This Mother’s Day, I wrote my mom a note instead of buying some fancy card that has a catchy saying. Not because I was trying to be cheap, but because Mother’s day had become so much more to me than just a day to celebrate my mom. Though I was thankful for my mom and wanted to celebrate her, I never quite understood the love she felt toward me or the sacrifice her life was for my siblings and I.

First of all, labor. This, in and of itself, is a bonding experience. The pain you go through to meet your baby is excruciating, but beautiful. It is difficult to explain. You endure nine long months of pregnancy to welcome your baby through hours of painful and exhausting contractions. The baby is out and the feeling of joy is immense and strong. Looking into your babies eyes is powerful. I still tear up thinking about this first moment with Jackson lying on my chest, staring into my eyes.

Second, sacrifice. To most, sleep is a precious thing that few are willing to give up. On my best days in college, I got 9.5 hours of sleep. On my worst, I got zero, but I would quickly make it up after the test/quiz/paper was turned in. Same after college, I loved sleep and made sure I always got plenty of it. It was super important to me. Growing up, my parents would wonder where I was only to find me asleep in bed. I love my sleep. This is something that was soon lost when Jackson arrived. My labor was from 3pm on Monday to 6am on Tuesday (though, I slept quite a bit during labor…don’t ask me how, but I did, and it was amazing). And after he was born, I didn’t sleep until later that night.  Then the subsequent nights were spent waking every two hours to feed him, change his diaper, and soothe his cries. That is just one small sacrifice of the many you make as a mother. Others include: nights out with your friends into the wee hours of the night, spontaneous road trips, alone time, long showers, pre-pregnancy body, boobs that aren’t constantly being utilized for their milk production, etc., etc., etc….

This past week, I so looked forward to Mother’s Day. I had no expectations except to enjoy the day for what it was. I gave some hints to my husband of things I would appreciate (breakfast, flowers, card). But even then, if those things didn’t happen, I made a commitment to myself that I was going to enjoy the day for what it was, celebrating motherhood in all of its glory thankful for God, my husband, and my son for giving me the chance to be a mother.

It exceeded my expectations considerably!! What a beautiful day!

Here’s some pictures of how the day went:

Jackson in his dedication/Mother’s Day outfit

Jackson in his dedication/Mother’s Day outfit

Jackson in his dedication/Mother’s Day outfit

Jackson in his dedication/Mother’s Day outfit

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Snuggling on the couch with my boys

My beautiful Mother’s Day Flowers

My beautiful Mother’s Day Flowers

Mother’s Day card from Jackson (aka Eric)

Mother’s Day card from Jackson (aka Eric)

I grew up going to Christian school – kindergarten until I graduated college.

College graduation 3 years ago yesterday (5/5/12)…crazy how quickly time flies!

I loved my experience in private, christian school. It taught me so much. We had so many great experiences and life lessons that have followed me into adulthood. Among the great life lessons were the chapel songs we sang each week. I can still sing you the songs and do the hand motions from songs we sung in elementary school.

The superman song is one that still pops into my head whenever someone says “superman.” The words say: “I got freckles on my nose and holes in my shoes. The wrong color clothes and a missing tooth; I’m not superman. God, you made me the kid that I aaaaaaaammmm. Thank you God for who I am! I don’t have to be a superman! Thank you God for who I am! All I want to be is YOUR BEST FRIEND!!!”

When I was a kid, I didn’t really understand what it meant to try to be someone else. I was myself and I sure didn’t require perfection out of myself. If anything, I gave myself more grace than I should have. As I grew, that changed quite a bit. I cared more and more what people thought about me. Life became a game of picking and choosing pieces of my life to share and pieces of my life to tuck away and hide, to leave them in the dark.

My husband and I at our friend’s wedding – post-wedding, pre-baby 🙂

Galatians 5:1, “For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” 

John 3:19-21, “And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.”

Luke 11:33-36, “No one after lighting a lamp puts it in a cellar or under a basket, but on a stand, so that those who enter may see the light. Your eye is the lamp of your body. When your eye is healthy, your whole body is full of light, but when it is bad, your body is full of darkness. Therefore be careful lest the light in you be darkness. If then your whole body is full of light, having no part dark, it will be wholly bright, as when a lamp with its rays gives you light.”

2 Corinthians 12:9-10, “But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

My imperfect family 🙂 and our accidental photobomb… 🙂

I’d like to think I am a pretty trusting person. I would like to think that I am pretty trustworthy myself.

The reality is, I’m not either.

I think back to a situation in high school where I completely ditched one friend, who I told I would get ready at her house for prom or winter formal or whatever dance it was, to get ready at another friends house. I told that friend that I couldn’t come to their house because my parents were going out of town and couldn’t take me to her house. The truth: I thought the other friend was “cooler” or something so I ditched my original plans and chose to lie. So rude. And so deceitful. I lost a dear friend over that. I still remember the look on her face when I walked into the dance with my other friend. She was devastated and hurt. And I did everything in my power to avoid her that night because I knew I was guilty. Until the end of high school, I justified it and lied even to myself about the situation trying to make it okay in my mind and make her seem like the ridiculous one for being “upset” about it. I still regret that choice today.

For your viewing pleasure: me and friends, at a dance, in high school. And not the same dance from the story above.

Now, I know that it has been manyyyyy years since high school, and I am not the same person, but I can list a story similar to that in every stage of my life from when I was a little kid in elementary school, to junior high, high school, college, and now in my adult life. I try my best to make honest decisions these days, and when I do mess up, I try everything in my power to apologize and make that relationship right.

But, alas, I am human. I make mistakes. I sin. 

Now for the being a trusting person part, I would say I am better at this. Goodness, though, loving someone completely without boundaries and without a guard up, that is hard. And I would say I never really did completely. Until, I became a mother.

I love my husband so much, but even in that relationship, he can hurt me. He can make me sad. Mad. Upset. And, he has done all of those things (I know, big surprise, right? ;)). Walls get put up and relationships suffer because of sin and pain (I’m not saying this is right, I’m just saying how it is). Love is done in reservation and in fear, and then it becomes tainted and dull. It becomes watered-down, a fainter version of the real thing.

Wedding Day – 2.21.14

I was thinking about the love I have for Jackson and everything he means to me, and I thought, he never really has done anything to hurt me (except the labor part, but that’s beside the point…and I kinda did that to myself by choosing to get pregnant – HA!).

Jackson has never lied to me.

He’s never deceived me.

He’s never tried to trick me.

He’s never made fun of me.

He’s never hit me or pinched me or bit me or punched me.

What post is complete without a sweet picture of Jackson? 😉

He, being new to this world, has a new, unblemished slate. I look at him and my whole heart feels as if it could burst from the joy and happiness he brings me. The love I have for him is so deep. The love I have for him is so freeing. But, it also has not been tarnished by hurt or pain. And even when it does eventually get hurt, my love for him will not leave.

Now, adults, whew, I have a hard time loving…I mean fully loving. I can like. I can “love.” But, even with a clean slate, there is always a wall up. A sweet, little 2-month baby doesn’t have the capability to lie to me (because he can’t talk). He can’t deceive me or make fun of me. There is innocence. Adults don’t have the innocence of a child. They have the ability to lie. They are hurtful. They can be cruel and mean. They are selfish, like I am.

And another for good measure, because he’s just so gosh-darn cute!

And, by me fully loving without reservation, I am putting myself out on a limb. There is serious risk involved. My heart is involved, and my heart is fragile. And it’s been hurt before.

But.

How different would my life look if I did truly love? If I loved with a risky, limb-climbing love? Loved with the love I have for my own child? A deep, innocent, nonjudgemental love? What if I loved my husband as 1 Corinthians 13 tells me to love – without thought of a past mistake, without selfishness? What if I loved my friends without regard to their imperfection? What if I loved my parents as though they hadn’t hurt me in the past? My siblings like they had done no wrong?

I think that kind of love could change the world. And, I think, starting today, I am going to try it. Going to put myself out on a limb and take the risk. Because people are worth it. And love is worth it. And the joy I feel from loving my son with that kind of love is such an amazing feeling. It’s so freeing!

I mean, c’mon, the best example of love gave His life for loves sake. He so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son (…that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life…I know you know the verse by heart…). He gave his life for people who hurt him way more brutally than anyone has ever hurt me. The least, the bare minimum, I can do is love.

Who is it you love without boundaries, without a guard up, or have you not experienced this love yet? Who and how can you love better today? Who can you love with a risky, limb-climbing love?

Okay, last one, I promise…well at least for this post…

Sleep. Something I have come to love in my 25 years of life. Something I have lost in the last 2 months of my baby’s life and miss dearly.

One of the main questions people ask me when they find out I have a two month old…”how is he sleeping?”

I think back to the night before and answer accordingly: “Normally he is a pretty good sleeper, but last night was rough,” “Great! He slept for 7 hours straight!!!” “He slept for 5 hours straight, then was up for every two hours…” So on and so forth.

About two weeks into Jackson’s life, I made an investment…a $20 investment…

a magical noise machine. (Okay, so it’s not really magical, but its effect is magical!)

Best $20 we have ever spent. He can be crying until his face turns blue and the second you turn on the white noise we have a peaceful baby. It’s almost freaky how well it works.

At church, I was telling someone about our magical noise machine and immediately Psalm 23 popped into my head…”The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul…”

Most days, I am exactly like Jackson… Crying till my face turns blue. Anxious. Unsettled. Chaotic. Unsure of the future. (And, like Jackson, it’s usually when I’m hungry…or hangry as my husband calls it)

In a moment, I am beside the quiet, still waters of his Word, and I find peace. It’s magical…or mystical…whatever word you prefer. He restores my soul.

I spend so much time in the “valley of the shadow of death,” but I spend my time there fearing evil because I forget that God is with me and I forget that I can turn to Him and I will find peace by the calm stream of His Word.

Like the wiseman in Psalm 1, when I delight in the law of the Lord and meditate on it day and night, I will be like a tree planted by streams of water, who produces fruit in season, and whose leaf does not wither. That is soul restoring. That is peace.

Lord, please help me to delight myself in your word, to meditate on it day and night. To walk, or crawl if I need to, to the quiet streams of your word that bring peace. Please give me peace like that of my son, who can sleep in the midst of any chaos or noise (mostly). Help me to stay grounded in you.

Jackson and Olivia hanging out at my birthday dinner last night.

And, just like that, another birthday has come and gone.

Boy, does time fly, or what?!

I had always heard that phrase growing up, but until you are married with a baby, I don’t think you understand quite fully the gravity of that statement. Two hours feels like two minutes. One month feels like one week.

Throughout this year, I have learned so much…and thats only the tip of the iceberg.

I have learned (some of what it means) to be a wife:

Marriage is not always easy. But it’s not quite as difficult as I thought it was going to be either. I heard the first year was full on screaming matches and brawls. So far, none of that. And I’m thankful. Though, we have had some very intense conversations about very serious topics, God is walking us through each and every obstacle, and I’m thankful. I love my best friend!

Difficult things in this life are not supposed to be walked through alone. Thankfully Eric and I haven’t had to do that. We have had major help in our marriage by some great people: our parents, our pastors, friends, family, etc. The biggest help was God. Once I became pregnant, I realized (once again) the importance of seeking God first. I knew diving into the Bible daily was important if I wanted to seek any peace and joy in my life and in my marriage. He has done just that.

I couldn’t imagine walking through this life with someone different. Eric is so special to me. He understands me and gets me. He is hilarious, loving, and caring. He is passionate and hardworking! One of my favorite country songs right now is “Shotgun Rider” by Tim McGraw; it says, “I don’t ever wanna wake up, looking into someone else’s eyes | another voice calling me baby on the other end of the phone | a new girl putting on her makeup before dinner on Friday night | I don’t ever wanna know-ohhhh, no other shotgun rider beside me singing to the radio-ohhhhh.” Every time that song comes on the radio, I can help but think of how grateful I am for Eric and walking through this life with me. I couldn’t do it without him.

I have learned (some of what it means) to be a mother:

I grew up with a pretty great mom and pretty great parents. But with anything, you always think, “I could do that better…” Then you become a parent and you realize all that your parents went through to raise you and all that they sacrificed, and you take back that statement.

Parenting is hard and parenting takes sacrifice…and I’m only two months into it (minus one week). The amount of sleep lost since Jackson’s birth currently is probably a total of all the sleep I’ve lost in my lifetime. And it only continues. And it is all worth it! Seeing him learn and grow and develop; Seeing him smile and interact. Watching as his eyes follow you across the room and his arms and legs flail up and down in excitement. When he is crying at the top of his lungs and the minute you pick him up, he is calm. Him snuggling on your chest and falling asleep (what he is doing as I type). The reward for being a mom is amazing…and I am sure it only gets better! Imagine when he can talk?! 😉

I have learned (some of what it means) to be an employee:

I spent time at my job (until November) being an employee working under bosses. I worked alongside of my peers. I developed new systems and organized different things. I answered phones and interacted with people coming into the office. In the grand scheme of things, none of that matters, but what matters was consistency and faithfulness to a job, submitting to leadership, and showing love to others. The tasks in and of themselves did not matter, but what matters was what that produced in me. I am so thankful for Seabreeze Church and the job opportunity I had there learning and growing. I do miss working and spending time with my coworkers, but I love being a mom even more!

I have learned (some of what it means) to be a church member:

I can’t tell you how much of an impact that Seabreeze Church has had on my life. Most of my friends that I currently have somehow stemmed from that church. My marriage has Seabreeze to thank. And so does my baby. Without Seabreeze, I would have never met Eric, and I would not have Jackson. I couldn’t imagine living a different life than the one I am now.

Though, I don’t always agree on decisions the church makes, and I don’t get along with everyone always, it is a family. And just like in a family, you stay together and you work through problems and issues and you become stronger. Without the church, I would be so lost. No one to guide me in raising my baby, in strengthening my marriage. No one to teach me about God and guide me in learning more about Him. No moms to hang out with and spend time with who share my goals and desires for my baby. The measure of church really is priceless.

~~~

Wow, 25.

Not sure how I got here, but I am thankful nonetheless. A quarter of a century filled with family, friends, learning and growing, hard times and great times, a new baby, my marriage, a college degree, new jobs…all within the first 25 years of my life. Thankful doesn’t even come close to explaining how I feel.

Thanks everyone for being apart of my life. For being my friends and investing your time into my life. For taking part in the joys of my life. For walking beside me in the difficult times, crying with me. For challenging me and confronting me when I have things that need to change. For sharing wisdom with me and teaching me. For being who you are to me, whoever you are. For leading me to Christ. For pushing me to be more like him. Thanks.

Jackson is 7 weeks today… Can’t even believe it! Enjoy this (extremely long) part II post of Jackson Charles’ Grand Entrance…

Most people have only one “leaving the hospital” experience after their baby is born…I had two.

My expectations that I had going into my labor and delivery that I mentioned in Part I definitely did not have this included in it. All 24 hours after Jackson’s birth, I was dreaming of being in my own bed to sleep, to take a shower in my own shower, to eat my own food, and to not be disturbed every two hours to take vitals.

Welp, God had a different plan.

On Wednesday, February 4th, the day we are to be released to go home, I started to get extreme chills. I remember asking for extra blankets in the hospital bed and still shaking like a leaf. The night before, while sleeping, I remember waking up extremely sweaty. That should have been a clue to me that something was not right with my body, but I think I just assumed that with all the trauma my body just went through and the crazy amount of hormones surging through my body, that the chills and sweats were normal. Come to find out, that was not the case.

We pack up everything. I change Jackson into his “going home” outfit. I take a shower and trade my hospital gown with real clothes and try to figure out how to get dressed with the crazy new “underwear” and mass amount of pads they give you to wear (which are completely necessary after the trauma you just went through). Eric takes down all of our bags and things and pulls the car up.

We get all of our paperwork in order, and they wheel me down to the car with Jackson in my arms. Please note the swollen, waterlogged face… so glad that is gone!!

Disclaimer: I wrote the beginning of this post back when Jackson was just a week old. He is now 6 weeks old. Mommyhood pushes things back a little bit… 🙂 I am now finishing this post with a 6 week old baby laying on me…enjoy!

“Children are not distraction from more important work. They are the most important work.” – C. S. Lewis

We’re a week and two days into our new life with a child. What an experience! The love I feel for this little eight pound six ounce creature is overwhelming. To put it into words would be impossible. He is such a sweet, calm baby – we are so blessed.

As with all things in life, I had so many expectations for my labor and delivery. I tried my best to have none, but in the back of my head, they were there.

One of my expectations was to have a spontaneous labor and to go into labor when I was 4 or 5 cm dilated. And, I thought that is what we were doing when we went into the hospital.

The morning we went into the hospital, I was at HR Block taking care of our taxes. During the appointment, I kept having back pain. I then realized that I was having back pain every 5 minutes. I started keeping track. After the appointment, I called Eric and had him come home. We went on a walk to the beach and back, and the contractions continued. We called the hospital and told them we were on our way.

At the hospital, ready to get the party started!

Last preggo picture!

We get to the hospital and get put on the monitors to see how Jackson’s heart rate was and the closeness of my contractions. As they were watching Jackson’s heart rate, it was spiking high and dropping low – from what I understand is signs of a placenta that is getting to the end of its life. They decided because of that to admit me and keep watch on baby Jackson.

Obviously, pre-labor… 🙂

We got to our room and the midwife came in. She explained the possible seriousness of the situation and our options. At the time, the way she said the options and my 40 week preggo brain, they didn’t sound like options. She explained that they were going to insert a foley catheter since I was only 1.5 cm dilated and since my contractions let up and were about 8 minutes apart. This should, if my body was ready for labor, push me to 3-4cm and get the contractions started. I had the catheter inserted and then went on a walk. Sure enough, it did what it was supposed to do. I started having regular contractions.

I began using my breathing techniques that we learned in our birthing and labor class. It was wonderful! So far, labor was a cinch! Deep cleansing breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth…. he-he-he-hoo…he-he-he-hooo… so on and so forth!

I feel like at this point I should return back to my expectations I had going into labor. I expected to have a spontaneous labor…If you can look at the previously written paragraphs, I did not have a spontaneous labor. The reason I wanted this was because in our L&D class, we learned that the more medical interventions you get, the more likely you are to getting a c-section. AND, in my previous four doctors appointments, our doctor kept telling us that with a big baby, you are more likely to have a c-section because the baby could get “stuck.” The more and more we talked to our teacher from our class, she reassured us that with less interventions, the more likely we were to avoid a c-section. The moment you start adding interventions to the picture is the moment you inevitably risk having to surgically remove your baby. Which means: no induction, no pain medicine, no epidural, etc).

SO, this was my mindset while heading to the hospital. Once Jackson’s heart rate was being wacko, it sounded like induction was the only option.

7 o’clock – the changing of the guar…I mean doctors/midwives/nurses…THANK GOD!

Honestly, I look back at my birthing experience and I thank God. He totally provided for me in my moment of need. I am convinced I would have ended up with a c-section if it wasn’t for my nurse and midwife that ended up delivering me.

My new Midwife, Krista Bolton, and new nurse, Sarah (I don’t remember her last name, but of course remember her first name), saved my experience. They knew what I wanted in my labor and delivery. They knew that the way things were happening currently were not what I wanted. The midwife came in and explained to me that I wasn’t in labor yet until I was 6-7cm dilated and that when I came into the hospital I wasn’t in labor…WHAT?! This was not explained to me… She also said (which the realist in me appreciated this so much) that with the catheter, I could be in the hospital for 3 days waiting for it to work, or I could deliver that night…it all depends on if my body was ready for labor.

I immediately began crying because until that moment, I had no idea. The previous doctor and midwife did not explain this to me… They did not tell me I wasn’t in labor. If that was the case, I would have gone home. I asked Krista what would happen if I took the catheter out and went home and let labor take its course at home… Everyone in the room laughed, but I was dead serious. I think her term was that it went against “medical advice.” I decided that I would stay, but spent the next few minutes crying while everyone in the room tried to encourage me.

I think that was the moment my mom and dad started praying because I became calm and the contractions began to get more and more intense. I moved around the room trying to find comfortable positions. Eric and I went on some walks around the hospital.

My amazing coach keeping me hydrated

When I got back, we decided to go into the shower. I spent a total of two hours in there, on the floor while my mom sat on the toilet since there was no chair, counting contractions for me… I would literally fall asleep in between contractions. Totally gave me the energy I needed to get through the night. Time, at that point, disappeared. An hour felt like 10 minutes.

I got out of the shower at about 9pm, and they checked me. I was 6cm!!!! I cried tears of joy… I was officially in labor. This wasn’t going to be a three day process! Thank you, God!

Breathing through contractions on the bathroom floor.

The contractions were intense! Oh. My. Goodness. I remember, in the moment, thinking that I couldn’t take any more. I don’t think I ever said it out loud, but I definitely thought it. I breathed through each one just like I had learned in my class…focused on a spot somewhere across the room and listened to Eric count down the contractions…”45 seconds….you’re doing great…30 seconds…half way there… 15 seconds…you’re almost there… and breathhhh” What would I have done without those breathing techniques. Totally saved my life!

At some point in the middle of the night, the midwife came back in and checked me and I was 8cm. At that point, they decided to break my water. I remember her saying that I could have whatever pain medication I wanted. I heard it, but I ignored it. I didn’t even want to give myself the option. I knew I could do it and I knew I was only a few contractions, at that point, away from pushing. Then I was only a few pushes away from seeing my sweet boy.

Because I am an avid runner (sarcasm), I thought of it like running. Keep setting new goals for yourself as you run…. I am going to make it to that pole then I’ll stop. Get to the pole and set a new goal…I am going to make it to that tree, to that light, to that sign, etc. etc. etc. then I’ll stop.

I did the same thing in labor. I am going to make it to the next contraction then I’ll reevaluate if I want meds or not. After every one, I said that same thing.

So, once she broke my water, the flood gates opened up (pun intended). The transition stage pretty much began immediately. And, oh man, did I think I was going to die. I could not have made it through that without my nurse and without Eric. I was definitely in a trance-like-state, as our L&D teacher described it. I would focus on a spot across the room and do my breathing techniques….hee-hee-hee-hee-hoo… The problem with transition, though, is that you don’t get a break like you do in the other contractions. It is one intense contraction after the other. At some point, I forgot how to breath. This is where Eric was so crucial. He literally had his forehead pressed up against mine and would do the breathing with me…”hee-hee-hee-hoo-hee-hee-hee-hoo-hee-hee-hee-hoo.” At some point, I was hyperventilating… the nurse, Sarah, put the oxygen mask over my face. My fingers, that were tingly and cramping, finally started to feel normal again. I could see the end in sight.

My amazing coach…

They checked me again at some point and I was 10cm and ready to push. I had wanted to push squatting, but because Jackson was determined to be a nine or ten pound baby, the midwife was afraid of dropping him. So, they said very sternly that I needed to lay down. I was pretty upset about that because I knew that my body was going against gravity, but at that point, I wasn’t arguing…I wanted my baby out, and I trusted Krista and Sarah to accomplish that safely!

I began pushing. They put the mirror up so I could see. As I was pushing, at one point Krista said that we could see his head. She pointed it out to me and asked if I wanted to touch him. I touched his sweet head, which was full of hair!! It gave me the gusto to continue to push and push even harder! Sarah, my wonderful nurse, said at one point inbetween contractions, “if the shoulders aren’t stuck and we can get him out safely, do you want to pull him out?” Um, YES! How cool would that be!

My pushing face… lol

I pushed and pushed and pushed…for an hour and a half…. at one point I remember saying, why can’t the contractions come sooner – Everyone laughed because at that point they were coming every minute and a half. I am telling you, time has no meaning in labor. You lose all understanding of time. Ten minutes is one, and one minute is one second….and the other way, one minute is five and five is an hour. It is hard to understand until you are going through it.

The pain, at this point, was so intense, but at the same time, I knew that with every push and every pain, I was one step closer to seeing my baby. I took all advice the midwife had to give me. She told me to push longer and to not give up. I pushed longer and that is when I started to progress. Finally, his head was out. He was crying such a sweet pterodactl cry that he still has…she told me to not push. I did the candle breathing technique…Apparently at this point, the cord was wrapped around his neck. She unwrapped it. I am glad I didn’t know that at the time – I would have freaked out!! I then could continue pushing. His shoulders came out and I got the go ahead from Krista. I reached down and pulled my baby up onto my chest and cried… tears of joy, tears of relief, tears of thankfulness to God.

He immediately stopped crying once he got to my chest! He was beautiful. He had a head full of blond hair, sweet blue eyes that were the most alert, chubby little face, and such a perfect body.

8lbs 6oz, 21.25 inches long, born at 6:54am on 2/3/2015.

The story continues after I ended up back in the hospital with a 103° fever, but I will save that for a different time…Stay tuned!

…To Be Continued…

I am one month, 2 days and 7 hours into motherhood while writing this…

And let me tell you, I already feel like a “seasoned” mother.

In the last 24 hours, I have been peed on, spit up on, had pee spray on the wall during a diaper change, changed a “blowout”, stayed up into the wee hours of the night with a crying baby, picked baby boogers, walked with other moms, went to a mom group, tried to sooth an inconsolable baby, tried to eat while feeding and spilled tomato sauce on my son’s face, etc. etc. etc. The list can go on and on.

Motherhood takes over your life…

When being admitted to the hospital, they ask you, “how is having this baby going to change your life?” I thought it was a stupid question. I responded with “completely.”

I don’t think I understood the magnitude of ‘completely.’ My life is FOREVER changed by this little man…every second of my life is changed by this little man.

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change,” James 1:17, ESV.


Photography by the wonderful Bekah Sonke Creative 

I am one of the most distracted people in this world.

No, really, it’s true.

When cleaning my house, I will start cleaning the kitchen. I find something that belongs in the bathroom, so I go to the bathroom to put that item away. Once in the bathroom, I realize the sink is a disaster. I clean the sink. I then return to the kitchen to get a drink of water. While getting the Brita out of the fridge, I realize the shelves have something sticky on them. I then clean the shelves altogether forgetting that I came to get a drink of water. I move on to the exterior of the fridge and clean the doors. I am now stepping in crumbs so I get the broom and sweep the floor.

This process repeats itself over and over again. Don’t believe me? Ask my husband. He laughs at me because he is fully aware of what is going on, but I have no clue. I’ve been working for hours and hours and have little to show for it because I have accomplished these little tasks and when I could have had the bathroom spotless.

….And, I still never got my drink of water….

~~~

I was reading in Psalms yesterday and this pattern in my life reminded me of what I was reading.

Anyone ever read the Old Testament and followed the stories of the Israelites? Well, they have a tendency to start following God, then to quickly forget that he is around and move on to their next distraction. Once they made a bronze calf and worshiped it. Another time they complained to God of their food options so God sent Mana from HEAVEN and quail for them to eat…. he sent it from heaven….that is amazing! But, in their normal behavior, eventually didn’t trust God in his provision.

If you want a quick synopsis of the old testament, read Psalm 78 (click here).

This verse sums up the Israelites to me: “In spite of all this, they still sinned; despite his wonders, they did not believe,” (Psalm 78:32 ESV).

Yet, regardless of these things, God, at the end of Psalm 78, as an act of his loving-kindness and grace, sent David to shepherd the people of Israel and direct them to a better path: “With upright heart he shepherded them and guided them with his skillful hand,” (Psalm 78:72 ESV).

~~~

I see this in my life constantly.

Firstly, in my cleaning, he sent me Eric to keep me on task 🙂 and make sure I stick to the one room I started working on. Joking aside, secondly, I am so easily distracted in my life. Things get in the way: Worries of life, stress, busyness, friendship/relationship issues, etc. I am walking down a path trusting God and then – boom – something enters the path and pushes me off course. Then, by God’s grace, he uses something to redirect me. Those things are usually either the Bible, my husband, my church (and those I’m in community with), a song, etc.

God is so gracious. How many times have I promised him (just like Peter) that I would trust him and not deny him, yet I continue to do so just like the Israelites? He provides Mana from heaven, and two minutes later I am complaining about it or storing it up for myself because I am afraid he will not provide tomorrow. Stupidity.

In light of the New Year tomorrow (2015, can you believe it?!) I am choosing once again to commit to following Christ. To accepting the freedom he has already given me and not falling into the same sins that he delivered me from. To trusting in his goodness despite my circumstances. To learning about him more and more daily as I read his word and talk with him. To community and growing deeper and deeper in relationship with those in my church while I serve God, my church, and my community. To teaching my baby (coming oh so soon!!!) about God and his goodness and faithfulness. To growing in my relationship with my husband and learning and growing in our faith in God together. To so many things!! Welcome, 2015….I’m ready for you!!

~~~

God, thank you so much for the grace you lavish on me… From the time I accepted your gift of salvation for my sins taking on the debt that I could not, to now, walking and following you despite the many distractions of life that I so often allow to get me off course. Thank you for guiding me, and thank you for providing for me. I trust in you. Help me to remember your goodness in the darkest of nights and the lightest of days. You are all-sufficient.

~~~

To Be Continued…

Have you ever had your heart drop? Yesterday, my heart dropped twice. Not the, “Boo! I got scared!” type of heart-dropping. But the, “oh no, what have I done? How did I do that? Who have I hurt?” type of heart drop.

This has only happened a few times growing up. Silly enough, all of my heart-dropping situations have occurred via text messaging, emails, Facebook messages, etc. Two of those times were in college. I had been upsetting someone for the whole school year, but I did not hear about it until finals week before summer vacation. I found out through a round of upsetting text messages. We are friends now, but at the time, I was crushed and really quite worried that she’d never speak to me again. The issue was cleared up, and I am grateful.

Another time was when someone became upset because they thought I had “copied” their engagement ring. I received a message via Facebook and a prompt unfriending (still trying to figure that one out since I did not pick out my ring and my husband did and does not even know the person…). Needless to say, that is still not resolved and I still scratch my head wondering if there was something else that prompted her to be upset.

Yesterday, I received one of those heart dropping text messages. It was anonymous (because I didn’t have their phone number).

To give background, I posted a video with my thoughts about it. It did not come out very clear. A friend was kind enough to bring it to my attention. I removed the posting from Facebook and wrote a status of apology for not communicating clearly and for any hurt that was caused. And I attempted to clarify what I was trying to say.

Late last night, before Eric and I were to head into a meeting, I received a text message. In this instance, the person told me that there is no compassion in my heart, that they had blocked me, and that they were scared of me. I do not have this person’s phone number and when I tried to ask them what exactly they were referring to or who they were, they did not respond. When I asked to meet in person and discuss the matter, again, no response.

Now, I am not telling you this to gossip or to vent – I don’t even know who the person is and I have done my fair share of tears and venting to my husband – but I write this to give you a set up for what my day was like yesterday and how I woke up this morning. I fell asleep thinking about what had happened. I dreamt about what had happened. I cried. I woke up and that feeling would not go away. My post was to show support to people I love and care about, not hurt them. But, thats what happened. I do not know if I was right or wrong in God’s eyes or even in human standards, but I definitely felt bad for what I had caused people: pain and confusion.

This morning, as I was laying in bed trying to will my body to move, I could not wait to read the Word. I kept thinking about the grace Jesus had lavished on me. He was mocked, beaten, bruised, and crushed for things he did not do. He did not even get a chance to proclaim his innocence. Nor did he really try because he knew his goal. He knew Judas was going to betray him, yet he loved him anyways…deeply.

Today, I was set to read 3 John. I open it and verse 11 said:

“Beloved, do not imitate evil but imitate good. Whoever does good is from God; whoever does evil has not seen God.” 

I opened to Psalm 66:16-20:

“Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell you what he has done for my soul. I cried to him with my mouth, and high praise was on my tongue. If I had cherished iniquity in my heart, the Lord would not have listened. But truly God has listened; he has attended to the voice of my prayer. Blessed be God, because he has not rejected my prayer, or removed his steadfast love from me.”

Both of these verses calmed and reassured my soul in different ways. I need to imitate good – which is Jesus. Regardless, if I was right or wrong, I need to love everyone. I need to love the person who questioned my compassion and did not give me a chance to defend myself. Jesus had no chance to proclaim his perfect innocence. I could find several ways in which I was wrong yesterday so even if I had the chance to defend myself, I would still be guilty of something. Love. I need to not harbor bitter feelings toward that person and love them like Jesus loved the people who were falsely accusing him and who beat him and killed him.

Then in Psalm 66…God has not rejected my prayer. He has not removed his steadfast love from me. Even though I sin on the daily, he is there to pick me back up and rescue me. He’s there to redeem my soul. He’s there to bring me back to him. He is there to love those who I did not love well. I am so grateful that grace of God is just that, grace. It is undeserving. I do not deserve it. That makes mornings like this morning turn around in an instant.

Of course I wish to reconcile that relationship that has been broken. I really wish I knew who they were so I could even speak to them about it. I am thankful that I do not need their forgiveness, though, because the savior has given me forgiveness a billion times over. Even if I never get the opportunity to reconcile with them, Jesus has already reconciled for me and that is reassuring and brings me peace.

Now…if I could only remember to think about the grace he has given me immediately when something arrises, I think things would be much better in my life. Instead, I let the issues of yesterday ruin my evening, my sleep last night, and my morning.

Thank you Jesus for hearing my cry and your STEADFAST love! Thank you for your word to remind me of TRUTH. Thank you for your victory over sin and death so that one day I can live with you pain-free. Soon and very soon!

To be continued…