...but she out of her poverty...

Some days are really difficult.  Whether you are a parent or not, everyone has difficult days.  It can be brought on by nothing more than a difficult night of sleep, sleeping past your alarm, not eating breakfast, or traffic slowing you down.  Everyone has difficulties in life. 

Sometimes though, there are people that have more difficulties than others.  Whether mental illness like depression, bipolar, or schizophrenia, or a physical illness like chronic back pain, fibromyalgia, cancer treatments or foot pain (psh. lets just say any pain.. because anytime there is pain, there is just difficulty!)  - so  Let's just say that - when people are in pain, life is extra hard! 

What about those suffering from an emotional heartache?  Infertility, miscarriage, death of a loved one, a struggling marriage, concern for your children -

In Luke chapter 21 vs 1-4 we read the story of the widow's offering -

As Jesus looked up, he saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. ² He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. ³ “Truly I tell you,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. ⁴ All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.”

I read this and thought about how I could give out of my poverty.  I cannot claim to have ever experienced true financial poverty.  Even as a child when my parents were at their poorest, we still had food and shelter, warmth, and clothing - by this worlds standards, I have never experienced financial poverty.  I wondered what it would be like to give out of my poverty. 

And then as the morning progressed it came to be known that one of my kids was having a really hard day. I was doing my best to speak life into this little one - but she really didn't want to hear it.  I told her that even in hard times we can make the choice to have a good day or a bad day.  This day was her choice, regardless of whether or not it went the way she had hoped it would.

And that is when it struck me - what about giving out of our emotional poverty?  When life is really difficult and we show grace to someone who needs it.  Or when we choose to be joyful despite difficult life circumstances.  When we bring peace even though we feel that our world is in turmoil...  Might this be a little like this widow giving out of her poverty. 

When life is going easy, when the money is there, when we got all the sleep we needed, when we woke up on time and our hair was perfect, on the days that we absolutely LOVE LIFE - it is so easy to spread joy and love, and grace - and on those days it is so easy to be full of patience for those around us and to respond softly to harsh words. 

But on the days that our hormones are OUT OF CONTROL, on the days we want to eat our feelings and punch other people in the face (c'mon I can't be the only one right?), on the days we just don't feel like we can summon the energy to play with our kids, or make a decent meal, or focus on our work, - but yet we give our very best in that day... our best might be yelling less than you wanted to and making boxed mac and cheese - but might our best on our worst days be worth more than our best on our best days? 

Just some thoughts tonight. 

I would love to hear what your thoughts on this might be!  Have you ever felt like you had nothing to give, and so you gave the very best you could even when it felt pitiful?

Comment on this blog, or comment on Facebook - I would love to connect with you!

Adoption Journey: Our trip to China Part 1

We have been home from China for 3 days now and yesterday marked two weeks as a family of five.  There is so much I could write and say, there is so much beautiful and so much perfection and yet his little life is so fragile. 

I've always known from living in the world of infertility and pregnancy loss that suggesting an infertile "just adopt" was about the most taboo thing you could say.  And I respected it, I honored it, even if at the time I didn't quite understand it. 

This past year has been an incredible journey for us full of ups and downs, twists and turns.  There have been moments of anxiety and fear, and moments of joy and hope and purpose.  We read books and watched what felt like endless hours of videos all in preparation of the great unknown of bringing a wounded child into our family.  We prepared ourselves because we knew his heart had been hurt but to what degree we may never know.  The hurts that have filled his tiny life he might not even understand, and if he does he might not ever know how to express.

On the other side of the coin, we entered into this process with excitement and anticipation, but also with trepidation knowing that the journey God was calling us into would be wonderful but difficult.  There would be tears of joy, but many tears of sadness as we try desperately to navigate our little one through a world that to this point has caused him much pain.

Even up to our leaving for China it felt completely surreal.  I would sit and wonder if this was really happening.  As we packed bags, bought gifts, confirmed our flights, prepared and prepared and prepared - I wondered the whole time, were we really about to become parents again?

The night before we were set to leave, at 8 pm - when we were scheduled to fly out at 5:45 the following morning, my phone lit up with a text from our airline that our flight had been cancelled.  They had immediately put us on a different flight to Chicago, effectively missing our flight to Beijing by 1 hour.  We spent the next hour frantically coming up with a plan B, and at 7am the next morning we packed up our minivan and drove to Chicago to catch our flight to Beijing... because living in a small community means cancelling flights just because.

The first 10 months of our journey were easy - difficult because of lots of paperwork, but everything always fit right into place.  The last 5 months were frustrating when there was delay after delay in our travel to meet our son.  Even up to the very last night.

Our flight to China was incredibly easy.  Am had a child's meal which meant her food was infinitely better than the rest of ours and she raved about how nice the flight staff was.  And they really were, so she was right on there.  All the way to China it felt like a dream... felt like I was sitting in a car for 13 hours to go on a dream vacation.  Being in Beijing felt like visiting a big city and us and several other families kept commenting, even as we stood on the Great Wall of China that it didn't feel like we were in China.  It felt like we were on a really awesome vacation. 

I think that going to Beijing for the first 3 days of our adoption trip was one of the best decisions we could have made.  They keep you so ridiculously busy that there is no way you have a chance to stop and realize just how jetlagged you are.  You just run on adrenaline as you are shown the great history and culture of your child's birth country.  The people of China are so nice and the beauty of the country really overwhelmed me.  It saddened me to see a people and culture so beautiful, a family structure deep and strong, but yet know how unfree they are.  In the few people we talked to who spoke English that was there comment.  They liked the freedoms of America but they loved their country.  And to be honest, in a way, we fell in love with their country as well.

Throughout our time in Beijing I constantly wondered if we were really on this trip to bring home our son or if this was all just a ruse.  What if there had been a mistake and we really didn't have a child waiting for us?  What if they brought us the wrong one?  What if all of this was not the end of this journey and we went home empty handed? 

Flying to our son's city was quite possibly the best feeling ever.  Taking pictures of our first glimpse of Nanjing and knowing that within 24 hours he would be in our arms forever - that was amazing. 

The story could continue on forever, and I will finish this another day - but here we are at the climax of our story.  The next steps start our newest journey, marking our first few days with our beautiful baby.

Having been home 3 days now and feeling the effects of jetlag worse than ever, my heart is stuck in melancholy.  It is frustrating to say the least to be navigating these new challenges with exhaustion as my constant companion.  All I want is to spend every waking moment fostering attachment with my new son, but I have to be patient and wait.  I have to understand that his hesitation towards me, isn't me at all -  it is a history of hurts that I will never fully understand. 

I know now that suggesting that a childless family adopt is not appropriate because adoption is a calling, but I also now understand that adoption has always been a part of my calling.  We will press on, treasure on, live on, seek on - desperate to secure in our little one a foundation of love, truth, and hope so that his future might be bright and his heart full. 

An Important Job

I joined instagram less than 24 hrs ago, pretty much for the sole purpose of keeping up with a dear friend who left Facebook probably over a year ago.  She left for a lot of reasons, reasons I definitely agreed with, and I got an instagram because I am tired of not keeping up with her life!

I really thought that Instagram was just pictures, but apparently she uses it for so much more.  She has a lot of followers, and she uses her instagram (whether she knows it or not) to speak life and encouragement into others.

This morning I opened my instagram and when I was at a *most frustrating* part of my day I felt encouraged in my role as a mother.  I was reminded of the importance of my position and while laying on the living room floor, bemoaning the effort it was taking to get anything done today.

Sometimes it feels like we work so hard at this mothering gig and our kids don't always get it.  Last week I stood on a beach in Florida with my husbands strong arms wrapped around me as he spoke life back into my tired home-school mother's soul.  I was feeling like a deflated failure coming down from the busy holiday season, where school often fell to the bottom of the list, wondering if all of this - if home schooling was really what we were supposed to be doing.  And then my husband swooped in like a night in shining armor to encourage me, and remind me that all of this - yes, this is the right thing we're doing - and our child is recieving an excellent education.

I can't imagine that I am alone in this.  I can't imagine that I am the only home schooler out there who thinks at times that she is failing her child.  I can't imagine that I am the only mother who wonders if I am really doing this correctly.  I know we all do, and so today as I laid there wondering how we will ever get back on a decent schedule, and how will my house ever look as clean or as organized as it once did - I was reminded that this job I'm doing, day in and day out, early evening, late night, middle of the night, way too early morning -

It is an important job and I am doing a good job.

Remembering

July is when Aaron and I remember four anniversaries of miscarriages from the past 8 years.  Half of our miscarriages have occurred in July, it has no longer become dates for us, but throughout the whole month it rests in the back of our minds.  Our first miscarriage occurred on July 20, 2006.

I know I've written often about our miscarriages and our anniversaries.  We are now 8 months from our last miscarriage, so for us it feels strange.  8 months doesn't seem like long, but when you are back to back miscarriage to pregnancy - infertility to miscarriage - pregnancy to miscarriage - adoption to pregnancy - miscarriage to adoption, you feel like you're on a roller coaster.

Right now we are in the early stages of our adoption.  It feels a lot like being at the end of your first trimester, you are finally ready to accept this pregnancy and believe this baby is really going to come home.  You still have a long way to go, your ultrasound is still months away, but you are excited.  Meeting your baby someday seems real.

So to be remembering these anniversaries while being in a strange state of "pregnancy" leaves me feeling surreal about them all.  Like I can look back and say, "Wow, God - look what you did and look where you are taking us!"

I love this song by Matt Redman:

Never Once

Standing on this mountaintop
Looking just how far we’ve come
Knowing that for every step
You were with us

Kneeling on this battle ground
Seeing just how much You’ve done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us

Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say

Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Carried by Your constant grace
Held within Your perfect peace
Never once, no, we never walk alone

Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Every step we are breathing in Your grace
Evermore we’ll be breathing out Your praise
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful

You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful

The words echo exactly what my heart feels, like we are standing on a mountaintop, looking back on all that we went through or that we're kneeling on the battleground, remembering the war that was fought and all that our hearts experienced.  I feel like we can look at our hearts and see our own scars and our muscles bear the strength of the struggle. But through it all - and I've always said this - never once did we not feel God's love, his faithfulness, his strength carrying us through it all.

I remember pregnant with Zemirah, just weeks after our 6th miscarriage, reading and owning 

2 Timothy 2:13 "If we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot disown himself."  

I felt so faithless, I had no confidence that that pregnancy would bring me a baby in my arms.  I knew God was good, I knew he was faithful and I knew that when I went through another miscarriage I would survive.  I am thankful that God had different plans for the little life growing inside of me.  

This July we remember the lives of our little ones in heaven.  Amariss speaks often and openly about her brothers and sisters in heaven.  Their lives hold value to her and to us.  They are a part of our family and someday we will meet them, hold them, and pour on them all the love we have missed.  

I am so thankful that this July we celebrate all of our children;

Baby K, Tiny, Itty Bitty, Amariss, Cinco, Woven, Bunnin, Zemirah, Isaiah, Little One, and our soon to be Baby Boy.  

Amariss found and loved on a baby blue jay yesterday.

Zemirah danced and praised Jesus with me this morning.

10 years of marriage.

Earlier this year I was gifted a book by a very dear friend of mine.  The book is Delight-full, 31 Days to a Happier Baby...And Wholehearted Motherhood.  It is a lovely book written by a really busy and joyful mom.  She has eight children and writes about simple and practical ways to add joy and delight to your parenting journey.

One particular chapter she tells a story about her wedding dress.  As I read it though, I could clearly in detail imagine exactly what happened because just two years ago I experienced the exact same thing.  spoiler alert: This might give away this particular chapter, but it is still worth the read.

She tells the story of her daughter discovering and opening her wedding dress that had been so carefully and meticulously wrapped and sealed.  And then her daughter opening her wedding dress, taking it out, and putting it on and joyfully exclaiming about how beautiful she was.  This is exact situation happened to us when Am was about 4 years old.  For years I had gotten the box out and we had looked at the dress through the window, and then we would put the box away again.  And one day I heard a happy exclamation of pure delight when my little girl said "Mommy!  Come Look!!"  I ran upstairs, curious as to what had her so happy and I - flipped my lid.

My face fell, my expressions did not mimic my daughters.  As joy emanated from her depths anger was boiling up from mine.  "Amariss! What are you doing???!?!?"  I exclaimed.  And the rest is history.  I gave her a punishment totally unfitting of the crime of wearing my wedding dress.  I was angry for way too long.

The precious box my dress had been stored in was demolished, and my wedding dress had no special home until my daughters were grown.

But when I read this strikingly similar story in Kate's book, I found a new perspective.  I've long since gotten over the wearing of my wedding dress, but my dress is still special to me and I want it to be special to my girls.  Kate tells us in her book of what she decided to do when her daughter opened up her wedding dress.  I wish my reaction had been similar.

Kate and her husband decided to make wearing Mommy's wedding dress a special occasion.  Every year, on their anniversary, they get out Kate's dress and the girls get to put it on and play in it.

I realized that my girls will probably out grow me by the time they are 12 (bless their sweet Daddy), so keeping my wedding dress for them until they are adults is an unrealistic idea.  I remember fitting my mom's wedding dress when I was 15 and modeling it for a mother-daughter night at church.  It was so incredibly fun.

So we have decided to pick up the Collins' tradition of wearing Mommy's wedding dress on our anniversary.

Today, my husband and I are celebrating 10 years of marriage.  I am so thankful for the man I married.  I think back through all we have been through in the last 10 years, and I cannot believe the ways we have changed.  I am so thankful that we have grown together through all of it and not apart.  I am so thankful that at the end of everyday when we curl up together, exhausted, that we feel each others love.  I am so thankful that when I woke up from anesthesia from my surgery a few weeks ago I couldn't stop crying because "I just love Aaron so much!" (yep.  that's what I woke up saying)  I am so thankful that Aaron has taken the role of priest of our home very seriously, and that he seeks God in every decision he makes.  I am so thankful that he challenges me and encourages me.  He is an incredibly outgoing man, and his love for people is something I need to learn.  He is confident and gracious.  I am so thankful that I married him.

This morning I had the girls try on my wedding dress.  They were so beautiful and they had so much fun!

If you think the "soft" around her is a special added effect, you can think again.
This is what happens when you have a toddler.  Need to clean the camera lens again!
Z - 2 yrs old

She thought this was an amazing experience. She posed perfectly.
Am - 6 yrs old

10 years with the love of my life.  So very thankful that God has blessed us with these two beautiful babes, I can't wait to see what the rest of our lives will look like.

Step-by-step...

I knew I would blog this week, there is so much to say, but I haven't known how to say it.

Really, there hasn't been a whole lot to report.  I made a surprise trip to Arkansas two weekends ago to surprise my mom for her birthday!  (and if I was really great at taking pictures I'd have some for you, but wrangling two kids by myself for a 12 hr drive was enough).

On our way to Arkansas we got the news that our application had been accepted by the agency and we were ready to move on with the next step!  That step was signing a lot of paperwork...

Officially, the paperwork has been signed and mailed, and according to the United States Postal Service should arrive at our agency's head office on Thursday.  Woohoo!

I really feel God's hand in all of this.  Down to every last tiny, seemingly unimportant detail like our paperwork arriving on Thursday, November 21.

A little over 6 months ago we miscarried a little boy, Isaiah.  Many of you have seen our posts and have shown us so much support.  Amazingly, our hearts have healed so well from this loss, which I know is nothing short of God's divine goodness.  We were blessed to have a memorial service for him, and because of this, his loss helped bring closure to us from 7 years of miscarriages.

We had begun looking into adoption in January of this year, long before we knew we were expecting.  With our pregnancy we put adoption off to the side for awhile.  When we lost Isaiah, and were ready to pursue adoption again, I knew I would not be fully ready until we had passed and mourned his due date.  This Wednesday, November 20, is Isaiah's due date.

He sees us, he hears us.  He knows exactly who we are, and where we are in our journey.  God does not take a single thing for granted.  

Sunday, one of our pastor's reminded us that "Our God takes impossibilities and makes them possibilities."  That is so true.  From step one he has taken what seems impossible to us and opened a door and made it a possibility.  He has closed doors that we may have wanted to step through, knowing it wasn't the right plan for us.  We are completely trusting Him as we take one more step toward our possibility.

Today we also remember our 2nd miscarriage.  Our little baby, Tiny, was miscarried on November 18, 2006.  Sometimes I wonder when I will stop remembering these anniversaries, but my heart feels that as long as we live, we won't.  These little ones, a part of our lives for an incredibly too short amount of time, are a part of us.  We lost Tiny while at a FamilyLife Marriage Conference, we were a little over 6 weeks along.

So, this week is strangely bittersweet.  We mourn a lot of loss but look forward with tempered anticipation for all that is to come.

Choosing Joy

This morning started out rough.  Actually, no - it didn't.  It started out great!  Tiny slept all night long, which is pretty rare, so I woke up well rested and ready for the day.

But then I lost track of time, and made an unfortunate discovery.  I had made a mistake a few months ago, that I didn't find out about until this morning and it ended up costing us money.  I really hate it when I make mistakes, especially financial ones.  So to say I was in a sour mood would be true.

We were on our way to Noodle's ballet class this morning and all I could think was "What else could happen today?  This day is just going to stink!"

Then I gently reminded myself to choose joy.  It wasn't an easy choice.  I kept reminding myself of all my failures and ways that I was pretty sure I wouldn't measure up today. But I prayed, I hashed it out with Jesus a bit - not wanting to choose joy, more or less forcing myself into it.

 To be honest, I didn't measure up today, I rarely do.

But I decided that at the end of this day, I would choose joy.  I wouldn't sit around and think about how terrible I did at being a great mom, or how my house doesn't look any better than it did when we started the day (and actually it probably looks worse), or that school wasn't as organized as I thought, or that we ended up eating leftovers instead of making a real dinner.

Truth is, today wasn't a stellar day for me and tomorrow probably won't be either.

But I've got joy.  I see love in my children's faces and I delight in their laughter and voices.  I kept calm when my patience was tested today, I let my daughter throw herself on the piles of laundry on the couch, and tried not to think about what I should really be doing with that laundry...

We did school; with jewels that my daughter wanted to use for a craft.  We'll eat dinner; not what was planned and we will enjoy this evening and enjoy each other.

Some days do not go like you plan them to, but that is okay.  At the end of the day I chose joy.  I messed up.  I made mistakes.

But there is a new day coming and today I'm not going to beat myself up over my shortcomings.

Any of you have days when you have to choose to be joyful?

Mother's Day

It's Mother's Day and in many ways I feel Isaiah's loss more poignantly today then most other days.

Although, I've noticed that as the shock of this loss has worn off, my heart is aching more deeply.

I have so many emotions and am doing such a poor job expressing them.  Maybe tomorrow I'll be more able.

For all the women out there with aching empty arms this Mother's Day, my heart is aching for you too.  Praying you feel God's grace and presence wrapped more tightly around you today.

Not what I thought it would be....

PAIL Post

When I first started out on this parenting journey, just like many newbies, I had a lot of grand ideas of how awesome I was going to be (cue laughter)... 

I quickly, and I mean quickly, learned just how little I know about parenting, and even - dare I say - judgemental I had been towards other parents (ouch!). 

I thought Attachment Parenters (AP) were crazy, and I had several friends who used Babywise and I totally disagreed with a lot of it.  So, I didn't know which school of thought to follow. 

What I found out though, was that God equips us exactly as we need to be equiped.  Oh, I make mistakes, a lot of them, daily - but my daughter knows the truth about Jesus, she is full of love, and quick to share, and that strong-will she was blessed with? - its still there, and being shaped for God's purposes. 

Some of the things that make me the craziest about my daughter and parenting, are not wrong at all - they're just different than me.  Where I am introverted, my daughter knows no stranger... (seriously, we have the stranger talk all the time).  Where I am quiet, my daughter is boisterous.  Where I want to fit in, my daughter just wants to be herself.  *If you know my husband, you know where my daughter has inherited all of these, oh so wonderful traits.*

Sometimes, its not a matter of changing those traits in her, its a matter of changing those traits in me.  We've taught her to love, and love she does! 

And parenting?  It is HARD WORK.  This kid is no angel, just like the rest of them.  She tests the boundaries and makes me wonder if I really knew what I was getting into.  No, I didn't. 

I didn't know what it would feel like to get up in the middle of the night, 3 times - because she's thirsty, hungry, or has to pee.  (When they're 4 and you're pregnant, you have a lot less patience for these shenanigans.) 

I didn't know what it would be like to still have to give a consequence to the most adorable little face I've ever seen, that's crying becuase I looked at her sternly. 

I didn't know how much I would love this kid. 

And that love only grows every. single. day.

So parenting philosophy?

I lean more towards Attachment Parenting and I still disagree with Babywise.

But just like anything, I don't follow that perfectly either :)


*On that strong-willed child though - If you have one, I can tell you right now.  One of the BEST books out there is You Can't Make Me, But I Can Be Pursuaded by Cynthia Tobias. 

Go buy it.  now.  for real.  It will change your life and the way you parent.  It made a world of difference in our home and our daughter was just turning 4 when I read it.  I wish I'd read it when she was 2 though! 

  

6wks 3dys

Yes, you see that right folks.  No time has not regressed but today I had an.....

ULTRASOUND!!!!

It was fabulous, every short breath taking second of seeing that beautiful baby.  I'm a little jealous of my husband's view.  He got to see the baby the whole time, I had to contort my head in some strange fashion to catch a glimpse.

But I saw it!  I saw that glorious, gorgeous, breathtaking, heart-stopping, tear-jerking, make-your-throat-swell-up,

Heartbeat.

137 beats per minute. 

It was amazing. 

Baby is measuring a week behind what I had originally predicted, which is normal, fine, and probably speaks to my short luteal phase and frequent miscarriages. 

It took everything within me to not tell everyone at church tonight that I'M PREGNANT AND THERE'S A HEARTBEAT!!!

  But, I just smiled. 

I am happy tonight, very very happy. 

And looking forward to 12 weeks pregnant.  That will be wonderful.

 I am beyond blessed.

7 weeks pregnant

I can't believe I'm here.  Still pregnant at 7 weeks.  Although this is not the furthest a pregnancy has gone and then miscarried for me - it is still much further than all but 1. 

Which gives me hope, lots and lots of hope.

I still have this fear in my head though, what if?

What if this one doesn't make it? 

What if the ultrasound doesn't show a heartbeat? 

What if I start to miscarry at youth encounter next weekend or my friend's wedding the following? (and none of these people even know I'm pregnant)

What if there is something wrong with this baby?

What if I get my heart broken again?

But you see - what is hope if it is in things I am certain of?  Well, that is not hope at all - that's knowledge. 

Trusting God these past few weeks has been especially hard, and to be brutally honest - I've ignored him more than anything. 

Infact, I've forgotten that I'm pregnant most days, other than those few moments when I have to take my Welcome Womb (nasty, nasty stuff) or progesterone, or vitamins - or when a good friend calls just to see how I'm holding up. 

I hate that I've disconnected myself but connecting myself right now - although I love this child with all that I am - is not what I can handle. 

I have too much to do, too much to handle to consider the weight of losing a baby right now.  And no time to grieve, so I choose to ignore. 

And if this child finds his or her way to heaven before I have a chance to meet them face to face, I will grieve - if the time comes.

 (maybe a little too much Cinderella for me, but every time I see "if" italicized I think of Lady Tremaine saying  "If you can get your work done and If you can find something suitable to wear" and then explaining to her daughters... "of course I said "If")

As my mother so often said "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."  Hopefully this road does not take me to that bridge, but right now - I still don't know.

I read this verse on a friend's blog last night - and found that as fitting as it was for her, it fits here as well. 

“For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.”

Romans 8:22-25

100 Days of Beholding - Day 1

I was invited by a friend on facebook to be a part of "100 Days of Beholding"  Check out her document and join in on the revelation. 

I want to share with all of you a few of my beholdings as I go through this journey.  Today is Day 1 for me, and although I won't subject you to every entry of mine - I want you to see some of my highlights. 

#1) I'm thankful for time of stress.  they increase my faith and teahch me to trust [God] even when I don't want to.  Trusting involves letting go - and letting go means I could get hurt.  But I've leavned that you are good and even when my heart is broken you love me most.  So in this time of stress, when my only choice is to trust you - I let go and know that you are always good.
I am one who chooses to avoid stress at all cost.  Whether it is avoiding confrontation, avoiding traffic, avoiding grocery stores...you get the idea.  I avoid stress because I fear I don't handle it well.  Sometimes, stress, is unavoidable and its learning to handle it, and handle it well that teaches the most about who God is.

#6 I'm thankful for [our daughter]; a fun loving child, full of joy, who mimicks our acts of love and has taught us that gentle parenting, although heard work - is worth the effort.  A child who is by no means perfect but speaks trust in simple words; when I'm sick "Jesus will heal you, Mommy."  A risk taker from the beginning - bold and strong willed - she will shake this woorld for Jesus as she grows and matures in him.  She is all real - nothing fake in her and when she commits her life to Christ she will be unmoveable.
I often times speak of my child as a handful, difficult, exhausting; terms that in no way build up her charachter.  But she is so much more than that - she is all that we prayed for in a daughter.  Strong willed, unshakeable, loves deeply.  I compare her to other children, raised similarly, and wonder 'hHve I done something wrong?' but I know...  I know.... She doesn't commit until she's sold out - and when this one sells out for Christ - the world will never be the same.

I look forward to what the rest of the 99 days brings.  I know that this is an exercise in believing, beholding, and becoming.  I don't want to become complacent in my place of life. 
 

hoping

Heading for a blood test this afternoon and hoping for good news. 

Mean Girls

I was listening to the radio while driving my car home the other night and I had a disturbing realization.

The program I was listening to was Homeword When Mean Girls Become Angry Moms with guest Author Hayley DiMarco. 

I think I might be mean.  I talked to my mom about it and (of course) her answer was that I am not mean - thanks Mom. 

But really, am I?  Hayley DiMarco says that every girl, let me say that again - EVERY girl, has been a mean girl at some point in her life.  What if I still am?

Sometimes I'm rude, judgemental, irritable, defensive, gossiping, annoyed....and on and on and on...

Do you ever feel that way?  Like maybe you're not as nice as you think you are?

For a long time in my life, because I was pretty introverted, I was considered to be snobby, stuck up, maybe a little full of myself (as most introverted girls are considered to be). 

What if I've really become that way?  I'm not longer as introverted as I used to be - but have I taken on the snobby, stuck up, full of myself attitude?  I sure hope not. 

And this year I'm taking steps to make sure if I have, I stop.

Last Thursday began our first MOPS of 2011-2012 (yea!) and I'm setting out to be nice.

No more thinking someone doesn't like me becuase they looked at me wierd.  No, no, no.   I'm going to think the best of people and treat people the way they deserve to be treated. 

So ladies, really.  Can we check our irritabilities, annoyances, and frustrations at the door and save them for the dishes, lawn mower, and other inanimate objects that won't have their feelings hurt by our particularly stressful day?

And if you're having a hard time with "Mean Girls" or Mean Women for that matter - I encourage you to listen to Part 1 & Part 2 of When Mean Girls Become Angry Moms on Homeword with Dr. Jim Burns and Hayley DiMarco and pick up a copy of her book: Mean Girls (although I think they book may be directed towards teenage girls)

Type-A Mothering.

I am not a Type-A personality.  My ducks are most certainly usually not in rows, although I very much so wish them to be.....

Okay, nevermind.  I looked up the "characteristics of a Type-A personality"  and well... 

I am a Type-A personality. 

So maybe my ducks are in a row, I just want them in a straighter row. 

Well, where I was going with this is. 

Being a Mom is hard work.

I am usually wondering if I'm doing a good job and raising our child.  She's beautiful, talented, funny, sweet, and a direct reflection of myself.

Today I noticed something about my daughter that is painfully close to my own behavior. 

She refuses (and I mean out right refuses) to do anything she thinks she isn't good at.  (My husband mentioned to me - after I claimed I'm not competitive - that I'm actually very competitive, so much so, that I won't play something unless I'm certain I have a good chance at winning.)

For instance:  We recently started homeschooling her (she's 3 - ding ding ding, Type A mother).  I'm using 3pre-k curriculum, so don't worry it is age appropriate, and I'm supplementing it with Handwriting Without Tears curriculum for writing.  I read through part of the parent's manual that accompanied it, but then we started school so I just started in and haven't finished it yet.

However, one week in I'm realizing that this curriculum is intended for 4 yr old pre-k.  Our little one is probably not really ready for this yet, even though she can in fact do it, she is too intimidated by it.

So, I'm giving up the workbooks and worksheets for awhile. 

Part of my brain tells me that if I don't make her do it she'll never have to do things she doesn't want to. 

The other part tells me that I'm going to make her hate school before she even had a chance to love it. 

So, for now, I somehow have to lay down my Type-A and let things be a little less perfect. 

I'm still a good mom and she's most certainly a great kid. 

First Day Of Preschool

Ever since Am was born my husband and I have gone back and forth on what to do about her education. 

We knew that we wanted her to either be homeschooled or attend a private christian school throughout gradeschool age, but we had a hard time deciding which was best.  My husband always gave the opinion that we would only homeschool if we had more than one child, because he wanted her to be socialized. 

But here we are, our daughter is 3, and with out any other children around we had to make a decision.  There is an excellent christian preschool in town but we decided that since Am is only 3, this year for sure we will homeschool and we'll take next year however it comes.  Am is already a pretty social butterfly.

So today was the day!  We started preschool and it went really well!

Here are some pictures:

Her first day of school picture!  She was very excited to get started and was holding her case with her books to read that day and worksheets inside!

Here she is working on her How Many Dancers? game from 1+1+1=1 an excellent resource for homeschooling parents! 

coloring 1 red gingerbread, 1 green gingerbread, and 1 blue gingerbread from the Everything for Early Learning book.

took a break in the middle to burn off some energy riding her bike!

We drew a ladder with sidewalk chalk and played balancing games with it.  Then she rode her bike up the ladder. 

All in all it was a fun morning for us and we will have our next homeschooling morning on Wednesday.

Where The Rubber Meets The Road

Yesterday was a hard day.  I had a lot to do in the way of cleaning my house for people coming over and preparing for homeschooling, but I spent most of my afternoon crying and eating, because eating makes me feel better (atleast for a little bit, lol). 

I just read my last post and saw that I wrote "this is where the rubber meets the road, how I do what I do".  Which is exactly, being a childbirth educator, pursuing my doula certification and fight a battle with secondary infertility and recurrent miscarriage. 

The reason I said "where the rubber meets the road" is because I taught a class while pregnant and then another the following week while miscarrying.  I've only taught during a miscarriage once before and it was my first class I ever taught, other than that I've cancelled my class. 

It was really fun for me to teach while pregnant, having never been able to do that before (because my pregnancies haven't lasted that long) I enjoyed talking about anatomy and the birth process while inside being excited about my own birth.  I never share with my classes when I'm pregnant or miscarrying, that's kind of wierd to me.  People usually feel ackward when I mention it and if you throw in there the fact that they're pregnant and I'm not...it makes things more ackward. 

I don't suffer from jealousy of my clients, just a desire to be on this journey with them.  In a way, I am another stop on their journey, but I long for the kinmanship pregnant women share with one another.  Returning to work following a miscarriage is more difficult that actually teaching the class.  Because I work at a pro-life pregnancy center, and the women there are prayer warriors like you've never encountered, I do share with them my pregnancy and ask them to pray.  Delivering the news that I've miscarried is difficult and hard to do for me.  I dread that much more than teaching my class. 

Teaching during a loss is for me, completely exhausting.  My body is already tired from the physical aspect of things, but the emotional aspect is difficult as well.  Pushing my feelings down and talking about a subject I'd rather avoid at the moment wears at me. 

I do wonder what God's plans are for me in all of this.  I know he can bring good from bad and I'm praying he pours it on!  I need to know that there is purpose in this pain. 

So, yesterday was hard becuase I watched a video.  It was a birth story and in it a little girl met her baby sister.  Her mom described her older daughter's reaction as instant love.  And I broke.  My daughter wants to be an older sister, and I know she'd make a great one.  But this is a gift of which she doesn't understand the value.  A gift that only God can give her. 

Someday, someday when she is an older sister and she understands the preciousness of her position she will be able to glorify God in it with us. 

The aftermath - July 14, 2011

For those of you who have wondered why I kept this to myself and didn't tell many people about my pregnancy, here it is.  Sometimes its nice to pretend that everything is perfect in my world, even when I know its not. 

The Aftermath :

It’s way too late.  I spent an hour (or more, I lost track of time) reading nothing on facebook, wondering how in the world other mothers have the time and abilities to accomplish all that they do. 

Exhaustion and frustration are not becoming of me. 

I keep wondering when I can post the story of the past week on my blog, but then I wonder how, so that it makes sense, and why.  My blog is about the delicate balance I walk in life; living my own personal struggle with infertility and miscarriage while working as a birth educator and now doula. 

And here it is, where the rubber meets the road.  Here is where you see it all, the dirt, the part that has always made you wonder how I do what I do. 

So, this crazy last week – I have to post it.  Even though I’m afraid of the comments.  It’s not sympathy I seek.  No, that’s not really me.  No, infact, I wish to handle this privately.  But somehow out there I thought it might be nice if people who ask me all the time “how do I handle my friend’s miscarriage?”  would have a place where they can hear the feelings of one who has been there. 

Not so that tomorrow you can give me an encouraging hug, or one of those looks that says “I’m sad for you”.  But so that someday when you’re faced with something you don’t really understand – you can let your friend know that it’s okay that they don’t know what they need from you, but yet they know that they need you.  And that’s all there is to it.

So, one of these days, I’ll post the story.  All of it – the blog posts, the journal entries, the prayers. 

But today, it’s still private.  I like it that way.

7/14/11 

Goodbye Bunnin - July 13, 2011

written shortly after recieving the phone call from the drs office

I had some cramping and spotting over the last few days. I tried to pass it off as implantation spotting but as my nausea abated and everything else returned to its not pregnant state - I went in for another blood test. It came back this afternoon that my hormone levels had dropped from 49 (on Friday) to 11 today.

So, in essence, my body will probably miscarry this baby in the next day or two once my progesterone shot from this morning wears off.

However, amidst the tears - and frustration, I choose to remember that God can still work a miracle here. He can bring these levels up. And I was encouraged last night when reading in Romans - that my faithlessness does not nullify God's faithfulness.

So, although I close this chapter on this baby's life I know that God may not have that in store at all, and all hope is not lost.

7/13/11

The Update - July 12, 2011

This was written the day before I got blood tests that showed I would be losing the baby.

While I haven’t yet been able to post these last few posts, I’m finding great therapy in writing out what is going on. 

I had a frustrating doctor’s appt. on Fri. in which I believe the exact words she used were “It’s still early so you could either way.”  I’m not sure she meant it to sound so cold but it hurt a little bit of the hope I’d been banking on. 

The weekend was busy and, baby wise, uneventful.  We visited friend and had family come into town for a few days. 

Sunday night I had a sharp “twinge” on my left side and began spotting.  It made me very nervous and left me running for the bathroom often to check if the spotting had gone away, which it did very quickly.  Monday morning I got a call from my doctor/midwife’s office that my hormone levels had doubled from Wed. to Fri (like they’re supposed to) and they wanted me to come in and start progesterone injections.  So my husband and I went in and they showed him how to give those injections at home. 

So here we are today.  I started spotting again midmorning.  I had some mild cramping this morning but nothing major or worrisome, till the spotting started.  So instead of spending my day watching 19 kids and counting with my mother-in-law, I left my daughter with her and came home to calm down my worried self and relax and make as many trips to the bathroom as I want.  

So that is where I’m at right now.