Roller Coaster Rides

     As we have looked at going to Disney for this fall, one of my biggest disappointments has been that it will be unsafe for me to go on any roller coaster rides because I'm pregnant.  This strikes me as just a bit ironic because my life since finding out I am pregnant has felt a lot like roller coaster ride. However, there is no sign that says women aren't allowed on the roller coaster of life.  When we moved into our house, I felt like we had arrived at our destination. I wanted to just sit back and enjoy the cotton candy after the ride we had earlier this year.
     Most of you are not aware of the roller coaster ride I have been on this past week. You know about my high point of finding out about having a little boy, but this past week has had a couple of lows as well. There have been some developments with my husbands job, so that it now appears to be just another stop along the way...not a permanent resting place as I had hoped. I'm not sure if this means another move is in order or not.  Emotionally this is challenging to me especially as a pregnant woman. I don't want to think about change. I want to nest.
     It takes a conscious choice to decide to think about the positives this situation.  I must admit that I've felt discouraged at times. A week ago on Tuesday I felt myself slowly sinking into a dark pit of depression, despite having just spent a whole weekend of positivity all about hope at the Love Life Women's Weekend. It has been a battle. Looking back at last week, I'm amazed at how quickly I forgot about the amazing ways God has provided for us. How could I ever doubt him when God has been so faithful to me?
     Saturday,  I went on a walk just to be quiet and listen to God as part of a Bible study I'm doing this fall called "Experiencing God". I found a bright red feather on the side of the path and despite hearing my mother's voice in my head telling me all the tiny bugs that were on it, I turned around and picked it up.  I said to God laughingly, "Are you preparing me for flight?" In my heart, I felt this strong impression that although I'd gone on a huge roller coaster last week that He wanted to show me how to fly when it got too overwhelming for me (like when I felt like I was sinking into depression). "Very good!", I said, "but how?" Instantly, my mind was taken back to when I learned how to cross-country ski.  One of the first things the instructor said was to look where you wanted to go. If you look at the ditch or the tree, that is where you'll end up. However, if you keep your eyes on the path your body will follow. In order to fly when I am sinking, all I have to do is lift my head up and take my eyes off my circumstances. If I fix my eyes on Jesus, I can feel my heart lifting up.
     This doesn't mean I won't go through the valleys of life. As a good friend pointed out, that's where God can really teach us. When it gets too overwhelming though, that's when I can change my focus and fly instead of sinking into the pit of despair.
      Mentally, I can picture my hubby and I in the front car of the roller coaster we're on. Jesus is sitting between both of us. I can picture Him slapping my husband on the back and grinning--maybe even letting out a little whoop of excitement as we slowly go upward toward the next hill. I can picture Him looking at the concern on my face, and leaning over to help me raise my hand to hold my hubby's already lifted hands. He then wraps His arms around my pregnant belly to provide extra protection from the bumps and hills ahead and whispers in my ear, "It's going to be ok! I will never leave you or forsake you." Click, click, click...here we go.

I Know I Should be Asleep

     I can't sleep. The news that we are having a boy for the first time is slowly sinking in, and all the emotions are a little overwhelming at this point.
     I've heard our sonographer tell us "It's a girl!" so many times that my initial reaction to her saying "It's a boy!" was shock and disbelief. Before this pregnancy, I've analyzed how different each one is and given my husband hope that I think it just might be a boy--not this time. All I could see were all the similarities. I was convinced that this was a girl. We even had a name that we agreed on. The last two babies have had to wait till they were almost born to have a name picked out. Looks like this one will have to wait a while too for a name.
      I grew up with one brother, and though it was never spoken out loud, we both knew who our parent's favorite was. I was my daddy's girl, and could do no wrong. My brother was clearly my mom's favorite. (Of course, my brother still tries to argue now that my mom unfairly favors me...but seriously, who does she can oodles of his favorite food for and who does she plan every family meal around??) Don't get me wrong, I love my mom; but I always felt like a bother. She was always working on something.  I'm sure she played with me at some point, but I don't have any memories of it. It wasn't until I was a teenager that I even actually remember my mom sitting through an entire movie without having a sewing project or laundry to fold while she watched. I remember my dad pushing me on the swings,  but never my mom. I remember cooking pretend food and having "meals" with him, but not her. She was the oldest of seven; so for her, doing the work so I even had a chance to play most of the time was a new concept...and how she showed her love. I had hardly any children in my neighborhood save two families that lived next door to us for a couple of years a peice. I was devastated when they moved. When I found out my favorite parent was sick with cancer, I was even more devastated. When he died though, I had a chance to really connect with my mom for the first time, and see her as being more fun than I had ever known her to be before. This wasn't till I was 13 though.
     When I found out the first time that I was having a girl, I was a little disappointed and sad.  I was afraid that she would naturally just love my hubby and not feel a connection to me the way I felt toward my mom as a young child.  I thought maybe moms just naturally love their sons more. You can imagine my surprise when I realized how much I loved my little girl, and she truly loved me. She truly loves her daddy too, but at least 50% of the time I'm tempted to say she is still a momma's girl. She still asks me to sleep with her at night; and for the three years she went away to school, I listened in disbelief at how much she missed me (all the while with tears streaming down her face). She still runs over to me for a hug before I leave, or even when she just feels sad. I've grown to understand how a deep a mother's connection to her daughter can be. Having four girls has been very healing for me. I know that they all have a great connection with my hubby, but I've watched them all love me too. Daddy is still primarily more fun than me, but I do have my moments that I shine. We do fun things together (like go to Chuck E. Cheese and take hot cocoa to the zoo to drink while we watch the animals).  I've pushed them on the swings a lot, and I do watch movies with them as much as once a week with my hands empty. However,  they help me with work that I never touched as a young child. There is a trade-off for them, but they don't seem to mind.
     I think deep down inside I've convinced myself that there is probably something wrong with me-that I'm only meant to mother girls. I think I rationalized that God knew I'd somehow mess up a boy, so He never gave me one. I've written about my challenge to submit to my hubby, and having more than four children has been one of those challenges...not that my hubby demands more children, but the objection that permanently altering our bodies so we can't have more offspring feels very unnatural was my husband's idea. It is easy for me to see his point and agree with him; but as I've said before this, I wasn't planning on being pregnant again this soon. I was hoping for a little more time before I plunged back into the attachment and sleep deprivation that a newborn brings. I've honestly struggled with my feelings over this a lot. It has been a daily choice to accept that this was God's timing for our next one. I always wanted to have between 2 and 4 children.  More than 4 seemed too big for me, but I'm so glad that we are having a fifth. If I would have stopped at four (which was my plan), I would have missed out on experiencing a son.
     This truly feels like a gift (dare I say) for honoring how my husband feels. I love my girls, but I'm so excited to have a chance to say to others "how different boys are".

The baby is a...

Boy! Wow! It's hard to believe it. We are all really excited. I'll write more later.

Just around the bend (part 2)

      On Sunday I will be 20 weeks pregnant, and we will find out the gender of our little one later this week. Stay tuned because I will announce it! I feel so much movement now whenever I stand still (which doesn't happen a lot). However, I've had a lot of time the past couple of days to be quiet and sit still. This weekend I'm having a little getaway with my mom. God bless my dear hubby and mother-in-law for watching the other kids! What a great time we are having listening to Joyce Meyer teach. Her book "Battlefield of the Mind" has made a huge impact on my life because I was a habitual negative thinker since I was a child. For years, I never thought about choosing what to think about. Awful thoughts would just run around in my head, and I thought I had no choice. Now, I'm much more intentional on what I dwell on.
      Reading back over my last post this morning brought back more memories. Lest you think that I have it all together, I'd like to tell you one more story. There was a period of time in between the start-up company but before the consulting offer where my faith muscles were very stretched. One morning as I was running, I was so upset with God that I began yelling at God "When are you going to do something? What are you waiting for?" I began pounding my feet on the treadmill and running as fast and hard as I could. If I could have, I would have broken the treadmill because I was so angry. My hubby who was upstairs came down to the basement to find out if I was ok. He asked me if I was yelling at someone,  and I explained that I was "talking" to God.
      My mom always says that it is ok to be angry with God and talk to Him about it...at least you are still communicating. Of course, I look back now; and I feel saddened that I would be so angry. I can easily see now how God was guiding us every step of the way.
     Our adventures have not been easy, but I have constantly felt God's presence.  I have never been alone, and I know He has carried me through the times of unbelief because in my heart I truly do want to believe.  He can look beyond my anger to the pain and fear that lies at the bottom of it all. He loves me despite my doubts and questions, and He brings answers in his time. He MAKES me lie down in green pastures to rest and wait even when I want to see what's just around the bend.

Just around the bend

     Yesterday when I read "Jesus Calling",  I was gently reminded of our tough day just one year ago. My hubby left his very nice paying job in March of 2011 to take a lower paying job with a start-up company, only to have to leave six weeks later. At that point, he started a home business. What a roller coaster ride that was! In late June, he began consulting for the company he currently works for, but the position only ran through the end of September.  I remember starting our first year of homeschooling very unsure of what our future held, while firmly trusting that God was sure.
      The company was pleased with my hubby's performance, and interviewed him for a position that he was very interested in. I thought clearly God had provided this as an answer to our prayers. One year ago yesterday,  we found out that they had decided to hire from within. I was so sad and disappointed--not with my hubby, but with God. Where else could I turn to though, so I continued to pray and believe that something out there was better for us.
     Little did I know that October 24th would be the start date for my husband to have the position he truly desired. I didn't know what was right around the corner. I couldn't see the future. I want to encourage you that if you are in a tough spot today that God can see the future,  and He promises to be with you till the day you die. He has an awesome plan for you, just hold on.

The planner

     I told you that I like to plan out my future. Would it surprise you to know that I starting planning a trip to Disney for this fall back in 2007? Now there are a lot of challenges regarding the trip.  The discounted tickets that I had planned on seem to be an impossibility because of the dates they are offered. Being pregnant was really not how I planned on going to Disney.  I had been looking forward to at least a couple of roller coaster rides, but that has all changed. As my pregnancy ticks away, my time of being more independent feels like it is quickly slipping away.
      A lot of times I find myself clinging to the familiarity of my plans instead of anticipating the good things that are still in store for me. It is difficult for me to accept when we don't complete what I had laid out for us to finish on our homeschooling planners. However, some of the most memorable moments of learning (that I know my children will carry with them the rest if their lives) have come when I am not trying to be control our schedule-times that I can see them hanging on my every word.
     It is hard to control the panic I feel when we are late for yet another appointment,  even if it is only by a couple of minutes. In the last month, I've realized what a difference it makes in my childrens attitude when God is able to help me keep my emotions in check and not holler about the fact that we are 5 minutes late. We've late several times in the past month, and they are completely oblivious to it. They walk in smiling instead of trying to keep up with my frantic pace.
     Planning is great to give direction and purpose; but without flexibility, it is just one more thing to be enslaved to. It is supposed to be helpful, not run our lives. My goal is becoming to plan for each day , but to enjoy it if my plans fall apart, knowing the Creator of the universe is really in charge of my life. I don't want it any other way.

Skeletons In The Closet

     I woke up at 3 in the morning several days after going through Great Banquet with a strong feeling that I needed to tell the truth to my mom about an event that happened when I was a Senior in high school.
      A few months before I turned 18, I made the decision to have sex with my boyfriend (who is my dear hubby that I write so much about). I was afraid of losing him, but I had no idea that my choice would lead me to a life lived in more fear than I had ever experienced before. The first time we were together, I became pregnant. I knew that if anyone found out that I would be kicked out of the small private Baptist school I attended. I'd seen it done to another girl that they'd discovered was pregnant and kicked out just a week before the end of her Senior year. 
    Contact sports that we played in P.E. became an issue, and I also had to fake several periods (so my mom would be in the dark). One lie led to so many others. I constantly lived with the fear of anyone knowing, and I became very paranoid. We planned on telling our parents over Christmas break, and hopefully I could switch to a different private school that would allow me to finish out my senior year. I dreaded telling my
mom because I knew it would break her heart. I had always played the role of the good girl in my family, and I really didn't want to lose her trust.
      When I was 14 weeks pregnant,  I began bleeding in large quantities and experienced what I now know to be contractions. I had been spotting for a couple of weeks, but I knew some women that did that through their entire pregnancies. I called up my boyfriend who was the only one that knew, and he tried to console me. It was a horrible experience. I ended up having a miscarriage in the upstairs bathroom of my house, and later that night I snuck out of my house for the first and only time to meet up with my boyfriend and go to the emergency room to confirm that my miscarriage was complete. Because I had turned 18 just two weeks prior, I was considered an adult and my mother was never notified.
      Later that night, I left against medical advice, still knowing I had a few hurdles to jump before this was all "over", and I had officially "gotten away with it". The next day was a school day, but I knew there was no way that I would be up for attending. If I didn't stop bleeding by that Friday, they would readmit me to the hospital for a D&C. Even if I did stop bleeding,  I had a doctor's appointment for Friday afternoon during school hours that I would have to sneak out for.
     The following morning my mom took one look at my white-as-a-sheet face and asked if I felt all right. The night before, I had told her I was having really bad cramps because of the my period. I simply told her how awful my cramping still was, and she let me take the day off from school.   Thursday night I was still bleeding,  but amazingly by Friday morning, I had stopped. Later that afternoon I successfully snuck out of school for my doctor appointment  and reentered an hour later without being missed (I had only missed study hall).
     At first it was a relief that no one had found out. I thought life could go back to normal, but the only problem with that was I was no longer the same person. I was dealing with the grief of losing a child, and all the lies that I told that I was planning on explaining still hung over my head since no one knew. The guilt was horrible, and overwhelming. I had no one to talk to except for my boyfriend; and though he was wonderfully kind, he soon became tired of my neediness. I became seriously depressed, and I literally felt like I was losing my mind.  My senior year was an awful memory. I watched other girls my age get pregnant out of wedlock, and I heard every snide remark said behind their back by so-called "Christians". They professed to love Christ but were incapable of loving others. I decided I wanted nothing to do with the church and their hypocrisy. For nearly seven years, I rarely stepped foot into a church; but once we began having children of our own, I slowly woke up to the fact that I did want them to go to church and know about God. Five years after our first child was born,  God began calling me back to Him. That fall when I went through the Great Banquet was a huge turning point for me. I realized how much I wanted to be a part of the church, and truly love others the way Christ calls us to. I want to change others perceptions of the church by being genuine and authentic, not pretending to have it all together. God began asking me to uncover my lies, and get real with those I'd tried to fool.
      When I woke up in the middle of the night, I tried to go back to sleep. I lay there for a long time telling God why it was a bad idea to tell my mother about my miscarriage. Finally, I did agree that I would tell her, but I asked Him for a sign as to when. That was when I realized the date was November 14th, 2007. God woke me up on the 13 year anniversary of my miscarriage. I decided that was a pretty good sign. I called her later that day to tell her that I had something to talk to her about the next time I was home.
     For the past 13 years I had lived in fear that if anyone knew my secret, they would despise me and not be my friend anymore, let alone love me. I always felt that I had to be perfect in order to be loved. I don't know who I thought I was fooling. If you are around me for even a few minutes,  I'm sure you could see how imperfect I am. However, that was the stupid lie I believed.  That Thanksgiving when I told my mom, she responded with so much love that I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I realized that nothing could EVER change her love for me. Two years later when I was given the opportunity to share my story with a small group of women, I was amazed by their response and by the people who later told me how much my story had helped them. I ended up sharing my story with them on the 15 year anniversary of my miscarriage. God's timing is amazing.
     The following year, I was asked to share my story publicly at a kick-off rally for "40 Days for Life".  This is a peaceful pro-life group that organizes a prayer and fasting vigil for 40 days along with community outreach programs for those in need of help. Some of you may be wondering where abortion fits into my story. I'm sad to admit that because of the depth of my fear of others finding out (and not being ready to be a mom) I called to find out the details of when and where I could have an abortion performed. I will never stand in judgment of those of you who have ever had a similar experience. The only reason I did not have an abortion is that my boyfriend said that it was absolutely not an option. I loved him and couldn't stand the thought of losing him, so I didn't pursue it any further. My heart truly goes out to girls that feel abortion is wrong (as I always have), but are so afraid of others knowing that they will do anything. I'm involved with "40 Days For Life" because I want to be there to comfort another girl that is just as afraid as I was and offer her my help.
     It was only after I was willing to be real about my secrets that God opened my eyes and heart to others in need around me. Sharing my story has changed my life for the better.
 
"40 Days For Life" fall campaign is from Sept. 26-Nov 4. If you would like to be involved in this international peaceful organization, please click on the link below for details of how to do so:
www.40daysforlife.com