One Lovely Year

A year ago today, the bright warm sun was streaming into my room and filling the shadows with a glow full of life and excitement. I can still see the smiling, kind face of my midwife as she assured me that I was close to greeting my little girl. The presence of light in the room filled me with a new determination, a burst of energy and strength I did not realize I possessed. With a final push and painful, yet triumphant cry, she slipped into this world and into my longing arms and the day began.

My heart aches a little for that moment to return...for that indescribable feeling to linger just a bit longer. There is nothing in all the world like staring into the eyes of your newborn baby, their insanely tiny fingers wrapped lightly around your own, and soft, damp skin pressed against your chest. I have never in my life experienced such tremendous pain, or exhilarating joy.

What an incredible way to begin a day! Even after being up all night, wavering back and forth between great  anticipation of what was inevitable and overwhelming fear that I could not survive it...all I wanted to do that day was stare at her, and kiss her, and feel her velvety cheeks. I hated to nod off into a slumber and miss a single second of her miraculous presence beside me. I was so deeply in love with this bitty creature I had only just met. How could I possibly love her with this intensity? How could I possibly not?

We took her home hours later...still slightly intoxicated with bliss. The days and loooong nights following would prove to be challenging at the least. I felt entirely unprepared to care for a newborn along with my 2 and 4 year old children. My heart raced and my mind panicked at the very thought of my husband's return to work. But despite the fears and inadequacies I struggled with, this sweet year has been so very lovely. And this surprise baby we had not anticipated or desired has filled our lives with a richness and beauty that cannot be reproduced any other way. It is a fullness that money cannot buy and planning cannot manufacture. It is a gift.

I am ever so thankful that God, in all His wisdom, ignored the dreams in my own heart and gave me a gift I had not asked for and shamefully, I even mourned over a bit. I was so foolish to ever think that I did not want to be needed and loved by this sweet girl. I weep as I consider it. Thank you, Lord, for unseen circumstances and unplanned honors...like sharing a day full of sunshine and new life with the baby girl you have given to us. What a privilege and joy this year of living life together has been for our family!

Happy Birthday to my sweet darling, L.
What an amazing day it was!

So in Love...

I could just stare at her for hours. She is amazing, precious, adorable, wonderful; a pure delight. Her sparkling blue eyes captivate and her perfect smile full of life and wonder melt my heart into a puddle of mushy love. Her sweet baby cooing is music to me...soft and spectacular. I lay her in my lap facing upward, and cradle her in both arms...and we gaze and smile at one another; whispering soft sounds back and forth. She grips my aging hand with her delicate little fingers. I brush me cheek against her soft face...and tickle her neck with my kisses. Oh - there is nothing in the whole world like those sweet baby kisses! We snuggle and kiss and coo some more and she smiles as her eyelids grow heavy and begin to slowly fall. Soon she is still; her only movement is the rhythmic rise and fall of her tiny chest and all I hear is the comforting sound of her breathing.

And I sit here in awe.

This is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. I am so in love.

Shed

I am shedding…lots.

I always keep my hair in a ponytail now, because otherwise I end up leaving a trail of hair behind anywhere I go. The shower drain needs to be unclogged often...and I can barely keep up with the sweeping and vacuuming necessary to prevent a layer of my locks from coating our floors.

It is disgusting.

At least it's my own hair...but I still think it's gross. I often get that tickly feeling, as though a tiny creature of the six - or worse - eight legged sort is crawling down my back or arm...only to realize it's just my hair, which is a relief, but still...eww.

And as practical as a ponytail may be...some days I just want to wear my hair down...this “ponytail-for-6-months” thing is getting old.

It's L.'s fault. Her delightful arrival has initiated this shedding of my hair. And hair is not the only thing being lost and left behind.

I'm shedding pounds too, which is great. I like that kind of shedding. I'm nearly back to pre-pregnancy weight, although I don't think I'll be returning to pre-pregnancy shape for awhile...either in appearance or physical aptitude.

Modesty is shed quickly when giving birth.

"A few strangers want to watch me push a baby through my hoo-hah?...Oh, that's fine, come on in!" [Turned out mine was the only natural birth those students had ever witnessed.]

"Excuse me, nurse...um, I'm peeing in the bathroom, could you please bring me another iced diaper."

"Hello, man-I've-never-met-before...sure you can bring my lunch in. Don’t mind my lactating breasts hanging out while my baby and I are trying to figure out this nursing thing."

I've shed a few tears. Some were reasonably shed...most were likely hormonal, or due to the excessive amount of sleep I've shed.

And parenting these three children has shed some light on a few things; mostly on God's greatness and my own inadequacies. These have developed in me a more grace-filled perspective of my own parents and of parents in general.

Back to my hair, though...

So, I learned that hair follows a natural cycle of growing, becoming dormant, and shedding. During pregnancy, the increase of hormones in a woman's body prohibits the hair from being shed, as it normally would be. So generally about 1-3 months after delivery, as her hormone levels return to "normal" [pshhh, yah right, like our hormone's are ever "normal"], the hair that was previously prevented from falling out, is shed over a relatively short period of time. And the hair rejuvenating process continues as before.

The peak of this massive post-pregnancy hair shedding is typically 3-4 months after delivery, so I should be just about through - I seriously hope so!

This whole shedding thing made me think about how the Lord is always purifying our hearts.

The healthy things in our life continue to grow. The things that are dormant, useless, and dead, fall out. It's a cycle. We are constantly being renewed as believers in Jesus. But when an imbalance in our spiritual lives interferes with that "shedding" process, what is dormant and dead is prevented from being removed...until He delivers us. And then the icky, messy, gross process of shedding all that is lifeless begins. The sin is going to be dealt with - one way or another it will fall...but I tell you what, when it's held onto for a time, the shedding of it is a much messier ordeal.

So, there's a weird analogy for you...

…and possibly tmi.

But hopefully He can redeem my ramblings and bless your heart in some way through them.


"You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness." - Ephesians 4:22-24

My Evening Went Like This...

5:00 PM:

Suddenly, with no warning whatsoever one of my children bursts into a high pitched whiney yell: "Mooooooommmm!!! I'm hungryyyyyy!"

Me: "Um, Okay. I'd be happy to make you dinner, but it's not ok for you to speak to me like that."

My child then whimpers an equally whiney, "ooookaaay..." and pretends not to know better than to speak the way he did. This is where my second child enters the scene and begins to beg to watch a movie.

Me: "No. It's dinnertime. Mom's going to make dinner and you and your brother need to clean up the mess you made doing crafts."

First child [still whining] demands, "Whyyy??? Why do I have to clean it up?"

Me: "Because it's your mess and Mom is going to make dinner."

My children then walk away pouting and plop themselves on the floor in the middle of the mess and proceed to argue about who has to pick up which piece of paper on the floor. So, far no one has put away anything...and the disagreement escalates to screaming and crying, at which point I intervene, more for my own sanity than any other reason.

"STOP IT! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!!!"

I handled it very calmly and rationally and set a great example for them.

"STOP YELLING AT EACH OTHER!!!!!"

[Yes, that was sarcasm before. It was not my finest moment. Oh, but it gets worse.]

After threatening, [and almost hoping they would continue to ignore my instructions so I could follow through] to send them to bed immediately if the 10 pieces of paper, 1 pair of scissors, and 2 glue sticks were not properly put away within the next 2 minutes, child #1 very reluctantly dragged himself around and accomplished the task, all the while complaining that child #2 wasn't doing it. Child #2 picked up 1 piece of paper just to prove him wrong no doubt and then returned to sprawling out on the dirty kitchen floor while I'm attempting to finish dinner with my 9 week old baby in arms.

I set baby down, [I needed both hands for a moment] and now baby is screaming. Child #1 is upset that baby is screaming and demands I pick baby up. At the same time, child #2 is notifying me that she does not at all like my choice of food for dinner and has absolutely no intention of eating any of it. I let her know I'm sorry that she doesn't particularly care for what I made, then instruct her that regardless, she will most certainly be eating some of it.

At this point child #1 asks "what?" I reply that I was speaking to his sister. He demands to know what I said. I reply that I was not speaking to him and he didn't need to know. He begins to yell about me not telling him and that he's mad because he couldn't hear what I said and he wants to know. I tell him to sit down and be "QUIET!"

I serve the meal...and the entire time, child #1 is requesting permission for activities he would like to do after dinner, to which I respond that he needs to finish dinner first and then we will discuss it. "Okay" he replies, and then proceeds to ask again. Child #2 is dropping food onto the floor and complaining that she doesn't like it and "will not eat it at all". "Fine,” I say, “but you will be hungry and I will not be giving you anything else to eat tonight."

Child #2: "Okay."
Child #1: begins screaming and crying "No! No! You can't...she's going to be HUNGRY!!!"

Meanwhile, I'm trying to eat my dinner while nursing the baby who is flailing and crying because she needs to burp, so I lift her up to burp her and that's more painful for her, so now she's screaming. Her discomfort escalates for about 10 minutes or so until she finally pukes all over the both of us and is now ready to nurse again.

The phone rings, and while I'm on the phone, child #2 decides to continue playing with and complaining about her dinner, but not really eating it.

Dinner is cleared eventually, and both children ended up eating at least most of it. I washed the dishes [with baby in my arms...yes, even the pots...I'm just that talented.] and child #1 is now playing a video game, while child #2 is watching. Baby falls asleep in my arms and I gingerly lay her down in her car seat, hoping she will rest long enough so I can squeeze in a shower. [Not only had I not showered yet today, but was also now covered in spit-up.]

At this point I decide to get children 1 & 2 ready for bed and instruct child #2 to go potty. She argues and eventually meanders her way to the bathroom, then sits down and plays. I walk by the bathroom and remind her again to stop playing and go potty. She responds with a snippy, "I am." [And continues to play]

Child #1 demands my attention, I honestly can't remember why, but I adressed him. 

Then, as I turn back around to deal with child #2, she announces with a panicked voice, "Mom, I did not ruin my big girls." [translation: I definitely peed my pants because I was ignoring you and being defiant and now I really wish I had listened because I know I'm in huge trouble.]

We stare at each other for a moment...
Look down at the puddle by her feet...
Look up at each other again...

She says, "Mom, I will not do it again."

Me: nothing. I just breathe. I have no energy left for anything else.

I put her in the bathtub and instruct her to remove her clothing. Then go and get some rags and cleaner to take care of the puddle.

Child #1 is now running back and forth across the house. I ask him to stop, noting that his baby sister is sleeping and I would like her not to be woken up and reminding him that I never let him run in the house anyways. To which he says, "Ok". And I return to my cleaning.

The mess is now cared for and Child #2 has undressed herself quite unhappily. [Apparently mom should be the one to touch the wet and dirty clothing, not her.] Now I hear crying in the other room. Baby is awake. And I also hear thundering footsteps across the kitchen floor. Then I hear it again.

Child #1 is questioned, and indeed he had continued to run through the house. Yes, he fully understood that he had been instructed not to. Yes, he knew it was going to wake up baby. And no, he wasn't going to run anymore. He is then informed that he needs to put away his video game and will not be playing anymore tonight as a punishment for disobeying me. To this he responds with a passionate, "WAHHHHHHHH!!!!" And begins yelling, "WHY MOM?!" over and over, between the "WAhh!"s.

Now I move crying baby's car seat into the bathroom and turn on the water for Child #2 who is now naked and cold. She doesn't like the water on her and screams at the top of her lungs..in the shower...in the bathroom...and it echoed. Nice. Now baby is deaf. [Probably not really, but I was almost wishing I could go temporarily deaf for the remainder of the night.]

I calm her down and realize that child #1 is still screaming. So I put away the game for him, then inform him that he will not be playing for a week now. Naturally, he screams louder. I spank him and send him to his room.

I gather pjs for child #2 and remove her from the shower. Baby is now crying and child #1 is now quiet.  I talk with him about why he was being punished.

I wait for baby to fall back asleep and then shower...finally.

It's now 7:00 and I brush teeth for children 1&2. Child #1 decides his face is dirty and uses a washcloth to clean it off. Then he looks at child #2 and determines her face is also dirty, and proceeds to clean it for her. Child #2 dislikes it and screams. Since baby is still in the bathroom with us all, she wakes up. Child #1 is crying because child #2 is crying and baby is crying because our house is INSANE!

I want to cry...but don't...yet.

I yell at child #2 for yelling [brilliant, mom, brilliant, yell at them for yelling...that's some great parenting there.] [again, sarcasm] and rush children 1&2 off to bed, kiss them quickly and reluctantly, force out an "I love you." to each of them, and then go to comfort hysterical baby...who is wet and needs her diaper changed.

I sit down with fussy baby and nurse her. She again needs to burp, so I hold her up, to which she cries, I lay her down, she cries louder. We continue trying various positions for about 15 minutes until finally she burps, spits up chunky milk all down my chest and clean pajamas and bobs her head searching for something more to eat.   And then she poops and her diaper leaks on us both. 

I just breathe.


I think I need to pray.  And then wash some laundry.

Familiarity Breeds Oversight

I was staring at Lil, my youngest, and kissing her...and staring and kissing and staring and kissing and...oh sorry, I digress...

But I was admiring and adoring her like usual, when I was struck by the thought; "How is this tiny little thing even working...and where did she come from" [ok, people, I...KNOW where she came from, sheesh!] But, truly...how is there no life and then a whole person is formed and birthed and alive... It is SO amazing!

...Then she cried and pooped and our blissful awestruck moment passed.

It's easy to begin to take for granted what is so miraculous and overlook the weighty honor of being entrusted with the care of our children, isn't it? It's easy to become caught up in the daily and grow familiar with life and all of it's wonder.  Sometimes that familiarity causes us to forget how wonderful and miraculous it is.

Even in the "unwonderful" moments of life...whatever they may be, [and we all experience them - even little Lil, ie...pooping & crying...and perhaps being smothered by her obnoxiously affectionate mother...] - we could benefit to learn the discipline of being still and knowing that He is God. Fixing our eyes on Jesus and recognizing His gloriousness displayed all around us. It is all around us.  But sometimes we become so familiar with it, we fail to even see. 

Open your eyes and take a second glance.  God is amazing!

A Mother's Day Story

I was busy cutting veggies and arranging trays of fruit when my life was on the verge of forever being disrupted; my perspective about to be significantly challenged; and God was preparing my heart for a love that was unlike any other I’d previously known.

My family was coming over for dinner that evening. It was Saturday. Since my family and my husband’s family live near us, we try to spend holidays with both families when we can. This particular year, Saturday night was to be spent with my family, and Sunday, the actual holiday, would be spent with his.

It was an exciting time for me. Nearing my due date, I was full of both joyous anticipation and, to be perfectly honest, unspoken terror. [Ok…well, mostly unspoken. I spoke of it to some…to the few who would endure my irrational panic.] The news that our first child was on the way was a delightful and frightening surprise for me. Although, my husband and I had discussed the possibility of children, our conclusion had always been: we are SO not ready.

My biggest “not ready” complaint? The process. Yes. The fear of the unknown was enough intimidation to quench any ambition of mothering a child in the near future. Maybe I would be ready someday when I was older and braver, I reasoned. [Because, naturally, I would just become more courageous with age, right...?] But in this instance, unfortunately for my ambitions, the scenario was worse than unknown. I had vague ideas of what carrying and delivering a baby might be like. My imagination, fueled by what little I did know, was even scarier than simply not knowing. I just couldn’t bring myself to intentionally put my body in a situation where it would be required to endure the agony I so vividly envisioned in my mind. But, thankfully, I’m not so in control as I might like to think.

I remember telling a co-worker the afternoon before I took a pregnancy test that we would want to wait at least 3 more years. [What did I think would change in 3 years? Why 3 years? I don’t know. I just remember offering that number after she asked when we planned to start having children.] I took the test assuming I would alleviate my suspicion…not really giving much thought to the remaining option that I may actually prove my inkling true.

The odd thing to me, now looking back, is that my concern was not so much that we did not have the space…which we did not, by the cultural standards. Nor was I too concerned that we would struggle financially, especially if I quit work and stayed home with the baby, like we wanted to do…and we definitely faced financial challenges. Nope. My big worry was short term, self-centered, and simple; I did not want the pain.

Ironically, I have since delivered 3 children naturally. Amazing that she who is one of the whiniest, wimpiest people I know, actually did it…3x! We also still live in the same home…now with not just one child, but three. AND have made it on one modest income since the day we felt convicted by the Lord to trust Him and I quit my job [forfeiting over half our income…] to stay home with my baby. He has never once failed to meet our needs, and at times, we have just been so in awe at the ways He has chosen to provide for us.

So, on that Saturday, not knowing what the future held…and not wanting to think too much about it, I prepared and hosted dinner for my Mother and the rest of my family, all the while feeling, but trying desperately to ignore, my contractions as they grew stronger. By the time the last guest walked out our front door, I had to sit down and finally tell my husband, “I think I might be in labor.”

The contractions were not very close together yet. I took a shower and finished gathering items for the hospital. We called and headed out. I labored all night, walking up and down the halls of the hospital…while my husband slept on a bench nearby. I envied him.

I was so young, and unprepared, and afraid, but with my husband [finally awake] and my own Mother by my side, I welcomed our first child into the world – on Mother’s Day. And by the strength and grace that God provided, I endured the dreaded pain.

I have to say that the experience was empowering, in a way. I had no idea I was strong enough to go through that. I truly believed at one point that I was quite possibly going to die. [I was nowhere near death; I’m just a dramatic big baby – although in my defense, I was in a heap of hurtin’ this time.] But all of it…the pregnancy, the labor, the birth – the learning to mother a baby…it all made me realize that I was stronger than I expected myself to be. And that the Lord was able to carry me through what appeared to be insurmountable obstacles, with surprisingly little effort. [Hello?!? – a baby should NOT be able to fit through that space!!! – That’s just weird! AND…how in the world does a woman’s abdomen, first of all, stretch out that far…and secondly, ever return to any sort of normalcy…it’s ridiculous. I’m impressed. Nice work, God.]

One of my sweetest first memories with our son was either the first or second day we were home with him. I was sitting in our recliner holding him while he slept. And I suddenly was just overwhelmed with love for him. I started to cry. [See, I told you before, I’m a crier.] And the Lord spoke to my heart, “I love you. I love my Son, and I allowed and chose for Him to endure great pain for you.” I could not imagine allowing anything painful to happen to my son. I looked down at his leg. [My son had been accidentally significantly burned by hospital staff while being prepped for his PKU. This is another story altogether.] I felt his pain with him. I was so angry that this had happened…I would have never allowed it.

I can’t say that I am completely over my fear of pain, although, I think I have a new perspective. I realize that I can endure more pain than I think I am able to. I realize that pain can produce something wonderful and miraculous. I realize that love required my Savior to endure more suffering than I will likely ever come near to facing, so I might not be held captive to sin and death.

         “Who for the joy set before Him endure the cross…”
                                                                 Hebrews 12

He endured it "for the joy set before Him".  I only endured because there was no other option.  If I had a choice, mid-labor, to continue "for the joy set before me", I may very likely have decided I actually didn't want a baby that bad.  [At that point I didn't even understand the joy that I was about to experience - or how intense my labor would become.]  Yet, there was no other way...that baby was going to come out somehow...and it would be painful. But, unlike me. Jesus endured His suffering willingly, knowing both the cost and the reward, for the joy of loving us...for the joy of pleasing the Father. 

I’m thankful my Mother endured pain to deliver me.

I feel blessed to be given the opportunity to endure the pain necessary to deliver my 3 children.

I am overwhelmed that God would endure pain to deliver us.

That Sunday was a very special Mother’s Day for me; it was my very first; my son was born; my Mother was by my side. It was just special. And my life has since been certainly altered, my thoughts completely refocused, and my heart has been invaded by that tiny, beautiful creature I had endured such pain to meet. I am so glad for it all. I’m thankful for the lessons I am learning. I’m thankful for each day I am given to love and be loved by the children God has placed in our care. What a privilege and honor. Happy Mother’s Day!

My sweet things.

Quieted By Love

"waaaa...waaa....waaaaaaa!"

I circled the house for the fifteenth time or so [that sounds longer than it actually took...those of you who've been here understand.], bouncing her gently in my arms and whispering soothing sounds in her ear as I rubbed her back and nuzzled her head with my cheek. Still, the only response she gave was screaming.

Behind us trailed my sweet little shadow, Rachel. In her incredibly heart-melting 2 year old voice, she was also attempting to comfort her tiny little sister, "Oh...you poor, sweet litttle love. Oh, darling, you're ok - your mommy's got you. Sweet baby, I'm so sorry you're hurting. You'll be ok, you can do it - you're a tough little honey." I smiled. And likely blushed a little - apparently this is what I sound like...although most certainly not as adorable. Rae's cheerful encouragements were just as ineffective as my own efforts. But we both continued in our attempts as we proceeded back and forth across the living room.

After a man-sized belch, and a fair amount of spitup in my hair and down both of our chests, she was finally comfortable. And now, exhausted, she quieted. Her previously restless arms and legs now relaxed and she gripped my arm with her tiny hand and laid her head on my shoulder.

Moments later...more crying. I sat down.  Rae had returned to playing.  I leaned forward, with Lily resting on my legs and took her head in my hands, gently stroking her face with my thumbs.  I bent further and pressed my lips against her ear and continued to whisper lovingly to her and kiss her ... whisper ...kiss ...whisper ...kiss.  Her frantic, painful cries slowed a mournful whimpers...momentarily.  This carried on for a time - cries, comfort...whimpers....cries.  The cycle eventually ended and I sat staring at this beautiful little creature wondering how she could possibly be producing such intense noise all on her own...and wishing I knew how to better soothe her discomfort.

"The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save.  He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing." Zephaniah 3:19

He will quiet you with His love.

I am awestruck by this, as I consider it in light of my own experience with LilyMae.

As I experience the difficulties, pains, trials and discomforts of life...He sees.  He hears.  He holds me in His hands and whispers encouragements and love gently into my life. It still hurts.  But when I pause long enough to hear His voice above my own tearful cries and notice His touch despite my panicked flailing... I am able to rest a moment - quieted by His comforting love.

I'm reminded of Rachel's words to Lily, "You're ok - your mommy's got you."

I'm ok...He is holding me.  And unlike myself - who is actually relatively helpless to resolve my daughter's discomfort - regardless of what I so confidently whisper to my children in their distress - He IS mighty to save.  And He will save us...those of us who accept His love.  Although, not always in the ways or timimg we would like.  He will hold us through it all and quiet us with His love...aching with us as He sees our pain...delighting in us...rejoicing over us with singing. How amazing is THAT?! :)