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!

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

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.