Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts

Monday, January 23

A Lovely Birth Story

Hello everyone! She's here!!

Warning: Kinda, sorta, REALLY long. ;)


Apparently Tuesday was a good day to have a baby!
But barely. She arrived Tuesday night at 11:04. She was six pounds four ounces and nineteen inches long. She has light brown/blonde hair with some light blonde and red in it and really light eyebrows and lashes. So we're not too sure which way her hair will go. 

I have to tell you a little about the meaning of her name. We've liked her first name since we were pregnant with our second baby, Son. We didn't know what we were having so that was our choice if it was a girl. Then we still liked it through our third pregnancy, again a boy. And now, we still liked it when we found out that Jelly Bean was a girl!! I had looked up the meaning to the name years ago and really hadn't given it much thought again and didn't remember what it meant. Anyway, we picked her middle name based on the meaning, it means birth or born (in reference to Christ's birth) and I just loved it. In the hospital, Hubby asked me what her first name meant and I had no clue anymore, so I just looked it up again and the Greek and French origins of her name mean "bright light" or "torch." So her full name could mean a bright light or torch is born! How amazing!! God's got plans for this little one, let me tell you! ;)

So that's it. She's here. She's great. 

Huh? 
What?
You want to hear our birth story?
Well....
Okay fine. ;)

So Wednesday I posted about being up all night with contractions. They continued as I had written all day. They were every five minutes, very uncomfortable. I couldn't sleep through them, but I could still walk and talk through most of them. I was in early labor and I knew it. Around noon I started getting frustrated that there wasn't any change. I would even have ten minute breaks here and there with no contractions at all. So my friend Rachelle was so kind to come over and hang out with the kids and I. Then she pulled out her stroller, loaded up her kids and asked promptly "Ready to go for a walk?" We walked around the block a couple times and even ran a little at one point. 

I also cleaned my bathrooms, cleared out all the laundry hampers, picked out clothes for all the kids for the week, cleaned the couches and vacuumed. Just a few last minute chores to get things moving. ;)

Well things were still the exact same until around 3:30 or 4:00 when I started to notice the intensity of the contractions increasing, however not the frequency. At this point I found myself still wanting to walk and move around a lot, but had to lean on something through a contraction and couldn't really focus well to talk through them. 

Hubby had come home from work early and started to ask every 30 minutes "Time to go?" I told him I would absolutely NOT go to the hospital only to be sent home because my contractions are not consistent or frequent enough. That's what they told me with Baby and I was at 8 cm when I went BACK to the hospital a few hours later. So this time, I was not leaving until I knew I was already far along like that. So we waited.

Fed the kids. Bathed them. Read stories. Explained what was going on and that we could be taking mommy to the Doctor while they were sleeping if Jelly Bean told us it was time. Daughter was a little nervous about me being away, but really excited for her baby sister to come. Then we sat down to wait. I worked on a blanket and read a book. But then I noticed that the contractions seemed to subside a bit! It was around seven at night and I started to get frustrated again that they weren't progressing. I had already called my neighbor to be ready that night and hubby had already told his work he'd be out the next day. I started to think maybe she won't come tonight! 

Hubby suggested that I lay down and sleep since I'd been up since midnight, but I didn't want to because I just wanted to keep things going! So I paced the house. For almost an hour I walked around, stopping to lean on a chair, swaying from side to side through contractions every five minutes. Around 8:30, I was still frustrated and very tired. So I decided to just give up and lay down. I fell asleep on the couch almost immediately. About 25 minutes later, my eyes opened so fast as my whole body folded in half. My stomach tightened hard and my legs were shaking as the worst contraction yet rolled through. It lasted for two minutes and after that I knew she was coming that night. 
The contractions...ahh the contractions. 
They were excruciating, the pain was so deep, rolling through my back and my abdomen, shooting violent shakes down my legs. I couldn't hold back the large tears that came with each one, my jaw clenched tight and my face was hot with exhaustion from this pain that couldn't be escaped. 
I had been mentally preparing myself for labor for weeks. I didn't want an epidural (although I was sure I'd give in the second I walked through the hospital doors) and I knew I wanted to stay home as long as possible, even though the same plan with Baby had still led to five hours laboring in the hospital before he was born.
Every time I'd have a contraction I'd sing softly to myself "It is well" or repeat her name, reminding myself this was so minor a pain compared to the joy I'd be experiencing so soon. I'd tell myself that I was not at the limit of pain that God had designed my body to bear and I'd remember all the hours I'd spent praying for the tiny life inside me. It ended up being a really mental and sometimes even spiritual with the amount of prayers I was sending up, battle. Sometimes I'd think "If I were at the hospital, I could already have an epidural and be sleeping through most of this." But I'd remind myself that my body was designed to endure this and if Jesus could experience the suffering He had for us, I could surely endure this labor to welcome our baby into this life. 

We decided to wait about an hour before going to the hospital, about the same as what we'd done with Baby. I had about seven more contractions, but the last three were almost back to back. We called our neighbor, checked on the kids and we were off by 10:15. We got to the hospital and signed in at admitting by 10:30. We were sent up to labor and delivery and taken to a room. I was having contractions every 1-2 minutes, each one lasting two minutes. I was crying and moaning and groaning, gritting my teeth, and often times thinking that I just needed to calm down. I changed into the open backed hospital gown and got into bed and they checked me immediately. It was 10:42. I was dilated to seven, although they said it was hard to tell exactly because my water bag was bulging (remember the high fluid numbers?). The baby's head was no longer on my cervix (it was the day and week before, causing a lot of pressure), but was being pushed up because the bag of waters was bulging down. That explains why everything felt so slow progressing all day...it was moving along nicely, but I wasn't feeling that intense pressure normally felt during active labor. So they laid me on my side to try to relieve some of the bulging and then left to start a chart and get an IV going. They asked if I wanted an epidural and I said I did if they thought they could get it in time, because by this point all of my self control was gone and I just wanted to sleep. I kept saying "I'm so tired...I'm so so tired!"

As soon as all the nurses had left the room, I felt a pop and then warm fluid rushed all over the bed, down my legs. There was so much fluid it just kept pouring out. Hubby went to the hall to tell the nurse and as soon as all the fluid had stopped, I immediately felt the most overwhelming and painful pressure right at my cervix. It felt as if a bowling ball slammed against my cervix out of nowhere. I literally felt like bones were crushing and pulling apart at the same time. I looked at the clock right when my water broke. It was 10:55pm.

The nurses were telling me to relax and not to push at all because we were waiting for the Doctor. I kept saying I was sorry and that I was trying and I kept telling them I wasn't pushing. It felt like something was inside me (well, duh) pushing the baby. My main nurse looked at me and said that if she had to deliver the baby, everything would be fine and that she'd done it numerous times before. I just nodded and didn't take the time to explain that I wasn't really concerned with who was delivering my baby, I just didn't want her to end up on the floor. I felt the nurse pushing back on the baby's head and I knew she was holding her head inside as she was talking to me. A minute later she said "Okay, head's out!" 



I was surprised because I had been trying so very hard not to push, to hold her inside. But at the same time I wasn't surprised at all because I had felt her head pushing despite all my best efforts. The nurse told me to push one time, I did and Jelly Bean was born. I remember looking at Hubby's face and laughing because he was so excited, nervous, surprised and shocked at the whole situation. Bean's time of birth was 11:04, exactly 22 minutes after I climbed onto that hospital bed and 34 minutes after we arrived at the hospital. Everything happened so fast, so different than the other kids...so unexpected. 

The Doctor didn't make it for delivery. He arrived 20 minutes after birth. Our friend and photographer, who I had planned to be there for a little bit before the birth as well, arrived about three minutes after the birth. 


**By the way, thank you so much Sarah for being a part of this day, this incredibly special time with our family and for capturing such perfect moments. And if you haven't thought about or decided to have your birth photographed professionally, I would HIGHLY recommend it. I wish I would have done it with all my kids...the pictures are just priceless**

I didn't have an IV hooked up. There was no time to start any of my paperwork, the nurses didn't even have time to break down the bed. The monitors only had about two minutes of contractions and heart rates recorded. It was a blur, but it was an incredible, wonderful blur.


Seeing her sweet, tiny little face with her paper thin ears and cheeks covered in peach fuzz was overwhelming, to say the least. She's my fourth baby, so I knew this was coming, but it never tires. The wonder is never worn, the magic is never old. The mystery of birth and life is revealed new each time and each time I whisper to myself how I cannot imagine not having done this one more time. 
I marvel that Jesus actually knit her together...pieced her precious little self tiny bit by tiny bit, deep in my body. At the same time, He also nurtured a seed of love planted deep in my soul. All her soft little flutters, every time I heard her strong heart beat, every thought of her that passed through my mind were all orchestrated together to create a love that was exploding long before I held her fragile hands, touching each slender finger. 



I could go on and on describing the moment, the experience, the feelings and mostly, the baby. My child. My youngest child. 
But really, it is summed up so perfectly in such an ordinary way. I needn't do all this blabbering. Just look at her. Just know that Jesus designed her and allowed us to meet her, to hold her, to know her, to love her. I don't need to say much...she tells the story in her soft little noises that sound like a kitten, her sweet baby smell, the velvety smoothness of her skin.


I really can't say anything to do her...Jesus' handiwork justice.
So I'll just leave it at this...the two words that run through my mind all the time.
She's Lovely.

Saturday, September 17

Broken and Sacrificed

The last few weeks of my life, hmm...I take that back, perhaps the last couple months, have truly been a whirlwind of emotions. Some of the reasons I feel quite validated being emotional over and some of the others I feel that I just need a good slap across the face. Nonetheless, the emotions, both good and bad, have definitely been there. 
I have been trying to get back to the roots of who I am...really trying to become the person I love. Honestly, as silly as it sounds, blogging has been a big part of this effort. I love to write and it is such an effortless and natural way for me to communicate and express myself. I started exercising again when Son was about six months old, but I wasn't exceptionally dedicated. After watching this season's Biggest Loser, I have really been feeling the tug to get up and get serious about my health. I know that my children look to me to be the example for them and how they should live their lives, and I want to make all the best choices possible. So, inspired by the Biggest Loser, I started trying to figure out an affordable and motivating way to get moving. Right around the same time, a couple friends mentioned the Disney half-marathon that they were participating in. After reading about it, I realized that the fees are a little out of my league this time around, especially considering that I am really not a seasoned runner and don't want to put so much $$ into it before I feel it is really "my thing." However, I am training with a couple friends who are doing it, and I am going to try my best to keep up and get in tip top shape! Woo hoo! I have already felt a surge of energy and just been in a better mood this week after only running three times! So I do feel really excited about that!
We have also started to go to church again. This was a huge burden on my heart. We were going pretty regularly until we moved in September. Our old churches were further than we wanted to drive and somehow, every Sunday there seemed to be a new excuse why we couldn't go. Well, this last Sunday, we finally stopped making excuses and went to church. We went to one that wasn't our top choice, but the service turned out to be great and the kids really enjoyed themselves. It was so exciting to see Daughter come out of her class and show me the craft she made and tell me all about what she did. Her age is so incredible right now; she is changing and growing up, literally right in front of my eyes. It is overwhelming!
So there you have it...life has been throwing quite a few curve balls lately and God has been teaching me to lean on Him and find the lesson through it all. I have learned to not only pray that God would reveal the lesson He wants me to learn, but to also show me how to use it. I have learned about envy, gossip and greed and how they can be poison to surrounding people and relationships. Through these situations I am learning to use those lessons to be a better person and to be the friend to others that I want in my life. 
Through blogging I have learned to be transparent and how much it is appreciated when you are honest and truthful about who you are; people are grateful to see that everyone else is having a bad hair day, has naughty children sometimes, or just wants to cry (or scream). It is a protective wall that we sometimes put up - but it is not our real lives. We do not bake cookies and make crafts every day and our children are not always smiling with pressed clothes and matching shoes. I think we all need to see the reality that is life and learn that it is nothing to be shameful of; it is an honesty than can help us lean on one another and learn from each other.
When I first was reading about the half marathon, I was disappointed that we wouldn't be able to afford the registration fee. I thought "I want a goal, a purpose; something to work towards, attain and complete." I felt pangs of jealousy and had to argue them back down. I was driving, running errands, and thinking about this, when I literally heard God tell me 
"Hush, you have a goal...reach it."
I knew right there that God wanted me to focus the devotion that I had building for the race on Him. I am already running a race and He desires that I am looking only to Him for purpose. Wow...I couldn't believe that I had let this disappointed feeling consume my heart, even for just the short time it did. I realized that it had taken my eyes away from my Lord, and that was unpleasing. I asked God to help guide me back to my path, to my race, and to help me run it with fervor and pride. I have His name on my chest and I will hold my head high and run for Him. My race right now is to focus on becoming the beacon that He created me to be. So now, when I run in the mornings with the girls (and my hollering young children), I am trying to focus on Jesus. I have been humming hymns and worship songs, admiring the splendor of the early morning, and praying for God to push me to the end. No really, that prayer is often overtaking the humming. And it is fair to say that the prayer has very quickly become a desperate plea for help or an ambulance. ;o) Still, it has been glorious. 
And my final lesson could very well be that slap across the face that I spoke of earlier. In church on Sunday, the Pastor read from Numbers 11. We went through the whole chapter, and let me tell you, if anyone ever says God has no sense of humor, this is the chapter to share. Anyway, for me, the entire impact of the chapter was summed up in the very first verse: Numbers 11:1 Now when the people complained, it displeased the Lord; for the Lord heard it and His anger was aroused. 
Wow, I always thought it was just a pet peeve of parents! But no, our complaining is displeasing to and angers the Lord! Just sit on that for a minute. Pastor Gary went on to explain quite a few points, one of which was that when we are discontent and complaining, it is a sign that we are far from God. Honestly, my eyes got a little misty when he said that. I have been complaining a lot lately, about anything and everything! I don't mean to and I really don't consider myself much of a complainer, which proved to me even more that it really is a sign of distance from the Lord. And doesn't that just make perfect sense? If God created us the way we are, down to our very fiber and number of hairs on our head, if He carefully chose and placed us in each situation in our lives and thoughtfully set us on the path He desired for us, how insulting and inconsiderate is it for us to be discontent with His decisions? 
That is really us questioning the Creator of the Universe, the Son of God, our Comforter, Advocate, our Faithful and True Deliverer, our King of Kings, Morning Star and Master. Our feelings of discontent are us being discontent with our Heavenly Father, the only One who has never had any other interest than our eternity and well-being in mind! How can we be discontent?? 
Pastor Gary challenged us to go one day without complaining about anything. Kenny and I are starting tomorrow. ;o) We said that yesterday and the day before, each day trying and failing. How wonderful that even with our discontentment, and even though I may drift, my Savior is still right where He has and will always be. Waiting for me with his arms wide open to hold me and accept me as I am and to help me be a better beacon for Him.
The past couple months have been filled with so many less than pleasant circumstances. The past couple months have broken me in so many ways. However, the Lord had lifted me up on His shoulders and is teaching me to give my life as a sacrifice. I did that when I was younger, and now I am learning to remit control to the One who deserves it all. I have been broken and sacrificed.

Monday, September 5

Reflections

The sun was lazy to rise this morning.
It hid behind big clouds, heavy with a late summer's rain.
The sky however, was a magnificent testament to the Creator's work. Jesus was not lazy this morning. He was hard at work, pulling the clouds, the rain, the soft breezes together to portray His glory.


To remind weary souls upon waking that He is there.
He is always there.
Here.
Around.
When we are sleeping, He is not.
He is at work, steadily, quietly.
I opened the door and smelled the rain, felt the breeze on my face.
I stepped out into the soft wet falling from above, still in my sleep shirt, not feeling or seeing anything but holiness.
Everything was being gently washed, the quiet drops taking the dust and grime away.
I closed my eyes and felt them fall on my face, my hair, my shirt. My toes felt the cool, damp ground and then the soft and warm breeze kissed my cheeks.
What a beautiful morning.

I returned inside, opened all the curtains and blinds to share with my family this serenity just outside.
I could hear the birds calling quietly to one another. Almost whispering. Perhaps they are also exclaiming God's glory.
No cars drove by, no dogs barked. The children slept in late, cozy in their rooms darkened by the clouds.
As if the entire world has stopped moving, creeping softly about, holding their breath, barely uttering a whisper.
No one wants to break the scene of peaceful majesty we have been gifted today.
Thank you for this morning.
This calm.
Beauty.
Quiet.
So much is said in silence.
So much is communicated when we stop talking, stop thinking.
When we barely breath.
Sit, waiting, listening, feeling...
Knowing that He is our God
Father
Maker.
We wait on Him,
stop looking within.
Stop trying,
keep praying.
Give up on ourselves,
Never give up on God.
When our voice is quiet,
when our spirit is hushed,
that's when His still, small voice
becomes obvious and impossible to ignore.
When we stop moving and struggling,
stop fighting, that's when He can move, work, fight.
When we get out of His way, He becomes our way.


Thank you for this morning.
For these thoughts.
For this stillness.
Help me to seek the quiet,
to find the calm,
to meditate in the silence.

Thursday, April 21

Almost Good Friday



Easter is a close second to my favorite holiday. 
It gives me goosebumps, chills. It warms my soul, yet sombers my spirit. 
It gives me hope and fuels the urgency in my heart for the lost.
Good Friday has always been a day filled with emotion. 
Today, as my mind and heart race with the thoughts of what is remembered this week, tomorrow, this weekend. The sacrifice my Father gave for me. 
The death that was had for my life.
The life lost so I would be found.
The pain. The misery. 
It overwhelms.
I cannot help it. 
While I am playing the part of the bunny, hiding eggs and baking treats, yet trying desperately not to lose the meaning to my children.
Fervently snatching up every chance to teach them, in child's terms, about the death and resurrection of a Savior. 
I smile, yet my heart breaks. 
I laugh, but real, physical, hot tears sting my face with no warning.
How could He die.
For me?
And knowing the evil in my heart.
Knowing beforehand how little I would thank Him.
How I'd be ashamed of Him at times.
How I'd be too busy, passive, quiet to proclaim His word. 
Knowing the truth.
The depths of my heart
That I would fail.
That I'd try, but really not.
That I would not deserve it.
Nor earn it.
How
He loves me. 
Like none could.
Like none will.
Like I cannot.
He adores me.
He desires to be with me.
He bled so that I may not.
And so, as I am overcome with gratitude, emotion, love.
Confused by grace, sacrifice, depths I cannot grasp.
The same words keep running through my mind. They are the reflection of my heart this day. As I prepare for tomorrow. 
Good Friday.
Easter. 
Resurrection Day.

"What can wash away my sin?


Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.


Oh! precious is the flow


That makes me white as snow;

No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.



This is all my hope and peace,


Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
This is all my righteousness,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.


Now by this I’ll overcome—


Nothing but the blood of Jesus,
Now by this I’ll reach my home—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.


Glory! Glory! This I sing—


Nothing but the blood of Jesus,
All my praise for this I bring—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus."

Monday, April 18

Gifts 221-234

Son's arms, so smooth and soft, still hanging on to some baby skin
Baby's little lips, puckering up for his first kiss.
Hubby that steps in and helps when I'm not feeling well.
Cool breezes
Warm sunshine on my back
Baby licking peanut butter and jelly off his finger- Pop!
"I'm sorry's" between siblings
Baby imitating Daughter...the way she stands, sits, everything.
The gleam in Baby's eyes when he sees Son or Daughter.
Lunch outside
Otter pops in the garage, with the door open, taking a break from play
Red tricycle
Afternoons collecting snails, ladybugs and worms
God's forgiveness each morning

LinkWithin

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...