Monday, June 27, 2011

I have a new thought for what hell might be like. I don't plan on ever being there, but for the descriptive purposes...
Hell is eternal pregnancy. Always pregnant and never having the baby. (And not the kind of pregnancy that causes those crazy blessed women to say "I love being pregnant!")

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

For some reason I tend to only write on this blog when I don't feel well. I guess it's because when I'm not sick, I feel guilty about sitting in front of the computer when there are so many other things that need to be done.

There's also the prego brain that means I have a hard time holding down a logical conversation, or remembering what I wanted to say for more than a minute at a time.

So for this update, I think I'll not even try to make a point, or be thoughtful or philosophical. I think I'll just write what's going on around here.

Baby Kelly seems to be doing well; she is very active and has already gone after my bladder and ribs with her feet. I feel her bumping around in there multiple times a day, so that provides some extra reassurance that she's fine even when I feel horrible. I feel huge, can't sit still for more than 15 minutes at a time, can't sit with my legs crossed or even together, can't really sit without being somewhat reclined or perched on the edge of a chair. Rolling over and getting up is also getting interesting. My back kills me, my front feels like it's going to explode, and that's without the food poisoning that seems to have set in recently. I find lower 70's hot, so how I'm going to make it through the summer I have no idea.

I'm definitely to the mental state of "holy cow, what have I done" when it comes to having a baby. I used to love seeing little babies... now I see them and get overwhelmed with the thought of "what am I going to do with something that small?" We get to meet our new niece this weekend, so we'll see how I do with a baby up close. Of course, having a major life event puts other things in perspectives, such as the bank account. When we came really close to over-drafting the checking account, I wasn't thrilled about it, but I didn't freak like I used to. If it happened, it happened, and we'd just move on. I am trying to spend less and cut out as much as possible. I keep reminding E that come October, he plans on spending lots of money on applications and we're going to be down to one income.

As for the rest of life... kids and money, what else is there? Oh yeah, I'm married... I think that now I'm making a visible effort to listen, things are much better. So when I have days where I really feel bad and get nothing done, it's not a sore point because I have been trying.

And I'm at my 15 minute sitting limit. =) Welcome to the random world of a pregnant brain.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

"Some people wait a lifetime"

I was sitting in my kitchen, surrounded by an abdominal pile of dirty dishes that I really did not feel like washing. Relatively miserable, with a sore throat, drippy nose, low-grade fever, and crampy belly from constipation... the dehydration as shown by my cracked hands and lips probably was not helping any either. I was pretty much feeling sorry for myself.

Then on the radio, Delilah (E cannot stand her, but I enjoy her show) received a call from a lady who was 11 weeks pregnant and had just seen her baby on ultrasound for the first time. And Delilah played the song "some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this."

As sappy as it is, it reminded me to enjoy the moment. I've had several people tell me to enjoy my pregnancy, that there will be days I'll look back and miss it. And I'm thinking, are you crazy? You must have been the woman who invented the "pregnancy glow" and the "I felt wonderful when I was pregnant" bull$#@! that I've heard and yet to experience. But at least one of those people I know had a difficult, morning-sickness-filled bed-rest-ridden pregnancy.

And it's true, some people do wait a lifetime and never get to experience the heartburn caused by a growing baby. Or the shortness of breath caused by a stretching uterus. Or the constipation caused by the hormones allowing the baby's life to continue. And they'd give anything to be able to have those problems.

So I poured myself another glass of water and forced myself to drink it, decided to give the dishwasher another try, and looked forward to another chance to hear the heartbeat tomorrow. Here's hoping for plenty more reminders to enjoy the moment!

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

I haven't updated in the last several months because I wasn't going to be able to be completely honest. But now that we've announced, I can finally put some thoughts down here.

Being a mommy is incredible. Seeing that dot for the first time was amazing, but a couple weeks ago when I finally saw my child's shape for the first time, watched him (default until we find out for sure, although "he" is my guess) wiggle his little arms and legs, and had the realization that the wiggling was happening right there, inside me... wow. Hearing the heart beat and letting it finally sink in that that little heart is beating inside of me. Thinking that as I lie in bed at night, the Maker of the entire universe is forming tiny kidneys, liver, brain cells, muscles, bones, teeth, fingernails... while I do nothing but sleep. While I go about my daily tasks of taking blood pressures and making referrals, this little body is growing and moving and forming.

And on one hand this puts the weight of the world on me. How am I going to support this child? Do I have the wisdom and patience to train and discipline? Do I have the energy and joy this child will require? On the other hand, I have never felt more helpless. It is less of a fear at this point, but there is still some concern for miscarriage, which I will probably have until the day I hold my child in my arms. And there is really nothing I can do about it. I can't put my hands around my growing belly and hold my child in place. I can't form his cells and DNA and keep a fatal mistake from happening. I can't form the placenta and position it correctly. I can try to eat the best I can, try to gain the proper weight, try to get adequate rest, but ultimately, the fate of my child is not in my control.

Nor will it ever be. I heard a song by Evanescence, and while I'm sure she was not thinking of a child when she sang it, that's what came to my mind. In conceiving a child, just like when you marry, you give your love to someone. And there's no guarantee it will remain. It could end too soon. It could end in tragedy or anger. You could become estranged and never speak again. You could be hurt deeper than you could ever have imagined. With every new love, a new world of possible hurt opens up. But I think anyone who's been there would say it's worth it.

Having a child also gives an entirely different perspective on healthcare than I could ever have had. Hearing the screams of a teenager in anguish over finding out she's pregnant, and knowing that child doesn't have a hope of being born healthy, if it even has a hope of being born at all since its mother wants to kill it before it even takes its first breath of air. Holding the hands of the child who's in for an evaluation of possible abuse. Carrying a tiny, malnourished child who doesn't have a home to go to that night, nor food to eat, but mom found the money for cigarettes and a six-pack. And then sitting back down at my desk, and looking at the picture of my baby. God forbid anyone ever dream that I would harm my child. Yes, it's somewhat unexpected, and definitely earlier than planned, but this child is loved. This child is wanted. This child will see in me, Lord willing and by His grace, a picture of unconditional love, self-sacrificial, willing to die. May he see in me something that will help him understand the care and love God has for him.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

How do I begin to put down my thoughts during this last month? How do I even begin to explain my thoughts at this moment?

I find myself listening to my self-compiled CD labeled "PHC Encouragement." I created it not long after I left PHC, choosing songs that had touched me somewhere along that roller-coaster ride. I organized it to lift me up, from the songs that would bring me to tears early on to the praise songs at the end.

When I pull out that CD, I can't help but think about what I've come through. And the challenges that then seemed so daunting now seem manageable. Well, some of them do. Some still affect me. Some I fear will affect me till the day I die.

His strength is perfect. But do I lean on that strength, or do I try to handle it on my own? What I see in myself now is someone who will "handle it." Deal with it. Make it work. Tolerate it. Survive. That's my mantra. Survival. But as my hubby pointed out recently, life isn't supposed to be lived as survival. It's supposed to be enjoyed. It's supposed to have happy moments. You're supposed to do better than survive.

Just give me Jesus and I'll be alright. Tears still come to my eyes when that simple song starts. The emotions associated with the first day I heard that song... the first day I truly knew the meaning of heartache. And the simple truth that carried me so many months... I know my tomorrows are safe in His hand...

If I could choose a song to be played at my deathbed, I'd choose this one.

Just give me Jesus, and I'll be alright
With Him I can make it, walking beside
I know my tomorrows are safe in His hands
Just give me Jesus; I know I can stand.

So many distractions seem to cloud my way.
All the cares of life surround me and lead my heart astray.
When I cannot find the answers
I know someone who can,
so in the middle of my questions
I reach for His hand.

So just give me Jesus and I'll be alright.
With Him I can make it, walking beside.
I know my tomorrows are safe in His hand.
Just give me Jesus; I know I can stand

When I take my eyes off Jesus and confusion starts to win,
When my worries overwhelm me and the battle reaches in,
in that moment I remember, I know whose I am,
and when the enemy comes rushing,
I reach for His hand.

So just give me Jesus and I'll be alright.
With Him I can make it, walking beside.
I know my tomorrows are safe in His hand
Just give me Jesus; I know I can stand.

We are servants of the King,
and our future is secure.
A crown of life is waiting for all who will endure.
And when I stand before my Savior
and He reaches out to me,
I'll lay all my crowns before Him
and fall to my knees,
and cry
Just give me Jesus and I'll be alright.
with Him I can make it, walking beside.
I know my tomorrows are safe in His hands.
Just give me Jesus; I know I can stand.