Good Things

Despite the woes of the final weeks of pregnancy, the oppressive heat, and the limitations of my SI joint, there are several good things happening over here. Martha Stewart may think she owns the copyright to the term "good things", but i'm not talking about recipes and kitchen organization. I'm talking about every good and perfect gift that comes from the Lord. Here are a few of the blessings we've been enjoying recently:

1. Mother's Helper - A sweet and considerate girl from church offered to come over and play with the BabyGirl one morning so i could get some stuff done. She was a saint. She played so patiently with the BabyGirl! At ten years old, she definitely has a gentle and quiet spirit, something i long to cultivate myself but doubt i'll ever achieve.

2. The Grabber - Oh people, i love this thing! It used to be the case that whatever items landed on the floor during the course of the day simply remained there until The Professor got home. Unless i could sweet-talk the BabyGirl into picking something up for me, it wasn't going to get picked up. And since the BabyGirl was the reason that 97% of those things came to be on the floor in the first place, she wasn't often in the mood to retrieve them up. Until i received The Grabber. A nice older man at church gave it to me. I later found out the back story. His wife had broken her arm a few years ago, so for Christmas he bought her The Grabber. He thought it was clever and amusing; she was appalled. She told him, "Get that thing out of my sight!" It was never spoken of again until they were getting ready to go to church and he said, "Wait one minute; i have to get that Grabber." She was irritated to learn that it had still been dwelling under their roof because she thought he had disposed of it. But when he told her that he was passing it on to me, she was pleased to know that it was going to a home where it would be loved and appreciated. And boy is it appreciated! We've been grabbing like crazy over here. I think from now on I'm going to buy one for anyone who gets pregnant.

3. Baby Name Books - My friend Carrie-Who-Is-Not-Scary heard about our baby name dilemma. She checked out a stack of baby name books from the library and delivered them to my house! It was so thoughtful of her during the time when i couldn't get out of the house much because i couldn't walk well. One of the books she checked out was an Irish name book. While entertaining, it was not very useful. Irish names are just plain weird. Somehow we latched onto the name Sinead and joked about it for several days. (SPOILER ALERT: the baby will not be named Sinead.)

4. Baby Gifts! - We have been so greatful for all the wonderful gifts we have received for BG2! Our UPS man probably has our address memorized. If and when BG2's room ever gets presentable, i will be so excited to show you the before and after pictures. Every morning i go look to see if magic gnomes showed up in the night to put everything in order for me, and every morning it's still a big mess.

It has been so wonderful to receive such help and generosity from family and friends these past few weeks. Thank you to everyone for taking care of us!

 

My Budding Modeling Career

Such as it is =].

Only the most elite models and movie stars are chosen to pose while pregnant, so i think this puts me in a special category.

This is for a promo flier to be used at a big baby expo, hence they needed a pregnant woman. I think i was the only person available who fit the profile.

Tenderhearted

My debilitating, unbearable Sacroiliac Joint pain is back. With a vengeance. I've been in horrible pain for a week. Sometimes i can barely walk. It also hurts when i sit down. Lying in bed is painful too.

The Professor and the BabyGirl have been so wonderful to me in my suffering. After i'd already endured several days and it wasn't getting better, my coping skills disappeared. On one particular day when the pain was really bad, i started crying. The BabyGirl and i were sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch, and i just burst into tears without warning. At first she looked at me with a "what in the world is happening here" expression. But within seconds it changed into concern. She said to me softly and with compassion, "Mama crying. Why tears, Mama?"

I told her that i was going to rest on the couch and finish my crying; she nodded understandingly. I remembered to grab a box of tissues en route and the BabyGirl trotted after me. As soon as i got settled down on the couch (which is no small feat), i wanted a glass of water so badly. Well, as luck would have it, one of her favorite things in this world is carrying my water cup. Most of the time she is prohibited from doing so because it results in lots of spilled water.

When i nicely asked her to please fetch my water cup from the kitchen table, she thought it was her lucky day. It was as if she was born for this. She was SO HAPPY to run back into the kitchen and get my water cup from the table. The task should only have taken a second. Instead, i heard chairs being pushed around and some grunting. Then she mumbled to herself something about, "Reach!" Finally she returned triumphantly with a cup in hand. Unfortunately, it was not my current water cup that was left on the edge of the table within easy reach. It was Daddy's water cup from dinner last night, which had not been cleared away. It had been moved to the very center of the table where you could not easily get to it if you happened to be 36 inches tall. But she had gone after that day-old water cup with everything she had. She climbed and grunted and reached until she claimed her prize. Mama had requested water, and the BabyGirl was not going to return empty-handed.

She was so pleased with herself as she presented me with the day-old cup she had procured. I thanked her profusely and made a big deal about what a great helper she was and such a big girl to get the cup all by herself. Nonetheless, i couldn't bring myself to drink the small amount of water that was in that cup. Day-old Daddy backwash was swimming on the surface and taunting me. It really grossed me out.

But i was so touched by her desire to help that it took my mind off the pain a little. Then she sat down next to me and snuggled up close. She gently rubbed my leg and said, "All better, Mama. All better."

I'm so greatful for that moment. She doesn't have the first idea about sacroiliac joints, but she dropped everything to be present with me when i was in need. She has repeatedly demonstrated her compassion during her short life, and i am so impressed by her caring nature.

A few weeks ago it was my turn to serve in the nursery. The kids were sitting in chairs quietly eating their crackers at snack time. A mom came in carrying her three-year-old girl who was in the middle of a tantrum. It wasn't a kicking, thrashing tantrum; it was a fairly well composed crying tantrum. The girl just wanted to cry and nothing else. She didn't want to be comforted by her mom, she didn't want to talk about it, she didn't want to be distracted with toys, she just wanted to cry. So her mom put her in a chair in the corner and left.

Most of the kids in the nursery took little notice of this. They continued enjoying their snack. The BabyGirl, however, was full of concern. She had such a worried look on her face when she said to me, "Girl is crying!" I asked the BabyGirl if she wanted to go give her a hug, which is exactly what she wanted to do. Unfortunately, the crying girl wasn't so much in the mood for a hug. She had her head buried in her lap, and none of her body parts were very accessible. The BabyGirl did the best she could and hugged as much of the girl as she could get to.

(We later found out that the crying girl had lice at the time (her mom didn't discover the critters until that afternoon), so i was VERY RELIEVED that the hug wasn't a close embrace!)

Once again, the situation proved that the BabyGirl is a very tenderhearted soul who is attentive to others.

I didn't fully grasp the significance of all these things until a friend asked me if the BabyGirl was treating me okay while i'm so physically limited. I told her that the BabyGirl's favorite pasttime is snuggling, and that she is perfectly happy to curl up with me and read books. My friend was shocked. She has three little boys, so she didn't even know that such a thing as snuggling existed in the world. Her boys want to spend all day playing Hide & Seek, Superheroes Jump Off the Couch, and Pillow Attack.

It was the words "pillow attack" that really got to me. I'm pretty sure that pillow attack would be the end of me. The only foreseeable outcomes are either several weeks in traction, or a Clinitron bed with a Sip 'n Puff.

I was extremely greatful for my BabyGirl prior to that conversation, and now i'm exponentially more greatful! Praise the Lord for snuggles instead of pillow attack.

I am excited to see the plans that God has for the BabyGirl, and the ways in which she will be able to apply her gift of compassion. I pray that He gives me the wisdom and insight to point her towards the woman He created her to be.

 

Praying for Friends With Enemies

I've never been a good pray-er.

My praying regimen has always been more reactive than proactive. When things comes up, i pray for them. Otherwise i don't have a regular, routine prayer life.

The past few weeks i had been feeling drawn to prayer in a new way. I want to grow and mature in this area. Incidentally, the leaders of my church feel the same way. Our church is focusing intently on prayer this summer, with several resources to help people learn more about praying.

Our pastor is preaching through the Psalms, and we are using the lessons found there to shape our prayers. We have a daily reading guide to use for personal study.

Let me quickly explain why the heck i'm telling you all this. It's because i am a huge failure when it comes to journaling. I kind of hate to journal. But occasionally, there are journal-worthy events that i want to record. This blog is composed of 30% BabyGirl stories, 25% cosmic freak-outs, 40% preserving our life events to remember when we are old and gray, and 5% miscellaneous. This entry on prayer falls into "miscellaneous." You are welcome to leave now. I'm not writing this because i necessarily want you to know about it. It's more so that i personally want to remember it. Having evaluated all my options of effective places to document things i want to remember, this came out as the best choice.

Okay, so moving on. Last night The Professor and i studied Psalm 5 together. As we were discussing it, we decided that we couldn't fully identify with it because we do not have any full-fledged, oppressive enemies. We started brainstorming people we are close to who are currently being attacked by enemies. The answer was very clear. There are two men in the Big City that are having a terrible time right now as a result of a particular person. To accomplish our task of praying through the psalms, we are praying Psalm 5: 11-12 for our friends who are dealing with an enemy:

"But let all who take refuge in you be glad;
let them ever sing for joy.
Spread your protection over them,
that those who love your name may rejoice in you. 
For surely, O Lord, you bless the righteous;
you surround them with your favor as with a shield."
 

Friendly Neighbor Gift

A very nice older lady who lives two doors down gave the BabyGirl a bag full of beanie babies. Apparently this lady was quite the beanie baby collector at one point, because she she said that she had already gotten rid of "most of them" before she remembered the BabyGirl, and was sad that she was only able to give us "the few that were left." We recently had instituted a strict NO MORE STUFFED ANIMALS policy, but who can say no to a nice old lady? Additionally, the BabyGirl loves them, so i think we'll be keeping up with them for a while. Thanks, friendly neighbor!

Big Girl Bed

Someone slept in her new bed last night!

And this is what her room looked like when we got her up in the morning:

Baby Mine

In the mom’s online discussion group that I’m a part of, my friend Emily shared a link to a post about “Your Children Want YOU!” It’s about being present instead of being pinterest. To be a mom who listens and loves. In the post, the author mentions her ritual of singing the song “Baby Mine” to her daughter every night. I thought, “Oh that’s so sweet! I love that song; I’ll sing it too.” I had to google the lyrics because I hadn’t heard it since I was 6 years old watching Dumbo. I couldn’t even read through the lyrics without bawling my eyes out. Oh dear, I thought, I’ll never be able to sing this song out loud if I can’t even read the lyrics silently!

At my next snuggle session with the BabyGirl, I decided to try it out. But I could only remember a line or two:

Rest your head close to my heart,

Never depart, baby of mine.

She said, “More,” so I sang it again. And again. And again. For several days, she would request, “Sing more Baby Mine,” and I would sing those two lines.

Those beautiful, timeless moments of snuggles and singing are what gives life to parenthood. At other times, however, things aren’t so well under our control. Being out of control leads to incapacitating Mom Worry.

At the BabyGirl’s 4 day check-up, the pediatrician found some concerning heart issues and sent us to the ER at Children’s for further testing. Well, the further testing was concerning too, so the ER visit turned into an ICU admission for a million-dollar cardiac workup. That night, after spending the entire day bouncing from doctor’s office to ER to ICU, we had to leave her there in the hospital. She was staying there alone, hooked up to wires and monitors. We were going home alone, without our bundle of joy.

We cried and prayed together and asked God to watch over her for us while we were away. I was terrified, that having endured the most grueling and traumatic birth of 90% of women I know, that I would lose her four days later.

Prior to having kids, I wasn’t too bothered by the cosmic questions of Why Do Things Happen. Issues like the problem of suffering, and to what extent does God control each event, were things that The Professor enjoyed wrestling with but didn’t hold my attention. Until I myself experienced suffering. Then I was plagued with all sorts of questions. Why did I have a difficult birth? Why was I in constant pain for months on end? Why did the BabyGirl have to spend a week in the ICU? What is God doing here? What is the point of this?

The thing of it is, my story isn’t the one that breeds questions. I have a friend whose twins were born 12 weeks early. Everyday she made a 3 hr round trip to the NICU to hold their fragile bodies in her arms and beg God that they would live. I worked with a nurse whose son had active hemophilia. One day she got a panicked call from the nanny and had to rush home to give him a blood transfusion. Another friend’s baby was born with a birth defect that required 4 surgeries before she was a year old. Another friend’s two sons had such severe learning disabilities and behavioral problems that she was constantly worried they’d be kicked out of another school.

Talk about Mom Worry! But it doesn’t even take extreme circumstances to ignite a bout of Mom Worry; the little things can do it too. Your infant chokes on something in the church nursery. Your toddler runs out into the street. Your child stands a little too close to the edge of a bridge. And then, oh my heavens, they turn into teenagers.

Mom Worry is everywhere. Some people face it earlier than others. For some it strikes in early pregnancy. Others don’t encounter it until after the baby is born. And others may not fully experience it until years later. But I think we all suffer from it.

In all my time of grappling with the big questions of Why, I keep coming back to this verse:

The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;

May the name of the Lord be praised.

This baby of mine? She isn’t really mine. She is a gift from the Lord. He gave her to me, and I am honored to be her steward. But if I believe that this world isn’t my home, then it’s not her home either. If I am temporary here, then she is temporary here.

Our pastor has been preaching through Genesis, and we just studied the account of Leah and Rachel. Poor Leah was unloved and unwanted, but the Lord blessed her with children. With each son that she bore, she thought she would find the fulfillment that she sought. It took her until the fourth son, Judah, to be able to say, “This time I will praise the Lord.”

That’s how I am; too knuckleheaded to learn a lesson the first three times. When I imagine her story, I think about all the things outside her control. She was forced to marry a man who didn’t want her. She had to then share that man with her sister. She thought having a son would make him love her. She thought having two and three sons would make him love her. But finally, she saw the truth: I can control nothing in this life. All I can do is praise the Lord.

for Sarah K