The Fears of My Mama Heart

Lord, make our daughters like Sarah and Rebecca
Like Rachel and like Leah, who built the house of Israel
Lord, make our daughters like Sarah and Rebecca
Like Rachel and like Leah, who built the house of Israel
Oh Lord, we pray

I was listening to the playlist of music I curated for when I'm in labor earlier and this song jumped out at me. (No, I'm not in labor yet. I won't be live-blogging that. I just wanted to listen to good Christian music and that fit the bill.) I first heard this song at Houghton College during a concert by John Waller himself. At the time, the song struck me because I longed to be like these great women of the Bible myself, to be a woman after G-d's own heart, to be someone others could look at and say that I took after Sarah and Rebecca. These days, this song holds a different meaning to me.

My daughter is almost done with the time she'll spend growing inside me. Any time between now and Easter, I could go into labor and she could make her entrance. As uncomfortable as I'm getting and as ready as I am to have my body back to myself, I wonder if I'm ready to step into motherhood in this way. Yes, I'm already her mother but the minute she's in my arms, our dynamic changes. Taking care of her right now is almost a passive action. I don't have to put much thought into feeding her or comforting her. I don't have to change diapers or put her to sleep. Those things just happen on their own right now. But someday soon, she'll be not only her own being but she'll have her own needs on her own schedule and I won't be able to tend them quite as easily. My little girl will make her demands known in a very different way and as the day draws nearer, I wonder if I'm prepared.

Will I be able to distinguish between the signs for "I'm hungry" and "I'm wet"? Will I be able to comfort her and rock her to sleep as easily on the outside as I can now? I already know she's a Daddy's girl. Does that mean I'm doomed to a day of fussing and crying until we get home at night and he can hold her? As her sole source of food for the next several months and main source for the next year, will I be able to handle it? Will I get touched out? Will I have enough milk? Will I recognize whether she has a good latch and be able to correct it if not? Or will I be so overwhelmed that I'll want to give up long before it's best for her?

And once she's older, will I be able to teach her what she needs to know? To set the best example for her? Will my daughter grow to be like Sarah and Rebecca, like Rachel and like Leah? Will she look up to me as a godly woman, a good example? Will she see the influence of these women in my life? Or will she see G-d as a part of my life but not the center? Will she see my flaws, my shortcomings, my ineptitude before she sees my love for the Creator? What will she think is the central part of my life? Will it be my faith? Or my family? Or myself?

My daughter already has her own personality, her own thoughts and ideas and opinions. She already has preferences for what foods she likes (spicy foods and cupcakes seem to be a favorite, chicken not so much). She's not even born yet and she's fully formed. Yes, the events of her life will shape her and mold her. I don't mean to say she's the same person now that she will be even a year from now. But the blueprint is there. As she grows, either the workmanship can be shoddy and can result in crooked walls and crumbling foundation or it can be solid and she can grow into the person G-d intends for her to be. And a good chunk of which way that goes depends on the examples set for her and the ways in which her father and I raise her.

What a huge responsibility! I think the weight of what we've signed up for is starting to sink in as it becomes more and more real that this little one is an independent person and will very soon occupy her own space in this world. I love my daughter and I would do this again in a heartbeat just to have her. I do not regret this pregnancy or the timing of it. I know that this was when she was meant to make her way into our lives and I could not be more overjoyed. That does not mean I'm not allowed to be apprehensive or overwhelmed. My daughter means everything to me and I want to do what's right by her. It's only natural that I would see the monumental size of this task and balk just a bit. To raise her to take after these great women, I feel inadequate. To show her what it means to be a godly woman, to love the L-rd with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind and with all your strength is a huge calling. There are so many, many things I want her to learn. I guess I need to start learning some of them myself and pray that she'll see my struggles to be like Hannah and Ruth and Mary, to be the mother she deserves and the woman I know G-d wants me to be, and that she'll realize her mommy may not be perfect. And I may stumble and fall time and time again. But I will always pick myself back up and I will always try again and I will always, through it all, love her and her father and I will strive to put G-d at the center of our home and our lives and my own heart.

L-rd, make me a woman after Your heart. Make me a mother like Hannah. Help me devote my life and my child to Your cause. For this child, I have prayed, G-d, and I turn her life over to You. Guide me in the best ways to raise her and love her and care for her. Give me patience as I await her arrival and as I figure out how to be her mama in a more active way. Grant me humility to ask for help when I need it and just enough sleep to get through my days. G-d, bless my daughter. Let her grow into the woman You have planned for her to be and keep her in Your ways. I ask only that You'd let me witness Your work and I thank You for the privilege of having a part in this miracle. Amen.

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My One Word for 2016

2016 is going to be one hell of a year. Don't get me wrong; 2015 was incredible, but I am so excited for 2016. 2015 was the year I first began as a wife. The year we began to figure out what that meant. We navigated budgetting and saving and meal planning and chores. We added some fur babies to our home (one at the end of 2014, the other this fall). We took a leap of faith and handed control of one particular aspect of our lives over to G-d. Then, on July 4th, we found out our family would be growing by another human. (Thankfully only one this time!) It's been insane ever since.

Ever since that moment, I've been growing into a different person, a mom, her mom. I know I'm never done growing as a person and I know my identity isn't solely who I am as a mom. I'm still a wife, a woman, a daughter, a sister. And those parts of me are nowhere near finished. But now there's this big new part being unlocked. It started the moment that second line showed up and has grown day by day. Every time I've heard her heartbeat or felt her kick, I've fallen a little more in love with her. And every moment she's gone nuts for the San Jose Sharks or kicked out of shock at the newest Star Wars movies and I've seen the pride and the joy on my husband's face, I've fallen more in love with him.

In this next year, while everyone is making their resolutions, I think my goals are fairly simple. You may disagree. In about three months, my daughter will enter the world and I want to be the mama she needs. I want to show her love, to show her what it means to be a godly woman and a loving wife. I want to show her how to adult, to budget and save and meal plan and cook. And I want to teach her to take care of herself too. To take five minutes for a shower, to drink a cup of tea and just breathe. I want to show her that eating good, healthy food doesn't mean being deprived or boring and that working out is something we do to feel our best and to be good stewards of the body G-d gave us, not because we don't like our reflection or we hate our thighs.

Do I think she's going to soak all of this in by the end of 2016?No. But I do think it will start to set a firm foundation. These values I want to impart to her aren't necessarily things I've already got mastered. So this goal isn't just "Keep living how I am but with a baby." It involves work and growth and deliberate change.

I don't expect to suddenly change who I am overnight. My diet won't suddenly be 100% organic or sugar free. We won't suddenly have our bills line up perfectly every month and I might sometimes overspend on stupid things. I won't suddenly work out 3x a week or stick to my devos every day. But these are all things I plan to work on. So for 2016, my one word is 'temple'. My body is a temple of the Holy Spirit and it is my job to care for it, inside and out.

Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from G-d? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore, honor G-d with your bodies.

-1 Corinthians 6:19-20

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There's Changes Coming to Our Little World...

Well it sure has been a while. What have I been up to you ask? Those few of you not in my real life may not know this but I've been a bit busy lately. Adjusting to married life, being a nanny, growing a baby. Yes, folks, that's right. I'm preggers. Our daughter is due in March and we couldn't be more thrilled. She's very active and likes to try to find the "corners" of my belly. When she was small enough, she wedged herself way down low and hid there. Now that she's quite a bit bigger (the size of a butternut squash this week), she tries to hide under my ribs. Which, as you can imagine, isn't very comfortable for the mama!

We've been taking Bradley Method classes for a few weeks now and after my initial reluctance, they're not horrible. Bradley is very naturally based. They're pro-breastfeeding, anti-medications, and anti-circumcision. They advocate the Brewer diet, which is heavy on the protein and vegetables. The method is also called "Husband Coached Birth" and there was my problem with it. My beliefs about birth are about following your instincts. Yes there are times medical intervention is necessary but if everything is going as it was designed, I believe that the mother should be free to move as she wishes, be in whatever position she wishes, and make whatever noises she wishes. As wonderful as my husband is, he can't know what my body is telling me to do and my initial reaction to "husband coached" was a belief that they were going to advocate HE tell ME what to do to cope with what was going on in my body. And that just wasn't going to fly.

Luckily, so far, everything we've learned has been about him supporting me, encouraging me, being by my side. Yes, some of the things they recommend he say are ridiculous and cheesy. But Wes knows me well enough to know what will and won't work. He knows the things that would irritate me and the things that would help. We've had conversations after we leave class about how we think that information will play into our little girl's birth and what we envision. During classes, we've learned things about nutrition and about pregnancy. We talked about how our support person (they call them a coach but that still bothers me a bit) can help during labor and some of the things they can say.

Every week, we have homework. There are certain exercises we're supposed to do. Kegels, squatting, tailor sitting, pelvic rocking, practicing your relaxation, butterflies. This week, I've finally started making an effort to do them. I had hoped pelvic rocking would get this baby off my sciatic nerve and make me a bit more comfortable. It doesn't really seem to have worked. However, it does seem to have made her flip. So I'm now getting kicked in the ribs and have someone's little head pressing into my bladder. This has the side effect of increasing my waddle, especially when I really have to pee! Yes, she was already on her way to being head down before I started doing this but it definitely helped speed things up and keep her there. (She kept going back and forth!)

Though I'm not sure this class is actually going to help me based on what we've learned so far on the actual day this child makes her arrival, I do think it's been helpful. While I knew a lot of this information beforehand (Hi, I'm a voracious reader and probably read three books cover to cover before I was out of the first trimester), a lot of it is new to my dear husband. And even if it's not brand new, hearing it from a different source helps reinforce it. It's also given us the openings to talk about things we want and don't want. Questions like whether I want him in the tub with me or whether I'd prefer him close but not in, what it is I find helpful to relax (because pretending I'm asleep isn't gonna do it).

Overall, this pregnancy has been pretty easy. I'm starting to reach the uncomfortable stage though and sometimes pregnancy really kicks my ass. During the first trimester, I only had a little morning sickness. I was nauseous most mornings but rarely vomitted. I was absolutely exhausted which made me super grateful for my job. Being able to nap when the kids napped was huge. I haven't had too many cravings and the ones I do have are mostly fleeting. I crave it, I get it, I'm good. I don't often crave it again. And it's a lot of the power of suggestion too. Someone mentions chocolate donuts and then I want one. I do like spicy food a lot though. Lots of Indian and Thai in my diet lately.

Now that I'm towards the end of the second trimester, things like heartburn are starting to become an issue. She's about two pounds now and I can only imagine how bad it's going to get when she gains another seven inches and another five pounds! (So far today I've taken 150 mg of zantac and 1 Tums. And all I had for breakfast was some oatmeal and water!) Like I said, I'm starting to waddle which makes me feel oh so attractive. But I love seeing my little girl grow and Wes tells me all the time how beautiful I am. Even if my belly is starting to stretch beyond the limits I thought possible. Every time we go to see the midwife (Rachel), the baby tries to hide from the doppler so they can't get a good read on her heartbeat. I don't think a student has gotten it yet. She's too active!

Well, I think that's about it for now. Before my blogspot app tries to delete this again, I'm gonna go ahead and publish it. My goal is to pop in at least once a week to update you all about whatever's going through my head and to work on my writing skills some more. (My dear sweet husband is on me about that book I'm supposed to be writing and at least this gets me in that sort of headspace!) Lastly, those of you who know me in person may have noticed I didn't mention my daughter's name. I've decided, at least for the time being, to keep that private. I use it on my private social media accounts but I'm not comfortable with the idea of having it out there for the entire world to see at this time. I ask that you please respect my decision in the comments or I'll have to delete them and I'd really rather not!

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RIP Grandma

My grandmother died.

It's been a little over a week and honestly I didn't think it would affect me like this. In fact, I had a whole different blog post written that I meant to schedule for posting while I was gone. Then I forgot. So today I went to add the finishing touches and realized, while it's still true and still going to be posted later, I have something else I want to say today.

I went to my mom's for the funeral. I told myself I went because it was expected of me, because what sort of granddaughter misses her grandmother's funeral service, because my mom needed me. I told myself I didn't need everyone offering condolences and saying they were sorry for my loss. That we weren't close so it wasn't that upsetting. And then I woke up Wednesday morning. We had a ton of things to do before we were ready to go to the service and the minute I got out of bed, I started working on them.

The photo collage to be displayed needed to be done. The house needed to be picked up because people were coming by after. I needed to get dressed and do my hair, my makeup. I started working and then, still in my pajamas, two of Mom's friends showed up for a ride. We knew they were coming but they were early and everyone else was already upstairs getting ready. So I played hostess and I got coffee and creamer and then excused myself to get dressed.

From that moment, I didn't stop moving for nearly 48 hours. Oh I sat at the funeral but I didn't rest. I perched on the edge of my chair. And I drove home of course (four and a half hours worth of driving). But who can say that driving that long, in the twilight and then the night, is relaxing? I brought the kids back with me yesterday so I could clean. And I did the dishes. And the laundry. And I showered. And I unpacked. And I made dinner. And I don't think I've been relaxed for one moment since I woke up Wednesday morning.

If I stop moving, stop doing things, stop and just relax, I'm afraid I'll think. And if I think, I'll process. And if I process, my grandmother really will be in that box, all turned to ash, and I might just cry. And I can't cry because I hate crying. Especially in front of other people. It was bad enough having to carefully weigh, when speaking at her funeral, whether it was better to look like a stone faced bitch and not shed a tear in front of all these people or whether it was better to show my weakness and know that they all understood the fact that I lost my grandma. (In the end, it didn't matter what I thought. I cried anyhow.)

This is a reaction I never thought I'd have. I never thought grief might make me unable to relax, oscillating between curled up on the couch mostly zoned out and unable to sit because there's shit that suddenly became very important to get done. And considering the fact that I know I'll see her again someday and the fact that she was in truly awful health, I'm sort of surprised it has me this upset. Several times in the last five years, I thought she was going to die in surgery. And then, on a random Wednesday night, in her sleep, she stopped breathing. It was unexpected and shocking. And there's a whole lot more details that are infuriating. She's gone. And it's hard to imagine and it's hard to wrap my head around.

My grandma died. And I'm here processing that fact. Grandma, you've got your health back. And your parents. And your best friend. And your son. And I know you're happy and I'll see you again. Until then, just try not to ask G-d any questions about how He came up with catfish, okay?

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My Wrestling with G-d (or Lack Thereof)

I've realized lately that I don't struggle with G-d much anymore. I've struggled with some big issues in the past decade and it seems like suddenly they've disappeared. I struggled with self-harm. I struggled with my depression instead of just letting it come over me. I struggled with the decision to start dating my ex, a non-Christian bordering on atheism. I struggled deciding where to go to college. I struggled with the decision to have sex, and then to stop. I struggled with the decision to let go of the future I had planned for myself. First to change my major and then to end my engagement. I struggled with sexual immorality. I struggled with trying to understand if I was pure or not. I struggled deciding what to do after my au pair year. I struggled with the decision to start dating the man I now call my husband. I struggled even deciding to move to Ohio.

Where has all that struggle gone? All that passion? All that fight? On the one hand, you could say that the lack of struggling means my life is going great and nothing needs to be struggled with. That I should enjoy this time of ease and stop trying to argue about everything. But I don't think this is really meant to be a time of ease.

My life feels like it's just going with the flow and accepting things. We, as Christians, are called to so much more! We're called to represent our Saviour on this earth and we are called to be His hands and feet. We're called to be Christ-like. And I am not. I am selfish and greedy and lazy. I am sinful. I know all this but I accept it most days. I don't turn to G-d and confess because most days I'm not even aware of my sins. I know I've sinned because I'm human but I don't pay attention to my individual failings. I just move on with my life. I mean, let's be honest, we're only human right?

But here's the thing. We're supposed to take up our cross daily. Some days I'm not even sure where I put mine. That is not living the way I'm made to. My life was made for more. There are things I know I ought to be wrestling with in my soul and yet, I can't seem to dig deeper into my faith. I seem to be stuck. Is it my age? Is it my stage of life? Is this just a season where I'm plateaued? Or am I just going through the motions?

I want more. I don't want this humdrum day to day. I know I said in a previous post that I'm accepting the fact that I'm normal but maybe I just need to focus on being abnormal in a different way. I want more than status quo. I want a life that is clearly touched by G-d. I don't want this life to be about routine and expectations. I want to live the way I am meant to. And yes, that means going to church every week. But it also means letting G-d use the other six days a week too. My faith is not to be confined to an hour every Sunday or even to a half hour devotional each day. My faith is meant to be a part of me and I want to start showing it.

Since I began writing this post nearly two weeks ago now, I've created a prayer journal and began using it yesterday. I have sections for praise, for confession, for praying for my husband, for our future children, for myself. I have a section for praying for others and several for taking notes. On sermons, on the Bible, on books I'm reading or quotes I discover or even lyrics from songs. I'm praying right now that G-d would make me into the woman I ought to be. The wife I should be and the mother my children need. But that's a subject for another post.

Have you ever gone through an experience like this? Have you ever felt like you were on a plateau with Christ?

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