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. 

Blissful Ignorance

A few weeks ago David and I were sitting on the beach together. It was the warmest evening in months and as the sun set we noticed a group of people in their early twenties throwing a Frisbee around. The guys showed off their "skills" to girls who perched themselves on towels. Each lady seemed more interested in her phone than her coed's failed attempts to impress.

I couldn't help but smile and joke about the situation though. Granted, not all early twenty year old humans act this way, but I laugh because I've been there. Now, at age 26 some of you may be thinking Well, you're not that much older, what do you have to say about it? I'm glad you asked.

I remember what I was like 5-7 years ago.
I thought I knew everything.
I thought I owned the world.
I thought that because I was "out on my own" (hahaha not even close) I was free.
Yet, looking back, I was nothing more than naive.

That's not to say that I didn't have life experiences that shaped me, but in the end I still had parents that took care of me. Even in college, a time of what I thought was complete independence, I was still very much dependent. It wasn't until post college that I truly found that my knowledge of life is more limited than I thought.

In fact, I've found that as I grow older, there's less and less I know and a question of why is not uncommon.

Like...

Why are people so comfortable posting scantily clad pictures of themselves, while things like mental disorders and illnesses are still so hard to openly discuss?

Why does the ability to hide behind the screen of social media bring validation to people being disrespectful to each other?

Why are we so concerned with things like bathrooms when starvation, poverty, racism, persecution, etc... run rampant not only across the globe, but in our own cities?

Why do some of the most important jobs cause employees to live pay check to pay check, while anyone in the entertainment and sports world make millions over night?

Why does time and money have such an unhealthy grasp on our society?

The list continues, but you get the idea. I can only predict that as the world grows in population, my questions will expand and with them my knowledge will begin to shrink.

Now that I think of it, throwing a Frisbee in a fantasy world of blissful ignorance and naivety doesn't seem so bad.

Infectious Musings Part 2

The pain has subsided and I'm left with only a few more antibiotics to take, but I know that there's more to be received from this experience than an increased count of white blood cells.

God revealed a lot to me through this experience, I mean he's present in every aspect of life...so perhaps it shouldn't be that surprising. However, sometimes it takes three infections to give you a spiritual wake-up call.

First of all, it's OK to ask for help. People care about you more than you realize.

I'm a pretty independent person. I take pleasure and pride in figuring things out on my own and doing things myself. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it's important to realized that life isn't meant to be lived alone. Without the help of my co-workers, fiance, family, doctors, nurses, receptionists, imagining techs, etc...my experience would've been, to say the least, a disaster.

Second, if something hurts or doesn't feel right, go to the doctor.

Perhaps a more painfully (no pun intended) obvious statement, but I have to say that this was definitely a kick in the rear of a reminder. I have a pretty high pain tolerance and tend to figure things will go away on their own, but that's apparently not always the case. Prolonged pain, or any sort of severe abnormality should probably be brought to the attention of a doctor sooner rather than later.

Third, take time to stop.

Honestly, one of the first things that I said to my mom after we got back from the doctor was "I don't have time for this! I need to do testing with my kids!" I wouldn't be surprised if God laughed a little at my frustrated fit. Though work is definitely a priority, there's no way I could have gone back right away. I go about 100 mph during the week and don't always take time to take care of myself. It's important for anyone to take time to breathe, pray, meditate, what have you. Not just for the physical health, but mental, spiritual, and emotional health as well.

I'm not sure what else to say about the experience, but that I'm glad it's over. Despite a bit of occasional soreness, I am much better.

Praise God for lessons
Praise God for people
Praise God for medicine
Praise God for healing

Praise God

Infectious Musings Part 1

Ok, so let me start by saying that for the past 6 days I've been battling an infection. This isn't any sort of play on words or deep analogy, the bacterial universe gifted me with an actual infection. Three to be exact: bladder, urinary tract, and kidney. A triple threat trifecta that has kept me under house arrest. Yet, as I waltz towards the effervescent light of recovery I have placed a whole new pair of spectacles on my face. They're not so much rose colored, as they are reflective.

I suppose I should start at the beginning, as stated before, I've heard it's a very good place to start  ("...when you read you begin with A,B,C when you sing you begin with doe, re, me..." Sound of Music anyone? No? Ok moving on...)

Flash back to last Thursday.
I walk into work.
Our department secretary greets me at the door asking how I'm doing today.
My answer?

"I think I need to go to the urgent care."

As if to be a hive full of bees, my coworkers swarmed in from their offices with concern.
After a quick discussion of who would drive me, our secretary grabs her keys and we make our way to the car.

Walking had never been so difficult before.

Fast forward to the doctor's office.

My mom comes into the examination room holding my baby niece (who was very well behaved and brought much comic relief through this whole experience. Thanks Peaches.)

Soon the tests began
Blood test...CHECK
Urinalysis...CHECK

From there we head to the hospital

Ultrasound (to check for kidney stones)...CHECK

Ultrasound band...so fashionable.

The whole time my mom and I are trying to keep my dad, sister, and fiance in the loop about everything. I've never been more thankful for the cellphone.

At last we are free to go...kind of.

My mom graciously took me back home with her to be in her care and I was ready to lay down and never get up (in a non-dead sort of way). Until I got a call saying that I needed to go into a CT scan. Apparently there was risk of blockage and if they found something it could mean a trip to the ER.

So we went back to the hospital the next day.

I don't know if you've ever had a CT scan before, but it's kind of like being sucked into a giant doughnut. It talked in a kind of robotic voice too...telling me when to breathe and what not. So it had that going to for it.

Once I stepped off the machine the tech told me that it would take 24 hours to get the results.
Back home we went to become pawns in a waiting game.

David (my fiance) came to be with me that evening (and the one following as well). I opened the door and he walked up with a bouquet of lilies, a card, and a balloon. Definitely a sight for sore eyes :)

The next morning my phone rang bright and early. Attached to the other line was the voice of the doctor with the results of my ultrasound. (Dun, dun, dun...too dramatic? Yeah, probably).

Everything was clear. No stones, no blockage.

Praise God.

I'm happy to say I'm on the mend and am cleared to go back to work soon. The power of prayer, antibiotics, and support of loved ones is strong. Yet, I can't leave this experience without seeing God work through all of this.

He tends to be good at that.

Different

I feel deep tonight. Like the type of deep you get when you can finally take some time to think about life and all of it's meaning. The who's, what's, when's, where's, and why's that spiral around in an ominous orb that floats above our heads constantly causing us to question what the next movement we make will be. A fortuitous bubble that only God can pop, or grow.

Or something like that

To do such a bold thing would take much more than a simple dance of digits across an idle keyboard into a parallel world of words and thoughts.

It takes time, something I've found that I take for granted. Especially now as my life fills with arrangements, priorities, and incessant things to do. Is that necessary bad? No, I enjoy staying busy. Yet, I wouldn't say a lack of reflection time is all together grand either.

But tonight, the quiet came.

I was walking home from a coffee date with an old high school friend (I hadn't seen her for years, but I'm happy to say we picked up right where we left off) and came across this house.

It catches my eye every time I walk past it. So beautifully out of place it sits facing a line of suburbia type townhouses. An unkempt lawn with a chain link fence that winds it's way around the the perimeter. I'm not sure if it's inhabited (if so, it's probably weird that I'm posting a picture of their house on the internet....eh, oh well), but I hope the owners never change it.

It's a reminder to me that, as a human race we aren't meant to be the same. I never understood why people made fun of others for their differences, especially the ones that they are gifted with from birth. I don't say it as something they can't help, because I don't see why we should have to help the"differences" we're naturally born with. As if each little imperfection required an apology.

I'm left handed. Now, was that something I was born with? I'm not sure, all I know is that my mom has a picture of me eating yogurt left handed in my highchair when I was little. But it's something I was definitely made fun of for. On top of that I write with a left-hander's hook so it wasn't uncommon for kids to look at me and ask me why I write so weirdly. I know that this is nothing compared to racial persecution or homosexual harassment, but nonetheless it made me question myself. As if a specific hand could define me as a person, but because I broke the right-handed mold I was different.

Normalcy, in my opinion, is a relative term. What is normal for one person can be completely outrageous for the next dependent on lifestyle, beliefs, cultures, what have you. Everyone has different needs, and we must recognize that there is no such thing as a human cure-all.

Besides, what's the fun in having a million copies of the same person?

We are beautiful because we aren't alike.

ET Phone Work

It's been a hard semester.

I'm not really sure how else to describe it.

Just...
...Hard.

I feel like there's been a lot more pain with my students this year. For confidentiality sake I can't get too into it, but I can say that spiritual warfare has been strong.

I've had days where the best thing I can do is just tell them that I am praying for them. As much as I want to suck out every single bit of darkness from their lives,

I can't.

I
Just
Can't

But honestly, through the hurt that's been happening I have to say God has continually shown me how much I belong in my field of work.

My job picked me.
Not the other way around.


Two skills God has gifted me with are the ability to listen and the ability to observe, and I don't think that was by coincidence. I've found that part of my job description is to be a sounding board. Working with mainly middle and high schoolers, a good majority of the time all they need is someone to talk at. No input, no objective view, they just need to let the word vomit flow. Honestly though, I think that's one of my favorite parts about this job. My students confide in me. I know them better than anyone in the school.

Our department is unique.

I've seen students walk into our doors and you can feel their energy change.
It's almost like a sigh of relief.

Now, educational therapy is by no means an easy undertaking. The minds of students are poked and prodded in the most challenging ways. Lethargy and tears are not uncommon occurrences.

After all, these students are learning how to learn.

But here, they know they're safe.