Pregnancy is this crazy miracle. Stop and think about it for a minute. One day a baby is formed from practically nothing and then grows inside of a woman until she gives birth. The baby is living and moving inside the woman's body for months before entering into the world. That, my friends, is crazy!
I'll never forget the moment a few weeks ago when Brandon looked at me and said "Did you know that in some places, abortion would still be legal for you? Isn't that insane?" I sat, shocked, because I had been feeling my baby move for weeks. Long before anyone else could feel him kick, I knew there was a sweet child inside me, kicking and squirming around. How could any woman abort (aka KILL) a baby inside her, knowing, feeling, her baby was alive?
I know some woman love to be pregnant. Like, they relish in every moment of pregnancy, and the whole 10 months is easy for them. They have no complaints and think of pregnancy like any other year in their life.
If I'm honest (and let's be real, this is my blog - that I don't think anyone really reads anyways - so I'm always honest), I have to say that I don't enjoy pregnancy. Don't get me wrong, I love creating this life inside me and love the miracle that happens during pregnancy and am in awe of it still, even in my second go-round. But I don't feel good. I have moments where I feel ok, but I really never feel great during pregnancy. I go through the motions of life while I'm pregnant and I smile and carry on like everything is hunky dory but there's a good chance I'm grimacing inside. Not because I don't want to be pregnant. Because I do. But because I'm uncomfortable and lots of time in pain.
I'm short. Pretty short anyways, I stand at a whopping 5'2. I also have a short torso. This means there isn't a ton of space for a growing baby. And with both of my pregnancies, my ribs have expanded... a lot. And this is painful. My narrow hips also expand and this, too, causes me many nights of pain and sleeplessness. I also spend a lot of time being nauseous. When I was pregnant with Paxton, I was somewhat nauseous every.single.day. With this pregnancy, I was so intensely nauseous during the first 15 weeks that I wasn't sure I would survive. The morning sickness has subsided considerably, but if I get hungry at all, there's a good chance nausea is right around the corner. The task of feeding myself to stay ahead of the nausea is highly annoying. Especially because aside from the frozen lemonade craving and a few other random, isolated cravings, I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I WANT TO EAT. I wish it was simple, but I look in my pantry and fridge, night after night, and shut the doors in frustration because I just don't know what I want to eat. And I've tried walking the aisles at the grocery store. Same thing. Nada.
Chances are, if I complain out loud, there are 15 times I've complained in my head. I'm so cautious about complaining about aches and pains during pregnancy because I know there are so many women who would give anything to be pregnant, or who have lost a baby during pregnancy. I know there were months where I begged God to be pregnant and to expand out family and was devastated when I found out I wasn't. We didn't even tell people we were really "trying" because it was too devastating to me to find out over and over again that we weren't. The last thing I wanted was people checking in on our progress.
So I don't want to complain because I don't want people to think I'm not grateful. Because I am so grateful and so thrilled to be blessed with bringing another life into this world. BUT, being grateful doesn't negate the fact that I'm nauseous, I can't breathe, my hips hurt, I have nerve pain through my stomach, my ribs ache, I feel fat, I get winded when I move too fast, my fingers and ankles are swollen, my skin feels like its going to explode, I'm having annoying Braxton Hicks contractions several times every hour, I fight obnoxious amounts of phlegm and snot every day, my back is screaming at me, I'm constantly hungry, I'm tired, my feet hurt, I'm hot, I have to pee 3 times every night, coffee (one of my favorite things ever) makes me gag, my nose is on serious high alert and can pick up smells that will make me sick in a nanosecond, some foods that I usually love taste different, I can't reach my toes to paint them (and its summer!), its hard to shave my legs, I can't stand or sit too long before I'm miserable, I'm not comfortable... ever. ETC.
So, the truth about pregnancy for me is that while I don't enjoy feeling miserable the majority of a year, I relish in the fact that I'm growing a sweet miracle who I know is going to change my life and I am so incredibly grateful that God picked me to carry this baby until he comes into the world.
The truth is, I'll probably want to do this again in a few years, and unless something is drastically different, I'm probably spend 10 months silently complaining to myself about how badly I feel but knowing that I am wildly blessed. There's just nothing quite like looking at my baby boy and realizing that every ache and pain is erased because he is worth it a thousand times over.
The truth is, I'm incredibly grateful.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Things I Don't Want To Forget
I've often said throughout this little blog that I have a terrible memory. Its true. I can't remember so much that I wish I could. Honestly, I attribute it mainly to my own little version of PTSD. My family went through a traumatic shattering when I got home from my freshman year of college. By shattering, I mean just that. Picture a beautifully clear window, with no imperfections, fresh coat of paint around the edges. Now picture a sledgehammer swinging through the early summer breeze and creating tiny shards of splintered glass. I can almost hear the noise, almost feel sharp edges of barely visible pieces of glass pricking my arms.
We were never the same. Sure, we were versions of ourselves, but mainly masks over cut and bleeding selves for a long time. The psychology of the whole thing - a divorce - is mind-blowing, almost too much. I would argue that these events changed me - and Mom and Josh - literally. All three of us have battled terrible memories since these events. Now you might laugh at this, but I don't remember having a bad memory prior to this. But seriously!
I didn't even mean to write all of that, but now that its done, I think I'll leave it. Sorry to have started out such a fun post with such a depressing story. If it helps at all, we have all moved on and are happy. Simply, wonderfully, happy. And time will tell, but for now, we're ok. Thank you, Lord.
Anywho... on to the memories I just can't bear to forget.
I've had a few moments of pregnancy brain so far this pregnancy and they are just too humorous to forget. There was that one day a few weeks ago when I left my keys at Michaels and the cashier had to come running after me because I was oblivious. In my defense, I would have probably figured it out eventually :)
The next pregnancy brain moments is one of my favorites. I was picking Paxton up from the sitter's house and was busy writing her a check when she interrupted me. She looked at my quizzically and said "Made to the order of... Paxton??" I wrote a check to my 2-year-old. Hilarious!
The other day I had picked Paxton up after work and as we were driving down the road, I asked him how his day was, what he did, etc. Then I asked him what he had for lunch, and he answered. Then I asked if he had a snack and his response made me immediately burst with laughter. He said "Mom, I've already answered this question. Please do not ask me that again." This kid!
Another Paxton-ism while we were driving down the road the other day... I heard from the backseat soft singing (as I usually do when we're in the car, you know, Wheels on the Bus, The Farmer in the Dell, etc) then abruptly "Goodness gracious! We're gonna have to get some scissors and cut that!" I have no idea what he was referring to but my little toddler sounded so grown up!
We were never the same. Sure, we were versions of ourselves, but mainly masks over cut and bleeding selves for a long time. The psychology of the whole thing - a divorce - is mind-blowing, almost too much. I would argue that these events changed me - and Mom and Josh - literally. All three of us have battled terrible memories since these events. Now you might laugh at this, but I don't remember having a bad memory prior to this. But seriously!
I didn't even mean to write all of that, but now that its done, I think I'll leave it. Sorry to have started out such a fun post with such a depressing story. If it helps at all, we have all moved on and are happy. Simply, wonderfully, happy. And time will tell, but for now, we're ok. Thank you, Lord.
Anywho... on to the memories I just can't bear to forget.
I've had a few moments of pregnancy brain so far this pregnancy and they are just too humorous to forget. There was that one day a few weeks ago when I left my keys at Michaels and the cashier had to come running after me because I was oblivious. In my defense, I would have probably figured it out eventually :)
The next pregnancy brain moments is one of my favorites. I was picking Paxton up from the sitter's house and was busy writing her a check when she interrupted me. She looked at my quizzically and said "Made to the order of... Paxton??" I wrote a check to my 2-year-old. Hilarious!
The other day I had picked Paxton up after work and as we were driving down the road, I asked him how his day was, what he did, etc. Then I asked him what he had for lunch, and he answered. Then I asked if he had a snack and his response made me immediately burst with laughter. He said "Mom, I've already answered this question. Please do not ask me that again." This kid!
Another Paxton-ism while we were driving down the road the other day... I heard from the backseat soft singing (as I usually do when we're in the car, you know, Wheels on the Bus, The Farmer in the Dell, etc) then abruptly "Goodness gracious! We're gonna have to get some scissors and cut that!" I have no idea what he was referring to but my little toddler sounded so grown up!
Monday, May 13, 2013
Fear Versus Peace
This may be one of the longer posts I've written, so you've been warned!
Do you ever hear a still, small voice whispering things to you that you don't want to hear? I'm not talking about the voice telling you to eat that third cupcake, I'm talking about the voice that whispers serious change in your future. I'm talking about God preparing you for the road ahead.
I am 21 weeks pregnant.
I've heard that voice since the beginning of this pregnancy, whispering - almost inaudibly - that something will be wrong with this baby. I have chosen to ignore this voice for almost 20 weeks. I have not mentioned the whisperings to Brandon, nor spoken them aloud to anyone else, for fear that if I voiced them aloud, they would be true.
Two weeks ago, something that I can only think of as being divine happened. My stepfather called with news that he suddenly had an extra ticket to the golf tournament in Charlotte and he wanted Brandon to go with him. I joked with my Mom and said I wanted to crash their guys weekend, take Paxton with us and go for a spontaneous weekend getaway. Well, we ended up doing just that. Deryl upgraded the hotel reservation, and we all piled in the car Saturday morning and set off for a fun weekend in Charlotte. Sunday morning Brandon and Deryl went to the golf tournament and here's where the divine happened.
Mom, Paxton and I attended Elevation Church Sunday morning. During the last worship song before Pastor Steven came on stage, to the words about God's glorious grace, I clearly heard a voice tell me that something would be wrong with my baby. The voice also told me that even though this was the case, not to worry because God already knew and was preparing Brandon and I to be able to handle this. Pastor Steven came out on stage during that song and talked about God's grace. How grace literally meant weight and God's grace wasn't a puny grace, it was a weighty grace that was enough. Enough.
The strangest thing happened.
I felt fear and peace battle each other all morning. I could not keep it together. Big, wet, elephant tears streamed down my face the entirety of the church service. The message was actually a Q&A about God's Will and e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g that was said, was said to me.
I cried because I did not know what was wrong with my baby. I cried because I didn't know if there was something I had done to harm my baby. I cried because I was afraid of what it could be. I cried because I wasn't sure I could be strong enough.
I cried because I was ashamed that I wasn't sure I trusted that voice telling me it would be ok.
Leaving that church I knew I was being prepared for some measure of uncertainty in the rest of this pregnancy. I was calm because, well, I don't know why. I was just calm. Afraid, but calm.
I was able to barely whisper my fears to Mom on the way home from Charlotte, only because I know what a prayer warrior she is and I knew I needed that.
I didn't get up the nerve to tell Brandon my fears until a few nights later. Our conversation went a little like this: "Babe, I have something to tell you." By the seriousness in my tone, Brandon slowly turned to pay full attention. "I think God is telling me that there is something wrong with the baby."
Brandon looked away and said "He's been telling me too."
And then I cried some more. I told him about the voice I'd heard since the beginning of the pregnancy and my experience at Elevation Church. I told him how afraid I was, but that I had been praying almost non-stop for clarity and peace and that I thought God was already preparing us to be the parents of this child. We shared an intimate moment talking about our fears and about how God was busy assuring us.
Two days later we had our ultrasound. While we were excited about finding out the sex of our baby, we were both very anxious about hearing the ultrasound technician tell us what was wrong with the baby.
As she looked at our baby, she reassured us things were looking great and if she didn't say so, we asked, and then she would tell us. I was feeling so much better. I saw a healthy brain, a beating heart, tiny ribs, and all 4 limbs.
And then we looked at the kidneys. "I'm seeing something with the kidneys, but you aren't hearing this from me," she said. And while the blood rushed to my ears and muted my hearing, I was able to hear her say "The doctor will tell you more about this and I don't want to alarm you, but he will want to talk to you about your baby's kidneys being filled with excess fluid."
I had to remind myself to breathe.
The scan continued and I tried to get excited about the fact that we were going to learn the gender soon. We had asked that the technician not tell us, but rather seal up the results so we could have a gender reveal party.
The wait after the scan until we got to see the doctor seemed like forever. We took pictures with our sealed envelope, checked our email, and talked nervously in spurts. And then I made the mistake of googling. Note to self: Don't google medical conditions when you're pregnant because it seriously just leads to major anxiety. When we finally got to talk with the doctor, the only thing on my mind was the baby's kidneys. The doctor confirmed that the baby's kidneys were swollen and filled with excess fluid. He also assured us that this was a fairly common occurrence and would likely clear up before our next ultrasound, which would be in four weeks.
I kept feeling that calm feeling again.
My experience the last 2 weeks I'm sure mirrors lots of other couples'. I heard God speaking to me gently at first and then He knew I needed to be prepared for our ultrasound so He spoke more loudly and grabbed my attention. I'm not sure I've ever felt anxiety and peace at war like I did over the last week. I'm not completely at peace, and won't be until our next ultrasound, but the worry isn't all consuming like one might think. I am resting in this fact: God has been preparing Brandon and I to be the parents of this child and we are being equipped in ways we aren't even aware of yet. God won't give us anything we can't handle, and we know we will love this child no matter what.
I am quite sure that my child is perfect. This baby is being perfectly shaped to fit into our lives and perfect for us. I am thrilled that we are being entrusted with another life and I can't wait to meet this baby.
If you're reading this, we would be honored if you would join with us in prayer for our baby.
Do you ever hear a still, small voice whispering things to you that you don't want to hear? I'm not talking about the voice telling you to eat that third cupcake, I'm talking about the voice that whispers serious change in your future. I'm talking about God preparing you for the road ahead.
I am 21 weeks pregnant.
I've heard that voice since the beginning of this pregnancy, whispering - almost inaudibly - that something will be wrong with this baby. I have chosen to ignore this voice for almost 20 weeks. I have not mentioned the whisperings to Brandon, nor spoken them aloud to anyone else, for fear that if I voiced them aloud, they would be true.
Two weeks ago, something that I can only think of as being divine happened. My stepfather called with news that he suddenly had an extra ticket to the golf tournament in Charlotte and he wanted Brandon to go with him. I joked with my Mom and said I wanted to crash their guys weekend, take Paxton with us and go for a spontaneous weekend getaway. Well, we ended up doing just that. Deryl upgraded the hotel reservation, and we all piled in the car Saturday morning and set off for a fun weekend in Charlotte. Sunday morning Brandon and Deryl went to the golf tournament and here's where the divine happened.
Mom, Paxton and I attended Elevation Church Sunday morning. During the last worship song before Pastor Steven came on stage, to the words about God's glorious grace, I clearly heard a voice tell me that something would be wrong with my baby. The voice also told me that even though this was the case, not to worry because God already knew and was preparing Brandon and I to be able to handle this. Pastor Steven came out on stage during that song and talked about God's grace. How grace literally meant weight and God's grace wasn't a puny grace, it was a weighty grace that was enough. Enough.
The strangest thing happened.
I felt fear and peace battle each other all morning. I could not keep it together. Big, wet, elephant tears streamed down my face the entirety of the church service. The message was actually a Q&A about God's Will and e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g that was said, was said to me.
I cried because I did not know what was wrong with my baby. I cried because I didn't know if there was something I had done to harm my baby. I cried because I was afraid of what it could be. I cried because I wasn't sure I could be strong enough.
I cried because I was ashamed that I wasn't sure I trusted that voice telling me it would be ok.
Leaving that church I knew I was being prepared for some measure of uncertainty in the rest of this pregnancy. I was calm because, well, I don't know why. I was just calm. Afraid, but calm.
I was able to barely whisper my fears to Mom on the way home from Charlotte, only because I know what a prayer warrior she is and I knew I needed that.
I didn't get up the nerve to tell Brandon my fears until a few nights later. Our conversation went a little like this: "Babe, I have something to tell you." By the seriousness in my tone, Brandon slowly turned to pay full attention. "I think God is telling me that there is something wrong with the baby."
Brandon looked away and said "He's been telling me too."
And then I cried some more. I told him about the voice I'd heard since the beginning of the pregnancy and my experience at Elevation Church. I told him how afraid I was, but that I had been praying almost non-stop for clarity and peace and that I thought God was already preparing us to be the parents of this child. We shared an intimate moment talking about our fears and about how God was busy assuring us.
Two days later we had our ultrasound. While we were excited about finding out the sex of our baby, we were both very anxious about hearing the ultrasound technician tell us what was wrong with the baby.
As she looked at our baby, she reassured us things were looking great and if she didn't say so, we asked, and then she would tell us. I was feeling so much better. I saw a healthy brain, a beating heart, tiny ribs, and all 4 limbs.
And then we looked at the kidneys. "I'm seeing something with the kidneys, but you aren't hearing this from me," she said. And while the blood rushed to my ears and muted my hearing, I was able to hear her say "The doctor will tell you more about this and I don't want to alarm you, but he will want to talk to you about your baby's kidneys being filled with excess fluid."
I had to remind myself to breathe.
The scan continued and I tried to get excited about the fact that we were going to learn the gender soon. We had asked that the technician not tell us, but rather seal up the results so we could have a gender reveal party.
The wait after the scan until we got to see the doctor seemed like forever. We took pictures with our sealed envelope, checked our email, and talked nervously in spurts. And then I made the mistake of googling. Note to self: Don't google medical conditions when you're pregnant because it seriously just leads to major anxiety. When we finally got to talk with the doctor, the only thing on my mind was the baby's kidneys. The doctor confirmed that the baby's kidneys were swollen and filled with excess fluid. He also assured us that this was a fairly common occurrence and would likely clear up before our next ultrasound, which would be in four weeks.
I kept feeling that calm feeling again.
My experience the last 2 weeks I'm sure mirrors lots of other couples'. I heard God speaking to me gently at first and then He knew I needed to be prepared for our ultrasound so He spoke more loudly and grabbed my attention. I'm not sure I've ever felt anxiety and peace at war like I did over the last week. I'm not completely at peace, and won't be until our next ultrasound, but the worry isn't all consuming like one might think. I am resting in this fact: God has been preparing Brandon and I to be the parents of this child and we are being equipped in ways we aren't even aware of yet. God won't give us anything we can't handle, and we know we will love this child no matter what.
I am quite sure that my child is perfect. This baby is being perfectly shaped to fit into our lives and perfect for us. I am thrilled that we are being entrusted with another life and I can't wait to meet this baby.
If you're reading this, we would be honored if you would join with us in prayer for our baby.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Week 19 and 20 Pregnancy Comparison Pictures
I've been slacking on posting lately. Honestly I've been so busy with life (work, blogging at Penny Filled Pantry, family, working out, and planning an awesome party- stay tuned) that I haven't had time to post here.
Here is what I looked like at week 19:
Here's my comparison of what I looked like at 19 weeks during my 1st pregnancy versus what I looked like during 19 weeks this pregnancy:
Here is what week 20 looked like:
Here's what week 20 looked like during my first pregnancy versus pregnancy number 2:
Stay tuned for our gender reveal soon!
Here is what I looked like at week 19:
Here's my comparison of what I looked like at 19 weeks during my 1st pregnancy versus what I looked like during 19 weeks this pregnancy:
Here is what week 20 looked like:
Stay tuned for our gender reveal soon!
Monday, April 15, 2013
17 Weeks Pregnant With Baby #2
How far along? 17 weeks
Weight gain? Ummm... 13lbs already! I wanted to fall off the scale at the doctor's office. How is it possible to gain weight this quickly?! Morning sickness? MUCH much better. I've resigned myself to that yucky feeling every morning and practically run to the kitchen to get breakfast as soon as I wake up. I also have to chew minty gum every second I'm not eating. Weird but it helps keep that slight queasy feeling away.
Maternity clothes? Pants still, but I'm trying to rock non-maternity tops for as long as possible. Someone please feel free to prove me wrong, but for the most part, maternity shirts are NOT cute. I just don't have any desire to look like I'm wearing a flowery potato sack.
Best moment this week? Getting to hear baby #2's heartbeat again at our doctor's appointment! Plus we got to schedule our anatomy scan ultrasound where we'll find out the sex of the baby! Eeeeee!!! SO excited! We will be having a gender reveal party so stay tuned for some (hopefully) "Pin-able" pictures and an update of what baby #2 is!
Movement? Kicks and flips! Baby has been kicking mostly on the right side but I noticed a funny feeling earlier this week and then kicks on the left side! Someone is swimming laps in there! ;) As far as MY movements (aka exercise) I wrote a post about running during the first trimester and will have an update soon on how exercising and running in the second trimester is going.
Food cravings? Nothing really spectacular still. Totally bummed about this. I guess maybe I should be grateful because cravings could be anything...
Food aversions? Coffee for sure and sweets somewhat. I've actually eaten a few pieces of candy (first time in 4 months!!) and a few random bites of dessert here and there. Then during the middle of this past week, I started thinking non-stop about a blueberry cake donut from Dunkin Donuts and decided to do what my hubby has been telling me "follow your craving", so I did! I scarfed that donut down in about 35 seconds! :) I had to pop a piece of gum immediately afterwards so my tummy didn't get too queasy but it sure was delicious.
What I’m looking forward to… Finding out the sex of this baby!!
Here is my comparison of pregnancy #1 and #2 in the same week... The picture on the left is me 17 weeks pregnant with baby #1 and the picture on the right is me pregnant now with baby #2!
Am I carrying totally different this time or what!?
Thursday, March 28, 2013
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?
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?
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
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-
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.
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