, which means the wet saw was being used, which means the garage was needed, which led to no one thinking about putting up the cat door stopper. oops.

around midnight, david realized gabby was missing, which led to us roaming the streets for her (me, half asleep in my old pink bath robe). no luck. solution? sleep with the garage door up. she'll come home.

and she did. by 5 am, gabby was on the bed meowing. and tino was no where to be found.

i admit it: tino is my favorite. yes, he is BAD, and can be intensely annoying, but he's the sweetest animal i've ever encountered. seriously. he loves to be in my lap on the couch. in the bed, he prefers to be the "little spoon."

so, yes, at this point, i paniced a bit. overall, i did a great job of keeping it together. i just kept reminding myself of how the stress could affect the baby. i tried my best to remain calm. by 9 pm, when i turned off the bedroom light, i was convinced he was gone for good. no amount of roaming the streets, driving around, or calling had produced my cat.

sleep lasted only a few hours. by 11:30, i was sitting outside on the driveway, propped up in david's tailgate chair with a beach towel to ease the chill.

after a short while, i noticed all the cars, mostly with teenage boys or boy/girl combinations, flying down the street. huh?  then it clicked: date night. midnight curfew. beginning of summer--don't blow it.

my hand immediately went to my belly. great. this is what i have to look forward to: waiting up for my son to come home once he's driving on his own. flashback to my own mother waiting for me in high school. big sigh.

then, mild panic: if i am this saddened by my cat running away, what would i ever do if my CHILD did this? panic: or if he was taken from me? i immediately began to think of all the stories of lost children--how in the world did those mothers go on every day, not knowing, wondering, worrying, panicking? enter massive panic. sobbing. over my run away cat and unborn missing child. thank you, hormones.

reflecting a week later, i'm still trying to see what i can learn from the experience. my conclusion? i need to trust more. i need to trust that there is always a bigger picture. the hardest part is accepting that it might not ever be revealed to me.

after searching for a verse to help me believe and learn to trust, i've settled on this one:

Isaiah 12:2: " Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defense;  he has become my salvation. ”

i've had several moments of panic and sheer terror since finding out i was pregnant. from small incidents to letting my worries get the best of me, it's been an up and down experience so far (more up than down, but still...). developing a greater sense of trust will  help me get through the next few months, and, more importantly, the rest of my life as a mother. because it never ends, this parent gig. i've always known that, but am now beginning to understand it intimately.

thankfully, this small misadventure had a happy ending: at 12:45 am, sleepless, i decided to lie across the spare room bed, where i could see the cat door and most likely hear it opening. a little orange head popped through at 1:49 am.

my little spoon :)

rest

rest. i think i overlook this verb frequently. as a woman, there always seems to be something to do. be it dishes, laundry, personal care, whatever. we do. and we do a lot.

i love children. i've spent the past ten years in the early care and education field. in the nonprofit sector, nonetheless. obviously, i did not choose this to get rich.

when i think about become a mother to this precious baby inside of me, i sometimes start to panic. what will that be like? will i be able to handle motherhood?

my worries stem from what i know about myself: i am a giver. i hate to say no (though i am getting much better at it). i like things to be as perfect as they can be (though i am learning to be more gentle with myself). i worry about not resting as i should...i cringe at the thought of eating my words (i am always telling the parents i work with to take time for themselves. you can't give to your family if you don't take any meet your own needs).

and then i breath. i reflect. i remember that i am not alone. i am not perfect, nor am i expected to be.

"Then Jesus said to them 'Come to me, all who are weary and carry heavy burdens and I will give you rest.'" ~Matthew 11:28

along with a love of children comes the love of child-like things: books, linking toys and stuffed animals, just to name a few. it is this passion that reminds me of one of my favorite passages in scripture:

"Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.'"  ~Matthew 19:14

what does it all come down to? faith. faith that things will work out as they should, in their own time. with all the bumps and curves that come with it.

today, i bought my baby a gift. i fell in love with it onsite. when i saw the back of it, i knew it was for me as much as my child.

bunnies for buganda is a wonderful fair-trade ministry that makes these adorable animals. i loved the idea of a child receiving one because i purchased one for my own. for now, it serves as a reminder that it's okay to rest. to let go of worries. that i need to rely on faith. even more, i can't wait for the day to explain the meaning behind it to my own little one.

p.s. you can "like" bunnies for buganda on facebook too (of course).

all you need

i'm a sucker for cheese. cheesy stuff, that is. give me a good romantic comedy.  pick me a flower. set the coffee pot for me. if it's a sweet gesture, i'll fall for it every time.

one of my favorite movies is love actually. what's not to love? it combines my slight obsession with british culture, colin firth, hugh grant, a great soundtrack, and, of course, an extra dose of cheese. it's hard to choose a favorite scene, but this one is definitely one of them (along with the mark and juliet "carol singers" scene):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wqHRMuUhmnA
**Note embedding was disabled. Just take the extra second to click and watch it, okay?**

oh yeah, the movie also has a wedding. and a proposal. cheese overload? yes, please.

anyway. so at the end of last june, i attended my first magnolia creek alumni reunion. the timing was perfect: i was stressed. i was tired. i was feeling alone.

the last activity we did that day involved each of us getting a sheet of paper with a single phrase on it. we were told that we had to figure out how they were related. this was mine:

coincidence? i think not.

it now hangs on my closet door as a reminder.

i've mentioned faith and fate on this blog a lot already, but i'll say it again: despite the rough times i've been through (and am sure are ahead too), i truly believe that everything happens some way for a reason. there is no accident. life is a chain of events.

it is this amazing group of women in recovery that reminded me that creating is therapy for me. and a reason i started this blog in the first place. yeah, i know, the crafts haven't been showing up...(oops)

but i have been creating! see?

i love my crafts. love the process. love the thought that goes into them. however, the best ones are made with love.

it should be ready at the end of october.

(side note: to those who understand, it's a "tough mudder" baby!)

bingeing

for those of us who fight the urge to binge and purge, it's usually related to a need to escape. a way to numb out from life. to not deal with whatever situations, emotions, or worries are plaguing us.

ed tells you its the only way to deal with the mess inside your head.

yet another one of his lies.

my daily quote calendar has given me some great inspiration for posts. i'm just now getting around to writing one...(if i did this during working hours, it would happen more often.)

see, i've been living. enjoying life. getting outside of my head. a lot.

julia child said it best: life itself is the proper binge.

this past weekend, i enjoyed frozen limeades, sunshine and a book i could not put down (sing you home). i opened the windows and took long naps. i went to easter service. alone. i painted my toenails a glittery red. i window shopped online. i watched an old movie on lifetime.

yes, it was a binge: a "i'm doing whatever i want, when i want, outside of my thoughts and feelings" weekend. and at night, when my husband returned home from his last working weekend (YAY!), i snuggled up against him on the couch and in the bed. 

i didn't run away. i lived. and i loved every minute of it.

yet another reason why i am a cat person

in general, i do not enjoy exercising. not even a tiny bit. i'd much rather drink water and watch a fitness dvd while lounging on the couch then actually copy the obnoxious, incredibly too perky instructor with abs of steel and a butt on which you could serve tea.

however, in making bigger attempts to eat right and stay fit (and this whole "recovery" thing in general), i am trying to be more physically active.

i came home today and engaged in my usual after work routine (pjs, glass of water, facebook). then, deciding that it was good weather to be outside, i changed clothes again (okay, lie. i put a pullover and tennis shoes on), grabbed cooper's leash, my older-than-dirt ipod mini (because my newest one disappeared at work over a year ago) and headed outside.

i must stop here. cooper is "mine" by marriage. he is my step-dog. for the most part, though i give my husband a hard time, cooper is a fairly good dog (mainly because all he generally does is eat and sleep. oh--and fart. a lot).

so, being good doggy mom i am, i decided to bring cooper along, right? bad idea.

picture it: me, happily striding along to the beatles. cooper, walking, sniffing and attempting to mark everything. we make it a good 20 minutes. then, disaster strikes.

enter cute little yorkie. see cooper sniff. watch mommy tug on leash. see cooper defy mommy and continue to sniff, despite being drug away. go cooper. go yorkie. see cooper duck his head. oh no! the collar came off. run yorkie, run. run cooper, run. oh, crap.

mommy does not like to run.

meanwhile, back at home, my cats are lounging on the bed.

::sigh::

wisdom via dr. seuss

"If things start happening, don't worry, don't stew, just go right along and you'll start happening too."

such a simple statement, yet so profound.

it reminds me that the way we interpret a situation, either by reading too much into it, letting our feelings get the best of us, or immediately deciding that something is "bad," can have quite an impact on the outcome.

i wish i were more positive. i have to work on it most days. david calls me "negative nancy."  i like to refer to myself as "realistic rachel."

things don't always turn out great. but, they don't always turn out horrible.

i think that expecting the worst must be my primary defense mechanism--as if i try to keep myself from being disappointed by not thinking that good things will happen to me. 

but, if i let my intellect take over, i can see that, at least for the past few years, this is far from logical. on the contrary, most situations turn out okay, at worst, and great, a best.

perhaps it is time to work harder on "going right along." i'm ready to start happening--life has only just begun.


as for my "creations," there have been some lately. i just keep forgetting to take pictures (yes, i know...). my goal this next week is to play catch up. stay tuned!


but now, the lake air is calling--it's almost nap time.

Words to live by

What a great statement! I can't be everything for everyone. At the end of the day, what matters most is being all that I can for myself.

what now?

if you have gathered anything about me (considering the possibility that you are reading this and you DON'T know me very well), it is that i tend to be introspective. perhaps this is a trait of avid readers...


at any rate, i am a dork who loves an inspirational talk/speech/address. (yes, i am the one person who looks forward to keynote speakers and conferences.) yes, i openly own it. with a big smile.


like any bookworm, i have my favorite authors. one i recently discovered (and quickly grew to love), is ann patchett (absolutely brilliant. period.). combine my love of books with my adoration for inspirational speeches and speakers...i recently stumbled upon her "lauded commencement address at Sarah Lawrence College" (her alma matar). needless to say, i love it.


what now is a great example of reflection, of thinking about your circumstances and how they relate to your purpose, if not in life, for God's unique timing.


" 'What now is not just a panic-stricken question tossed out into a dark unknown. What now can also be our joy. It is a declaration of possibility, of promise, of chance. It acknowledges that our future is open, that we may well do more than anyone expected of us, that at every point in our development we are still striving to grow. There's a time in our lives when we all crave the answers. It seems terrifying not to know what's coming next. But there is another time, a better time, when we see our lives as a series of choices, and What now represents our excitement and our future, the very vitality of life. It's up to you to choose a life that will keep expanding.' "


i read her speech last week, and took a picture of this page (yep, with my Iphone-yay technology) so i could remember it (page 77, if you want to be specific--and i feel that i must be). little did i know that her words would have a larger impression on me the next week.


my coworkers and i spent today in a professional development session to address our communication skills (at some point every month, we all deliver "trainings" or "presentations" to large audiences). after our short lunch break, all ten of us were informed that we had to give an expository speech for 2 minutes.  the rest of us were to provide critiques and feedback on each one (read: you must critique your peers and two supervisors. panic? yep.).


as we each took a turn over the next hour and a half (with great courage, might i add--it is so much easier to speak in front of people with whom you do not work with every day), i was reminded of the variety of communication and presentation styles of my colleagues. i reflected upon the unique passions for our nonprofit work. whether it stems from a deeply personal experience, as my sweet Leslie feels, or a strong passion to simply help other child care providers succeed, as Beverly exudes, we all "do what we do" because we feel drawn to this field.


"'What Now'" is just a glimpse into the impact we can make in the world. we can choose to rejoice in the opportunities that they will bring.


whatever life has handed you now, my hope it that you will find the good it in; that you will inspire the generation to come.


life isn't always how we "expect it," but is always how we "embrace it." if nothing else, my precious life has been nothing but a lesson in this fact: my amazing husband david is a lesson that "everything happens for a reason (even if i don't really understand it until 14 years later...). "


I don't know about you,  but i like to "'have strengths to stand upon.'"


Psalm 91:14 states, "Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name."


my blessed assurance is that, in time, He will provide all that We need.

thinking

david and i got away this weekend. ah, the lake.

there's just something about this place that makes me happy. maybe it's because so much of my childhood was spent here with the people i love. maybe it's because the love of my life asked me to spend forever with him here...whatever the reason, it's easy to be content here.

i spend so much time "in my head." there are days that i feel trapped by the thoughts that constantly swim around.

eat. don't eat. lie. tell the truth. act happy. own your sadness.

sometimes, it takes getting away to stop the thoughts.

my therapist is always urging me to "be in the moment." to come down out of my head. to just be.

so, here goes.

i feel the warm sunshine on my face.

i hear birds chirping. a woodpecker  doing what he does best.

the slight breeze creates the most beautiful ripple in what is left of the lake now.

the sky is the most amazing blue possible. i don't think i could mix this color if i tried.

most everything around me is dead, yet there is a feeling of hope in the air. a promise that things will change. that plants will blossom. flowers will bloom.

yes, here, i am reminded that life is good. sometimes it takes getting away to remember what is important. work can suck. circumstances can be hard. but life is always worth living.

as the apostle paul wrote so long ago, "I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." (romans 8:18)

here's to the future.

thoughtful thursday: irony

i've been absent lately...here's what happens: i get great feedback, and then get scared of posting something that isn't "perfect" or "great" or "worthy of reading by others..."

and then i have to remind myself that this is MY blog. about MY experiences, motivations, passions, etc. (is it any wonder that i am a self proclaimed "people pleaser?") you can take it or leave it. i need to post anyway. for myself.

that being said, i hate "new year's resolutions." personally, i think they are crap. one can decide to change at any time...one just has to be willing...no judgement or standards need to be passed.

i attempted a "wordless wednesday" posting, then shot myself in the leg, earlier this week.

no resolution here. i've just decided that posting keeps me accountable, even if only to my sweet hubby who enjoys reading this...so, i will post on a somewhat regular basis. at the least: i will consider a "wordless wednesday" and/or "thoughtful thursday" posting (though, while i HATE the thought of being so "mainstream," i value the consistency). small expectations are great for us overachievers.

try number two: thoughtful thursday 1/19/2012 (note--my computer has be jacked up all week--had to visit the apple store today--hence the publishing delay)
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is it any wonder that a lady with an eating disorder would end up loving a cat like this:

insight: sometimes, it's okay to lick the bowl.

oops.

well, crap. i was thinking tomorrow was blackout day. in other news, yay for one day closer to the weekend!

oh well...too late to blackout this blog, but please visit Band Back Together to learn more about SOPA.

Wordless Wednesday

Yeah, I know. I've been absent. Gathering my thoughts. Figured this would be a good day to jump back in...