The [Corona] Crucible

Once upon a time I was in high school and my high school English teacher had us read the story (play?), The Crucible. For those of you who may no be familiar with the text, let me give you the abridged version. A puritan society is convinced that there is witchcraft going on and the only way to prove that you're not a witch is if you say that you are one (yes, yes you read that right) and in turn confess your witch doings to God. Therefore, the leaders of said society go around to those who are, accused of being "witches" (which many are not} and make them confess or they are hanged. (Enter the phrase, "witch hunt"). 

So where am I going with this?

Don't worry, I'll get there.

Fast forward to now. If you were to open any social media account, or simply are an aware human being, I'm sure that the subjects burning with the most vigor would include something about the coronavirus. And rightly so, being that we're all in quarantine and it's about 90% of what we have our focus on. Now don't get me wrong, I am more than aware that the proper precautions need to be taken in order to deactivate this highly active germ. However, it's the current, precautionary actions that ring an all too familiar bell.

Like that of The Crucible, an understandable fear has run rampant in our current society. The puritans were terrified of the witches and the last thing any of us want is to be another corona victim. A distance has been formed between people, and I'm not just taking physically. I have no problem agreeing that social distancing is important and helpful. However, if you do go out to an essential business, you will find there's an over-looming fear that many seem to have of each other now. There is a huge sense of don't touch me, don't look at me, don't breath on me, don't be by me at all. All because of the impact that this virus has caused. It's almost as if in our minds everyone has the virus, even if they don't. But that's why we're doing this right? Because we don't know. Yet, let's not forget that people, no matter if they "might" have the virus or not are still people.

Towards the end of The Crucible, John Proctor is being forced to confess that he has partaken in witchcraft. In doing so he must sign his name in a book of the accused, even though said assumption is false. He replies with one of my favorite quotes of:

"Because it is my name! 

Because I cannot have another in my life! 

Because I lie and sign myself to lies! 

Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! 

How may I live without my name?
I have given you my soul; leave me my name!"

His name.
Leave him his name.

There is a lot that goes along with this quote, but his name was the only truth he had left. He refused to sign the confession saying he was a witch because it was his name. He knew that he was not a witch and he'd rather die knowing the truth of his name instead of living a lie.

My prayer is that we remember the importance of interacting with and caring for the people that we see from 6+ feet a way. Yes we live in a scary time. No we don't want to get the virus. Yes there is a possibility that anyone we come in contact might have it. Yet everyone we see (from a safe distance) at an essential business or walking down the street has a name. They have a meaning, a purpose, a beautiful story, a truth, and are more than the fear of what they MIGHT be infected with.

But like John Proctor,
They have names.
Remember that they have names.

That's Lit

Perhaps it's the fact that we just came home from church a couple hours prior, or that it's officially December first, but Christmas and all it's sparkling, shimmery, brightness is dancing merrily like little sugars plums in my head. It's one of those seasons that has it's own feeling, smell, taste, look...it basically satisfies every sense in its own special way. Yet there's one thing about it that always draws my attention: light.

It's not uncommon for houses in our culture (and I'm sure others as well) to be dusted and sometimes even frosted with strands of bulbs dripping from their roofs. My personal favorites are Christmas trees that are all wrapped with little lighted hugs. However, Christmas delves much deeper that its glittering surroundings, delicious food, mysterious gifts, and family time.

Though I know Christmas has its pagan undertones, there is a faith filled aspect to it as well. God saw that the world was in so much pain that he needed to become part of it and did so through the birth of Jesus. (I encourage you to pause and read Luke 2 if you are unfamiliar with this truth) He is The Way. The Truth. The LIGHT. After reviewing this story for the past 25+ years it hasn't really hit me how much light plays a key role in this holiday.

John 1:5 reads the following:

Read it again.
And again.
Ok that's enough.

At that time God entered the world when it was at one of its darkest points. Sin was something that people were not able to be washed clean of and their ultimate end was death due to their own wrong doings. Yet when Jesus entered the world, so did the light. He was (and still is) the beacon of hope that shines through with pure saving grace. 

To whomever is reading this, I don't know your current circumstance. It could be the worst, most unbearable, bottomless pit. But from my own experiences I've found that God is a good God. He will not leave you, he will not forsake you and I guarantee that, in his own perfect timing, his light will shine through.

Pushing 20

It's September 11th, 2019.

Subtract 19 years and that date would have been no less significant than that of any other that thumb printed itself on this 9th month. (Unless it's your birthday, of course.) I'll be honest it's something I've kind of numbed myself to, like any person likes to do with trauma. It happened, it's done, let's move on. But that's the thing with trauma, it doesn't just go away. I guess what gets me the most is that I didn't have anyone close to me directly affected by it. So why, on the evening of the 18th anniversary, can my mind do anything but escape what my 12 year old self saw playing over, and over, and over on that T.V. set?

After all,
It happened,
It's done,
Let's move on.

Everyone who had the capacity to remember that day has a story.

I remember mine,
Vividly.

I was in sixth grade. Sixth grade. At the school I was attending this meant junior high. The school day had just dawned and homeroom was in session. My happy, balloon-like spirited teacher had left the room for mere moments and returned, deflated. She took breathes so deep it was as if she was gasping for air at the surface of the emotions that were trying to drown her.

"At [whatever time it happened] this morning two planes hit the World Trade Center..."

My naively ignorant, middle school self was confused about why this was so upsetting (let alone didn't even know what the WTC was. Yes, I know, I know). Plane crashes, though devastating, weren't unusual and didn't normally cause so much upset.

It happened,
It's done,
Let's move on.

I came home. My parents were watching the news (as I'm sure millions of other families were) and there on the screen were the planes. There on the screen went the explosions. There on the screen went the towers. There on the screen. Were the people.

It became real.

I distinctly remember seeing a man jumping out of a window, in the skydiver's position. He almost looked as if he was suspended in mid air as he flew hundreds of feet to his eminent death.

But
It happened,
It's done,
Let's move on.

Flash forward to today.

If you frequent the social media world, by now you would have seen the remembrance video that the TSA so perfectly pieced together. Woven seemly in each frame are the voices of operators, victims, and so on layered upon videos and footage. As my pupils took in each image all I could think about was that man jumping out that window. I can't even begin to try to formulate the right wording to explain what these people are feeling and experiencing. Terror? Anxiety? Desperation? All are mere rain drops in an ocean of reality.

There are many that don't just find this day to be a distant memory.

For them
It happened
It's not done.
And they're trying, but they can't move on.

Remember not only what happened, but the people who were affected by it.
And pray, always pray.

Mom Life

I have to admit being a mom is much different than I imagined. It's definitely not to say that I ever imaged it to be a walk in the park (though we have gone on plenty of those), nor am I saying it's excruciating. What I am saying is that my expectations were more or less different than the dose of reality I've experienced. Now before I go further, know that I love our son and being a mom. However I believe life, media, etc...gives us false hopes of what motherhood looks like.

Expectation: You will never sleep....EVER!

Reality: You will sleep...SOMETIMES!

Honestly this is really dependent on the baby and his or her demeaner. David and I were blessed with a very mellow child. Though he does have his fussy moments, I can't say I have had the experience of staying up all night and day trying to calm a screaming child. (I am aware there are moms who have, and know that you're doing a great job and my prayers are with you.) Nonetheless, I have experienced what its like getting up multiple times in the night and then trying to take care of a tiny human, house, errands, animals, and the like while you run around on fumes and adrenalin all day. (Though I'm only on maternity leave, don't let anyone convince you that stay at home moms don't do anything.) For the sake of those around me, and my own sanity, I do my best to sleep when the baby sleeps. Cliche? Yes, but honestly I learned that the best thing I can do for my mental, emotional, physical, and family's health is to keep myself relatively rested.

Expectation: Postpartum will be easy.

Reality: Postpartum sucks.

I hate to word it like that, but honestly I don't think I have a more eloquent way to say it. Ask any mom how her postpartum days went and I am about 90% sure she would agree with me. For me, the weeks immediately following the birth of Baby S were more difficult than my induction, labor, and c-section combined. Dramatic you say? Physical pain is easily forgotten, emotions are not. Basically imagine going through puberty for a second time all while crying for no reason, being angry for no reason, and feeling so overwhelmed by all the energies and things around you that you don't feel functional. I even had to muster up all my courage to leave the house with our child. I am thankful that I had and still have my husband for support. Postpartum depression is a real thing and if it's something you feel like you are dealing with, please reach out to your OB or midwife. It's not a "This too shall pass." thing, you deserve to have a listening ear.

Expectation: It's all about you and the baby.

Reality: It's not.

I'll be honest, after having our child it was hard not to get a little self-centered. Everyone is giving you gifts, everyone wants to come see you and the baby, you are the one healing, you are the one dealing with postpartum junk. See the trend? Though all of that may be true, keep in mind that those around you have feelings and emotions too. Your support system deserves to have the same amount of understanding, patience, and respect as they did before.

And finally...

Expectation: You will love your baby.

Reality: You will LOVE your baby.

Though it may take a little time to bond with your new bundle of joy (it did for me...but it takes time for me to bond with anyone), once you do, I promise it will be the strongest you will ever feel. I never thought that I could love someone solely for existing. Its not something I can really explain.

Despite the messy parts, I am grateful to have taken on this role of motherhood. It's a blessing, a miracle, and definitely not something to take for granted.

If your heart hurts reading this either from and unfulfilled desire for, or loss of a child, know you are loved and prayed for. I promise God will bring him or her into your life when he or she is meant to be.

Confessions of a C-Section Mom

Mother's Day is coming and in honor of my new "leap" (see what I did there? You know, because of the name of my blog? Anyways...moving on...) into motherhood I figured it would be fitting to do a short series on life as a new mama.

So I guess I could have technically titled this "Confessions of a New Mom," but I want to touch a little bit on the feeling of a C-section delivery. I'm not going to go in to too much detail, some of you might be weak stomached and honestly the whole thing is just really personal to me. But I guess the best thing I can say is that (no offense) in my humble opinion birth plans are kind of a unrealistic :). Ok so it helps you prepare, ok maybe it gives you comfort and piece of mind. Those are definitely all good things to have when bringing a tiny human in to the world. However, once I found out I needed to be induced, I knew things would be different than I could have imagined.

Long story short after a couple days of labor inducing meds, lack of dilation, and other frustrating happenings, we decided the best way to deliver for both the baby and myself would be a c-section.

Honestly it brought feelings in the form of relief and failure. Yes, I said failure. It was what I considered my very, very, very last resort. After not being able to have a water birth, I was determined to push our baby out of me with evey inch of my being. However, God gave me my first message that my life is no longer based around my wants anymore, but our son's. Before I knew it my husband and I were in the OR (which is a whole other story in itself...it wasn't pretty) and within time I heard the cries of my sweet baby boy and I too couldn't help but cry.

It wasn't until about an hour or so later that I got the chance to hold him. He had a short visit to the NICU due to fluid in his lungs (he's doing great now, you would have never known) and I was moved to my postpartum room. Once I did have him in my arms, I knew that it didn't matter how he was brought in to this world, I loved and will continue to love him fiercely.

I know people have their different opinions about c-sections. Some are even bold enough to say it's not truly a delivery (which is complete bull by the way). But know that if it`'s the type of birth that you need to have it does not make you a failure. It makes you a great mom because you're willing to go through anything to have your child brought into the world so he or she can be healthy.

P.S. Moms who have delivered vaginally, you rock too :)

Dear Baby Boy

Dear Baby Boy,

You have a name, I promise.

But until you are out in the world, and exposed to more than amniotic fluid, it will stay a secret. Though some people may find such things ridiculous, I know it's not. It's your name and you deserve to be the first (besides your father and I) to know what it is.

Though you've been growing inside of me for almost 8 months now, I still can't say I fully know who you are.

I know you're active.

Your movements range from surprising to timid. As annoying as they may get sometimes, I couldn't be happier that they're there.

I know your heartbeat is strong.

Since the first time your dad and I listened to the pumping during our first appointment the midwife always mentioned how great each beat was. I'm happy to say it's been stable ever since.

I know that you are a gift.

Your dad and I prayed for you for several months. You will never fully understand the frustration, pain, and struggle we went through as we anxiously awaited your conception. But do know that when God decided to knit you together we were overjoyed, and still are.

I know that you will be born into a world of confusion.

Outside of my uterus is a world where not everyone is kind to each other, hurt is common, and there is darkness in places that doesn't always go away. Yet, I know you will be light.

I know that you will be disciplined.

I will tell you now, your dad and I are not your friends. Though we love you beyond belief, we will be strict with you. Until you are out on your own we'll have rules that you will follow and consequences will be given if they are broken. Know that our sternness is not because we're out to ruin your life (though you may think so), it's because we know how important it is to be respectful and in tern be respected.

I know that you will grow up to be what you are meant to.

Your father and I want you to pursue your interests and use them to figure out your life's work.

Lastly, I know you will be different.

You'll be different than anything I could have even imagined. From your facial features to your personality, God created you to be who you are and it will be beyond anything I could have dreamed.

I look forward to meeting you once these next months are through.
Until then, I'll write again soon.

Love,
Mommy

Tea for Three

How do I start a blog post that can be so filled with such God-glorifying joy, but risk causing pain at the same time?

I guess it's like swimming, just hold your breath and jump.

One...

...Two...

...Three

After over a year of trying, my husband David and I will be expecting our first child at the end of March. As much as we'd love to take credit for it (I mean, I guess we were crucial factors ;D), we can't do anything but give glory to God. For without him this miracle of a child truly would not have happened.

It's kind of funny you know, everyone tells you to be careful because with every moment of intercourse conception is possible. Though this may technically be true, I wouldn't hold it to be absolute truth (at least not in our case). It wasn't long after our day of wedded bliss that we had decided that we wanted a baby. Being two relatively healthy humans we thought it would be no problem. Yet after multiple months of negative pregnancy tests it showed to be more of a challenge than we expected. I still remember sitting on the edge of our couch one month, test in hand and nothing but a hot feeling of frustration and anger while tears slid their way down my cheeks. Constantly going back to, "What are we doing wrong?"

The answer?
Nothing.

Looking back, I honestly think God held on to our ability to conceive because he knew we weren't ready yet. Did we want a baby? Like you would not believe. Did we have more to learn before we could have one? Absolutely. He took us on an adventure that ranged from learning how to best resolve conflict with each other, to pseudo children in the form of two little doggies. However, to think this journey was easy is laughable, for gold truly is refined by fire.

As we were going through our trial, we received a message from God through a pastor at the church we were attending at the time. (Now, keep in mind that we had not mentioned to anyone in our congregation that we were working towards this goal of a tiny human.) He came up to us and said, "God wants me to tell you that this time next year (this was last October) you will have a baby..." David and I looked at each in disbelief and I couldn't help but break down and cry on the spot.

It was like the world was lifted off of my shoulders.

That being said, sometimes when you know something so incredible is about to happen, waiting gets even more difficult. Frustration and anger returned with each month of negative pregnancy tests that followed. I even remember saying, "We're supposed to have a miracle child, but nothing's happening! Why is he doing this to us?" The pastor came up to us again after a service with a huge smile saying, "Your blessing is coming, God wants me to tell you your blessing is coming!" Though my doubts were about me (I mean, he said that before and nothing had happened...), it did help to know that God hadn't forgotten us.

Enter summer.

It was a July morning and we were down to our last two pregnancy tests. Though I was hesitant at first to take them (one can only handle so many disappointments), we knew that it was the right time.

One line showed up.

Typical.
Then....

Two lines?
OMG TWO LINES!!

The best way to describe the situation is surreal.
God provided a child for us.

Now you may be thinking, Ok, but you mentioned that this could be a painful post...how? I'm glad you asked. I think one of the hardest things to see while we were going through this experience was the cutesy/cheesy posts of people announcing that they're pregnant. I realize that it's an exciting time and it's something that people want to share, which is awesome and I'm definitely not saying they should stop. I will be honest though, when you've been trying for so long and conception seems so out of reach, they can hurt (unintentionally).

I don't know where your desire for a baby is right now, but if you are feeling any frustration about conception know that you are not alone. Whether it's been 3 months or three years, the feelings of disappointment and anger are real and it's ok to recognize why you feel that way. In fact, it's healthy. Yet also know that if it's God's will for you to have a child, it will happen. It may not be today, it may not be next month, but He will make a way.