-I find the easiest way for me to pray is to be "real" with God. I don't use big words, or fancy Biblical terms- just me and God, one-on-one like bff's. ;)
-Before Junior was created, I spent a lot of time in prayer. Praying for a blessing in my belly. One thing I repeatedly told God was that I promised to return my baby to him immediately. If He would bless me with a child, I would raise that child in His name.
-While "TTC" a girlfriend of mine sent me a poem that was dear to her mother's heart. I can't remember the name of the poem, the author, or any specific quotes- but the idea stuck with me. The poem talked about how our children are in fact not really OUR children. They are God's children. We were blessed to conceive them, to carry them, and to raise them- but we must give them back, as they do not belong to us. Big stuff. At first, I thought "Man, that's gotta be hard for a pregnant woman or a new mother, or a mother of young children to read." The poem touched me and was kinda like a "poetic version" of my prayer that I had said so many times. "I promise to give this baby back to you."
-Now that I'm pregnant (AND GONNA BE A MOM IN 5 DAAAAAAAYYYYS, AAAHHH!!!!) I understand that I'm only Junior's Earthly mother- not even his creator, because without God he would never exist. For the last 9 months I have prayed and prayed and prayed for Junior. For his health, for him to be a boy (yes, I'm ashamed...), for him to turn, for a speedy/healthy birth, etc., etc. I haven't prayed much for the time after his birth, and I'm realizing now I need to FALL ON MY KNEES! (Not really in the literal sense, as it would take me a while to get back up!)
-I'd like to "blog" this prayer, make it public.
Dear Heavenly Father,
I woke up this morning to a strong, healthy, wiggly baby in my belly. You are great! I rolled over, put my arm around Reesh and smiled. You are great! I thought of my (poor) mom sleeping on the couch who You sent safely to me to be here for me during this huge time in my life. You are great! Then I almost broke my back trying to get out of the bed to pee and thought...You are funny! :) I'm sorry for falling asleep on you again last night- I'm really thinking I should get an earlier start with the whole prayer thing- but I know you understand. Lord, I am so thankful to have my mother here. And after my morning yesterday, she couldn't have come at a better time- you planned it like that, didn't you?
Lord, I want to lift Junior up to you this morning. I know that Reesh and I (and our families) have been blessed with this little angel, and like I've said before, I promise to do everything I can to raise him in your name. But I need some help along the way, because I know I'm not perfect and I'm still trying to grow, myself. Lord, I pray that Junior will know nothing but love from us. I pray for patience, acceptance, and guidance for each member of our growing family. I pray that we are kind and caring to each other, and when we're not- because there will be times, God please help to remind us how special and important we all are to each other. Lord, I pray that you and Reesh together will be a team that will be the manly role-model in Junior's life. Let him follow you two. Thank you, God, for giving Junior such an awesome Daddy. I know that Reesh will be kind and loving. He'll teach to hold doors, pull out chairs, and hang coats. He'll teach to ride a bike, hang a light, and love a woman. But, Lord, help him too as he also needs your guidance to be able to guide his children. I pray that Junior is a strong boy that will grow into a strong man, but a gentle one. A feisty little boy with grass stains on his knees who grows up to be a boo-boo kissing daddy. I pray that he is smart and funny, witty and sociable. I pray he knows little heartache in his life, but I also know a little bit will only make him stronger and seek you more. When he is ready and I have done my job right, I know he will dedicate himself to you, God. I just pray that you light that path for him and hold his hand the whole way. Lord, I ask you to keep our marriage strong and healthy and may we be good examples to our children. Help us to hold a strong bond that we'll need to raise a happy family- and let our children be aware of this. Lord, I pray there is never any doubt from a stranger that we as a family are living and learning through you. I ask that you wrap your arms around our family and keep us safe and healthy, happy and grateful. I pray, as a mom, that when things get tough or scary I am reminded not to seek the advice of friends, neighbors, or crazy people on facebook, but to consult you and have comfort in knowing I will be led to do what's right for my family. Above all else, I pray, God, that you help me do a good enough job that when I send Junior off into the world, he remembers, not necessarily to put the toilet seat down or to separate whites from colors, but how to love and live through you.
Amen.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Murphy at his finest.
"Anything that can go wrong will go wrong." - Murphy's Law
-Yesterday morning. I was blogging about how at-ease I was feeling with our current situation. Peaceful, calm. Calm....before the storm, that is.
-In the mean time, the third person in two years was coming over to look at our Mustang we had for sale. Long story short: Reesh bought a Mustang in the States back in '05. He's been trying to sell it since Spring '10 and before yesterday only two people have ever come to look at it. He was trying to sell it through a dealership as well as online himself. Someone found it through the dealership and was pretty interested so last week they came and saw it, test drove it, and were supposed to make a decision by Monday. Monday evening we got the phone call that they went with another car. Of course they did! Within 15 minutes or so after hearing that, R gets an e-mail from someone who found it online and is offering cash for the car. This guy and his wife come by yesterday (while I'm in the shower, home alone, can't answer the door) to take a look at the car. Reesh got off work early to meet this couple and within 30 minutes had shown the car, test drove it with these folks, been to the bank with a wad of € 's, deposited it, and was on his way to the post office to put the car in their names. Ya know, when one door closes another opens. But damn, the door had been slammed shut and dead bolted and opened up so fast again it hit us in the face. As I'm walking out of the door to head to my p.t. appt (I walk there every time), Reesh is heading in the door soaking wet (there was a MONSOON while he was selling the car). We go to my appt. together and are a bit shell-shocked to say the least. He's happy he sold it, didn't expect it to go so quickly, the guy paid cash, what are we gonna do now...? After my appointment we decided to celebrate and go out for dinner. The place where we sometimes go is within walking distance, but as Murphy would have it yesterday they were closed. We have a Smart car in the garage. It's pink and black. It was supposed to be my car. I was also supposed to get my Dutch driver's license. Whatever. So the car just sits there, and every now and then we'll use it. Last year it had a bunch of "health problems" and we spent more trying to repair it then the damn car is worth. Ok, so obviously this car is a sore spot. So we were gonna take the Smart out to dinner last night. Oh but it won't start up! By now I'm just hysterical with laughter. The thoughts running through my head! Here I am, full-term today. The car is sold. The back-up car, which is a TWO SEATER P.O.S., won't even start and on a good day we're 20 minutes from the hospital. Back to the casa. We live in a flat. Third story. No elevator. I'm nine friggin' months pregnant. I just walked to and from a Dr.'s appt in a winter rain storm, then stood outside in it while BD tried to revive the Smart, and now I have to walk up 3 flights of stairs. And I'm hungry. Before long, Reesh is asking our permanently inebriated neighbor to help jump start the car, which by the good grace of God works, and then he drives around to charge it a bit. Picks me up (fat ass back down the s-t-a-i-r-s!) And off to dinner. Which wasn't even good, so I won't even write about it. I will say I didn't think pork was to be eaten pink-?!? Back home. BACK UP THE STAIRS. On the couch, laptop ready, car searching. Husband breaks out in a rash. Hands, arms, neck, waist. Seriously right this second????? Two hours of that shit and we finally go to bed. At this point, I'm not sure who tossed and turned the most, who jacked the blanket more times, and who got the worst sleep, but at 7 a.m. Reesh is calling-in at work. Now let me just say- I have known him for seven years. Not ONCE has he EVER called-in (even before I knew him.) He had oral surgery a few weeks ago and went right back to work. So when he said he wasn't going today because he "broke his neck" I knew it was serious. I think between the stress and crappy sleep he must have been all tensed up and got a major crick in his neck. He can barely move his eyes, and is layed up in the bed with 14 heating pads on his head.
PLEASE, PLEASE send a prayer up, meditate, bow towards the sun, send some good juju, rub a big belly- whatever it is you do- in our name that we may find a nice, reliable, affordable vehicle in the next.....few days. And that BD can move his head later today. And that I can hold on to my sanity.
Thank you! :)
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
T Minus Fifteen
It's currently 6:49 a.m. and I've been up for the past 3 hours being totally strange.
I woke up 'cause, duh, I had to pee. (btw, I imagine myself as a troll when this happens. Hunched over in pain, waddling with one eye open, the other clinched tight, one hand on my back, one on my belly and starring in my own grunting/groaning symphony. A pair of granny-panties in a half-wedgie and a tank top that once fit. It's a wonder Reesh can keep his hands off of me at all!)
Anyway, once back in the bed I realized that AGAIN I fell asleep during my prayers. This happens everyday. I have part 1 prayer time at night. Fall asleep. And part 2 prayer time comes usually in the shower, or right before nap time when I remember I fell asleep on God. Good thing He's understanding. ;) Anyway, there's for sure enough to be praying about these days so I figured while I was awake I'd finish up my talk. Well, that took me an hour! And at the end it usually goes something like, "Alright. I feel my eyes getting heavy again- you know what this means. So, for everyone and everything I forgot to mention or am too tired to remember, you can read my heart better than you can hear my voice- so....I consider it all prayed for. Amen." He, after all, did manufacture this crazy mind of mine so I just figure He understands when I get loopy in prayer. So after an hour of praying, I felt myself getting sleepy again. (As I do now) I closed my eyes. And dang it if my phone didn't betray me with a @#$%&^ing Facebook notification. Well, my goodness...I couldn't IGNORE it. It's FACEBOOK! It's like CNN!!! It's like the Pringles logo- "Once you pop, you just can't stop." So now I'm on Facebook- on my phone- in the bed. It's about 5 a.m. now. The phone is irritating me and I get a better idea to move to the couch and get on the laptop. How is it that within 7 minutes I'm juggling 3 private message convos, commenting on someone's vacation pics, and carryin' on with my mom on her wall? There's God- shakin' His head at me again. Now Reesh is awake and getting ready for work and I feel like I may crawl back into bed (it's mine, ALL MINE!!!!) and finish this blog-business later. We'll see...
So, I want to blog about my upcoming birthing experience today. Just want to put it all out there, say how I'm feeling.
Fifteen days.
Fifteen (loooong) more days until I get to meet Prince Charming #2. Lil' P.C. Ok, I'll stop with the nicknames- he already picked up 2 more last week.
Also, last week we confirmed our Cesarean section date for the 18th of January.
Here's the deal:
Ol' Gator Chittlin' is still breech. On top of being breech, he's big. Like Sumo big, I'm assuming. Those weren't the Dr.'s words, but....I saw the look on the u.s. tech's face. What she did say was that his position was very unfavorable to him turning on his own or being successfully turned after an external version. I was left with three options, basically. To go ahead and try the version, give vaginal birth to a folded-in-half breech Sumo baby, or to have the dreaded c-section. They've recommended acupuncture, as well. Supposed to help turn the baby-?! I've read up on the whole version thing and, quite frankly, it ain't my cup o' tea. It's a bit too risky for me, painful, etc. I believe that babies are creations of God, and it's Him that guides them through 9 months (or however long) of fetal development and serves as their coach. How else do they just know to turn when they're supposed to? And the ones who don't turn? There's GOT to be a reason! They could be tangled in their cord, have it wrapped around their poor neck, the mother's pelvis could be too narrow (or broke like in my situation), the baby's head could be so large that after hours of labor they're forced into this world by emergency c-section. I mean, who knows? I just think that there's always a reason and if I allow someone to try and alter this situation manually, it could end up wrong. So, no to the needles in my pinky toe, and no to twisting my baby's head off his neck in an attempt to turn him around. I believe strongly in the human's intuition- our gut feelings. When you don't listen to that inner voice, something inadvertently always goes wrong. This is too precious of a situation for me not to listen to that feeling, and I feel so strongly against having the version done. (Maybe I'm writing this to convince myself I'm doing the right thing...) The vaginal birthing option. Uh, no. How is that even a suggestion? I could see myself birthing a leg and then being sent for an emergency c-section. What's the point?
So, as one Dr. put it, I am having an "elective Cesarean section." I was writing a girlfriend today about it (while I was Facebook multitasking) and here's what I told her (plus a bit more); Ya know, for some strange reason...I feel "okok with it all. No, not jumping for joy- but I feel like my calmness is just God telling me, "It's ok...let go, I've got ya, you big ol' spazmonkey." Seriously, I can let clumpy mascara ruin my week, yet I am totally at peace with having a c-section. Almost like this was meant to be part of my birth story. And in the end, no matter how this baby comes out- if I have to snort him out of my nose, it'll be MY birth story. And it'll be perfect. Eat that, Doctor Unibrow!
My mom will be here next week and I'm very excited to have her here! We'll get to hang out for a week before D-day! This is definitely one of those times I just....need my mom. She won't be allowed in the O.R., but I know she'll be down the hallway the whole time. Funny how in my "journey to become a mom" I've wanted my own mom a lot more often. It's hard to be so far away from family during times like these. I want to share everything with them and have them all be a part of it, but.....
I woke up 'cause, duh, I had to pee. (btw, I imagine myself as a troll when this happens. Hunched over in pain, waddling with one eye open, the other clinched tight, one hand on my back, one on my belly and starring in my own grunting/groaning symphony. A pair of granny-panties in a half-wedgie and a tank top that once fit. It's a wonder Reesh can keep his hands off of me at all!)
Anyway, once back in the bed I realized that AGAIN I fell asleep during my prayers. This happens everyday. I have part 1 prayer time at night. Fall asleep. And part 2 prayer time comes usually in the shower, or right before nap time when I remember I fell asleep on God. Good thing He's understanding. ;) Anyway, there's for sure enough to be praying about these days so I figured while I was awake I'd finish up my talk. Well, that took me an hour! And at the end it usually goes something like, "Alright. I feel my eyes getting heavy again- you know what this means. So, for everyone and everything I forgot to mention or am too tired to remember, you can read my heart better than you can hear my voice- so....I consider it all prayed for. Amen." He, after all, did manufacture this crazy mind of mine so I just figure He understands when I get loopy in prayer. So after an hour of praying, I felt myself getting sleepy again. (As I do now) I closed my eyes. And dang it if my phone didn't betray me with a @#$%&^ing Facebook notification. Well, my goodness...I couldn't IGNORE it. It's FACEBOOK! It's like CNN!!! It's like the Pringles logo- "Once you pop, you just can't stop." So now I'm on Facebook- on my phone- in the bed. It's about 5 a.m. now. The phone is irritating me and I get a better idea to move to the couch and get on the laptop. How is it that within 7 minutes I'm juggling 3 private message convos, commenting on someone's vacation pics, and carryin' on with my mom on her wall? There's God- shakin' His head at me again. Now Reesh is awake and getting ready for work and I feel like I may crawl back into bed (it's mine, ALL MINE!!!!) and finish this blog-business later. We'll see...
So, I want to blog about my upcoming birthing experience today. Just want to put it all out there, say how I'm feeling.
Fifteen days.
Fifteen (loooong) more days until I get to meet Prince Charming #2. Lil' P.C. Ok, I'll stop with the nicknames- he already picked up 2 more last week.
Also, last week we confirmed our Cesarean section date for the 18th of January.
Here's the deal:
Ol' Gator Chittlin' is still breech. On top of being breech, he's big. Like Sumo big, I'm assuming. Those weren't the Dr.'s words, but....I saw the look on the u.s. tech's face. What she did say was that his position was very unfavorable to him turning on his own or being successfully turned after an external version. I was left with three options, basically. To go ahead and try the version, give vaginal birth to a folded-in-half breech Sumo baby, or to have the dreaded c-section. They've recommended acupuncture, as well. Supposed to help turn the baby-?! I've read up on the whole version thing and, quite frankly, it ain't my cup o' tea. It's a bit too risky for me, painful, etc. I believe that babies are creations of God, and it's Him that guides them through 9 months (or however long) of fetal development and serves as their coach. How else do they just know to turn when they're supposed to? And the ones who don't turn? There's GOT to be a reason! They could be tangled in their cord, have it wrapped around their poor neck, the mother's pelvis could be too narrow (or broke like in my situation), the baby's head could be so large that after hours of labor they're forced into this world by emergency c-section. I mean, who knows? I just think that there's always a reason and if I allow someone to try and alter this situation manually, it could end up wrong. So, no to the needles in my pinky toe, and no to twisting my baby's head off his neck in an attempt to turn him around. I believe strongly in the human's intuition- our gut feelings. When you don't listen to that inner voice, something inadvertently always goes wrong. This is too precious of a situation for me not to listen to that feeling, and I feel so strongly against having the version done. (Maybe I'm writing this to convince myself I'm doing the right thing...) The vaginal birthing option. Uh, no. How is that even a suggestion? I could see myself birthing a leg and then being sent for an emergency c-section. What's the point?
So, as one Dr. put it, I am having an "elective Cesarean section." I was writing a girlfriend today about it (while I was Facebook multitasking) and here's what I told her (plus a bit more); Ya know, for some strange reason...I feel "okok with it all. No, not jumping for joy- but I feel like my calmness is just God telling me, "It's ok...let go, I've got ya, you big ol' spazmonkey." Seriously, I can let clumpy mascara ruin my week, yet I am totally at peace with having a c-section. Almost like this was meant to be part of my birth story. And in the end, no matter how this baby comes out- if I have to snort him out of my nose, it'll be MY birth story. And it'll be perfect. Eat that, Doctor Unibrow!
My mom will be here next week and I'm very excited to have her here! We'll get to hang out for a week before D-day! This is definitely one of those times I just....need my mom. She won't be allowed in the O.R., but I know she'll be down the hallway the whole time. Funny how in my "journey to become a mom" I've wanted my own mom a lot more often. It's hard to be so far away from family during times like these. I want to share everything with them and have them all be a part of it, but.....
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