My Baby Doesn't Know I Have a Job

Ahh life. You busy little thing. 

When I restarted the blog back in April, it was during my quiet season for work. As I’ve mentioned before, I have a small business that I run from home. It’s a seasonal job so there are months in the year when I don’t have any projects I’m working on and then there are other months when I get to immerse myself in super fun creativeness. I like the change of pace. It’s nice to have seasons that are vastly different. 

However, now that the little cogs of my business are once again moving, it may mean that my blog posts will become bi-weekly (or even monthly). 

I wish I had a more definitive answer, but honestly I’m figuring this out as I go. Last year I took on way too much in all areas of my life, so I am trying really hard to have a better balance. However, the busyness of last year WAS a bit of an exception because we sold our house and lived with my in-laws for six weeks and THEN moved into our new house (all with a 3.5 and 1.5 year old). Add in the normal responsibilities of work and raising children and life was pretty crazy. We were too busy. 

When winter finally came and my work slowed, I felt God ushering me into a season of rest. I finally slowed down and experienced life at a much healthier pace. It was very eye-opening. We were now in our new home and no longer living out of boxes or spending every extra second going to a showing. I don't like to be that busy. I think we all have different levels of busy that we want to have in our lives, and the important part is figuring out what is best for you and your family. Are you putting too much on yourself? Are you taking time to just be? To enjoy something you love? During my season of rest I finally learned the importance of self care. Sometimes you just have to stop. Oftentimes the blog has been a form of self care for me. It’s something that feeds my soul and rejuvenates me. But as my work begins to pick up and my belly continues to grow to epic proportions, I don’t know what self care will look like for me this time around. Last week I touched on how much different this pregnancy has been compared to my other two. To twist a T. Swift lyric, “I’m feelin’ thirty-two oooo ooo” and you guys, instead of writing the next blog post I may just need to take a nap. But like I said earlier, I really don’t know yet what the future will bring. I hope I can continue to spill my thoughts in this space, but if I can’t make that happen every week, that’s ok too. 

Recently, I was packing up my work bag and about to head out the door for a few hours to complete a job. My son saw me heading towards the door and ran after me inquiring about where I was going. I told him I was going to work but I would be back soon. He froze and stared at me wide-eyed and then yelled, “You don’t go to work! Daddy goes to work!” I laughed and realized that the last time I left the house to go to work, he was too young to remember it. I thought it was super cute and realized that my season of starting work again would be something that wouldn’t just affect me. We would all have to adjust to it. 

If you read this blog every week, thank you. I’m looking forward to figuring out what the right pace is going to be going forward. And once I figure that out I will let you know. 

So, if there comes a Thursday and you don’t see my inner monologue ramblings pop up, know that I’ll be back. 

Sending a plethora of virtual hugs to you and yours,

Shantastic 

My Baby is Riding Waves

Goodbye first trimester. I won't miss you at all. You weighed me down and thoroughly kicked my butt. I will greatly welcome trimester number two and hope that I never see you again. So many times when I was feeling like barfing or just wanting more than anything else to crawl into bed and sleep for three days, I would catch eyes with one of my kids and go, Oh. That's why this is all worth it. This is all so worth it. Don't forget that Shan. Underneath all this nausea and fatigue is a new little life. He/She is peacefully riding those waves of sickness like a boss, growing like crazy and patiently waiting for the day to be born. 

It has been a huge relief to finally be able to explain to my kids why I haven’t had as much energy as usual. So far my kids have adjusted beautifully to the news of their new sibling. I have had to give quite a few excuses to my daughter for why we can't do all the fun adventurous things she would like to do and I was a bit worried that she would start to get frustrated with me. One day she offered up the idea that I push them in the double stroller all the way to the creek so they could throw sticks in the water. Normally, that idea would have been met with enthusiasm and encouragement and we would have packed ourselves up and been on our way. But in my current state, the thought of pushing them anywhere in anything made me want to sob, run away, and hide in my bed. So, I had to think fast. I quickly said 'Orrrrr what if we bring the ball pit outside and put water in it??' I was thinking that way she would get something fun and different and I wouldn’t have to walk further than ten away from where I was standing at that moment. Perfect. Thankfully she bought it and squealed with delight. I’m trying so hard to keep them engaged and occupied but also know that sometimes popcorn and a movie at 10:30 in the morning will not ruin them. They will be fine. 

Now that I can explain to Grace WHY I can’t do certain things anymore, I’m pleasantly surprised that she hasn't seemed resentful at all about it. Kids really are resilient. Yesterday morning I woke up and, once again, felt like I might be on the losing end of a nausea battle. I got the kids some breakfast, forced myself to eat something, and then just had to lay in the fetal position on the couch. I had promised the kids we would do bath time after breakfast (they really super love taking baths) so my daughter was confused why I was heading in the opposite direction of the bathroom. I told her I needed to lay down for a few minutes because my tummy was hurting. I assured her that after I rested then we would be off to bath time. Instead of whining and complaining, she gently curled herself next to me and put her head on my shoulder. She got it. I was so proud of her. After about ten minutes of resting, it felt like a switch was turned off in my stomach and I suddenly felt better. Of course I still felt the fatigue and exhaustion of pregnancy, but the roaring waves of nausea suddenly settled. I even felt this little bit of 'oomph' to get myself up and get my kids to the bath they were looking forward to. Once I got them both sudsing up in the tub, I stood and glanced out the bathroom window. My eyes soaked in the scene of our lush backyard and I let the relief of a calm stomach encircle me. I no longer felt like I was going to throw up. As most of you know, when you feel nauseous, the moments following when you feel normal again are so comforting. It's so lovely to not have your tummy be in turmoil. My eyes continued to sweep across our yard and the creek beyond and I started to thank God for this reprieve from my morning sickness. Then, the thought struck me. I wondered if someone had prayed for me and that's why I had felt better so instantaneously. With prayer, sometimes you never do find out if someone has prayed for you or not. But I felt content with having hope that maybe someone out there had lifted me up and that was why I felt so much better. I happily shrugged and thought that maybe I would never know, and that was ok. The sound of loud shrieks and laughter from my kids snapped me out of my thoughts and I turned to see them laughing uncontrollably. I couldn’t suppress the smile that engulfed my face as I watched them playfully splash each other and enjoy the warmth of the water. 

Later that day when my husband came home he asked right away how I was feeling. He had asked me the same question when I woke up that morning and I had tried to put on a tough facade and said 'I'm just ok… but I'll be alright.' I had a feeling that he could see through the brave face I was trying to put on. When he asked me again at the end of the day, I told him that I had actually started out the day feeling really icky and then all of a sudden the nausea totally went away. He smiled and said, 'That's great Babe because I was praying for you all morning.' 

The power of prayer.

I had someone tell me once that he thought we shouldn’t bother God with our small requests when there are so much bigger things that God has to take care of. But I think God cares about it all. I care about the big AND small things with my kids. I want to delight in them as they do big and exciting things like go to school for the first time. And I also care deeply about the small things, like watching them giggle as they enjoy each other’s company. God cared about my small thing too, enough to heal my morning sickness and allow me to enjoy watching my kids splash around in the tub instead of missing it because my head was hanging over a bucket. 

God cares about it all.

Blessings,

Shantastic 

My Baby is Not a Burrito

Imagine this scenario. Eight weeks pregnant, feeling like a bloated, nauseous beast and basically just trying to keep my life together. For the past three weeks my new best friend had become the big green bowl that I carried with me everywhere I went. I’ve been elated and felt blessed to have a new little life growing inside me, but man this kid has been kicking my butt. Obviously my husband has known from the beginning about this pregnancy, but our two kids still didn’t know that there was another sibling in their future. They just thought “mommy was feeling a little sick and needed some prayers.”

One evening when I had just reached the eight week mark, I was cleaning up the remnants of dinner and decided that the shirt I had been wearing for the last 48 hours was in desperate need of changing. I felt a slight twinge of annoyance (and a little guilt) because I realized that since I had been riding the morning sickness train so much lately, I was almost completely out of clean clothes. Who has time to keep up on laundry when you’re just trying to keep your oatmeal down? I figured there had to be at least something I could put on so I huffed and puffed my way up the stairs to my room. I threw open my drawer of t-shirts and found it almost completely empty. I quickly scanned my options and hesitantly picked up a plain red baby-tee and stared at it for a moment. I was hesitating because I knew it would fit a little tight. In my current state of baby-growing, I was in that awkward middle ground where it sort of looked like I might have an emerging pregnant mound OR a complete stranger may have easily thought that I just really like to eat burritos and cheeseburgers. You couldn’t exactly tell yet if it was a food baby or a real baby. I had been trying to wear looser fitting shirts lately so that my daughter wouldn’t start to grow suspicious about my stomach getting bigger. So, I wasn’t all too excited about wearing this shirt that I knew would emphasize my recent weight gain. We still had two whole weeks before we planned on telling her. As I continued to stare at the shirt I thought that I was probably just overreacting. She’s only four. She’s probably not paying attention to my belly. I quickly changed into the red shirt that I knew would hug my baby bump just a little too tight and then slowly met my reflection in the mirror. Confirmation. This shirt made me look pregnant. As my mind flashed back to those first “belly pics” I took when I was pregnant with Grace, I realized that the way my eight week belly was currently looking was more like my 18 week belly pic with her. My how things change the third time around. I stood there staring and my protruding mid-section and decided in that moment that I could either let this be something that got me down, or I could laugh about it and embrace the fact that I’m not in my twenties anymore. The first time I got pregnant my stomach muscles were actually in descent shape. Somewhat tight, not over-stretched by the pressure of an eight pound human. This time it was as if my stomach said to the rest of my body “Oh? This again? Meh why even try to hold it together?” and then it raised its figurative white flag and completely gave up. Imagining my stomach with a lazy personality somehow made me feel better. It actually made me chuckle a little to myself. Tis the season for growing babies and having ab muscles that just totally give up. 

As I marched back downstairs after having given myself a pretty good self-esteem pep talk, I passed by my daughter, Grace. She looked stunned as I rounded the corner to the kitchen and halted all conversation by throwing her hands up in the air and proclaiming, “OH Mom! Look!” I paused and said, “Look at what sweetie?” She ran over to me and put her hand on my belly. I froze and felt speechless because I realized what was going to come out of her mouth next and I had no idea how I was going to respond. She then blurted, “MOM! Your tummy!” Next she pursed her lips to the side in a matter-of-fact sort of way and said definitively, “I think you got a baby in there Mom. Because, look at how big your tummy is! Yep. You gots a baby in there.” My eyes about bugged out of my head and I suddenly heard the muffled laughter of my husband who was standing five feet away. My glance shot over to him with a look of “Please help me NOW!” but all I saw was a man holding the collar of his shirt over his face to try and hide the fact that he was totally losing it over our daughter’s allegations. He finally met my eyes and I had to nearly pinch myself to keep from erupting with laughter. I pressed my lips together dramatically as I tried not to panic. We weren’t ready to tell the world yet about the baby, and if we told my daughter then the world would surely know about it. I didn’t want to lie to her though so I went for the classic “Oh..wouldn’t that be cool? Hey look we still have some cookies from yesterday! Do you want a cookie?”  Maybe not the best method, but hey, it worked. She bounced away down the hallway, cookie in hand, and the talk about a baby being in my belly ceased. 

I feel so relieved to have made it to the ten week mark. Now my girl knows all about the real reason why my belly is getting bigger and I no longer have to distract her with cookies to keep her from talking about it. Right after our kids found out about the baby I overheard my husband explaining to them that this baby means that Mom might need more help around the house. When I walked over to them in the middle of this conversation Grace was beaming and said, “Mom! Daddy says we can help you by putting our dishes in the sink and helping you clean because your tummy is going to get SO HUGE! Is your tummy going to get really big Momma?” I smiled down at her as I relished the joy that was emanating from her. She was so purely happy about us having another baby, and she was already feeling proud of herself for knowing that it means we might ask more of her. I chuckled and pulled her close as I said, “Hon, I will definitely need more help and yes, my tummy is going to get huge.” 

Cheers to the season of growing a baby. I like to joke about some of the unpleasant side effects (like abs that give up on you) but really, this is such an amazing journey. I’m honored to be on it …even if I can’t find a clean shirt that fits. 

Blessings,

Shantastic

P.S. If you missed last week’s post, surprise! I’m expecting baby number 3! You can get caught up here ——> My Baby is a Kumquat and find out what made us want to jump on this roller coaster one last time! 

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 :) 

Week 23: My belly is a bounce house

I can’t put my socks on while standing up anymore. And I think I may have found a stretch mark. I’m praying it’s just my imagination. This morning I was feeling baby move stronger than I ever have. At one point I thought I saw my shirt twitch and couldn’t believe it! I lifted up my shirt to look and my belly started bouncing! It looked so cool!

 A couple days ago Seth and I were watching a video of our favorite comedian, Jim Gaffigan. He earned our number one spot because he does a 15-minute bit on the awesomeness of bacon. He was talking about how he and his wife just had their fourth baby. He described with amazement all the crazy cool things a woman’s body can do. He basically said, women can grow a baby inside their body, delivery that baby with their body, and then miraculously feed that baby, with their body! Then he said when you think about what man’s contribution to life is, it’s really sort of embarrassing. 

Although the physical contribution of the sexes is unfortunately a bit more significant for the woman, I was shown this week what some of men’s different roles can be when their wife is in the “growing the baby with their body” stage. This week Seth has made a late night dessert run and painted the baby’s room. He even earned extra points with me for agreeing to paint one of the walls Kelly green. Sure, the guy can be the one who does projects around the house, runs out and gets you whatever your little taste buds desire, and tells you how beautiful you look even though you feel like a blob. Seth has done all these things, but this week he reminded me of how crucial our husbands are in the baby-making journey.

 I woke up on Friday morning with some minor pain in my lower abdomen. It sort of felt like the annoying pain you get when you have accidentally “held it’ for too long. I thought nothing of it but as the day went on the pain kept growing stronger. One of my greatest weaknesses is freaking myself out over situations that haven’t even happened yet. It could be a potential illness, the future, finances, etc. and I could sit there and worry for hours over nothing. I’ve really been working on it the last few years but I definitely backslid during our first few weeks of pregnancy. I Googled terms like, “ectopic pregnancy” and “signs of miscarriage” if I felt any sort of pain or cramp. I was giving myself different Google diagnoses everyday! Things had gotten out of control because I was trying to take control. I had to stop letting Google diagnose me. So, when I was feeling this ever-increasing pain in my abdomen I told myself to be calm and stop getting all worked up over nothing. Unfortunately I didn’t pray about it in that moment, I just tried to brush it off. Thankfully God used my body to talk to me since I wasn’t talking to Him. At around noon I was sitting on the floor and when I reached for something I felt a shooting pain go through my pelvis. I froze and realized that I had been in a fair amount of pain for a few hours but had been just trying my best to ignore it. I wrote Seth a text in a “just so you know this was kind of weird and I thought I’d tell you” sort of way to tell him what I was experiencing. I don’t think he’s ever responded to one of my texts sooner. He called me immediately and when I said hello he said, “Call the doctor.” I laughed him off and tried to say it was probably nothing. He was so insistent and said, “When it comes to you and the baby we don’t mess around. Just call.” Seth and I never tell eachother what to do. If on occasion it does happen, we know that the other person is strongly insisting on being taken seriously. I reluctantly agreed, called the doctor, and got an appointment for later that afternoon. After our appointment Seth could have given me a huge dose of, “I told you so.” But thankfully he didn’t. The pain I was experiencing was from a bladder infection, which my doctor told me if left untreated, can lead to premature labor. WHOA! I got the antibiotics and started feeling relief a few days later.

 Married ladies out there, I hope you have husbands who can fulfill the stereotypical male pregnancy-related duties, but even more than that, my hope for you is that he is a man who cherishes you and will take care of you when you aren’t taking care of yourself. By trying to ignore what my body was telling me I wasn’t taking care of myself, or our baby.

Blessings,
Shantastic :)

Week 22: Channeling my inner "Pooh"

So far this week I got stuck on the couch and balanced a bowl on my tummy.
The other day I was telling Seth a story and he kept looking at my belly and smirking. I was trying to ignore it and continue with my story but my curiosity eventually won. When I asked him what he was smirking at he quickly apologized, let out a suppressed laugh and pointed at my tummy saying it was so cute he couldn’t help it. I looked down to find that my shirt was in a “Winnie the Pooh” situation where it had gotten stuck on the top part of my belly and couldn’t go all the way down! Thank goodness we weren’t out in public! That shirt might have to go in the ‘post-pregnancy’ pile.

Also, if you look up a picture of Pooh you will notice he is without a belly button. I used to have a pretty impressive “inny” bellybutton. Now it’s just a tiny little dip across my tummy. It’s starting to look like Pooh’s completely non-existent one. My baby hijacked my belly button! However on the bright side, pretty soon I’m going to have the classic preggo belly button that sticks out!

Even when Seth and I were dating we had already talked about baby names. We learned from the very beginning that we have dramatically different tastes in names! Ever since we got pregnant we have been just a little obsessed with figuring out what our child’s name will be. At the heart of it we believe God will ultimately reveal to us our child's name. Nonetheless, we’ve played ridiculous games such as, “You have to pick a boy and girl baby name from a Disney movie” or “If our child had to have a superhero name it would be…” Amidst all our frantic searching and silly games I completely neglected to realize our baby won’t be the only one getting a name that day. I’ve had quite a few different names and titles in my life: Shan, wife, babe, daughter…In a few months I’m going to be named mom and Seth will be dad! Just like any name or title, part of your identity can be found in it. It's crazy cool to think about how much our identities will be changing. I will be Mom: the soother of nightmares. Seth will turn into Dad: the ultimate fort builder!

Thankfully, getting this new name has been a life-long ambition of mine. I’ve been looking forward to being a mom since I was in high school. My senior year I had to fill out a questionnaire that was read to the entire school. One of the questions asked what I want to do with my life. At the age of 17 I wrote down that I was planning on getting a degree in Elementary Education but I really just wanted to be a mom someday. Is that what a normal 17 year-old says?

Not too long ago I came across an old journal entry from 2008 that made me smile. I was 22 at the time and still had the same feelings about one day becoming a mom.

Today in class one of my students nonchalantly called me mom by mistake. I was surprised as to how good it felt. In all my years of working with young children I have never once been mistakenly called mom: the term given to the ultimate female caregiver. Maybe I'm taking this a bit too seriously...but it really felt good. Then I realized why hearing that name made my heart swell up like a giant balloon. Someday, I will be mom to someone. How exciting.

“Someday” is now only four months away! I'm ready to be this little one's mom.

To those of you who have been reading this blog every week, I’d like to thank you for allowing my inner-monologue to have a voice. It's been really fun.

On the right side I added a poll to see if people think little one is a boy or a girl! So far 95% of people have been verbally telling me the same guess. What do you think?

I also added a tool on the right to make it easy to share my blog with your friends on Facebook and Twitter!

Blessings,
Shantastic

Week 21: You need to measure my what??

Our long-awaited baby-viewing went incredibly well! Aside from my ignorance on how things in the medical world are done these days, everything else was amazing! We were told our baby is developing exactly the way he/she should be!

So what is it that I’m completely clueless about when it comes to ultrasounds? First, let’s back up and give you a little history on my personality when it comes to being poked, prodded, and most of all having to endure pain. In high school my best friends referred to me as, “The Fragile One” because unfortunately it didn’t take much to get me frazzled. I have a low pain tolerance and, therefore, do everything necessary to avoid it. Without going into too much detail, I’ll just say that I cried when I got my first “lady” check up. I knew once I got pregnant I was going to have to suck it up, endure a lot of pain, and be ok with having doctors and nurses invade my privacy in a very big way. Before each of our appointments, I have had to mentally prepare myself that something incredibly invasive might happen. For our ultrasound I didn’t even know if they were going to do the “goin up there” version or the more favorable “gel on the tummy” one!

Now that brings us to ultrasound day. I was told on the phone to come with a full bladder. So, like a good little rule follower I had held it in. When the technician led us into our room she informed me I could go ahead and hop up on the table. Since my urge to go to the bathroom had grown pretty intense I quickly asked her if she needed a urine sample first. When she gave me her reply I swear it was one of those moments you see on tv where they show you that in the character's mind he/she responds to the situation with horror and shock but then the scene cuts to how they are really responding on the outside and they look completely calm. She said, “Oh, first we’re just going to measure your cervix and then you can empty your bladder.” … Inside my head the scene had frozen and I had backed into the corner of the room shrieking in my scared little girl voice with my hands covering my face,. You’re going to measure my what? I know what a cervix is but how on earth do you measure one?? That sounded a little terrifying to a fragile person like me. And why hadn’t she given me a gown and a nice little privacy curtain to hide behind? When my imagination finally snapped back to reality I politely asked her if I needed to undress first. She said I just needed to unbutton the top button on my jeans... For those pregnant women out there who have never had their cervix measured….they can do it via “gel on the tummy” ultrasound these days. Absolutely nothing invasive about it at all! Yes, I do feel a little silly.

Seeing our baby was very surreal. It’s a life-changing moment where you realize you never want to go back to the life you had a moment ago, when you hadn’t seen your child. We also made it without finding out the sex. As soon as the technician said she knew Seth started biting his nails and rocking in his chair. Then he started giving me “the look” and I knew it was driving him crazy! I told him the intensity of wanting to know would pass and to stay strong!

My new pregnancy snack of choice: Tums. Heartburn hurts! (low pain tolerance remember)

Moms out there: Did you have any embarrassing moments like I did where you showed off just how little you know about the logistics of having a baby?

Week 17 and Welcome!

Welcome to the inner thoughts of my pregnant mind! This blog is dedicated to all the crazy cool, strange, and miraculous things that happen when a woman is pregnant. My husband said it best the other day when he said, "You know, when you really think about how incredibly miraculous it is that women actually grow a baby inside of them..we should be freaking out excited everytime a child is born!" I agree Seth. I wholeheartedly agree.

First a small disclaimer. If it ever sounds like I'm complaining, please read my words and know that I was probably laughing as I wrote them. Sometimes, yes, it feels like my baby hijacked my body. But honestly, I'm glad to share it. Honored, and priviledged to share it actually! It still blows my mind to think there is a living thing growing inside me right now. How cool is it that God designed us to grow our babies so close to us and in such an intimate way. It may be annoying when I can't get comfortable at night or when I have to waddle to get around, but wow, it's amazing.

The theme for this week is: I'm finally showing enough that I actually sort of a tiny bit look pregnant! Hooray!!

Lets rewind for a moment and jot down some stats about where I started before I got pregnant. 5'7" and 127lbs. I've been one of those people who just doesn't really fluctuate a whole lot with my weight. I'm not sure why because I can put down the cheese curds and doritos as well as anyone. Anyways it has been a life mystery that I have always been thankful for. On the 9th I weighed in at 133lbs! My favorite jeans just barely button. Good thing I bought a second pair of them in the next size up. Take that ever expanding waist line!

Things to look forward to in the next couple weeks: Feeling baby move for the first time and knowing for sure it was baby and not just your regular old movement of things through the intestines. Last night I kept feeling these little "bubbles" but didn't want to get overly excited in case I was actually rejoicing over a bodily function. Then I felt one that was way bigger than the rest and I froze. I'm almost definitely completely sure it was baby...or a huge gas bubble.

Things to look forward to in the next couple months: Being able to balance my bowl of cereal on my belly. I've always wanted to do that.

Baby is the size of a turnip this week. I am now feeling a much stronger adoration for turnips than I did before...

If you have already had a baby or are pregnant right now, feel free to leave a comment about what it was like the first time you felt your baby (or a giant gas bubble) !

Blessings,
Shantastic: mom-to-be extraordinaire