i hate naming posts

it's january. 2013.

wow.

i feel like Wells just arrived yesterday, but it's almost been three months now.

must be the severe lack of quality sleep. and the fact that i think i have exactly 5 brain cells left, which take turns "working" as best they can each day. ::sigh::

this mommy gig? yeah, the hardest thing i've ever done, by far.  it never ceases to amaze me that it can be simultaneously rewarding and terribly trying at the same time.

there are days when i want to run. away. far, far away (no pun intended). spend an entire 24 hours to myself? bliss. but, not an option at this point.

i know i will look back at this point in a few years and smile. knowing that it was all worth it. (for those of you who don't know, i'm a strong supporter of breastfeeding exclusively for the first six months, if possible). (please note: i am well aware that every mother is entitled to her own opinion, as influenced by her and her family's needs and beliefs. this is not a post to persuade/impose my own theories on anyone. spare me this in the comments, please.)

but there are days that i have to constantly remind myself that it will get better. one day. soon, hopefully...

until then, i must try to focus on the positive aspects of motherhood; the small moments that can so easily get overlooked in the day-to-day constant struggles. as it is, i am an extremely visual person (yes, i am the one who hates to see the movie after i read the book mainly because it doesn't look like i pictured as i enjoyed reading it...--not to mention the stupid plot changes, but that's a completely different rant...). so, a few days ago, i decided to create something to help me with this task:

this

became this

yes, my goal is to record something, no matter how small it may be, that makes me smile every day (or, every day i actually remember to write it down...missed two thus far...sigh...) ...particularly those related to great challenges (hence, many blessings will refer to my precious baby boy). my daily devotion from proverbs 31 ministries today was this (i am constantly in awe of how the Lord can draw me in when i allow Him to do so):

"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:2

on the hard days, it will serve as a reminder that every day has positive aspects: blessings to be forever thankful for and appreciated.

i've also been seeking one word to pray, search and meditate on this year. i have a strong feeling as to what it shall be, but will save it for a (sooner, rather than) later post. :)

here's to a joyful 2013: may your blessings be too many to count and contain!

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

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).