Hormones Justified... No, Really!

If you've ever been pregnant, known a pregnant woman, or been married to one, then you know about the craziness of pregnancy hormones. Let's liken it to monthly mood swings on crack. Ok, ok, so that analogy is a bit crude, but forgive me, I'm pregnant... and moody!

Pregnancy hormones can cause anger one minute and pure joy the next. Tears on, tears off. Insurmountable frustration and happy-go-lucky freedom.

This week, I was talking with someone who told me about 2 different couples whose marriages were suffering and they are separated. I know of another couple whose marriage is rocky right now.

I couldn't help myself. I cried, and cried, and cried.

Real conversation:

"But you don't even know these couples that well." More tears.

"I know," (between sobs), "but marriage is supposed to last forever!"

"They might be able to work things out."

"But, separation... that's so serious! That's the first serious step towards, towards... DIVORCE! Don't they know that when they got married, they took a vow before God and each other that they would be there for one another, through thick and thin, sickness and health, good times and bad times!? Don't they remember LOVING each other???"

And I sobbed some more. Because I remember my wedding day, and I remember my vows. I remember committing to Brandon that I would love him all the days of my life, through whatever was thrown our way, and that I would follow him as a loyal friend and partner, wherever God led him.

Then I cried some more, because I thought about our Father and how He has promised to love us, not just until we mess up, but through our mistakes. Wouldn't we be hurt and shocked if He just gave up on us? He is always there and won't ever give us more than we can bear.

I'm no marriage counselor, but here's my advice:

If your marriage is struggling, stop for a minute and remember. Remember what it was like in the days of "puppy love" with your spouse. Now bring yourself back to the present and look at what you have done and what your spouse has done. Have you done all you could humanly possible to show your spouse you cared? My guess is that the love notes in the car or on the counter stopped after the first year, the "just because I love you" gifts stopped shortly after that, and you might have even stopped kissing each other before bed, because it was just easier to go to sleep.

And here's a real zinger. When was the last time you prayed for your spouse?

Not prayers that they would stop being a jerk and screwing up your life, but praying for the man or woman that they are. Praying that God would protect their heart and eyes and mind each day. That he or she would take giant steps forward in the path that God has laid out for them each day. Prayers that he or she would stay healthy, kind, and become wise. Prayers that your relationship would grow in leaps and bounds because of the honest communication you share and because of the commitment you strive and choose to keep each day.

Your spouse is a gift. Personally, I can't imagine a day without mine. God uniquely paired Brandon and I together and designed us for one another. We are a team and even through difficult times, we are committed to one another. We make each other whole. There are times when I withdrawal from the relationship bank and Brandon has to keep on depositing, and there are other times that I am the one depositing, but through it all, we complete each other. I can truly say that one of the best parts about our marriage is our open and honest communication with one another. We have no secrets. We talk about things before they become issues and even if we disagree, we talk about it.

So, you see, my hormones were justified this week. I was broken over these marriages and rightly so.

What has God broken your heart about lately?

What do you specifically pray for your spouse about each day?

Take THAT Miss Piggle Wiggle

I’m pregnant. A lot of what I write when I’m pregnant is dictated by one of two things usually: Food and Hormones. Today’s post is sponsored by crazy pregnancy hormones.

Let me set the stage for you.

Growing up, I thought I could never fail. In fact, failure wasn’t even an option in my mind. My mom always told me “You can do whatever you put your mind to” and I believed her - seriously. I thought my mom knew everything and I just knew she was right about that too so I never thought that I wouldn’t succeed when I tried something.

I distinctly remember the very first time I ever* (*and by ever I mean the first big one, the one that counts in my mind) failed. I, on a whim and as my mom recounts the story “in the 5 minutes between school and cheerleading practice”, tried out for the jv soccer team. I didn’t make it. I guess I should have prefaced all of this with the fact that I’d never ever played soccer before, but, nonetheless…

I was devastated.

I cried and cried and cried because the heavy reality that I COULD fail weighed on my shoulders. In my naivety, honestly never considered it an option. It took me about a week to grieve the loss of my “un-failingness” (is this a word?) and then my resolve set in.

You guessed it. I worked my tail off the next year and made the soccer team. I turned failure on its head and created victory! Hooray! (Note: I was never “great” at soccer, but I played the rest of the time in high school and was great at running up and down the field and occasionally kicking the ball.)

Can you sense the next challenge? It wasn’t all butterflies and rainbows after making the soccer team.

My junior year in high school I took honors trigonometry. Throughout my high school career, I was a bit of a nerd and took the highest level in math you could take during that particular school year (another note: I am NOT that great at math either). About the middle of the year, we were sent home with a list of classes we needed to choose for the following year and in keeping with my track record, I chose AP Calculus. {Yes, we did all just shudder together.} I turned in my form and got my final class schedule a few weeks later.

To my shock and dismay, my schedule read “Honors Calculus” instead of “AP Calculus.” For some of you, you might be thinking “so what’s the big deal? Isn’t that better?!” And no, it wasn’t. Not for achieving, thought-she-could-not-fail-Bethany. I wanted a challenge. I didn’t want to pass Honors Calculus with all A’s because that would have left me wondering if I could have done AP just fine.

I went to my Trigonometry teacher, who - Lord forgive me - I cannot for the life of me remember her real name because I’ve always called her Miss  Piggle Wiggle (she really looks like her!), and asked why my schedule had been changed to Honors Calculus.

She said the one thing that a teacher should NEVER ever say to a student – “Oh Bethany, because you won’t succeed in AP Calculus.”

I’m gonna let that sink in for a minute.

…

No, I did not drop out of high school because I was so discouraged. No, I did not go home and cry because I wasn’t good enough. No, I did not report her.

Instead, I went to my guidance counselor’s office, got a little half sheet that said “Parent Override” and had my mom sign and say that I was to be put in AP Calculus my senior year. I went on to my senior year and successfully got a collection of A’s and B’s in my AP Calculus class. About 3 A’s on my report card deep, I marched down the hall to Miss Piggle Wiggle’s room and politely showed her my report card. “I just wanted to let you know that you were wrong. I, in fact, CAN succeed in AP Calculus.”

Take THAT Miss Piggle Wiggle!

Fast forward to today. Many failures and mistakes later, I stumbled across another blog and read a post about motherhood and how easy it is to think that you’re failing at the task while I was at lunch. It altered the course of my day. I cried (almost uncontrollably) throughout my lunch (yes, at a public restaurant) and all the way back to work. I gave myself a few minutes to recover in the parking lot and made my way back inside, bloodshot eyes and all.

I thought the rest of the day about Miss Piggle Wiggle and about my son. If you’re having trouble tying the two together in your mind, let me explain. Sometimes I feel as though I’m a failure to my son. I feel like I’ve let this precious 2-year-old down. Maybe it’s because I reacted to a situation to quickly and inappropriately, or because he won’t listen when I ask him to do something. Maybe it’s because I fed him a combination of Lucky Charms and sliced pepperoni for dinner one night, or because I don’t take him to the park often enough.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I’m a horrible parent, but I have my days when I really question whether I’m making all the best choices for my son. I end up comparing us to other families and get discouraged when we don’t match up in certain areas. There are little things that, as a mother, I know you can probably relate to. This little voice in my head says “Well good job, you breastfed your son for 17 months, but you bought all store-bought baby food and never made your own. What were you thinking?” Or “Congratulations, you work hard to help provide for your family, but someone else is raising your son.”

Let me stop right here and say bad decisions or even less favorable ones don’t outweigh the good ones. They don’t cancel out all your efforts to be a good mom. Just because your son put his feet on the table at the restaurant doesn’t mean you haven’t taught him a thousand times that we don’t do that. Don’t beat yourself up over things that the little voice in your head is telling you makes you a bad mom.

You’re not a bad mom. You’re just… a mom. One who is trying her hardest to parent her child or children day by day. Newsflash: no one’s child is perfect. That possibility was wiped out long ago when a certain couple ate the forbidden fruit. No one’s family is perfect. I guarantee you that the family that took their child to the zoo, the children’s museum, a birthday party, the library, and to make their own set of pottery in a week fed their kid popcorn and Oreos for lunch. Or they lost their kid at the mall. Or they snapped at their child when he/she dropped the piece of pizza into the tiger cage.  You get my point, right?

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” Psalm73:26

Thank you, Lord! I don’t HAVE to be perfect! Where I fail, God will pick me up and be my strength.

4Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.5Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. 6These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. 7Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. 8Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. 9Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates. Deuteronomy 6:4-9

Boil it down to the basics of what you’ve got to do, and this is it. Teach your children lovingly and with good conviction and when they grow up, they won’t forget what you’ve taught them! Tell them that Jesus is Lord and He wants what is best for us.

Keep trying to be a good mom. Because you are. It doesn’t matter what others think of you, what matters is that you make every decision while parenting out of love. I oftentimes have to remind myself that even though we jokingly say in our house “Oh it must be so hard to be a toddler” (complete with an eye roll), I bet it is difficult sometimes to be a child. Most decisions are made for you and you have little control over things. So even when I’m having a pity party about not being a “good mom”, I remember that I’m the only mom my son has and he thinks I’m wonderful.

I think you’re wonderful, too.

So, Miss Piggle Wiggle, take THAT! I passed AP Calculus with flying colors and now I’m raising a handsome and sweet little boy, with another baby on the way and whether you think so or not, I am a good mom and will spend the rest of my days trying to be the best mom to my children I can possibly be.