I don't blog anymore. I've blogged once since Alastair was born, and that was the story of his birth. It's not because I don't want to, but because I have so much to say and not enough time to say it. Any spare minute I get right now, I either work out and take a shower or read my bible and pray. I have time for nothing else. I wish I were exaggerating. There's one main cause of this and a lot of little causes. The main thing is that Alastair demands all my time. He's a very needy baby.
Let me start with how much I love him and how much of a miracle he is in my life. I love being a mom to him and Sybil. It brings my heart joy that he is here with us and that he needs me. However, this kid went from colic/acid reflux to not sleeping to thrush to not eating to not eating AND not sleeping. Here is the thing though, I'm done complaining about it all, even though it has been incredibly hard.
Life is too short to be negative all the time, and there is a purpose in all this hardship. I have realized over and over again this past year that life is about adjusting expectations. If you're expectations are right, your attitude improves greatly. I had expected Al to be just like Sybil was as a baby (content, great sleeper, scheduled but flexible, etc.). Based on him being a good nurser at the beginning, I had expected him to be a good eater through out his little life. I had expected the second child to be easier that the first since this was our second time around. I had expected him to fall asleep in the car seat instead of scream the entire time, making it impossible to go anywhere. No one told me to expect these things, I just did it on my own--hoping for life to be smooth sailing. That is, however, not what God had planned with Al.
Alastair is NOT like Sybil. He's totally different. And that is okay because we are all different. On days when he is not sleeping and not eating and I have to pump six times a day for him, I can get a little discouraged (or a lot). There's a blanket hanging above his crib that says "God knew my heart needed you." The Lord has used this blanket to speak to me in those times of discouragement. He knew I needed Alastair (a needy, fussy baby) and not another easy Sybil. He knew what type of baby would challenge me and bring me to my knees and make me BEG God for his presence and his mercy. He knew all the things I needed for my further sanctification.
Recently, I finished the book "A Praying Life" and the Lord used it to speak truth to me in this time of difficulty. With Al's thrush being so hard to get rid of and going on for over a month and a half, I had been begging God to heal him and me. About half way through that month, I thought maybe I was praying the wrong prayer. I changed from "God, please heal us and make him eat" to "God, give me joy in the midst of this and don't let it consume my life." A few weeks after I changed my prayer, I read this from that book:
"I realized that God didn't seem particularly interested in saving me from the difficult situation. He just wanted to change me."
This is what my life looks like right now. I see God pursuing me through my difficult son. Through thrush and colic, He is bringing me to my knees and changing me. I cannot be self-sufficient in this time. I only survive a day when I rely on Him for my strength. So, most days now, I expect the worst and anything above that ends up being a mercy. I expect to pump 6xs a day and for him to not nurse, so when he does, I'm thrilled. I expect to get up with him at night, so when he sleeps, I'm surprised. Adjusting my expectations has helped me cope, but it's also made me thankful when things go well.
Most days I feel like I'm drowning in this parenting pool. But then I realize how much I'm being changed and how much closer to the Father I am now and how much more I long for heaven, and I'm encouraged. All this to say, God uses our children to sanctify us, and for this, I am glad. (And really, really tired ;) )
Monday, October 23, 2017
Saturday, July 8, 2017
The birth of Alastair Nathaniel
It brings me so much joy to share the story of our little miracle man, Alastair Nathaniel. Here it is.
Let me just start with something I have said (and prayed) many times over the past couple years. "Let them know that this was all you, Lord." And surely, that is just what He has done in my life--with my sickness three years ago, with our house last year, and now with our son. Everything about Alastair's short life has been a miracle, from conception to birth. God has done miraculous things and I am overwhelmed at his kindness along the way.
We have no idea when Alastair was conceived, unlike Sybil. We were even pregnant when we went to the fertility doctor for the first time and didn't know it. With this, I wasn't convinced I had an accurate due date. Nonetheless, we knew he'd come sometime in June. I thought I'd go early for several reasons (I was having contractions for about a month, was 3cm dilated at 36 weeks, and had several other labor signs from my body). My parents both work and had to take time off so, they decided to come June 10th. When they got here, we had just treated our house for fleas because our cat somehow got them and therefore, so did we. Later on we discovered there were also chiggers everywhere around our house biting us every time we went outside. As you can imagine, my body was in high stress and I was "overdue" in my mind. Not to mention that my doctor was out of town, which also made me nervous. The previous week, my doula was out of town. Here I was, totally stressed out and willingly adding more stress by starting a house project (since we were waiting on baby anyway).
On June 13th, 14th and 15th, my dad and Andrew ripped up the floor in our dining room and hallways, painted the walls a different color and laid new flooring. My house was in disarray and we were all getting bit by chiggers. The morning of my due date, I woke up and purposed in my heart that I was going to choose joy. My mom, Sybil and I went for Five Daughter's donuts and coffee at our favorite spot. Then we watched a comedy that night and just relaxed. Then next morning (15th), Andrew and I went to my Dr's appointment and had my Dr. strip my membranes. I was almost dilated to a 5 at that point and she said she'd be surprised if I made it through the weekend. I left the office at peace, although there was a clock ticking in the back of my mind since it was Thursday and my dad had to leave on Saturday.
Around 4:30pm I started having real contractions. I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want to get people's hopes up. I started making dinner for everyone and when we sat down to eat, I had to stop and breathe through them. Sybil kept touching me and saying "what are you doing mama?" I told her not to bother me when my head was down--everyone at the table knew I was in labor at that point. Around 6:30pm I texted my doula and told her I was in labor. She came two hours later at 8:30pm and we labored in my bedroom while Sybil slept in hers and my parents watched a movie in the living room.
Around 10:30pm things were getting pretty intense. I remembered how bad transition was with my last labor and I didn't really want to be driving then, so I said we should head to the hospital. Miranda, my doula, called the Dr. to let her know we were on the way. I was coherent enough on the way to the hospital that I was still giving Andrew directions. We'd stop at a stop sign and I'd tell him I was about to have a contraction and not to move until I told him to go again! It worked so well that the car ride ended up not being horrible. When we arrived, the lady at the front desk was asking all sorts of questions to get us into the computer. I had several contractions during the admitting process and she got on the phone and said "Can Dr. Norman be sure to be in the building now? I have a patient of hers who has had several contractions here at the desk and she is going to go soon."
They put us in a triage room because all the L&D rooms were taken. When the triage nurse said she had to check me to see how far along I was, I told her I was at a nine. She rolled her eyes and said she still had to check. One second later she said, "Okay, whoa, you're at a 9 or you have a lip, I can't tell because if I check you any further I'm going to break your water." They promptly took me into a L&D room and my Dr. came right in. We discovered I had an anterior cervical lip and the baby was at station -1. The dr. offered to break my water, but my doula and I decided we'd labor some more and try to get the baby down. So, I labored for a few more hours in transition and my water was just not breaking. I remember being on the birth ball and hearing my L&D nurse say "wow, have you been working out this pregnancy?" I proudly yelled "yes!" as a contraction began. Finally around 2am, the Dr. came in and said I was complete and the baby had moved down more, so I asked her to break my water. I later found out that the baby was still at station -1 (which means he wasn't engaged or under my pubic bone). My doula was nervous about this because of the way Sybil's birth played out when she never engaged, so she began to pray over me.
I labored for another hour and a half before the Dr. came in again. My pushing hadn't been effective in the positions I was choosing so she told me to lay on my back and she wrapped a towel around the birthing bar above me. I tugged on one end of the towel and a nurse tugged on the other end. The game of tug of war ended up working so well that I only had to push for 30 minutes in that position before he was born. I remember her telling me to feel his head, which I did, and then it felt like seconds later he was on my chest!
From start to finish my labor was only 12 hours. Both Alastair and I were doing so well that we got released the next day (only spending 33 hrs in the hospital). God went before me in this in so many ways. Not once during labor and delivery did I experience fear. I fully believed Al was coming without complications. I have never felt stronger in my entire life. I was mentally exhausted, but physically I felt okay (which is totally insane after a natural birth). One verse I had clung to early on in regards to this labor was "So then it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy." (Rom. 9:16) I knew it was not my strength but God's mercy getting me through.
When I got home, I looked back at my labor prayer journal and realized that God literally answered EVERY one of my prayers. He is so faithful and kind and I am in awe of his hand moving in my life and Alastair's. I cannot wait to see what God has in store for little miracle man. Alastair Nathaniel means "Defender of the people" and "God has given." Our Father gives good gifts.
I have so much more to say about God's faithfulness in this, but I must stop now because I have to go feed baby boy. He's a champ and eats SO much!
Let me just start with something I have said (and prayed) many times over the past couple years. "Let them know that this was all you, Lord." And surely, that is just what He has done in my life--with my sickness three years ago, with our house last year, and now with our son. Everything about Alastair's short life has been a miracle, from conception to birth. God has done miraculous things and I am overwhelmed at his kindness along the way.
We have no idea when Alastair was conceived, unlike Sybil. We were even pregnant when we went to the fertility doctor for the first time and didn't know it. With this, I wasn't convinced I had an accurate due date. Nonetheless, we knew he'd come sometime in June. I thought I'd go early for several reasons (I was having contractions for about a month, was 3cm dilated at 36 weeks, and had several other labor signs from my body). My parents both work and had to take time off so, they decided to come June 10th. When they got here, we had just treated our house for fleas because our cat somehow got them and therefore, so did we. Later on we discovered there were also chiggers everywhere around our house biting us every time we went outside. As you can imagine, my body was in high stress and I was "overdue" in my mind. Not to mention that my doctor was out of town, which also made me nervous. The previous week, my doula was out of town. Here I was, totally stressed out and willingly adding more stress by starting a house project (since we were waiting on baby anyway).
On June 13th, 14th and 15th, my dad and Andrew ripped up the floor in our dining room and hallways, painted the walls a different color and laid new flooring. My house was in disarray and we were all getting bit by chiggers. The morning of my due date, I woke up and purposed in my heart that I was going to choose joy. My mom, Sybil and I went for Five Daughter's donuts and coffee at our favorite spot. Then we watched a comedy that night and just relaxed. Then next morning (15th), Andrew and I went to my Dr's appointment and had my Dr. strip my membranes. I was almost dilated to a 5 at that point and she said she'd be surprised if I made it through the weekend. I left the office at peace, although there was a clock ticking in the back of my mind since it was Thursday and my dad had to leave on Saturday.
Around 4:30pm I started having real contractions. I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want to get people's hopes up. I started making dinner for everyone and when we sat down to eat, I had to stop and breathe through them. Sybil kept touching me and saying "what are you doing mama?" I told her not to bother me when my head was down--everyone at the table knew I was in labor at that point. Around 6:30pm I texted my doula and told her I was in labor. She came two hours later at 8:30pm and we labored in my bedroom while Sybil slept in hers and my parents watched a movie in the living room.
Around 10:30pm things were getting pretty intense. I remembered how bad transition was with my last labor and I didn't really want to be driving then, so I said we should head to the hospital. Miranda, my doula, called the Dr. to let her know we were on the way. I was coherent enough on the way to the hospital that I was still giving Andrew directions. We'd stop at a stop sign and I'd tell him I was about to have a contraction and not to move until I told him to go again! It worked so well that the car ride ended up not being horrible. When we arrived, the lady at the front desk was asking all sorts of questions to get us into the computer. I had several contractions during the admitting process and she got on the phone and said "Can Dr. Norman be sure to be in the building now? I have a patient of hers who has had several contractions here at the desk and she is going to go soon."
They put us in a triage room because all the L&D rooms were taken. When the triage nurse said she had to check me to see how far along I was, I told her I was at a nine. She rolled her eyes and said she still had to check. One second later she said, "Okay, whoa, you're at a 9 or you have a lip, I can't tell because if I check you any further I'm going to break your water." They promptly took me into a L&D room and my Dr. came right in. We discovered I had an anterior cervical lip and the baby was at station -1. The dr. offered to break my water, but my doula and I decided we'd labor some more and try to get the baby down. So, I labored for a few more hours in transition and my water was just not breaking. I remember being on the birth ball and hearing my L&D nurse say "wow, have you been working out this pregnancy?" I proudly yelled "yes!" as a contraction began. Finally around 2am, the Dr. came in and said I was complete and the baby had moved down more, so I asked her to break my water. I later found out that the baby was still at station -1 (which means he wasn't engaged or under my pubic bone). My doula was nervous about this because of the way Sybil's birth played out when she never engaged, so she began to pray over me.
I labored for another hour and a half before the Dr. came in again. My pushing hadn't been effective in the positions I was choosing so she told me to lay on my back and she wrapped a towel around the birthing bar above me. I tugged on one end of the towel and a nurse tugged on the other end. The game of tug of war ended up working so well that I only had to push for 30 minutes in that position before he was born. I remember her telling me to feel his head, which I did, and then it felt like seconds later he was on my chest!
From start to finish my labor was only 12 hours. Both Alastair and I were doing so well that we got released the next day (only spending 33 hrs in the hospital). God went before me in this in so many ways. Not once during labor and delivery did I experience fear. I fully believed Al was coming without complications. I have never felt stronger in my entire life. I was mentally exhausted, but physically I felt okay (which is totally insane after a natural birth). One verse I had clung to early on in regards to this labor was "So then it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy." (Rom. 9:16) I knew it was not my strength but God's mercy getting me through.
When I got home, I looked back at my labor prayer journal and realized that God literally answered EVERY one of my prayers. He is so faithful and kind and I am in awe of his hand moving in my life and Alastair's. I cannot wait to see what God has in store for little miracle man. Alastair Nathaniel means "Defender of the people" and "God has given." Our Father gives good gifts.
I have so much more to say about God's faithfulness in this, but I must stop now because I have to go feed baby boy. He's a champ and eats SO much!
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
The end is so much like the beginning.
I am already at the end of my pregnancy. In fact, I thought maybe our baby would be here by now. But, here I sit impatiently waiting for his arrival, just as I waited for his conception, the morning sickness to pass, the knowledge of his sex and his health, his first movements, etc. This whole thing has been a waiting game.
Honestly, this pregnancy has flown by, even in all the waiting. With all things involved with pregnancy, health, birth and preparation, it's easy to lose sight of the one who will be in your arms at the end of it all. This week, I've had so many kind reminders from the Lord that this is not about me but about Him. This is all for His glory. Part of me had such a negative view for so long on life, that I can't believe he has sustained me and this child this whole pregnancy and answered so many prayers. I've learned so much about the Father's compassion and kindness through this journey. I went to acupuncture yesterday to induce labor and as I sat there, I realized the last time I was there was when I was doing acupuncture for infertility a year ago. It's simply amazing what He has done. And also how amazingly sad that we forget His works so quickly.
The journey I've been on even throughout this pregnancy has been one of great joy, fear and lots of healing. After my crazy birth with Sybil, my sickness and infertility, and just being a sinful human, I had a lot to process through in order to prepare for another birth--way more than I had imagined. Honestly, I think I had a little PTSD from Sybil's birth that I had to work through once faced with the reality of having another baby. I had to decide if I was going to do another C-section or attempt a VBAC. I then had to find a doctor who supported my decision. Not to mention the search for a doula who could support me in a VBAC who didn't cost a fortune. And in each of those decisions and searches, God revealed himself to me and directed me and calmed my fears. Now I'm at the end of this and He's calling me to trust him on when this child will arrive.
Over the past three weeks, my body has given me almost every sign that it could go into labor at any moment (except for my water breaking). This has been extremely exciting and also kind of frustrating. It's a constant mind game. Is it going to be today? Tomorrow? Next week? I'm so ready to meet this little one. I'm so ready to labor and birth (hopefully differently than the first time). Yet, again, He's calling me to wait and trust. Just like in the beginning of this, I still have no control whatsoever. This isn't about me. This is all about Him and His glory. He will do whatever brings Him the most glory. I'm just the vessel. I can't wait to see what He does with me and this baby. It's already been so beautiful.
Honestly, this pregnancy has flown by, even in all the waiting. With all things involved with pregnancy, health, birth and preparation, it's easy to lose sight of the one who will be in your arms at the end of it all. This week, I've had so many kind reminders from the Lord that this is not about me but about Him. This is all for His glory. Part of me had such a negative view for so long on life, that I can't believe he has sustained me and this child this whole pregnancy and answered so many prayers. I've learned so much about the Father's compassion and kindness through this journey. I went to acupuncture yesterday to induce labor and as I sat there, I realized the last time I was there was when I was doing acupuncture for infertility a year ago. It's simply amazing what He has done. And also how amazingly sad that we forget His works so quickly.
The journey I've been on even throughout this pregnancy has been one of great joy, fear and lots of healing. After my crazy birth with Sybil, my sickness and infertility, and just being a sinful human, I had a lot to process through in order to prepare for another birth--way more than I had imagined. Honestly, I think I had a little PTSD from Sybil's birth that I had to work through once faced with the reality of having another baby. I had to decide if I was going to do another C-section or attempt a VBAC. I then had to find a doctor who supported my decision. Not to mention the search for a doula who could support me in a VBAC who didn't cost a fortune. And in each of those decisions and searches, God revealed himself to me and directed me and calmed my fears. Now I'm at the end of this and He's calling me to trust him on when this child will arrive.
Over the past three weeks, my body has given me almost every sign that it could go into labor at any moment (except for my water breaking). This has been extremely exciting and also kind of frustrating. It's a constant mind game. Is it going to be today? Tomorrow? Next week? I'm so ready to meet this little one. I'm so ready to labor and birth (hopefully differently than the first time). Yet, again, He's calling me to wait and trust. Just like in the beginning of this, I still have no control whatsoever. This isn't about me. This is all about Him and His glory. He will do whatever brings Him the most glory. I'm just the vessel. I can't wait to see what He does with me and this baby. It's already been so beautiful.
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
All mercy, all grace--some good news!
Let me start with something important that maybe some of you don't know yet; I'M PREGNANT!
For more on that, visit this post.
The reason we haven't been super public with this AMAZING news is because this pregnancy is so sacred to us. We, or mainly I, really struggled with finding contentment the last two and a half years during my sickness and infertility. Now that we are miraculously pregnant (and almost halfway done with this pregnancy!), I feel like I'm in a better place to talk about it. There's so many factors to why I've been quiet about this. Here are some things I've been learning that I don't think are only linked to this pregnancy, but life in general.
1. I'm kind of over social media.
A while back, I did a social media fast and felt like my life was enriched without it. Social media became simply a time-waster for me and I always walked away discouraged after I was on it. So, I'm still a member of Facebook and go on occasionally when I need something, but for the most part, I never post (aside from this blog). Instagram is a different story for me. I follow like 70 people and they are all people I care about. If I don't let you be my Instagram friend, it's not because I don't love you, it's because I simply need to limit who is in my social media life. This brings me to a point about social media--for me, it is an avenue to communicate to the people who know about my real life, not those I haven't talked to in 10 years.
2. I'm protective over this wonderful miracle.
I feel like in my stage of life, pregnancy is just another norm. While we were trying to get pregnant for so long, I'd see people post every day on Facebook about their pregnancies. That was hard for me. When such big news is posted on social media, it loses it's exclusivity and becomes just common knowledge. When we got pregnant, I had a really hard time sharing it with people. This was huge for us and such a miracle that we needed time to ponder it in our hearts and keep it sacred. I felt like because my journey through sickness and a couple years of infertility had only been shared with a few close friends, family and community, that this pregnancy should be the same way.
3. I'm more sensitive to those who struggle with infertility or who have lost a child now.
Me not posting, or being hesitant to share this news, has been for the sake of others too. I was just on the other side of this a few months ago and I know how dark it can be. I wanted to be sensitive to my friends struggling in the silence of their homes. And now that I have shared, I hope this is an encouragement to all those struggling--miracles do happen! And even if they don't, there is a very real God listening to our hearts and giving us what we need when we need it, not necessarily when we want it.
But now, I am ready to share it with the world! We are having a miracle baby in June and we are so thankful to the Lord that he has given us another child. This is all mercy, all grace.
For more on that, visit this post.
The reason we haven't been super public with this AMAZING news is because this pregnancy is so sacred to us. We, or mainly I, really struggled with finding contentment the last two and a half years during my sickness and infertility. Now that we are miraculously pregnant (and almost halfway done with this pregnancy!), I feel like I'm in a better place to talk about it. There's so many factors to why I've been quiet about this. Here are some things I've been learning that I don't think are only linked to this pregnancy, but life in general.
1. I'm kind of over social media.
A while back, I did a social media fast and felt like my life was enriched without it. Social media became simply a time-waster for me and I always walked away discouraged after I was on it. So, I'm still a member of Facebook and go on occasionally when I need something, but for the most part, I never post (aside from this blog). Instagram is a different story for me. I follow like 70 people and they are all people I care about. If I don't let you be my Instagram friend, it's not because I don't love you, it's because I simply need to limit who is in my social media life. This brings me to a point about social media--for me, it is an avenue to communicate to the people who know about my real life, not those I haven't talked to in 10 years.
2. I'm protective over this wonderful miracle.
I feel like in my stage of life, pregnancy is just another norm. While we were trying to get pregnant for so long, I'd see people post every day on Facebook about their pregnancies. That was hard for me. When such big news is posted on social media, it loses it's exclusivity and becomes just common knowledge. When we got pregnant, I had a really hard time sharing it with people. This was huge for us and such a miracle that we needed time to ponder it in our hearts and keep it sacred. I felt like because my journey through sickness and a couple years of infertility had only been shared with a few close friends, family and community, that this pregnancy should be the same way.
3. I'm more sensitive to those who struggle with infertility or who have lost a child now.
Me not posting, or being hesitant to share this news, has been for the sake of others too. I was just on the other side of this a few months ago and I know how dark it can be. I wanted to be sensitive to my friends struggling in the silence of their homes. And now that I have shared, I hope this is an encouragement to all those struggling--miracles do happen! And even if they don't, there is a very real God listening to our hearts and giving us what we need when we need it, not necessarily when we want it.
But now, I am ready to share it with the world! We are having a miracle baby in June and we are so thankful to the Lord that he has given us another child. This is all mercy, all grace.
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
Make Them Know It Was You, Lord
My prayer through it all had been "Lord, make them know that this was you and not us."
When we miraculously bought a house in one of the hottest cities in the U.S. this summer, that was my prayer. And He did. He let everyone know it was Him and not us by giving us the house for $15,000 under the listing price with zero closing costs on our behalf.
Then with my constant fertility battle, that was my prayer too. From the very beginning of us finding out it might not be possible to have more children, I knew I didn't want to do IVF. I have convictions about it that I won't get into here, but I also just knew, that for us, because we already have one biological child, we weren't going down that road. I figured if we were going to spend that many thousands of dollars, we might as well spend them on adoption, which is something we've always wanted anyway.
Two months ago, I got to a breaking point, or rather a point of acceptance. I finally sought out a fertility doctor via a friend and made an appointment. I thought that by meeting with her, we could find more answers and see what kind of options we had for moving forward. I really thought I was ready to move forward. (Although, I still had no idea how far down the fertility road we wanted to walk.)
On September 27th, we met with her. She was amazing--so knowledgeable (as most doctors are), incredibly sensitive, and perfectly professional and personal at the same time. After my history of doctors talking over me and around me and giving me no answers, this was so refreshing. She told Andrew and me that my ovaries and uterus looked just fine, but she was unsure about my tubes. She basically affirmed everything I had thought these past two years--my tubes were damaged from my past infection and were most likely not repairable. She told us that we had three options: HSG, Laparoscopic surgery, or IVF. We obviously ruled out IVF right away. Then she said the HSG would be somewhat pointless because it would only tell me if my tubes were open or blocked, it wouldn't reveal the state of my cilia in my tubes or the fimbria (finger-like structures at the end of my fallopian tubes). So, at the end of the meeting, Andrew and I walked away with two days to discuss the lap option and get back to the doctor.
I think I cried every minute of those two days. I felt like suddenly there was this clock ticking on an issue I had been struggling with freely for so long. I felt so much pressure for some reason. I called two dear friends who both walked down the fertility road (surgeries, tests, hormones, IUI's, etc) and now have children. They both had so much wisdom to offer. They basically said the same thing: "less is more," and "Linds, once you start down this road, it's hard to know when to stop."
After buying a house, getting used to a new city, trying to get our Airbnb up and running, and the normal stress of daily life with a four year old, I felt like I couldn't willingly enter into more stress with this fertility thing. If we were going to do something, we were going to do the lap for diagnostic purposes. But that meant spending our full deductible and maybe still walking away with nothing fixed. So, Andrew and I both felt so strongly that we needed to wait on this. Wait.
Wait? Isn't that what we had been doing these past two years? Hadn't we been waiting for a child naturally, as I'd tried everything in my own power to help (charting, acupuncture, Chinese herbs, dietary restrictions, etc.)? And then we were just going to wait more. Although waiting made no logical sense for a woman in her thirties trying to get pregnant, I just knew we were supposed to wait. The moment I told our doctor that we were going to wait on the surgery, I felt peace--so much peace--and the tears stopped for a bit.
Here's the thing though, my heart didn't really change. I still begged God every day to meet me in this struggle and give me contentment and take away sadness. I still longed for another child, but I heard him calling me to wait more. Isn't most of life spent waiting anyway? Waiting to finish school. Waiting for a job, a husband, a child. Waiting for a change. Waiting for a Savior. We wait. That's what we do. So I waited.
And then, I waited for my period. And then apparently, I waited a little bit more. And then, I started to wonder..."am I waiting for the wrong thing? Is this wait over?" And then, for the first time in probably over two years and a dozen pregnancy tests, I saw a plus sign. It turned positive within literally one second of me peeing on that stick. And all I could do was laugh.
I thought, "Are you serious, God?" I literally don't know how this happened. I had stopped charting, stopped acupuncture, stopped Chinese herbs, stopped ovulating (or so I thought), and stopped trying. I had been rebelling against it all. I have no idea when we conceived--none whatsoever. And so once again, He answered my prayer: "Lord, make them know that this was you and not us." Clearly, He wanted all the glory on this one.
To be continued...
When we miraculously bought a house in one of the hottest cities in the U.S. this summer, that was my prayer. And He did. He let everyone know it was Him and not us by giving us the house for $15,000 under the listing price with zero closing costs on our behalf.
Then with my constant fertility battle, that was my prayer too. From the very beginning of us finding out it might not be possible to have more children, I knew I didn't want to do IVF. I have convictions about it that I won't get into here, but I also just knew, that for us, because we already have one biological child, we weren't going down that road. I figured if we were going to spend that many thousands of dollars, we might as well spend them on adoption, which is something we've always wanted anyway.
Two months ago, I got to a breaking point, or rather a point of acceptance. I finally sought out a fertility doctor via a friend and made an appointment. I thought that by meeting with her, we could find more answers and see what kind of options we had for moving forward. I really thought I was ready to move forward. (Although, I still had no idea how far down the fertility road we wanted to walk.)
On September 27th, we met with her. She was amazing--so knowledgeable (as most doctors are), incredibly sensitive, and perfectly professional and personal at the same time. After my history of doctors talking over me and around me and giving me no answers, this was so refreshing. She told Andrew and me that my ovaries and uterus looked just fine, but she was unsure about my tubes. She basically affirmed everything I had thought these past two years--my tubes were damaged from my past infection and were most likely not repairable. She told us that we had three options: HSG, Laparoscopic surgery, or IVF. We obviously ruled out IVF right away. Then she said the HSG would be somewhat pointless because it would only tell me if my tubes were open or blocked, it wouldn't reveal the state of my cilia in my tubes or the fimbria (finger-like structures at the end of my fallopian tubes). So, at the end of the meeting, Andrew and I walked away with two days to discuss the lap option and get back to the doctor.
I think I cried every minute of those two days. I felt like suddenly there was this clock ticking on an issue I had been struggling with freely for so long. I felt so much pressure for some reason. I called two dear friends who both walked down the fertility road (surgeries, tests, hormones, IUI's, etc) and now have children. They both had so much wisdom to offer. They basically said the same thing: "less is more," and "Linds, once you start down this road, it's hard to know when to stop."
After buying a house, getting used to a new city, trying to get our Airbnb up and running, and the normal stress of daily life with a four year old, I felt like I couldn't willingly enter into more stress with this fertility thing. If we were going to do something, we were going to do the lap for diagnostic purposes. But that meant spending our full deductible and maybe still walking away with nothing fixed. So, Andrew and I both felt so strongly that we needed to wait on this. Wait.
Wait? Isn't that what we had been doing these past two years? Hadn't we been waiting for a child naturally, as I'd tried everything in my own power to help (charting, acupuncture, Chinese herbs, dietary restrictions, etc.)? And then we were just going to wait more. Although waiting made no logical sense for a woman in her thirties trying to get pregnant, I just knew we were supposed to wait. The moment I told our doctor that we were going to wait on the surgery, I felt peace--so much peace--and the tears stopped for a bit.
Here's the thing though, my heart didn't really change. I still begged God every day to meet me in this struggle and give me contentment and take away sadness. I still longed for another child, but I heard him calling me to wait more. Isn't most of life spent waiting anyway? Waiting to finish school. Waiting for a job, a husband, a child. Waiting for a change. Waiting for a Savior. We wait. That's what we do. So I waited.
And then, I waited for my period. And then apparently, I waited a little bit more. And then, I started to wonder..."am I waiting for the wrong thing? Is this wait over?" And then, for the first time in probably over two years and a dozen pregnancy tests, I saw a plus sign. It turned positive within literally one second of me peeing on that stick. And all I could do was laugh.
I thought, "Are you serious, God?" I literally don't know how this happened. I had stopped charting, stopped acupuncture, stopped Chinese herbs, stopped ovulating (or so I thought), and stopped trying. I had been rebelling against it all. I have no idea when we conceived--none whatsoever. And so once again, He answered my prayer: "Lord, make them know that this was you and not us." Clearly, He wanted all the glory on this one.
To be continued...
Saturday, September 10, 2016
We bought a house and we are forward-moving
Holy moly, it's been too long since I last blogged. Mainly it's because we've been SO busy searching for and buying a house!
The market here in Nashville is insane. But, thankfully, we found a house after six months of diligently looking, and we're all moved in! The last two months have been a blur--having our first house fall through, putting an offer on this house, negotiating, signing, closing, going on vacation the day after signing, moving in with a sprained ankle, re-doing the kitchen without my husband here, and buying double the furniture for our Airbnb apartment upstairs and our space downstairs. There's been so much, but this post is not about all the stress and all the details of the house. This post is about God's faithfulness in a dream he put in our hearts.
Two years ago, Andrew and I decided we really wanted to invest in people by hosting them in our home. We've been doing this since our first year of marriage, but we never actually had enough space to do it well. People would sleep on our couch or an air mattress and we'd all share one bathroom in the past. Although, doable, it wasn't the most comfortable. So, Drew and I decided we wanted to buy a house and do Airbnb. We researched cities, we talked to others doing Airbnb, we stayed in Airbnb's, we dreamed about our space and the perfect house that would allow for it, and we set out to do it.
When we moved to Nashville with this dream in mind, things did not go our way. Our move here was insanely messy (see here). The housing search felt like a waste of so many hours when houses were sold before they were even on the market. Our realtor switch and lender switch in mid-search was crazy stressful. All of these things were working against us. We really, seriously, felt the Enemy did not want us to buy a house and host people. I'm so thankful we did not give up. Looking back, I see God's hand in so many things. Here are a few:
-This once-upon-a-time-duplex-turned-single-family-home was not appealing to others because the upstairs was so unlike the rest of the house, but for us, it was EXACTLY what we were looking for. (It has indoor and outdoor entrances to the upstairs!)
-It was just out of our price range. Enough for us to offer low and negotiate and get it for exactly what we were willing to pay.
-It is off every major freeway in Nashville, which means those who stay with us can get to anywhere in Nashville in 10-20 minutes.
-It was livable, but not perfect. We really wanted a house move-in ready that had all the potential to do the projects living in our head. This house is FULL of potential and we've already begun some of our projects (which are so fun and so time-consuming)!
All of this is to say God is faithful in putting dreams in our hearts and helping us achieve them, even if the process is long and hard. And then there are times where dreams we have do not come true and are out of our grasp--we're here dealing with those too. He is still faithful and all things are in His timing. I'm so thankful that He has allowed us to pursue this dream and that we get to watch it unfold before us. We cannot wait to host people soon! Come visit and stay with us when our space is ready!
The market here in Nashville is insane. But, thankfully, we found a house after six months of diligently looking, and we're all moved in! The last two months have been a blur--having our first house fall through, putting an offer on this house, negotiating, signing, closing, going on vacation the day after signing, moving in with a sprained ankle, re-doing the kitchen without my husband here, and buying double the furniture for our Airbnb apartment upstairs and our space downstairs. There's been so much, but this post is not about all the stress and all the details of the house. This post is about God's faithfulness in a dream he put in our hearts.
Two years ago, Andrew and I decided we really wanted to invest in people by hosting them in our home. We've been doing this since our first year of marriage, but we never actually had enough space to do it well. People would sleep on our couch or an air mattress and we'd all share one bathroom in the past. Although, doable, it wasn't the most comfortable. So, Drew and I decided we wanted to buy a house and do Airbnb. We researched cities, we talked to others doing Airbnb, we stayed in Airbnb's, we dreamed about our space and the perfect house that would allow for it, and we set out to do it.
When we moved to Nashville with this dream in mind, things did not go our way. Our move here was insanely messy (see here). The housing search felt like a waste of so many hours when houses were sold before they were even on the market. Our realtor switch and lender switch in mid-search was crazy stressful. All of these things were working against us. We really, seriously, felt the Enemy did not want us to buy a house and host people. I'm so thankful we did not give up. Looking back, I see God's hand in so many things. Here are a few:
-This once-upon-a-time-duplex-turned-single-family-home was not appealing to others because the upstairs was so unlike the rest of the house, but for us, it was EXACTLY what we were looking for. (It has indoor and outdoor entrances to the upstairs!)
-It was just out of our price range. Enough for us to offer low and negotiate and get it for exactly what we were willing to pay.
-It is off every major freeway in Nashville, which means those who stay with us can get to anywhere in Nashville in 10-20 minutes.
-It was livable, but not perfect. We really wanted a house move-in ready that had all the potential to do the projects living in our head. This house is FULL of potential and we've already begun some of our projects (which are so fun and so time-consuming)!
All of this is to say God is faithful in putting dreams in our hearts and helping us achieve them, even if the process is long and hard. And then there are times where dreams we have do not come true and are out of our grasp--we're here dealing with those too. He is still faithful and all things are in His timing. I'm so thankful that He has allowed us to pursue this dream and that we get to watch it unfold before us. We cannot wait to host people soon! Come visit and stay with us when our space is ready!
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Fill me up to the tippy-tippy top
When my daughter comes to me, asking for juice or chocolate milk in her favorite cup, I most often oblige. Her one request following, always remains the same: "Fill it up to the tippy-tippy top!" Most of the time, however, I know she does not need a full cup of sugary drink, so I fill it to the appropriate amount (in my opinion). This is considered, by most people, good parenting. I give her what she needs, not what she wants.
I was reminded the other day that I often ask God to fill my cup to the "tippy-tippy top," too. But, God is not like me (thankfully). He is completely Holy. Set apart. Different. He instead hears my plea and answers quickly. He doesn't see a half-way filled cup as even an option. He fills my cup until it's overflowing--He goes past the "tippy-tippy top."
Ps. 116 "What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord."
Ps. 23 "You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows."
I need only to lift my cup up and ask, continually. He will always fill me, because it's for my good. He's not a human like me, deciding that only a little bit of Him is enough. He's God, and He's already given all of himself to me in Jesus. With faith like a child--even just like my own child--I hold my cup up today and ask, "To the tippy-tippy top, God?"
I was reminded the other day that I often ask God to fill my cup to the "tippy-tippy top," too. But, God is not like me (thankfully). He is completely Holy. Set apart. Different. He instead hears my plea and answers quickly. He doesn't see a half-way filled cup as even an option. He fills my cup until it's overflowing--He goes past the "tippy-tippy top."
Ps. 116 "What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord."
Ps. 23 "You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows."
I need only to lift my cup up and ask, continually. He will always fill me, because it's for my good. He's not a human like me, deciding that only a little bit of Him is enough. He's God, and He's already given all of himself to me in Jesus. With faith like a child--even just like my own child--I hold my cup up today and ask, "To the tippy-tippy top, God?"
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