Week 31: My heart still swells when you look at me

It seems like the media’s only way to portray a married couple with children is to make them unhappy strangers who don’t even know each other anymore. It’s a little disheartening at times especially when I witness the real thing through people I meet. Is that just what happens? You have kids, get lost in the madness, and forget to see the other person?

I hope I’m not being naïve about how hard it can be to raise children, but I refuse to settle for that. My husband is not just a human who sleeps next to me, takes turns changing diapers, and picks up milk and eggs on his way home from work. He’s my partner and my best friend. We don’t just coexist; we share our lives. Why does that change for so many people once they have kids?

A few years ago Seth and I had just watched a movie where the couple had children and let them become the center of their lives. In the aftermath of childrearing they realized they had let themselves grow apart so much that they felt like strangers. Seth said he thinks a huge part of the problem is that so many couples stop spending time together, separate from the kids. For five years of marriage life has been just the two of us. Even after the baby comes we still have to find ways to be just us.

Ever since we decided to start trying to have a baby I have been praying our marriage would not meet the expectations of popular media. With deciding to be Christians, every decision, every incredibly good thing and heart-wrenching thing that happens to us always comes back to God. I truly think that’s what helps keep us so connected. No matter how much we grow and change over the years, the foundation of our marriage is built on something that will never change. Honestly, I think if we were to take God out of our relationship, it would crumble. It may sound completely insane, but I think that’s a very good thing. 

After being together for six and a half years total my heart still swells when he looks at me with an expression of love. A couple days ago I had woken up from a nap and then made dinner. I have two very annoying cowlicks on my head that cause my hair to stick up in all directions even on a good day. After a nap it's so impossible to get my hair to lay straight that I've given up trying. I had my glasses on, and was wearing pajamas that are unfortunately getting a bit too snug on my belly. To sum up my appearance in one word would be that I was a mess. During dinner I was telling a very animated story, and as Seth pointed out when we were dating, I can’t talk without using my hands. As I was flailing my arms around I noticed he was just staring at me. It wasn’t just good eye contact; he was staring. I finished my story and then started feeling a bit self-conscious that his eyes were locked on me with the hint of a smile on his face. After a few seconds, he reached up and touched his hand to my cheek and said, “You are so adorable. I love you.” Even though I felt like a walking disaster, somehow he still saw someone he loves. No matter how stressful or challenging raising a child is, I will fight to keep being someone he can love through the mess.

It’s been close to 90 degrees here for the last week. It’s amazing how much carrying around a little fetus can make you irritable in the heat. I’m also learning my limits and trying to remind myself that it’s ok to lay down on the couch and take a nap if my body is begging me to. On Sunday I achieved something that I can only be proud of because I am 31 weeks pregnant. I took not one, but two naps.

The next time I get invited to a baby shower I am going to get the mom-to-be a giant family size bottle of Tums. I seriously had heartburn yesterday morning at 7:30a.m. after eating a bagel. Tums to the rescue!

Married with children folk: What's something you and your spouse still make sure you do together?

Pregnant ladies: Now that you know what it's like to be pregnant, what is the "lifesaver" gift you will give to your pregnant friends?

Blessings,

Shan :) 

Week 30: A tattooed, motorcycle drivin’ bad boy who plays with Barbies

Sometimes I wonder what kind of parent I will actually be. I have all these grand hopes of being a totally selfless and completely awesome mom. But when the stresses of life are kicking me down, will I still be the parent who plays in the sandbox with my kids? What will be the memories from childhood that my little one will remember as an adult? 

One of my favorite childhood memories is, oddly enough, bath time. When I was really young it was acceptable to take a bath with my big brother, Eric. I always wanted to play with him so bath time was a treat. As we got a little older, co-ed bathtime was no longer appropriate. He transitioned into “big boy showers” and I was left behind to sit in a giant tub all by myself. I remember I would cry and throw a tiny tantrum when my parents would announce it was bath time. My dad has always been a good problem solver so he told me if I went and picked out my favorite stuffed animals he would put on a puppet show for me. Bath time had once again become a fun, cherished activity for me.

That wasn’t the only time my dad came to the rescue. When I would sit at the window and cry because my mom had left to go grocery shopping, my dad would suggest that we turn some music on and I could dance in the living room. We have the most home video footage of me jumping up and down in the living room “dancing” to the Pointer Sisters.

Out of both my parents, my dad was the one who had always wanted to be a dad. As I’ve stated in a previous post, (Week 25: I Once Hijacked Someone's Body) my mom had some reservations about motherhood but my dad was ready for all the puppet shows and dance parties from the beginning. They both turned out to be phenomenal, loving parents. But even my mom will tell you, my dad was the one who wanted to play make-believe, build forts, and decorate cookies with us when we were little.

When my dad spent quality time with my brother he got to do a lot of things that were probably a lot closer to his comfort zone. They would play basketball in the backyard with nerf balls and an old laundry basket as the hoop. They built ramps for Hot Wheels and had “running races” where my dad would time how fast Eric could sprint around the house. With his girly daughter who refused to leave the house unless she was wearing tights and a skirt, I’m sure he had to stretch himself a little. My favorite toy for a season of my four-year old life was a set of Barbie fashion cards. Each card had a year and an iconic outfit from that year. I was obsessed with them. I took them everywhere I went and thought I was pretty clever for inventing games to play with them.

The sweetest memory I have of my dad and me is sitting with him at the kitchen table playing my Barbie fashion card game. The game consisted of taking turns picking up a card and then explaining what your favorite thing was about the outfit. Pretty clever game for a four-year old right? Those of you who know my dad know that the only reason he ever gets new clothes is when my mom tells him it’s time to update his wardrobe. He has a tattoo on his forearm of a dagger going into his skin and was the only one in his high school who drove to school on a motorcycle. This is a guy who seriously doesn’t care at all about anything that has to do with girly fashion trends. And here he was, after a long day at work, sitting at the table with his little girl talking about how his favorite part of Barbie’s outfit was her bright purple shoes. I pray I can be that kind of parent. If we have a little girl who loves fashion like her momma, playing Barbie fashion cards won’t be much of a stretch. If we have a boy who wants to build Hot Wheel ramps in the living room, I’ll try to be just like my dad and pretend to be a Hot Wheels pro just so I can spend quality time with my little boy.  

Because of my dad I have cherished memories of bath time puppet shows, dance parties, and Barbie fashion games. That is what inspires me to be that kind of parent for my little one.

On a more current note, this week baby has hijacked my bladder and my ability to sleep comfortably. I knew this day was inevitable! I think God designed pregnancy this way on purpose so that when the baby comes we are already accustomed to waking up every few hours! 

Do you have any sweet memories of your parents playing with you when you were little? 

Blessings,

Shantastic

Week 29: Hoping to End with a Sneeze

I’ve never liked roller coasters or thrill rides. They’re just not my thing. I don’t like the sensation of free falling and I certainly don’t like being upside down. About ten years ago I went to a theme park with a group of my girlfriends. Of course one of the major schemes for the whole trip was to try to get scaredy cat Shan to go on something other than the Ferris Wheel. I kept toying with the idea of going on the tower ride. It’s the one where you wear a shoulder harness with your legs dangling towards to ground and it slowly carries you to the top. The worst part is you have no idea when it’s going to drop you. I finally gave in and told my friends I would do it. At this point I still wasn’t 100 percent sold on actually going through with it. As I stood in line I thought, ‘I can always back out. I don’t have to do this.” I kept thinking that same thought the whole way through the line and even up until I was strapped in. It’s amazing how calming it can be to just know you have an out, not necessarily that you will take it. After a few minutes the ride jolted slightly and then slowly starting carrying us up towards to sky. In that moment I realized I had no choice but to endure the consequences of my decision. I had no idea if it would be fun or terrifying, I just knew I no longer had a way out.  

As I have stated in previous posts, I do anything and everything within my power to avoid pain at all costs. I don’t have a high pain tolerance so I make calculated decisions about how best to avoid getting hurt. Before I got pregnant, the inevitable pain of childbirth wasn’t even on my radar. It was like I was still standing in line for the tower ride. By standing in line, it doesn’t mean you’re going to go through with it. Even when we started trying to get pregnant I still thought there’s no need to start worrying about how in the world a human is going to come out of me. When I saw the positive result on the test it still didn’t fully set in because I was way too excited to care. Plus, nine months was a long way away.

I recently saw the movie “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” and the reality of my fate finally started to sink in. What used to be nine months away is now only a mere 10-11 weeks away. The storyline follows a couple different women who are all expecting and documents how differently their bodies respond. There have been some rare days when I feel like the “supermodel” storyline with tons of energy and a mom-to-be glow that just won’t quit. There have never been any days when I feel like the fitness trainer who is still doing lunges at 7 months. And a couple times I have felt like the crazy lady who is having an emotional meltdown in the movie trailer saying, “I’m callin’ it ladies, pregnancy sucks. Growing a human being is really hard. I have no control over my body or my emotions!”

As the movie culminates in the births of all the babies, I finally realized the ride started moving a long time ago and I am in no way getting off. Of course I wouldn’t want to get off even if I could. But it’s a little frightening when you know you have no choice in what is going to happen to you. I have no idea how, but eventually, this baby is coming out.

Now here’s the big shocker. I am going to attempt to complete my rollercoaster ride without drugs. The scaredy cat girl who hates pain is going to try and give birth without the help of modern medicine. My plan may sound crazy but I’m not completely naïve. If my poor little body just can’t take it then I’ll get the epidural. For me, a lot of the time pain is a mental game. If I know why I’m in pain and I know it will eventually end, then it’s easier to suck it up and deal with it. I’m hoping the fact that knowing I will get to meet my child at the end of the ordeal will make it mentally doable. I’m also trying to go into the situation knowing that literally anything can happen. I might need an emergency c-section or I might just sneeze and have a baby in my arms.

This week I also noticed that I’ve started feeling a very small sense of entitlement. I should probably get a handle on it because entitlement is never an attractive quality. I think it’s the “growing a human being is really hard” lady coming out in me a little. For example, when someone cuts in front of me in line or takes the last seat in the room I think to myself, “Really? You really think you need that chair? Look at me! Growing a person here!!”

Moms, it’s time to scare me with your crazy birth stories! Did the epidural not work? Did it hurt even worse than you imagined? It’s too late to sugar coat it for me! I’m committed!

P.S. Keep scrolling to the post from Thursday, the 7th if you want to hear about my "I'm never flying again in my third trimester" experience!  

Almost week 29

Hello my faithful readers! If you're reading this you are indeed a faithful follower because you figured out I always post on Thursdays :) Unfortunately I've been traveling this week and am not quite finished with this week's post. I'm in the "editing" stage and will have it up very soon.

I'll leave you with this funny story.

At the airport I was feelin' my whole 29 weeks. Everything seemed heavier than normal and all my destinations were farther away than they used to be. The moving walkway literally saved my life. It was impossible to get comfortable on the flight and I had a moment when I had to wake Seth up so I could sprawl my legs across his lap to keep myself from fainting. Why did that help the lack of bloodflow to my brain? I'm not quite sure. But he turned on the fan of cold air and after a few minutes of breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth I stopped seeing little black dots.

As we were hauling our luggage to our friend's car Seth took the two heavier suitcases and I took my small carry on and the other large suitcase. I had hit my limit. I was convinced that TSA had somehow tricked me by loading my suitcase with sand. Seth realized he was a good ten feet in front of me and said, "I'll run up ahead with these two and then come get those from you." I could have just stopped right there and waited for him but I suppose I didn't want to look weak. I slowed down even more but stubbornly kept making one painful step after another. As sweat was beginning to drip down my face I saw Seth running back towards me. He grabbed the suitcases from me and screamed, "Babe! No wonder you were having trouble! One of the wheels is broken on the big suitcase!"

Blessings,
Shantastic :)