Week 28: Waddling Without a Stroller at the Zoo

This week Seth and I are visiting family in San Diego, the city with perfect weather, beautiful beaches, and driveways lined with palm trees. It's a nice place to "have" to go visit. We have to see our family right? We lived in San Diego for four years so it’s been like visiting our second home.

Our trip happened to land on our five-year anniversary, which is this Saturday. We decided since we were already finding ourselves in one of the most beautiful cities in America during our anniversary, we should celebrate it here. For our mini vacay we booked a hotel downtown that overlooked the bay and transitioned from being San Diego natives into tourists. I suppose our anniversary celebration could also be considered a “Babymoon” since this was our last vacation before becoming parents. For me everything has been all about the “last time”. This is the last time we’ll fly alone. This is last time we won’t have to be that couple with the screaming baby that no one wants to sit next to. And this is the last time we’ll go on vacation together without missing our child terribly.

Even though I can feel myself becoming impatient with having to wait for little one to come, having time to mentally prepare is actually very conducive to my personality. I like to be able to process major life changes and savor the way things are so that I don’t resent it when it all changes.

This trip has definitely been an opportunity for me to delight in just having to worry about myself. At the airport we had a relatively easy check in experience and I turned to Seth and said, “I hope you enjoyed that.” He raised his eyebrows at me as if to say, “What are you talking about?” I answered his voiceless question by saying, “Next time we go through check in and security it ain’t gonna be so easy!” I then mimed trying to carry a baby in a Baby Bjorn and push a stroller while carrying a diaper bag. He reminded me we are a team and I won't have to do it alone. Then he called dibs on carrying the baby. 

We got to enjoy many more babyless moments on our “Babymoon”. On Tuesday we went to the famous San Diego Zoo. I enjoyed getting to hold Seth’s hand the entire time, see my favorite animal, the giraffe, eat when I was hungry and rest when I was tired. After about five hours I was so exhausted that I succumbed to the pregnancy waddle, but it was totally worth it. Even though I was savoring my moments of independence I kept smiling to myself as I observed all the families with small children and envisioned what my new future might be like. I know Brendon was doing the same thing because at one point he chuckled and said, “All these moms probably think I’m checking them out..but I’m really checking out their strollers.”

Even though I keep thinking about what I’m “giving up” I know I’m going to take one look at our baby and wonder how on earth I ever lived my life without him/her. I'll gladly give up my selfish ways in order to gain a relationship with my child. The next time I go to the zoo I’ll get to see it through the eyes of my long-awaited little one. I’ll no longer be as excited to see the giraffes. Instead I’ll be anxiously watching my child's face light up as he/she sees his/her favorite animal.

I was watching my belly last night as little one went absolutely crazy. I seriously felt and saw a limb push my belly up on one side and slide all the way over across the entire length of my tummy. I was speechless.  It’s just so seriously cool that there is a little person growing in there! 

Blessings,

Shantastic :) 

Week 27: Two-thirds can make you crazy

I’ve always been a little scared of the third trimester. That’s when you see the pregnant women with sweat dripping down their forehead as they try to do the simplest tasks like put on their shoes. I also feel like the third trimester is when women start to tell you how it really is. If there ever was a pregnancy “glow” it’s most definitely gone by the time they hit the seven-month mark. Earlier this week I tried to complete a task that should have taken 3 minutes and ended up taking over 20. There wasn’t even the slightest glimmer of a glow on me that day. The family I nanny for just recently lowered sweet baby girl’s crib, which however necessary, also means I have the daunting task of trying to bend over far enough to be able to reach her. Yesterday I had to attempt to change her crib sheet. No matter what I did I just couldn’t reach far enough! I became the stereotype. Beads of sweat forming on my face, grunting as I tried to reach just far enough to grab the mattress. How my life has changed.

I’ll be saying goodbye to my nanny family at the end of July so I can be a stay at home mom. I’ve already cried multiple times when I think about saying goodbye to sweet baby girl. When I have a four-day weekend I honestly miss her. I’ll be out running errands and wish I could hear her cute, little babbles from her car seat. It’s really helped me to realize that I’m ready to be a mom, because the idea of having a little one around me all time doesn’t feel like an inconvenience. It feels natural.

Not only have I enjoyed creating a relationship with baby girl, but I’ve gained some pretty invaluable insight into the logistics of motherhood. For example, when she sneezes a mouthful of baby food carrots all over my face, it no longer fazes me. Another time I realized I had been walking around for over 30 minutes with spit up caked in my hair. These otherwise disgusting events are just another day at the office for me.

When gross things happen, it’s pretty amazing how much our maternal instincts take over and all we care about is making sure the baby is ok. One time she had an upset tummy and puked with what seemed like the force of a small volcano all over my only pair of jeans that fit. I didn’t care about how disgusting it was to be sitting in a stinky mess. All I remember is my heart aching as I looked at her tear streaked cheeks and saw her sad eyes looking back at me hoping I would have a solution for her discomfort.  

After 10 years of working with children and ultimately having to say goodbye to them at some point, I finally will have a relationship that is permanent. I’ll be cleaning up baby puke out of my hair that actually belongs to my baby. For some crazy reason I have chosen the boogers, diapers, and sneezes.  Bring it on baby. Bring. It. On.

Crazy third-trimester emotional breakdown of the week:

The other day I reached the epitome of emotional craziness. I literally had a mental breakdown when my eggs stuck to the pan and there was no longer even a remote possibility that they would be “over easy”. I completely lost it. I was pacing, screaming at the pan, and clenching my fists to my forehead. At first Seth thought I was just joking and being dramatic. Then I saw worry start to creep across his face as he realized I genuinely was that angry at my eggs. He hovered for a minute or two in that delicate balance of is it ok to laugh right now because she is being so ridiculous or do I need to try and figure out how to help her? He decided to go for the safer option and offered to make me a new batch of eggs.

Baby is getting big enough now (about 2 pounds) that when he/she kicks and moves I can actually feel limbs moving and twisting! It’s not just random bubbles anymore. We’ve also been able to push on my belly and feel the baby creating resistance! 

Come one ladies, it's time to share your own pregnancy related emotional meltdowns! Did ruined eggs set you off too?

Blessings,

Shantastic :) 

Week 26: A spot stopped my heart

Next week marks the beginning of my third trimester. No wonder I’m feeling so uncomfortable…

This week baby has hijacked my appetite. When my friends and family ask me how I’ve been feeling, I tell them I’m hungry. I was joking with my mom and I said, “I’m trying really hard to be healthy but sometimes I just feel like, whatever, I’m getting huge anyways, might as well enjoy this tasty cinnamon roll!” She laughed and then said, “Well, sweetie, the thing is…if you eat like that then it’ll be harder to lose the weight once the baby comes.” …I consider myself a relatively smart person, but my common sense definitely escaped me on that one.

Seth and I started talking about our future hopes of having children before we were even married. We dreamed about names, how many we wanted, and of course, when. After a few months of trying we saw a dark pink line and a slightly fainter but very present second line. All our dreaming could finally be put into motion. However, it wasn’t long after our celebration of running around the living room screaming and crying that a startling reality set in. We thought the hard part would be trying to conceive. What if it didn’t happen for us? Now that we were pregnant we realized the hard part wasn’t over. Just like we had no control of if we could conceive a baby, we had no control of whether or not this little life survives. I could contribute by being healthy and taking care of myself, but beyond that it was totally out of our control. That’s a very sobering thought when the thing you want control of the most in your life is completely out of your hands.

A week and a half ago we had our first real scare. I went to the bathroom and found out I was spotting. I’ve heard that can be pretty normal so even though my heart stopped for a moment I quickly recovered and thought it was probably nothing. I looked up a couple creditable pregnancy websites and both said in big bold letters that if you have any spotting after 24 weeks to take it very seriously and call your doctor immediately. At that point I was 24 weeks, 4 days.  While I was waiting for the nurse at the hospital to call me back I frantically tried to get baby to move. My doctor had told me that active movement actually rocks the baby to sleep and when you lay still baby will most likely wake up. I stopped my erratic pacing and gently lay down on my side. I stayed there frozen for a few minutes, waiting, hoping, praying. Nothing. I started poking my belly trying to urge him/her to just give me something. Finally, I felt the tiniest little bubble. It was enough to calm me down a little but not enough to make all my worry go away. When the nurse called back she recommended I come in just to make sure everything was ok.

By the time we left the hospital we were incredibly relieved and undeniably grateful. We got to hear baby’s heart beating, baby had woken up and started doing cartwheels, I had gotten a cleared urine test, and we found out (the not-so-fun way) that my cervix is still closed. Those of who read my post from Week 21 know exactly what was going through my mind when the nurse said she needed to check my cervix. I blankly stared at her for a moment while the reality set in. Then I said, “ohhh..that doesn’t sound very fun..” She paused and then replied, “You know, unfortunately, there really isn’t a way to make this enjoyable. You just…have to breathe.” So breathe is what I did. And squeezed Seth’s hand so hard I’m pretty sure he lost circulation to his fingers.

One of my friends told me the worry about the safety of your children is always something you have to work through. It’s not over once you finally give birth and see your child breathing for the first time. So I guess Seth and I have embarked on a life-long journey of learning to put our trust in God, especially with the things we hold most dear. I say that like it’s easy, but it’s really not. One of my best friends lost a baby about a month before her due date. The pain and sorrow I felt for her was intense. I remember praying and actually yelling at God. It made no sense to me. Time has passed and I know my friend and her family are still learning how to cope with their loss. Last Christmas marked the one-year anniversary. They sent out a card that said, “A year ago our son joined His Creator in Heaven, his joy far outweighs our loss.” Wow. Trusting God with the things we hold most dear can be extremely challenging when we look at it from our Earthly perspective. But a lot of the time, we don’t know how to look at it any other way because this is all we know. My friends have continued to trust God through the worst of circumstances, and that’s pretty powerful.

Mommies and Pregnant ladies: Did you ever have to go to the hospital because something was wrong? Were you as freaked out as I was?

Blessings,

Shantastic

Week 25: I once hijacked someone’s body

Thank you to everyone who offered their feedback to me about last week's post. I was extremely blessed to hear that some of the things God had put on my heart had resonated with you. 

I saw a commercial this week for Mother’s Day. Who is surprised that I was crying by the end? It was a montage illustrating how many jobs, tasks, and unselfish acts a mom does throughout motherhood. The tears came when the children started to grow up and recognize their relationship with the woman who had loved them unconditionally their whole life. The line at the end of the commercial said, “The hardest job in the world, is the best job in the world.” My mom once told me that she never really wanted to be a mom because she didn’t think she would be good at it. Then she said she’s so happy she did become a mom because she never knew she could love another person so much. She really didn’t have an accurate perception of her mothering capabilities because she’s pretty phenomenal.

My entire life I have always wanted to be near my mom. I remember being a toddler and crying hysterically when my mom would leave to go to the grocery store. She just has this complete safeness about her. As I’ve gotten older, I feel like I get the best of both worlds with her. She’ll always be mom my first, but she has grown into a friend.

During my sophomore year of high school I had to envision what life would be like without her. At her yearly exam her doctor noticed a lump on her breast and said due to protocol he had to have it tested. The results came back with the absolutely terrifying “c” word attached to them. As I’m sure with most people, all the different scenarios played out in my head. She could be fine. It could just be a simple surgery. Or she could die. And I would have to live the rest of my life without her.

I was trying to process all this information with only having been a Christian for about a year. I was still in the delicate process of figuring out what it means for God to have a purpose for our lives and understanding that His timing is always perfect. How could my mom having cancer align with any of that?

I felt like my adoration towards God was conditional. Save my mom and I’ll love you forever. Take her away and I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you. They were very “human” emotions to say the least. A few days later she was scheduled to go in for surgery and at that point the doctors would know if the cancer had spread. The night before her surgery was the most broken I have ever been. I cried so hard I felt like my heart could literally split from my chest and break in two. I don’t think I’ve ever had a more sincere prayer since that night. I begged God to let me keep her. 

At school the following day I was in a complete daze. It seemed like every moment was either clouded with tears when I was showing emotion or hidden behind blank stares when I was trying to keep it together. I didn’t rejoin the world of communication until I heard the word, “contained” later that night. The cancer was contained to her breast. She needed a simple surgery, and doses of radiation and chemotherapy as a precaution. What I heard from this statement was, “You get to keep your mom.” Maybe God healed her because He chose to answer my desperate prayer. I think He heard my prayer, but He also had His own reasons. As her and I have continued to walk through life together, God has given me glimpses of what some of those reasons might be. It’s now been over 10 years since she has been diagnosed as cancer free. Which means I have a whole lifetime of memories with her, both past and future, to be thankful for.

If my kid loves me as much as I love my mom, I’ll be happy.

How has baby hijacked my body this week? Seth and I shared a good laugh as I attempted to fit into some of my fancy clothes. We have a wedding coming up in a couple weeks and being the thrifty person I am, I thought just maybe I could possibly fit into something I already have. I knew it was really bad when Seth just stared at me then started laughing and shaking his head. Between fits of laughter he said, “Babe, we’ll go shopping and get you something.” I had to know just how bad it was so I turned towards the mirror, and joined him in laughing hysterically. I looked ridiculous. 

If you have Twitter, let's be creepers and follow eachother! Find me @ShanTastic2714

Blessings,

Shantastic :) 

Week 24: “The most accurate guide for our own hearts, is the One who made it” –Josh Riebock

I’m a little serious this week. You’re more than welcome to join me.

When I started my nanny job at the end of October, I fell in love with the little girl almost immediately. She didn’t have to do anything to make me feel that way. She was just being who she is, and I adored her for it. I still do. I know that when our baby is born I will fall in love again just as easily, only on a more intense scale being that this will be my child. He/she won’t have to do anything to earn my love. This baby hasn’t even taken his first breath, and he is already loved.

A few weeks ago I was playing with the little girl I nanny for. She had just gotten this toy with a mirror and every time I turned the mirror to her she would light up when she saw her reflection. The family also has a large full-length mirror in the house and when we pass it I stop and let her look at herself. She always gives the same joyful reaction to seeing her reflection. It made me start to wonder, at what age does that change for us? Our initial instinct when we see what we look like as babies is happiness. She’s not sitting there critiquing herself or comparing herself to another. She’s not letting herself be defined by someone else. She’s just happy. At some point we all start to let others define our beauty and worth. We all do it. Yet, the thought of my child one day doing that just breaks my heart. How could my child not know how important he is? 

A few days ago I heard that a 13 year-old girl from my small hometown committed suicide because she was being bullied for a very long time. I didn’t know the girl personally, but her story has been haunting me all week. She had reached a place where she thought she had no worth at all.  I can guarantee you her family felt very differently. I have no idea what her home life was like. Maybe her parents were telling her everyday how much they loved her. Sometimes, unfortunately, we choose not to hear that. My parents were always extremely supportive of me and they’ve continued to be into my adult life. But there were times growing up that their words of love and adoration didn’t penetrate my heart. Instead I focused on the boy who had teased me during recess saying that my glasses made me look like a toad.  In those moments I was letting bullies define my value because I believed what they were saying. We’ve all done that in our lives. We’ve all let others dictate how we feel. It breaks my heart that this girl had begun to believe all the hurtful things that were being said to her.  

Last summer I went to camp with Seth's youth group. I’ve been going to and working for summer Bible camps for over 10 years so I have heard some lackluster speakers, a handful of interesting ones and only a couple who have been exceptional. The speaker last summer, Josh Riebock, truly was an exception. He was raw and absolutely honest about his failures. He told us his story about how he completed the 12-step program for self-hatred. He really hated the person he was. During worship one of the evenings the band was singing a song with the lyrics, “So I'll stand, my soul Lord to You surrendered, all I am is yours, all I am is yours.” After the song Josh walked up to the microphone and said God had given him a revelation while we were singing. We as humans are so broken and it’s so easy for us to forget our value. He said he was finally starting to figure it out. As he was singing he realized that when we sing that song God is thinking, “You still don’t get it. You don’t get it.” Josh said as many times as we sing those words to God, He is singing it back to us a hundred million times louder saying, ‘No, all I AM is yours.” We won’t ever begin to understand our worth until we link our identity with the One who created us. That’s when we stop letting others define us and allow ourselves to be defined by Him. Yes, I’m a little dorky sometimes, yes, I suppose my glasses do make me look like a toad to some people, but my life has an incredible and irreplaceable value. I have a God who not only created me, but loved and accepted me before I even took my first breath. Out of all the things I want my child to learn in life, embracing the wholeness of God’s love is my most sincere hope.  

As I was writing this post I looked up Josh on Facebook and someone had tagged him in one of his speeches. I started listening to it and a smile slowly crept across my face as I realized how much his topic correlates with what has been on my heart this week. 

To hear his video go to http://www.facebook.com/pages/Josh-Riebock/221730051185951 and scroll down to April 9th.

(There's a long intro you can skip over)

Blessings,

Shantastic :)