I get frustrated over little things. Right now it is the fact the the above recipe is not the recipe I think I am thinking of. My memory says,"The page that the recipe is on doesn't look right, the cookies that I made look different, and I'm sure the ingrediants are not quite what I used last time." My rational side is saying, "Look, you made flourless peanutbutter cookies from a magazine article this winter and this is the only magazine we have in the house with any such recipe so it must be it. End of story." Still I will obsess all day. I am completely neurotic when I have (or think I have) misplaced something. It comsumes me.
Anyway, everything else is sun-shiny and bright. McKinney's surgery went wonderfully. My house smells like good baking, the sunshine is streaming in through(grimy) windows. It's going to be 74F out! We saw our first robin on Friday and I am all-around just happy. I think I may take Mac to the zoo this afternoon!
As to surgery details. Mac was in great form Friday morning. Very easy going and daddy's biggest fan. He got rather hungry, but hardly fussed. Jon went in with him as they put him under and it was a peice of cake. The surgery itself took about a half hour and than we were called back into his room as soon as he was awake. He was pretty upset at this point, but we beleive it was from waking up in the nurses arms, being hungry, and having a blood oxygen sensor on his foot. He has always been very sensitive about having his feet touched and doesn't like us to tickle them or play with them-put socks on and leave them alone is his modo. Jon and Grandma soothed him while I walked the hallway trying not to pass out-hospitals and IVs put me over the edge-and than we were on our way home. He has stitches and a black eye, but he hardly seems to know it even took place. By Friday afternoon he wanted to play outside and got mad when we took a walk and bi-passed the playground. We dosed him with Tylonel for two days, but hes has hardly even touched him eye and yesterday he made no complaints even with out meds. So, THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO TOOK A MOMENT TO PRAY FOR MCKINNEY AND FOR US. EVERYTHING WENT SMOOTHLY AND GOD"S HAND WAS STRONGLY EVIDENT IN MAC'S ATTITUDE AND RECOVERLY.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Background for our Blue
McKinney is having surgery on Friday. It is minor, out-patient surgery for a dermoid over his eye. It will only take 45min and most patients have little discomfort other than a black eye after the procedure.
Still, we are sick with worry. Yes, we have a God who takes care of us and loves McKinney more perfectly than we ever can. Yes, He wants the best for us and plans good for our lives. Yes, He is with us in this moment and will be with us in those to come. Yes, He is in control and understands and meets us where we are at. Yes, everything will probably be fine.
And still, we are sick with worry.
He is our child. Our son.
I just keep thinking, what if this is the last week that I have to hold him and give him a bottle and tuck him in and see his bright smile and hear his fake laugh or his deep belly laugh or put his pj's on him or feed him spaghetti and take him for a walk to the park. What if this is the last tantrum, last dirty diaper, last med dash to keep him out of the street, last feeling og dread when he screams in the store......last time I put on his baby shoes and last onesie.....one last baby Mac kiss.
I know things will most likely be "right as rain" but I have always had a propensity toward dark daydreams of reality, and this is honestly the worst I've ever had. This is the gut wrenching, how would I go on with my life type feeling. I am scared.
And I'm also scared because in the midst of all my loving and worry, I think to myself, maybe I would go on and be okay. Parenting has not been a cakewalk and mothering has often felt truly aweful due to postpartum, so maybe not being a mother anymore would be freeing. That sounds morbid but I'm being very honest and in the moment here with you all who may be up reading a random woman's confession at midnight.
I know though that it wouldn't be that simple. No matter what happens, I will always be a mother to McKinney. He is a part of me. He is my heart-tightness tonight and I don't ever want to be without him. I love him. I love him.....and I want till the ends of the earth and longer to tell that too him.
This life is not in our hands, but His. Please pray a prayer for us this night, that we would be close to His heart, curled up in His hands, at peace with His heartbeat, and trusting in whatever He deems best for our future. Thank you.
Still, we are sick with worry. Yes, we have a God who takes care of us and loves McKinney more perfectly than we ever can. Yes, He wants the best for us and plans good for our lives. Yes, He is with us in this moment and will be with us in those to come. Yes, He is in control and understands and meets us where we are at. Yes, everything will probably be fine.
And still, we are sick with worry.
He is our child. Our son.
I just keep thinking, what if this is the last week that I have to hold him and give him a bottle and tuck him in and see his bright smile and hear his fake laugh or his deep belly laugh or put his pj's on him or feed him spaghetti and take him for a walk to the park. What if this is the last tantrum, last dirty diaper, last med dash to keep him out of the street, last feeling og dread when he screams in the store......last time I put on his baby shoes and last onesie.....one last baby Mac kiss.
I know things will most likely be "right as rain" but I have always had a propensity toward dark daydreams of reality, and this is honestly the worst I've ever had. This is the gut wrenching, how would I go on with my life type feeling. I am scared.
And I'm also scared because in the midst of all my loving and worry, I think to myself, maybe I would go on and be okay. Parenting has not been a cakewalk and mothering has often felt truly aweful due to postpartum, so maybe not being a mother anymore would be freeing. That sounds morbid but I'm being very honest and in the moment here with you all who may be up reading a random woman's confession at midnight.
I know though that it wouldn't be that simple. No matter what happens, I will always be a mother to McKinney. He is a part of me. He is my heart-tightness tonight and I don't ever want to be without him. I love him. I love him.....and I want till the ends of the earth and longer to tell that too him.
This life is not in our hands, but His. Please pray a prayer for us this night, that we would be close to His heart, curled up in His hands, at peace with His heartbeat, and trusting in whatever He deems best for our future. Thank you.
Monday, March 12, 2007
McKinney's Birth Story
Inspired by Ang MacPherson, I finishedMac's birth story today, some 14 months after his birth. Here it is:
The story of McKinney’s birth is somewhat of a Christmas story.
The night of December 23rd, Jon and I had gotten to bed late, around 11pm, after his last indoor soccer game of the season. The team had tried to persuade us to go out with them to Awada’s joking, “If you come out and start labor, maybe the little one will get a lifetime sponsorship!” Laughing, we declined, as we had an appointment to keep with Paula(our midwife) at 10am. We were in our 39th week of pregnancy and Paula had mentioned that it would probably be another couple weeks. I was planning on a quiet Christmas with family-my last one before motherhood and grateful that our baby wouldn’t be labeled a “Christmas Baby”.
After an hour of sleep I awoke at 12:15am to use the bathroom. There was a little blood, but nothing major and I’d had this earlier in the week, so back to bed I went. I rolled to one side, Ouch! Rolled to the other, Ouch! Thinking I was probably a little constipated I headed back to the bathroom. Sitting there my mucus plug let loose and I realized “These are contractions!” Timing the contractions by the clock on the microwave I paced and squatted and breathed as my muscles worked at pulling my baby into position. This was intense and after 20 minutes I awoke Jon to take over timing and to call Paula. The contractions were 6 minutes apart consistently and it was an hour to the birth center. We waited awhile longer and the contractions kept coming between 4-6 minutes steadily. Paula gave us the go sign and we were on our way by 3am. It was a warm foggy winter night. In the quiet I was focusing on breathing through the contractions which were coming faster and thinking this, “This is probably just my body practicing and soon everything will stop and we’ll go back home”. In my heart though, I was wide awake, excited, and hopeful that the time had finally come! The roads were empty and visibility was limited, but even so we made good time.
Paula met us at the door and by 4am I was 4cm dilated and tucked into the purple room with Jon lying next to me. I rested an hour than sat on the birthing ball. Rested some more and tried duck walking around 6:30am. Jon stood strong as I’d wrap my arms around his neck and hang, moaning low and deep. After this I was 9cm, Yeah! The baby was not yet in position though, so I did some lunges and than got into the soaking tub. Jon poured water over my belly as the contractions came. It is was so soothing. He had the perfect rhythm and pressure and we were one. I relaxed enough between each contraction to sleep a moment. When I’d awake my belly would be quaking and Jon was speaking soft encouragement. Catherine(doula) and Karen(midwife and therapist) arrived around 8am and I felt peace, confidence, and sacredness. At 8:40am I was 10cm and began stair walking. My left hip was filled with pain and Karen attempted to relieve it through massage. It was agonizing, but I could feel her love. I slow danced in Jon’s arms. I moaned. I blew deep hot breaths out like a horse. I felt good and strong, but tired. When was our baby going to come? More resting and bath time and ball time and hanging onto Jon. Karen and Paula had me lie down on a cloth and tried Relozo shifting to move the bay into place. They pulled the cloth up around my hips and tried to swing the baby. Through this he finally moved into place, but I still had terrible pain in my hip. Karen tried acupressure, but nothing helped. Finally, around 1pm I started pushing. My water broke but our baby stayed put. Around 3:30, while I was on the birthing stool pushing, there was a gush of blood. The babies heart rate dropped and a room of encouragement became unnaturally quiet. I couldn’t see what was going on. I was scared. 75 seconds went by and than, the little heart picked up again and we all breathed relief. Still, we were with empty arms. At 4pm I went back to bed and Paula discussed options with us, which resulted in resting and no pushing. Tired and discouraged I kept thinking, “I don’t want to go to the hospital.” I knew my body could birth our child, but I was feeling discouraged. At 5pm Katie arrived and brought with her freshness and excitement. We all felt a small sense of renewal. For the next 5 hours I pushed and rested and groaned and waited. I was so tired and my legs and cervical lip were terribly swollen. At 10pm I agreed to go to the hospital. We didn’t know why the baby wasn’t coming and were afraid that I would be too tired to get the baby out with my own strength.
Dr. Feigal was called to meet us and Katie, who was the nurse on call at Red Cedar Medical, took our blankets and cds and went before us to prepare our room. Driving the four short blocks I felt sad and anxious. I wanted this baby out and didn’t want to be a mother. I just wanted to be able to go home and crawl in bed and sleep until this was all just a memory. I’d been told that the baby was coming all day, but now I couldn’t believe that it would be today. I was really discouraged and felt that it was my fault that we were going to the hospital, even though the baby’s vitals were fine.
The hospital was empty and quiet-it seemed as if I was the only one there. I walked a long hall to get to my room. My birth team had reassembled and my blanket and pillow were on the bed. Dr. Feigal came in and realized that the reason the baby wasn’t moving down was because the cervix had gotten pinched between the baby’s head and my pubic bone and there was no way through. He gently pushed it back with his long fingers and we were in business! I was very tired and unsure that I really had it in me to finish the work I’d begun 23 hours ago, but Catherine looked me right in the eyes and with sincerity and faith told me, “ You can do this.” They had me use a bar to pull myself up into a squatting position while I pushed, but than switched me back to lying down. They brought a mirror and I watched as with each push the head would come out and than pull back in. It was terribly discouraging, but I knew that this baby was going to come out. I pushed and pushed and finally the head was through! There was so much dark hair! Than a couple more pushes and the baby was here! They placed him on my chest and I remember he felt so limp and warm. There was a lot of mucus in his lungs and we had to keep rubbing him and suctioning him until he finally let out a cry and wouldn’t stop! Jon had tears in his eyes and we looked at each other with amazement and tenderness; it was the most incredible day. Jon cut the cord and I held our son. He nursed a little and we all breathed sighs of peace. I birthed the placenta and than had a few minor stitches-which, incredibly, were the worst part for me. We were moved into another room and we all started to settle in for the night. It was around 2:30am on Christmas Day. Our son had been born at 11:58pm on December 24th, just squeezing in so he couldn’t technically be labeled a Christmas baby. It took us until noon to choose a name and than by 3pm we were on our way home to our own bed.
Birthing McKinney was an incredible journey and I’d do it all again without hesitation. Jon was almost an extension of me throughout the entire birth and I am so grateful for his love, strength, and on going encouragement as we parent our son. The birth unified us in ways unimaginable and becoming parents is the most miraculous experience I believe we will ever know on this earth.
The story of McKinney’s birth is somewhat of a Christmas story.
The night of December 23rd, Jon and I had gotten to bed late, around 11pm, after his last indoor soccer game of the season. The team had tried to persuade us to go out with them to Awada’s joking, “If you come out and start labor, maybe the little one will get a lifetime sponsorship!” Laughing, we declined, as we had an appointment to keep with Paula(our midwife) at 10am. We were in our 39th week of pregnancy and Paula had mentioned that it would probably be another couple weeks. I was planning on a quiet Christmas with family-my last one before motherhood and grateful that our baby wouldn’t be labeled a “Christmas Baby”.
After an hour of sleep I awoke at 12:15am to use the bathroom. There was a little blood, but nothing major and I’d had this earlier in the week, so back to bed I went. I rolled to one side, Ouch! Rolled to the other, Ouch! Thinking I was probably a little constipated I headed back to the bathroom. Sitting there my mucus plug let loose and I realized “These are contractions!” Timing the contractions by the clock on the microwave I paced and squatted and breathed as my muscles worked at pulling my baby into position. This was intense and after 20 minutes I awoke Jon to take over timing and to call Paula. The contractions were 6 minutes apart consistently and it was an hour to the birth center. We waited awhile longer and the contractions kept coming between 4-6 minutes steadily. Paula gave us the go sign and we were on our way by 3am. It was a warm foggy winter night. In the quiet I was focusing on breathing through the contractions which were coming faster and thinking this, “This is probably just my body practicing and soon everything will stop and we’ll go back home”. In my heart though, I was wide awake, excited, and hopeful that the time had finally come! The roads were empty and visibility was limited, but even so we made good time.
Paula met us at the door and by 4am I was 4cm dilated and tucked into the purple room with Jon lying next to me. I rested an hour than sat on the birthing ball. Rested some more and tried duck walking around 6:30am. Jon stood strong as I’d wrap my arms around his neck and hang, moaning low and deep. After this I was 9cm, Yeah! The baby was not yet in position though, so I did some lunges and than got into the soaking tub. Jon poured water over my belly as the contractions came. It is was so soothing. He had the perfect rhythm and pressure and we were one. I relaxed enough between each contraction to sleep a moment. When I’d awake my belly would be quaking and Jon was speaking soft encouragement. Catherine(doula) and Karen(midwife and therapist) arrived around 8am and I felt peace, confidence, and sacredness. At 8:40am I was 10cm and began stair walking. My left hip was filled with pain and Karen attempted to relieve it through massage. It was agonizing, but I could feel her love. I slow danced in Jon’s arms. I moaned. I blew deep hot breaths out like a horse. I felt good and strong, but tired. When was our baby going to come? More resting and bath time and ball time and hanging onto Jon. Karen and Paula had me lie down on a cloth and tried Relozo shifting to move the bay into place. They pulled the cloth up around my hips and tried to swing the baby. Through this he finally moved into place, but I still had terrible pain in my hip. Karen tried acupressure, but nothing helped. Finally, around 1pm I started pushing. My water broke but our baby stayed put. Around 3:30, while I was on the birthing stool pushing, there was a gush of blood. The babies heart rate dropped and a room of encouragement became unnaturally quiet. I couldn’t see what was going on. I was scared. 75 seconds went by and than, the little heart picked up again and we all breathed relief. Still, we were with empty arms. At 4pm I went back to bed and Paula discussed options with us, which resulted in resting and no pushing. Tired and discouraged I kept thinking, “I don’t want to go to the hospital.” I knew my body could birth our child, but I was feeling discouraged. At 5pm Katie arrived and brought with her freshness and excitement. We all felt a small sense of renewal. For the next 5 hours I pushed and rested and groaned and waited. I was so tired and my legs and cervical lip were terribly swollen. At 10pm I agreed to go to the hospital. We didn’t know why the baby wasn’t coming and were afraid that I would be too tired to get the baby out with my own strength.
Dr. Feigal was called to meet us and Katie, who was the nurse on call at Red Cedar Medical, took our blankets and cds and went before us to prepare our room. Driving the four short blocks I felt sad and anxious. I wanted this baby out and didn’t want to be a mother. I just wanted to be able to go home and crawl in bed and sleep until this was all just a memory. I’d been told that the baby was coming all day, but now I couldn’t believe that it would be today. I was really discouraged and felt that it was my fault that we were going to the hospital, even though the baby’s vitals were fine.
The hospital was empty and quiet-it seemed as if I was the only one there. I walked a long hall to get to my room. My birth team had reassembled and my blanket and pillow were on the bed. Dr. Feigal came in and realized that the reason the baby wasn’t moving down was because the cervix had gotten pinched between the baby’s head and my pubic bone and there was no way through. He gently pushed it back with his long fingers and we were in business! I was very tired and unsure that I really had it in me to finish the work I’d begun 23 hours ago, but Catherine looked me right in the eyes and with sincerity and faith told me, “ You can do this.” They had me use a bar to pull myself up into a squatting position while I pushed, but than switched me back to lying down. They brought a mirror and I watched as with each push the head would come out and than pull back in. It was terribly discouraging, but I knew that this baby was going to come out. I pushed and pushed and finally the head was through! There was so much dark hair! Than a couple more pushes and the baby was here! They placed him on my chest and I remember he felt so limp and warm. There was a lot of mucus in his lungs and we had to keep rubbing him and suctioning him until he finally let out a cry and wouldn’t stop! Jon had tears in his eyes and we looked at each other with amazement and tenderness; it was the most incredible day. Jon cut the cord and I held our son. He nursed a little and we all breathed sighs of peace. I birthed the placenta and than had a few minor stitches-which, incredibly, were the worst part for me. We were moved into another room and we all started to settle in for the night. It was around 2:30am on Christmas Day. Our son had been born at 11:58pm on December 24th, just squeezing in so he couldn’t technically be labeled a Christmas baby. It took us until noon to choose a name and than by 3pm we were on our way home to our own bed.
Birthing McKinney was an incredible journey and I’d do it all again without hesitation. Jon was almost an extension of me throughout the entire birth and I am so grateful for his love, strength, and on going encouragement as we parent our son. The birth unified us in ways unimaginable and becoming parents is the most miraculous experience I believe we will ever know on this earth.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Life's littles are not to be ignored...
Meloncholy and listening to my new favorite song on repeat this morning. I am addicted to Highlight on the new Storyhill CD. 99.9% of you won't know who they are, but we are in love with them. They are the background music to our lives along with Waterdeep and U2. They sound a bit like Simon and Garfunkle and other folky friends. They have incredibly tight harmonies. You can find more info at www.peppermintcds.com. Anyway, the lyrics go:
Highlight of my life
Dreamer in my dreams
Everything is not only as it seems
Just beneath the rippling surface of the stream
Something even greater weaving us together
(chorus):
Unseen the tie that binds us
Unknown the path before us
Unclouded the sky above
An unbelievable love
Wade in the water hold on to my hand
Current can be strong here but no stronger than I am
if we slip or falter we'll stumble together
(chorus)
More than a morning Sun
I love to be with you
(chorus)
Anyone in love will find this a sweet salve. Loving my husband as I do, I envision this to be about us. Yes, I am still in love with my husband of 5 years and 6 days.
For our anniversary this past weekend, we had the good fortune to go away to a friends cabin without our son. We hunkered down in the midst of two feet of snow and just enjoyed each other and endless quantities of free time. Jon watched Band of Brothers. I crocheted and read. We did things together too; uh hum. In our relaxing the teapot would whistle and we would both jump thinking it was McKinney-oh how we needed the time away. It was heavenly, and for all of you who wished us a nice 5 year celebration-Thank you, we did.
Upon re-entering parenthood, we were delivered a baby with a temp of 104.6F. Reality quickly set upon us as we spent the night awake with im inour bed wondering if we should be heading to the ER. He is getting better slowly, after chest x-rays, bloob tests, and eye drops. We think it is just a cold and bacterial infection in his eye, but for this mother, the worry doesn't stop until the cough and runny nose are gone. Running on 1 night of sleep out of the past 4 has emotionally been taking it's toll. I love that my little boy is so cuddly, but I hate that he is not himself. I am also frustrated with my emotions. I just want to get away from all of this. Poor Jon bears the brunt of my anguish. Last night he was 15min later getting home and I felt seething resentment towards him. We had a talk about it(we don't fight-it's not in either of us) and of course the end was positive.
It's hard being a stay-at-home parent.
Other news, I am wanting to work, but not sure how, when, or where that can happen. I am overwhelmed by all that a job in my life would entail. Determining hours, daycare, salary and what I could handle and enjoy seems HUGE mentally, yet, we need the money and I think that I need to do something outside of mothering and wifing(?). I also wonder if this is my attempt to run away from the depression I feel when I'm stuck at home with myself and a 1 year old for days on end. So far I have just been thinking about it and have acted on the impulse very little. I am praying that God will bring the perfect opportunity and take care of all the details. It's a tall order, but my God is able.
So how about you? What breezes of change and emotion are blowing across the back of your neck?
Highlight of my life
Dreamer in my dreams
Everything is not only as it seems
Just beneath the rippling surface of the stream
Something even greater weaving us together
(chorus):
Unseen the tie that binds us
Unknown the path before us
Unclouded the sky above
An unbelievable love
Wade in the water hold on to my hand
Current can be strong here but no stronger than I am
if we slip or falter we'll stumble together
(chorus)
More than a morning Sun
I love to be with you
(chorus)
Anyone in love will find this a sweet salve. Loving my husband as I do, I envision this to be about us. Yes, I am still in love with my husband of 5 years and 6 days.
For our anniversary this past weekend, we had the good fortune to go away to a friends cabin without our son. We hunkered down in the midst of two feet of snow and just enjoyed each other and endless quantities of free time. Jon watched Band of Brothers. I crocheted and read. We did things together too; uh hum. In our relaxing the teapot would whistle and we would both jump thinking it was McKinney-oh how we needed the time away. It was heavenly, and for all of you who wished us a nice 5 year celebration-Thank you, we did.
Upon re-entering parenthood, we were delivered a baby with a temp of 104.6F. Reality quickly set upon us as we spent the night awake with im inour bed wondering if we should be heading to the ER. He is getting better slowly, after chest x-rays, bloob tests, and eye drops. We think it is just a cold and bacterial infection in his eye, but for this mother, the worry doesn't stop until the cough and runny nose are gone. Running on 1 night of sleep out of the past 4 has emotionally been taking it's toll. I love that my little boy is so cuddly, but I hate that he is not himself. I am also frustrated with my emotions. I just want to get away from all of this. Poor Jon bears the brunt of my anguish. Last night he was 15min later getting home and I felt seething resentment towards him. We had a talk about it(we don't fight-it's not in either of us) and of course the end was positive.
It's hard being a stay-at-home parent.
Other news, I am wanting to work, but not sure how, when, or where that can happen. I am overwhelmed by all that a job in my life would entail. Determining hours, daycare, salary and what I could handle and enjoy seems HUGE mentally, yet, we need the money and I think that I need to do something outside of mothering and wifing(?). I also wonder if this is my attempt to run away from the depression I feel when I'm stuck at home with myself and a 1 year old for days on end. So far I have just been thinking about it and have acted on the impulse very little. I am praying that God will bring the perfect opportunity and take care of all the details. It's a tall order, but my God is able.
So how about you? What breezes of change and emotion are blowing across the back of your neck?
Friday, March 2, 2007
5 Years of Wonder
The Love of My Life and I have been married 5 years today. Laying in bed last night we agreed that we still fit together perfectly every way. We are the best of friends, pretty good parents, great lovers, and an incredible team in whatever we do. I truly believe we were made for each other. I love him! I love him! I love him! Can you tell I'm still in love! For us, marriage has only gotten sweeter with time. Yes, there were transitions and struggles in the beginning-sometimes there still are, but life with Jon is greater than all I ever hoped or dared to imagine, and I'm sure the future will continue to far exceed all my dreams! I am a blessed woman. My husband is the most gentle, kind, gracious, forgiving, tender, strong, handsome, brave, intelligent, hard-working, compassionate, sensitive, considerate, patient, unconditionally loving, generous man I could ever want, and no doubt, he is all I'll ever want.
My prayer today is that those who are married would have this same sense of passion and fulfilment that I find within my marriage.
And for those who aren't married, I pray that if you ever want and do get married, you will aspire and work to have a great marriage and that God would give you a partner with that same desire and commitment.
My prayer today is that those who are married would have this same sense of passion and fulfilment that I find within my marriage.
And for those who aren't married, I pray that if you ever want and do get married, you will aspire and work to have a great marriage and that God would give you a partner with that same desire and commitment.
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