On My Last Nerve

    The hardest thing about the past week or so has been the pinched nerves the baby has occasionally  been sitting on. Every once in a while when I'm walking, I move (or he moves) just right...and oh, the agony! Something even more painful happened to me this past Sunday. It really got on my nerves too.  I don't like to be wrong.
      I thought my water had broken at the concert Sunday night; but after nothing happening to indicate active labor, my midwife tested me and confirmed that it wasn't amniotic fluid. We are calling it "mystery fluid", since I know that I did not pee my pants! Initially, I was pretty disappointed. My hubby had gotten everything ready (including our hot tub) and had taken the day off of work. I felt like a failure (this is child number 5...how can I not tell??) and embarrassed since I had even posted on Facebook that my water had broken. Some of you may be smiling and understanding now why I was a perfect candidate for the "No More Perfect Moms" launch team (which comes out next Monday).
     Yesterday while I was running I was relieved when I realized that although I am severely imperfect...God is not. In her book, Jill Savage says, "We must understand that the imperfect parts of our lives are counterbalanced with the reality of a perfect God who longs to shine His light through the cracks of our lives." His timing is always amazing. I thought back to last year's fast and how I really wanted to stay in our old house. I had the thought in my mind, " What if God wants to give you something better?" Of course, I put that clause into my new prayers saying, "Well, God, if you want to give us something better, help me to let go of what we have." However, last summer when we were nearing our closing date with an RV or apartment in what seemed to be our new future, I had a hard time understanding what God was up to. He was preparing, what for me was, a real life miracle (click here to read more). Trust is hard when you are unsure of the outcome, but trust goes hand in hand with faith. The longer I've walked in relationship with God, the more I've realized that He always has a really good reason for answering my prayer "No" or "Not yet".
     I wrote all this last night while bathing our children, and this morning there was a lovely puddle when I got up from cuddling my four-year old who had a bad dream. Is it more "mystery fluid"? Well, it changed the litmus strip green, so I think we're in business...but this imperfect mama will let you all know. Time to let the Perfect One shine through these imperfect cracks of mine.

Let's Get This Labor Started

                Last time I went into labor, I was at a Lincoln Brewster Concert celebrating my youngest daughter’s second birthday.  He came out to perform an encore number—“Everlasting God”.  That song will forever be significant to me.  That’s when my water broke.  It was only 9pm at night. I was expecting to have a really fast labor like the last time (my whole labor from the time my water broke till the time she was out was only 1 hour and 40 min.).  I asked God to please let me wait till at least midnight, so the baby could have her own birthday.  Thankfully, that labor was the easiest labor, not the quickest.  I even got to go to sleep in my bed that night.  We didn’t leave for the hospital till 4am, and I delivered 26 minutes after getting to the hospital.  I went from being dilated to 6cm to  being complete in a contraction and a half.  I didn’t even have time to sign my consent.  God answered my prayer, and my youngest has her own birthday because my labor took a while to get going.  I also really loved laboring at home, and that is part of the reason I’m excited about doing everything at home this time.

                My first two daughters came early, so I naturally thought that I would always go early.  My third daughter waited until 40 weeks and 3 days to come.  I tried all kinds of physical exertion to try to get her to come, and all that happened was that I had lots of contractions that stopped…and I became really, really exhausted.  She didn’t come till she was ready.  I learned from that experience not to get too set on “making” a baby come because it doesn’t seem to work.  (Yes, I know all about the joys of Caster Oil…but I would only do that in extreme desperation because of the yucky side effect my midwife has confirmed would be an issue for me.)

                This time around I’d really like to have the baby before February 1^st.  My second oldest has requested the baby be born this coming Monday on her half-birthday.  She is the same one that told me last year, “The only thing I want for Christmas is a baby!”  I think the baby would make a nice half-birthday present.  Winter Jam is this Sunday evening, and I plan on going.  Maybe this will get my labor started.  If not, I look forward to hearing some Toby Mac, (the baby should feel right at home because I’ve been running to Toby Mac’s newest CD for the past two months while I run) Jamie Grace, Royal Tailor, and Matthew West.

                In the meantime, I will continue to ponder the verse at the end of “Everlasting God” from Isaiah 40:31.  It says, “But those who wait on the LORD shall renew their strength; They shall mount up on wings like eagles.  They shall run and not be weary.  They shall walk and not faint.”  God knows my heart’s desire, but I also trust that His timing is better than mine.  Let’s see what happens!

"Where, O Where, Are You Tonight?"

                “Why did you leave me here all alone?  I searched the world over and thought I found true love.  You met another; and pfft, you were gone.”  I remember watching the TV show “ Hee Haw” as a child, and this was one of the reoccurring songs that my brother still finds funny to this day.  My dad let us watch it along with a few other shows he enjoyed, but I remember my mom really disliking this show.  From what I remember besides money, TV was one of my parent’s main sources of conflict.  My mom would call the TV the “boob tube” with great disgust and only turned it on to watch the weather.  Every marriage goes through conflict.

                In Jill Savage’s new book, No More Perfect Moms, she talks about the impossibilities of a perfect marriage.  She says, “If we’re honest, real marriage brings our ‘yuck’ to the surface.  Selfishness and pride raise their ugly heads in the everday life of a normal marriage.  After all we like things the way we like them.  Our way is the right way.  Our rationale is always more logical than our spouse’s rationale.  Right?”  She goes on to talk about how pride really is at the core of many of our problems by saying, “Perfect marriages don’t exist because they are made up of two imperfect people.  Unfortunately, pride keeps us from admitting just how imperfect we are.”  The chapter tells about more of her own challenges in her marriage along with resources for dealing with divorce, infidelity, pornography issues, and male depression.  This is coming from someone who has experienced pain, even recently.  She talks very openly in her book about her husband’s decision a little over a year ago to walk out on her and their family.  I really admire her honesty and willingness to share about her personal life because in many ways we can all relate.

                The lines about pride have resonated with me recently because of some conflict that I’ve experienced with my husband.  He expressed to me his desire for me to come to bed at the end of the day with him.  I’ve been aware of this desire for the past few months, but I’ve really struggled not falling asleep when I cuddle my little ones at their bedtimes.  What I never really considered, until he pointed it out, was that this has been an ongoing problem since we were first married.  At first, I was furious and could only see my point of view (and I had a million reasons/excuses).   I felt like he had no perspective on how hard it was for me to accomplish this.  I apologized, but I honestly struggled with the criticism.  I don’t take criticism very well.  The next day, I still felt grumpy about it while I ran…but the more I prayed about it the more I realized how wrong I really was.  This was one area that would really help my hubby feel like a priority, so why was I being so stupid about it?  Wouldn’t I want him to change if something he was doing (or not doing) was making me feel like low man on the totem pole?  I love my hubby.  He is my best friend.  It’s time to be intentional about a change, so he no longer has to ask the question, “Where, o where, are you tonight?”

                What about you?  Is there anything that pride is getting in the way of you changing? 

Treading Softly

                Tomorrow will mark the first day of my 37^th week of pregnancy, and I’m excited that I’m to the point where I can have a baby at home.  The last two weeks I have been acutely aware of the fact that if I were to go into labor no one would stop me.  I also would be unable to have a home birth, so I have been slightly more cautious than usual.  I have also noticed in the past two weeks that I have a ton more contractions.  I sometimes wake up from them in the middle of the night. This past week, I began drinking raspberry tea (for uterine toning).  I love it!  I also started drinking Shepherd’s purse tea.  I don’t love it, but it is supposed to help with hemorrhaging after the baby is born.  There are many days that I don’t feel like running too, and still I continue to do that because of how much easier my pregnancy has been so far.  I guess drinking this tea is similar to that.  My oldest smelled the tea a few days ago, and said, “It smells just like asparagus!”  I’m not a huge fan of asparagus, but I don’t mind having it fresh from the garden.  Now I think of asparagus while I drink the tea.  My next oldest smelled it yesterday and said, “It doesn’t smell like asparagus; it smells just like a squished caterpillar.”  I refuse to think about squashed bugs while I drink my tea.  Asparagus is as far as I will go.  If you are reading this blog and know any tricks to making the tea more palatable please leave me a comment.  I have found that adding lemon to it tastes really horrible (I love lemon with my asparagus, so I thought why not try adding it to my “asparagus tea”).  Trust me…don’t try it!

                I have continued running, but during week 35 of my pregnancy I became a little discouraged.  I usually run 30 minutes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.  On Wednesday of that week, I had back to back contractions after 20 minutes of running.  I chose to walk till I hit 30 minutes.  That was the first time I had that many contractions during running.  I wasn’t too worried though because all of the issues that have caused me to stop running during pregnancy (which has happened 3 or 4 times) resolve before the next time I run.  However, when I started running on Friday, it didn’t feel right.  I felt out of breath which is clearly not good for the baby, and I stopped after just five minutes.  I felt a little defeated.  My original midwife instructed me that instead of just looking at the heart rate I had during exercise that I should look at how I was feeling.  If I was able to easily talk during running, then it was fine to continue running.  That Friday, I wondered if I had just reached the point in my pregnanc y where I just wouldn’t be able to run anymore.  I pondered it all weekend, and this Monday I tried something a little different.  I tried slowing my pace down, and guess what?  It worked.  I can still run, and sing my heart out.  Small adjustments can make all the difference.

                I don’t love running.  However, this is what I’ve learned in this pregnancy.  I didn’t feel tired my first trimester at all--save one or two days. I’m not anywhere near as fatigued at the end of my pregnancy as I was with the other four pregnancies.  I can still make my weekly trip to Wal-mart without losing my breath or feeling like I have to sit down afterward.  I used to feel exhausted just going from side to side while putting clean sheets on my bed.  I can even still run up my stairs. I’ve also noticed the swelling that I sometimes have in my ankles completely disappears after I run.  This makes running totally worth it to me; so I will continue to run on my treadmill, just a little slower and softer than I started out.

Taming of the Two

                Sometimes you get a wake-up call…a little slap in the face.  I recently got that in the form of a comment from my mom.  I’m thankful that she can honestly tell me things out of love when she notices something is off.  I’m by nature an empathetic person, but sometimes I go a little overboard.  Lately, I’ve noticed a lack of politeness in my 2 and 4 year olds.  My older two just need a simple word, and they shape right up…but apparently I have been indulging my youngest two a little too much.  Some of it is normal, but some of it is over the top. 

                I do not think it is too much to expect of my two (soon to be three in a couple of months) year old to change her commands into requests.  I hate hearing, “Get me more water!”  I used to be delighted with her vocabulary…now I’m thinking it’s time to get her trained to be a little more polite by rephrasing it into, “Mommy, could you get me a drink of water, please?”  I don’t expect her to come up with this on her own though, so I will guide her by having her repeat after me.  The whining of my four year old has also become incessant.  This, I’ve realized, is mainly because she is trying to get my attention above the other three people asking for my attention…and this really annoys me.  Thus, she usually gets a response.  I’m going to try to stop this by asking the other three kids to be quiet and let her speak.  She rarely whines when it is just the two of us or in a quiet setting (same thing with my 2 year old commando).  I actually think both of these responses have more to do with needing attention than anything.  I naturally follow a command more closely than a request; however, it is really inappropriate since I’m supposed to be the boss.  We’ve had a few heart to heart talks about this; and although my expectations are changing for both of them in this area, I think that it’s completely appropriate for their age.

                Also, a wise friend has pointed out that I need to phrase my corrections positively.   I used to say, “Don’t yell!” However, it would be better to say, “Can you speak more quietly?” or “Please, say that nicely.”  She said that kids visualize in their head what you say, so they will visualize the negative and naturally do more of that with that image in their head.  If you phrase it positively, they will picture the positive request in their head and have an easier time doing it.

                What do you think?  What are your expectations for your child?  I’d love to hear your input in the comments below!

Beloved

I remember back when I was dating my husband all the feelings that went along with it.  As the years went by, I realized that our love had grown beyond just feelings to a deeper level that involved things like friendship and commitment.  Romance may no longer mean being whisked off my feet to my favorite restaurant at a minutes’ notice and showered in presents.  It is him seeing the huge pile of dishes and washing them for me.   It is him hearing that I’d scraped up the van against the garage wall and saying that everyone makes mistakes.  It is him taking the time to get the hot tub up and running just because I said I’d like to float around in the water for the next month while waiting for our next baby to arrive.  It is him encouraging me to have the baby in the hot tub if I want to when I do go into labor, despite knowing that he will be on his own to clean up the mess.  It has been him watching the girls for me while I have been absent overnight several times.  Our love is different, but no less wonderful.

                I read the book “Captivating” by John and Stasi Elderidge a couple of years ago.  It talks about how God made you to want to be romanced, but this is not something you can look to your husband (or any man like your father or boyfriend) to solely fulfill. I have experienced a lot of love in the past few days from God.  In all honesty, there are parts of me that feel unready to have another little needy soul clinging tightly to me.  I don’t like to admit it, but part of me just longs to be free.  I keep confessing out loud that I trust God that this little one He has blessed us with will be a great gift and the best thing for me right now. On Saturday, I felt so selfish about the whole thing that I asked God if He would help me to cheer up.  Within moments, I heard my girls shouting about how it was snowing.   Snow is my favorite weather of all, and I adore snow globes.  When I looked out the window, it wasn’t just little puny flakes but big fluffy one that turned the whole outdoors into a giant snow globe.  I couldn’t help but smile.  A few minutes later, we received a surprise package in the mail…a house-warming present from a dear friend.  I had to smile again.  Then, I received one of the best compliments ever from a good friend.  Some people would brush this off as just coincidence, but I felt like I had just been given a great big hug from God.  It didn’t stop there.   A couple days later, another friend invited me to pick up some boy clothes that she no longer needed.  Just that morning, I had been telling God that I would really love to have some new maternity clothes.  Guess what she found at the bottom of her boy’s clothes bin? There were a whole bunch of lovely maternity clothes.  She let me try on and take whatever I wanted.  Yesterday, I was trying to get school done and get to Walmart for groceries before inviting some neighborhood kids over to play.  The girls were enthusiastic; but I had a lot of contractions yesterday (so I felt a little worn out).  Just as I finished my grocery list and was ready to round up the troupes, a neighbor called and beat us to the punch.  I thought they were just inviting my two oldest, but instead they asked if all four could come over.  I got to go to Walmart all by myself plus do some other necessary things around the house.  On my way to the grocery store, I began to cry over all the sweet things that God had orchestrated for me.  It was good medicine for my tired soul.  Although God knows all my selfish thoughts and imperfections, I feel no condemnation.  All I can hear God whispering over me is “Beloved.”