tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60189434586271865342024-02-06T22:11:54.079-06:00In the MeantimeIt seems like we spend so much of our lives waiting for the next big thing that promises to make us happy. For me, its always been things like getting married, finding the "perfect" job, having kids, etc. I tend to forget about living in the moment and enjoying what God has for me now. And I've realized I miss out on a lot of joy when I'm continually looking around the corner for what's next. I want to live life to the fullest "in the meantime."In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-35003321746244446822016-09-10T13:17:00.002-05:002016-09-10T13:31:54.018-05:00Exhale<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihNj8uykqK7MsrHRpwB4LatuCGQtONUMxxLqn93xxgQVuJfkhDNuBd-R1kE6ITrSIHabafrspDcPpmtwv7mxbchQA9CxYJIrsBQG4Y2cEvKBDslODZUj6Mb0ty_wLg28IrZE2lzGCwuxPI/s1600/franklin1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihNj8uykqK7MsrHRpwB4LatuCGQtONUMxxLqn93xxgQVuJfkhDNuBd-R1kE6ITrSIHabafrspDcPpmtwv7mxbchQA9CxYJIrsBQG4Y2cEvKBDslODZUj6Mb0ty_wLg28IrZE2lzGCwuxPI/s1600/franklin1.jpg" /></a></div>
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This post originally appeared on <a href="https://the918.org/2016/08/31/exhale/" target="_blank">the918.org</a><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To me,
motherhood means having a hummingbird feeder. My mom has always had hummingbird
feeders and my grandma always did, too. She loved hummingbirds. After I had my
first child, I asked Kyle if he would get me a hummingbird feeder for Mother’s
Day. It was a right of passage. The 19 hours of labor and delivery didn’t seal
it, it was the hummingbird feeder that made me feel like a mom. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This is our
first spring and summer in our new house and I had a reminder on my calendar to
set out the hummingbird feeder. It’s right outside our kitchen window and I was
delighted when hummingbirds started visiting! We were getting several different
ones and started naming them. There was the beautiful ruby throated James,
plain, petit Judy and a few other regulars. Pretty soon, though, I noticed that
fat, short-beaked Franklin had decided to stake claim on the feeder and would
dive-bomb anyone who tried to come to one of the four fake flowers that held
the sugary sweet “nectar” I so lovingly prepared. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I had heard
hummingbirds can be territorial but it still made me mad. It was only when
Franklin flew away that the others could come for a drink. He’d perch on top of
the feeder, ready to drive away any competition. Didn’t he know that there was
more than enough sugar-water to go around? Didn’t he know that I would gladly
make more, if the feeder was even close to being empty? Silly Franklin. Franklin
got under my skin. He should share the wealth. He shouldn’t be so bossy. This
wasn’t his feeder, it was MINE. Slow your roll, Franklin. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Why did
Franklin make me so mad? And then it hit me: It made me mad beause I am
Franklin. When I have leftover condiments at a fast food restaurant, I take
them home with me and store them in my fridge. I like to blame it on being
frugal, but it goes deeper than that. I’m afraid if I don’t take care of myself
and get all I can, a day will come when I don’t have what I need. Isn’t that
the American Way? <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Saving comes
naturally to me. I do it with fast food condiments, with money, with snacks and
with deeper, more meaningful parts of my life. I frequently catch myself
holding my breath. As if there might not be enough air for my next inhale. I
hold onto what I have, in case it runs out. This is all subconsciously done, of
course, but it is a common thread in my life. Worry that applause for someone
else might mean there is no room for recognizing the good that I have done.
Worry that, despite God showing faithfulness again and again throughout my
life, the lifeline might just run out this time.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I ran across
a quote by Ann Voskamp in January and it’s been slowly sinking in for the past
several months. “Worry is belief gone wrong. Because you don’t believe that God
will get it right. But peace- peace is belief that exhales. Because you believe
that God’s provision is everywhere- like air.” God’s provision is everywhere- like air. Oh,
to breathe the free air! To not chase the other hummingbirds away, but welcome
them to the feast, trusting that there will be more than enough for everyone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I want to
live my life as an exhale. Give my time, my energy, my money, my dearest treasure.
Freely. With abandon, knowing it is all a gift from God in the first place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<img src="file:///C:/Users/westfall-laptop/Desktop/franklin1.jpg" /><img src="file:///C:/Users/westfall-laptop/Desktop/franklin1.jpg" />In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-26605852991147559402013-05-31T09:01:00.003-05:002013-05-31T09:01:48.573-05:00TiredI haven't been this worn out in a very long time. I worked 92 hours a week one summer in San Francisco and lived in an abandoned school building. Hardest summer of my life. That's kind of how I feel right now.<br />
<br />
Brody was sick for almost two weeks. He woke up every 2 hours at night, wanting to be held and nursed. So I would hold him and nurse him, because he was sick and miserable and it was the only thing that comforted him. About 5 minutes after Brody got better, Liam got a cold. Runny nose, cough, just doesn't feel good. I got back injections last week, and I'm hopeful they will help heal my back, but right now it just HURTS. When I bend over to pick up Brody, it feels like it might just snap. And, I got two moles removed on Wednesday. They were small and only needed one stitch each, but they hurt. After I put Brody down last night, I just laid on our bedroom floor, crying. Spent.<br />
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Sometimes, when things are tough with the kids, going to work is like a vacation. No one pulling on me, crying in my face, I don't have to wipe anyone else's nose or bottom. But lately I've just felt divided. Like I'm only half myself at work, missing my boys so much. And when I get home, I'm so worn out from trying to cram in everything that needs to be done, that I'm exhausted and just want the kids to sit and play quietly... which hasn't happened yet! I end up answering work emails while I'm nursing and replying to texts while pushing the swing. I usually have a rule where I don't do any work while I'm with my kids so I can be present. I like that rule and it works well. But there wasn't any Mother's Day Out this week and I had to juggle my work and kids. That's the beauty of my job, it's so very flexible and I'm so thankful to work somewhere where I can walk down the hall and feed Brody, where I can take my kids to the doctor when they're sick. I have so much to be thankful for every day. But today I'm tired.<br />
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I wanted to have an upswing to the end of this post. How God showed me something beautiful and changed my life through this time of being tired. Nope. Not today. Maybe tomorrow. Today I'm just tired.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-73644615003583441192013-05-21T09:29:00.003-05:002013-05-21T09:29:44.095-05:00<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">My heart is heavy with the tragic loss of life from the tornadoes in Moore yesterday. As I think about it and try to go on with my daily tasks, my eyes are filled with tears. In light of such heartache, I am choosing today to find ways to show God's kindness to others. My prayer is for God to have mercy on those who are mourning the loss of life and property. Days like these make me long for heaven. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">As I was getting ready for work and looking for a necklace this morning, I stumbled across this box:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjdnjue4BJbvKZG2KCNOKrO7fSi5eoE-fr0gF5r-xQU78iL_8Bg_OL28asYxIojLdSLBWXmbAv471bNaKXco8rnFCKyunbIWQO_bbT9i_o2DLx4_vVqnbwWUeQSkVstceLbdd2usBedSay/s1600/box.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjdnjue4BJbvKZG2KCNOKrO7fSi5eoE-fr0gF5r-xQU78iL_8Bg_OL28asYxIojLdSLBWXmbAv471bNaKXco8rnFCKyunbIWQO_bbT9i_o2DLx4_vVqnbwWUeQSkVstceLbdd2usBedSay/s200/box.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">And inside, is one of my most precious</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"> possessions, a tiny starfish. You know that cheesy poem, where a man is walking along the beach and sees another man picking up a starfish out of the multitude of starfish, and throwing it back in the water? And then the man bends down, picks up another, and throws it to safety? The first man asks why he is doing it. There are so many starfish, what difference could he possibly make? "It made a difference to that one," was the second man's reply. That is my life's goal. My purpose. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">I spent two weeks in Mexico every summer during high school. Tijuana, the "armpit of the western hemisphere." One summer, as we were building houses and de-liceing kids in a local dump, I met a woman named Maria. Maria's husband had recently died from AIDS and she was trying to raise her four kids, the youngest, Elisabeth, was probably 6 months old. At the end of my time there, Maria asked me if I would take Elisabeth home with me and adopt her. I was 16 years old. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't take Elisabeth with me. That night, the leaders gave each one of us a tiny starfish and reminded us that we can do something every day to help someone else. I did what I could for Maria and Elisabeth while I was in Mexico and I still think about them and wonder what became of them. But the starfish image stuck with me. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Sometimes I wonder why God has me in this job right now. And then I think of two little girls whose mommy "took too much medicine" and died. I hug those girls extra tight when I see them and I think of the starfish. God has be here to give mommy hugs when someone doesn't have a mommy who can hug them right now. God has me here to be a lap to sit on, to be someone to give a high five after a stunning performance of "I Dropped My Dolly in the Dirt" during a talent show. I get to be the hands and feet and arms and tears of Jesus. Not all the time. Sometimes I am the Xerox-copy-making hands of Jesus. Or the volunteer-calling voice of Jesus. Or the ordering-VBS-supplies hands of Jesus. It gets mundane. It gets frustrating. But today I remember the starfish. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirwfoLeKSwGfJbMpOluoRle4AYgW1IsfKqEmfjkZV43FfnaHzVMJ9rZHHO_ZsBxU5OFFh6o272jph_0MlNEMlownW3woBcnmGd553JkIW0FtUNT2X1nk_i0Z6dzi-gZidMxVY8DPObnJee/s1600/hand.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirwfoLeKSwGfJbMpOluoRle4AYgW1IsfKqEmfjkZV43FfnaHzVMJ9rZHHO_ZsBxU5OFFh6o272jph_0MlNEMlownW3woBcnmGd553JkIW0FtUNT2X1nk_i0Z6dzi-gZidMxVY8DPObnJee/s200/hand.JPG" width="149" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Since we are not there yet, I want to bring heaven to earth, even though my impact may be small. Will you join me?</span><br />
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In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-75110803089468429032013-04-08T13:02:00.001-05:002013-04-08T13:02:39.826-05:00Hurry Sickness<br />
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I learned an important lesson last Monday. My mom watches
the boys on Mondays and it was my second week back to work and I was running
really late. My chest was tight from stressing out about trying to get us all
packed up (it takes so much planning and STUFF to get ready for the day!) and
out the door. I felt like I couldn't breathe because I hate being late… <o:p></o:p></div>
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I got the kids to my mom’s and was racing out the door to
drive to work. Liam was playing with some blocks and said, “Mommy, sit down
please. Play blocks.” I hesitated for a second and then said, “Sorry, baby.
Mommy has to go to work.” I hugged him and kissed him and left. And sobbed, I
mean blubbered, the whole way to work. <o:p></o:p></div>
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What an awful feeling! I was sad the whole day and missed my
boys. When I got back to my mom’s I told her how sad I was all day. She told me
that there is nothing so important at work that couldn't wait for me to sit
down and play blocks with my kid for five minutes. I would have saved myself a
day of heartache by just sitting down for a few minutes. And after a few
minutes, Liam would have been done with me anyway and ready to do something
else. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I love my boys so much and want to do what’s best for them
every day. I hate it when I mess up but I’m learning and re-learning that there
is no such thing as a perfect parent. I want to learn from my mistakes and be a
better parent and one way to do that is to slow down and soak up the precious
moments with my kids. <o:p></o:p></div>
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There is a chapter in the book, The Good and Beautiful God,
that talks about “hurry sickness.” I have hurry sickness. I don’t want to pass it
on to my kids. My prayer is that I will seek the Cure every day instead of
losing myself in the midst of hurry. <o:p></o:p></div>
In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-51651991247153098482013-03-18T14:25:00.001-05:002013-03-18T14:25:50.489-05:00beingAs 2012 turned to 2013, I spent the month of January asking God what he wanted for my 2013. I didn't feel like I needed to make a list of resolutions, I was already maxed out on things like that.<br />
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This pregnancy was difficult for me. It wasn't high risk or difficult in that sense, its just that I spent 22 weeks throwing up and then the last 6 weeks in a wheelchair because my back and hip were "out". It was humbling to roll around church in a wheelchair and I think I learned a lot from that time, but more on that later.<br />
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After asking God what he wanted for 2013, I felt like he was saying that he wants me to be a human-being rather than a human-doing. I find my worth in what I do. I have as long as I can remember. And to change to being a human-being would be a big step. One that I long to take.
I want to rest. Really rest. And not let my mind go a zillion miles per hour, thinking of all the things I should be doing. Laundry. Emptying the dish washer. Returning work emails. Reading to my kids. Loving my husband better. Blogging. I spend a whole lot of time thinking about what I should be doing. Even when I do try to relax, I jump up and start doing again. I feel like I must do the right things to earn my worth. To my husband, co-workers, kids, parents, friends.<br />
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How do I learn to just be? It's easy for me to see it as being lazy. But what if there really is something to slowing down the pace and breathing in God's grace? Not being tempted by the Siren song of busyness and accomplishment. Of finding my worth in how much I did or did not accomplish that day. It's a difficult balance that I can't seem to maintain for more than a few minutes at a time. I pray that God will hold my hand and walk me through this, minute by minute.<br />
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What if I were someone who exudes grace and peace? That's what I want. I'm not saying change my personality, but to change how I respond to life. To change how I breathe and live and react and work. I'm certain that can only come by spending time in God's presence. It is a natural outcome to time spent with the Father. And I see how it's glaringly missing from my life. I miss God. I miss time spent in his presence. I hate to write that. Especially since I am a children's pastor. I just went to Facebook and deleted the post I just made with the link to my blog because I don't want to be that transparent.
The times I've encountered God recently have quenched my thirsty soul. I don't get to go to worship on Sunday mornings because I'm working. We lead worship for the kids and I teach every other week, but it takes a lot more out of me than I get back. I leave Sundays feeling utterly drained with not an ounce of anything left to give.<br />
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Maternity leave has been great because I've been able to go to Sunday school and worship with Kyle. I feel my soul soaking up the nourishment every minute that I'm there.<br />
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I don't know the answer to slowing down and being more than doing. But, really, I guess I do. I want to be in God's presence and learn from him. Jesus says to take his yoke upon me because he is gentle and humble. That is my prayer. To walk in sync with Jesus. To be yoked with him. To stand next to him so that when a snarky comment is about to slip past my lips, he puts his hand on mine as a reminder to bite my tongue. And eventually, maybe the snarky comment won't even cross my mind.<br />
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This post has been rambling and I'm not sure the point. More of a "dear diary" moment than anything else. But these things are ratting around in my head and I so desire to take a step back from my need to do. I want to be. A child of God. A wife. A mom. A children's pastor. All soaked in God's calming, healing presence. In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-76912012962229927372013-03-18T13:34:00.001-05:002013-03-18T13:35:38.493-05:00Brody's Birth StoryI have twice as many kids as when I last posted a year ago. Brody Andrew Westfall was born January 24, one day after his due date, just like his big brother.
I was scheduled to be induced the morning of the 24th so we dropped Liam at my parents' house after dinner on the 23rd. I'd been having contractions off and on for over a week and was 5cm dilated, so we knew he was coming soon either way. Some contractions had started about 5pm at our house, and were about 10 minutes apart. We got to my parents' and they stopped for about 30 minutes. They started back up on the way back to our house and were about 6 minutes apart for about 2 hours. Finally, Kyle asked what I thought we should do, since I was already dilated, etc. I said we should probably go to the hospital. As I stood up, I had another contraction that lasted 60 seconds and then started having contractions every minute and a half! Kyle was trying to prod me along to the car, but I kept having to stop for another contraction.
The drive to the hospital was like you see on TV shows. I was having contractions every 90 seconds and hollering like they do on TV. I hate when they holler. I would roll the windows down and holler out the window (it was 10:30 at night so there weren't many cars) because no one likes to listen to hollering with the windows up!
As I was being wheeled to labor and delivery, we passed my friend's mother-in-law. My friend, Megan, was in labor, too! (She beat me by 2 hours and had her baby girl that night).
When I got to the delivery room, I was 8cm and the nurse said she didn't think I had time for an epidural. I assured her that we DID have time and that I was most definitely going to have an epidural. I made Kyle attend 21 hours of natural birthing class for Liam and ended up having an epi at 7cm, 13 hours into a 19 hour labor. Best decision of my life. So this time around, it wasn't even a consideration to NOT have one. The nurse was so nice and sped my blood work up and got an anesthesiologist to come. By then I was 9cm but she told him I was 8 so he'd still give me the epidural! After the epidural, I could still feel pain on my right side, but I think it helped me push.
It took over 2 hours of pushing to get Liam ("old Big-Head") out so anything less than that was going to feel like a breeze. I was so surprised when Brody came after about 10 minutes of pushing! It's so funny how things can be so different the second time around.
Things seem so much easier with your 2nd baby. I'm much more relaxed and feel like taking care of Brody comes so naturally. I'm not saying it's easy all the time though, things are so much harder sometimes with two. Like trying to get one down for a nap when the other is crying. Or playing a toy trumpet. But I love having my two boys. They bring me so much joy and make me laugh every day.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6vh6Gm_ow2VNi5c7pJ3576fHkIMpBkP0jieq6mjhJhyphenhyphensCFUbU2mETP7bJXeWcwWZU-rHQVUl4xLz1WWJ6ohbG24RNlPqlw78sQXCzRPRiJl-f4yTO8kzNbJYrlZRRPVm4de2z9vp-i1jQ/s1600/060.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6vh6Gm_ow2VNi5c7pJ3576fHkIMpBkP0jieq6mjhJhyphenhyphensCFUbU2mETP7bJXeWcwWZU-rHQVUl4xLz1WWJ6ohbG24RNlPqlw78sQXCzRPRiJl-f4yTO8kzNbJYrlZRRPVm4de2z9vp-i1jQ/s320/060.JPG" /></a>
In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-23824595916973689632012-03-22T13:44:00.002-05:002012-03-22T13:44:11.327-05:00"I'll Take Care of It"I sat out on the back patio yesterday afternoon, for the few brief moments that the sun came out, soaking up Vitamin D and praying. I have been feeling burdened lately about our family’s finances. We’re doing okay now and I am proud of how we budget our money. But I was worrying a lot about how we’ll do when we have another kid. I do imaginary budget cuts in my head and try to figure out how we’ll make it with another kid or two. There’s a lot of planning that needs to happen. No, we’re not pregnant, but Kyle and I both would like more kids, and, well, I’m a planner. <br />
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It’s been very hard to trust God with our finances. I felt very independent, before we got married, and it’s hard to trust God, let alone another person, with how much money we make and what to spend it on. All that to say, I’ve spent too much time worrying. <br />
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I get irritated by the “do not worry” verses in Matthew 6 and Luke 12. Worrying is what I do. How will things get done if I’m not there to monitor the process?! Those verses have never made sense to me because I don’t know how to turn the worry switch off. I asked God what I’m supposed to do about that, and, to my surprise, he answered me. I immediately had a memory flash into my mind:<br />
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It was the week before our wedding in Wilmore, Kentucky. The planning had gone incredible smoothly, except for the reception catering. We were having the reception at a hotel in Lexington, and the blasted caterer had not returned my calls. We were supposed to have set the menu two weeks prior to the wedding and I had been calling her. Every day. For two weeks. I was beyond frustrated. I was furious. This was the only thing I freaked out about during the whole planning process, so I did it up big. I remember calling my mom as I was driving up Jessamine Station Road from Kyle’s house to our new apartment. It was a Friday night and I vented at how mad I was at the caterer and how she was making my life miserable. I think my mom laughed. She said, “Ok. I’ll take care of it.” And she did. Mom, being the Fixer of All Things Broken, had it taken care of the next day. Menu picked and set in stone. I don’t know who she talked to or how she got a hold of the right people, but I had nothing to worry about because Mom had taken care of it. At the reception the next weekend, we had the most wonderful food I’ve ever had at a reception: crab legs, prime rib, Caesar salad in cute little martini glasses, fruit plates and an endless chocolate fountain. It was all so delicious (And yes, I ate our reception. I highly recommend it!). The best part was, I hadn’t had to give it another thought after Mom took care of it. <br />
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And then it hit me. God was telling me, “I’ll take care of it.” He might have even laughed a little, too. I wanted to tell him, “but, wait, let me give you my stipulations first” but I resisted. God is bigger than our Excel sheet budget. The Bible says he owns the cattle on a thousand hills. He has been so faithful in my life. Time and again. Why would he not be faithful now? So, on our back patio yesterday, I handed it over to God. I asked him to take care of my family and our future, the way Mom had taken care of the reception catering. He has a good future planned for us. And I am choosing to trust him with it.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-50718497386939406682011-12-02T13:49:00.002-06:002011-12-02T13:49:24.261-06:00IdiotHave you ever been the idiot and not realized it until it was too late? I was driving to work in the left lane one day this week and crested a hill with a truck in the right lane in front of me. There had been construction going on for a few weeks, with the right lane closed, so I was waiting for the truck to get over into my lane but he wasn’t starting to merge. I was staring at the guy in the truck and we even made eye contact once, through his side mirror. I was giving him a, “Come, on, idiot, I’m waiting!” look. Finally, I looked up, and to my surprise, the lane closure had switched and the left lane was now closed. I had to quickly switch lanes so I wouldn’t hit the cones. I was the idiot. <br />
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I’ve caught myself focusing on the flaws of others a lot lately. I’ve found myself getting frustrated at things that others around me are doing or not doing, and letting things get under my skin. I want to say, “Come on, idiot, I’m waiting” more than I’d like to admit. And I have been convicted to consider the plank in my own eye instead. Lord, let me not be blind to my own shortcomings. Let me not think so highly of myself that I don’t see the room for improvement, refining, and correction in my own life. Help me not to be an idiot.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-33705130710846163102011-08-28T15:30:00.000-05:002011-08-28T15:30:34.731-05:00HugsI always call myself an “accidental children’s minister,” but today I was reminded that God is in the middle of a lot of happy accidents. I had never planned on being a children’s minister and a lot of days, I feel like I’m only slugging along and someone else could probably do a lot better job than myself. But I love kids and I love Jesus, so its pretty fun when I get to tell kids about Jesus’ love for them. But its even better when I get to show it. <br />
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There are two little girls who come regularly with their grandma. The girls are so sweet, but to be honest, I haven’t spent tons of time getting to know them. When they walked in today, they both ran up to me and gave me huge hugs, which was a delightful surprise. A few minutes later, I sat down at the color station to color with one of the girls before we got started. I was asking about Grandma and if they lived with Grandma. She said, “yes, my mom died.” I told her how sorry I was (this girl is six years old) and she offered that her mom had taken too much medicine and died. I don’t know the story at all but its obvious what it looks like and my heart broke for this little girl. I told her I was sorry and gave her a big hug. I think she needed a mom today and I was able to give her a sliver of what a mom would give. <br />
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Another girl is one of my favorites (I know, not supposed to have favorites) and we always have good talks. Grandma (different Grandma) takes her to church, too, because her mom is sick. Mom is basically paralyzed from the neck down and in a wheelchair. We pray each week that God will heal her mom. But in the meantime, I get to give the hugs that Mom will one day give when she is well, whether that is on this side of heaven or not. I always make sure to give an extra squeeze when I hug this little princess, one for me and a secret one for her mama. <br />
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I think it was Maya Angelou who said something along the lines of, “people will forget what you say, they will forget what you do, but they will not forget how you made them feel.” I hope I made these little girls feel loved and cherished. I cannot think of anything better I could have done with my morning. <br />
In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-77417393251736812492011-07-26T16:05:00.001-05:002011-07-26T16:05:01.175-05:00Grumpy HobbitI have been surprised at how much of an introvert I’ve become since Liam was born. Well, it might have actually started a few months before he was born. I didn’t really go through a “nesting” phase, but I did start wanting to just be home. This is new to me because I’m usually looking for the next fun thing to do and always find excuses to leave the house, even if its just to go to Target. But something shifted and I’m finding myself loving my time with my little family and not having much of a desire to socialize. <br />
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This new disposition has come with its share of consequences and I continually feel like I’m disappointing my friends when I don’t reach out. A dear friend recently had a baby and we’ve e-mailed a whole lot but I have only talked to her once on the phone. Its like I can’t bring myself to interact. It doesn’t feel like post-partum depression or anything, I don’t feel depressed at all, I just don’t feel like talking to people! This is especially true because I’m “on” a lot at work, particularly on Sundays. After smiling and running around and hugging kids and giving the lesson, I’m ready to crawl in a hole with my family by the time I get home. <br />
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I think one of the reasons for the way I feel is that I want to just soak up every second with Liam. I waited a long time for this little guy and love every second with him, every kiss, every smile (and he smiles a lot!), his little toes, his fat little tummy, the way he flaps his arms when I unwrap him after a nap. I can’t get enough of him! My heart swells when I think about how much I love him. Another reason I think I’m content at home is because it takes a lot of work to get out! Just timing Liam’s feedings, naps, bedtime, etc. is exhausting when you’re trying to fit it in to an outing. It makes you reevaluate if you really want to leave the house or not! <br />
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I’m afraid this post is sounding like I’ve become a grumpy hobbit. I hope I haven’t. Its just that I’ve noticed how much more content I am at home when I used to look for reasons to get out of the house and play with friends.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-1174192201549983012011-07-01T12:22:00.002-05:002011-07-01T12:22:40.004-05:00daily breadYesterday was a rough day. I woke up at 5:23 to feed Liam for the nineteenth time that night (ok, it was really the third) and just felt like I weighed 1,000 pounds. You know that kind of tired where you feel like you’re moving in slow motion and you just want to sit in a puddle and cry? It was that kind of tired. The thought of a whole day of nursing every two or three hours, changing diapers and taking 20-30 minutes to put Liam down for a nap each time was overwhelming. By the time I finish the process, its time to start over!<br />
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Anyway, I usually talk to God or get on Facebook when I’m nursing. This time I was talking to God. I asked him to give me grace for the day. I asked for my daily bread. But then I thought about it and I was afraid my allotment of daily bread would not be enough. I always like to be prepared and have more than what I think I’ll need, no matter what it is I think I’ll need. I never leave the house without at least a granola bar. And I was afraid I wouldn’t have enough to make it though the day if God just gave me my daily bread. You know I’m not talking about literal bread, right? <br />
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I knew that I was being ridiculous when it came down to it. I was telling the God who owns “the cattle on a thousand hills” that I didn’t think he was going to provide enough grace to make it through a couple of hours of nursing and changing diapers. Didn’t I remember that my God is bigger than that? I forget so quickly. <br />
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Another reason I was feeling like I was at the end of my rope is that my sleep hasn’t been very good lately. Aside from the not getting more than 2 hours of sleep in a row, ever, I’ve had a really hard time falling asleep and when I do sleep, I’ve been having nightmares almost every night. I used to have nightmares throughout college and for a couple of years after. They got a lot better for the last few years but cropped up again after Liam was born. Maybe its just the extra concern I have now that I’m responsible for this child, I don’t know. <br />
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My mom called twice yesterday and I just happened to be crying both times- ha! I ended up going over to their house in the afternoon and had a nice time, eating strawberries and laying on the couch while she sopped up Liam with a biscuit. She prayed with me about the sleep, the nightmares, my family’s future and a whole lot more. I even prayed, too. I haven’t prayed out loud much lately and there is something powerful when you say some things out loud. I left her house feeling so much better. I was full from my daily bread.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-69299282411450082742011-06-27T15:28:00.000-05:002011-06-27T15:28:12.956-05:00DiscoveryI’ve discovered or re-discovered a few things in the past weeks. <br />
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1. The first or second night home with Liam, I was up feeding him in the middle of the night. I could not believe how much I love this kid and how I would do anything for him for the rest of my life. But then I thought about my own mom. How she was sitting up in the middle of the night thirty years ago thinking the same thing. It dawned on me that my mom feels the same way about me. She shows me her love every day, but it was really clear to me when I was sitting there, staring at Liam. There is a special bond between a mom and her children. <br />
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2. Liam is usually great in the car, either happily looking around or snoozing. But the other day, he was so tired and just cried and cried on the way home from a friend’s house. He had never done that in the car before and I was beyond stressed out by my poor little guy being so tired and sad. Liam loves my singing (the only person in the world who does!), so I started singing “Jesus Loves Me” to him. I just kept singing it over and over and suddenly the mood in the car shifted. I listened to the words of the song. I had been singing it to Liam- letting him know that Jesus loves him. But I realized that Jesus loves me too. I had forgotten. Liam was still crying, nothing had changed, but everything had changed in a moment. <br />
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3. I can’t do this alone. Kyle and I are a team and we work so much better as a team. Its very hard for me to ask for help. Not just the “will you bring me my water” kind of help, but the “I need you” kind of help. Being home with Liam has been wonderful and I have cherished my time with him. But some days, after spending all night and all day with him, I really look forward to Kyle coming home so I can talk to an adult and just sit next to him. I need him to help with Liam and give me a break, but I also just need him to be near. And for some reason, that is really hard to say. <br />
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There are other things I wish I had learned during this time. “Don’t sweat the small stuff” is top of that list. I think I’ve gotten better at it in some ways. It doesn’t bother me when I get sprayed with pee or if Liam poops in his diaper 1.7 seconds after I change it. But there are other things I wish I could just roll with (like the whole eating every three hours thing from yesterday’s post. Incidentally, he’s been eating every three hours today- ha!). I want to be one of those moms that doesn’t get ruffled and I feel like I fail at that half the time. I know I’m new at this and Liam is new at this, so there is room to grow. I’ve never been very laidback to begin with, so this is a goal to strive toward. I’m not looking to turn into a wavy haired surfer that says things like “right on” and just seems to wander wherever she is. But I want to be able to take a step back and determine if something is really worth the time I spend stewing over it. <br />
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These two pictures are from last Sunday when Liam got baptized!In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-82706188853321906302011-06-26T14:31:00.002-05:002011-06-26T14:31:31.475-05:00BabyWise*Disclaimer: I keep wanting to find things to write about that are not baby-centered but I can’t come up with anything. I didn’t want to be one of those people who can talk about nothing but their baby. But I spend all day and all night feeding, burping, changing and loving Liam so he’s naturally going to be the main topic of this blog in the foreseeable future. <br />
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The book, Babywise, is in my head. I read it when I was pregnant and even typed up several pages of notes on it, if that gives you an insight into my personality. I wanted to read everything I could before Liam was born so I’d be prepared. It’s a good book (but I like Baby Whisperer better) and there are some points I really like: <br />
~ Make sure baby gets a full feeding every time so he’s not just snacking and wanting to eat again in 20 minutes (missing the “hindmilk” if he doesn’t nurse long enough). <br />
~ Follow a pattern of Eat, Awake Time, Sleep so they can get used to going to sleep on their own and not expect to be nursed to sleep when they are toddlers. <br />
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But the book says that Baby should be eating every three hours during the day and that’s where my problem lies. Liam has been eating every 2 or 2.5 hours during the day. But the books says he should eat every THREE hours. I’m a pretty structured person, so when someone says three hours, I expect three hours. But in this case, A+B is not equaling C and its gotten to me! I keep making declarations that I won’t worry about the clock and just feed him when he’s hungry. But then I start looking at the clock again. Kyle and I react to the three-hour suggestion differently: <br />
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My reaction- “Liam’s hungry. What time is it? Oh, no, its only been 2 hours and thirty minutes! Maybe I can hold him off with the pacifier. Its supposed to be three hours and its only been 2 hours and thirty minutes. The pacifier isn’t working. But it supposed to be three hours and now its only been 2 hours and thirty-one minutes!” This is what goes through my head each time. <br />
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Kyle’s reaction- “Liam’s hungry? Well feed him.” <br />
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I wish I could unwind my brain. I want to write a book on infants. This is what it will say: <br />
<br />
Feed Baby when he’s hungry, change his diaper when its dirty, and love the socks off him. <br />
The EndIn the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-72811724393684245022011-06-07T12:43:00.001-05:002011-06-07T14:03:22.560-05:00Birth DayIts been one month since Liam came into the world! I love this kid so much and am amazed at how much love I had for him the first second I saw him. <br />
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Liam’s due date was May 9. For five weeks, the doctor had been saying he could come “any time” because I was 2cm dilated and 70% effaced. That is not the thing to say to a miserable pregnant woman- especially when the baby keeps <i>not</i> coming any time! <br />
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We went for our regular checkup on Liam’s due date and set an appointment for the next week. If he didn’t come by then, we’d set a date to induce. The next morning, I woke up at 3:00am with contractions every 6 minutes. That lasted for about two hours and then the contractions got sporadic, some were 3 minutes apart, some were 11. That went on for about two more hours. I called in to work, saying I “wasn’t feeling well” and that I wasn’t coming in. I didn’t want to say I’d been having contractions in case they stopped! <br />
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Finally, the contractions started coming consistently 3-5 minutes apart. We stayed at home for about 3 more hours and then headed to the hospital, checking in at noon and my mom met us up there. When we checked in, I was 4cm dilated. I labored until 4:00pm and then decided to get an epidural at 7cm. It was the best decision of my life! I had planned on trying to do an un-medicated birth but I’m so glad I did the epidural after all. After the epidural, my blood pressure dropped to 80/45 so they gave me a shot of something that started with an “e” and gave me oxygen. This happened twice but wasn’t really alarming (not sure if I should have been alarmed). <br />
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At 8:00pm, I started to push and the nurse said the baby would be here by 8:30 or 9:00! I needed Kyle and my mom there the whole time, but it was during the pushing that I was so thankful for them. They were perfect. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Kyle was feeding me ice chips like in the movies and both of them helped me with each push. I am so blessed. <br />
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Liam finally came at 10:09pm (not 8:30 or 9:00 like they said!) and I was flooded with such love for him the second I saw him. The doctor put him up on my chest and I was laughing, Kyle and Liam were crying. Liam kept touching my face. I know he didn’t have muscle control but he kept reaching up and touching my face and I was in love. <br />
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The took Liam for a little while and weighed him and cleaned him up, but it was all done in the delivery room so Kyle stood by him and I watched from the bed while the doctor cleaned me up. <br />
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As I look back, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But it was all worth it. When Liam arrived, it was a holy moment, one I will never forget. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtchDjv86B6831m5GLEbi0quabJjUn6KRdinOq4QykLWUCeqR6NB45K2IP9LdgWGyfFpBwPfJ8VeL4ZK9-GBQTwFuzOMprG38IXLPHIkfwHV5-p1t0K7OfZq2IfFn8LObKf-ar8wMFXBsC/s1600/Liam+Westfall+%252849%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtchDjv86B6831m5GLEbi0quabJjUn6KRdinOq4QykLWUCeqR6NB45K2IP9LdgWGyfFpBwPfJ8VeL4ZK9-GBQTwFuzOMprG38IXLPHIkfwHV5-p1t0K7OfZq2IfFn8LObKf-ar8wMFXBsC/s320/Liam+Westfall+%252849%2529.JPG" /></a></div>In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-18587632298877220052011-04-27T16:13:00.002-05:002011-04-27T16:13:18.013-05:0038.5 weeksWell, I’m 38 ½ weeks pregnant and didn’t think I’d still be pregnant. Since I’ve been dilated, effaced, and having contractions for 3 weeks, I was pretty sure Baby was going to be making his debut sooner. The last 3 weeks were rough for me emotionally and I’m not entirely sure why. I am just tired and sore and feeling out of sorts. <br />
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Something that bothers me that I will have to remember when friends and family members are pregnant is that people keep telling me when I can and can’t have the baby. Everyone keeps saying, “oh, you can’t have him on ___ day because I’ll be out of town” or “you have to have him on ___ day, I just know you will.” For some reason, that has become really irritating and I think its because I actually take it to heart and start to stress out when the day comes that I’m either supposed to or not supposed to go into labor. I think its time to turn off the people pleaser side of my personality. <br />
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I’ve been stewing again about having an epidural or not. My whole life I’ve said I don’t want to have one. Billions of women have had babies without medication. Epidurals can slow down labor and are linked with an increased chance of having to have a c-section, which are two reasons I don’t want one. But then I start wondering if I’ll really be able to do it without an epi. I have fibromyalgia and worry that I’ll just lose steam and not be able to finish. I feel like there isn’t a right answer and am praying that I’ll just know what’s right when the time comes. Just don’t tell me that I “don’t get a medal” for doing it without an epi. I’m not doing it for a medal so leave me alone (can you tell I’ve heard that one a lot?) <br />
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Wow, this entry has turned into a rant. I’m really not as bitter as I may have come across. I’m just tired and want to meet this kid!In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-67570652956404087112011-04-04T10:20:00.000-05:002011-04-04T10:20:18.072-05:00Enjoy LifeThe last coherent words my grandpa spoke to me were, "enjoy life." I don't remember if I have blogged about it before but my mom and I went out to CA to help take care of him as he was dying from cancer. The last time I saw him sitting up was at their dining room table. He told me he had one piece of advice for me. I was expecting him to suggest reading my Bible more or something along those lines (he was, after all, a pastor for 50+ years). But he simply told me, "Courtney, I want you to enjoy life." <br />
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Of all the things he could have said, this was probably the most profound for me. He knew that I tend to major in the minors, get bogged down with details, and take myself too seriously at times. I've spent the last few years trying to figure out what it means to enjoy life (and still be responsible- ha!). <br />
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I've been teetering on the edge of enjoying life with this pregnancy, especially in the last few days and weeks. I am so excited to meet this little guy and I love him so much. But I feel so crappy and experience moments of anxiety. This baby is wedged in there pretty tight and is sitting in a "transverse" position (side to side instead of up and down). So, even though I've been having contractions since Thursday, nothing's going to happen until he shifts. And then I start to worry about what will happen if he does shift and I go into labor early. This baby has got to bake a little longer! I have decided to stop looking up stuff on the internet about transverse babies because I start thinking about it too much. <br />
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I want to enjoy these last few weeks of pregnancy. How do I do that when I feel awful? I have this amazing miracle growing inside of me and I want to celebrate it but I find myself feeling guilty. Guilty that I can't make him turn, that I can't stand for more than two minutes without getting light headed and seeing spots. Guilty that I can't do the dozens of things around the house that "need" to get done before he comes. I don't know how to turn that part of my brain off. Kyle has been so good with all of this and has been really strict with making me rest, which is the only way I actually sit down and rest. <br />
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Where is the balance of savoring these last few weeks of "in the meantime" before Liam comes? I <i>want</i> to make the most of it but that's as far as I've gotten. I <i>want</i> a different perspective, but I don't know what the first step is.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-17777909000645954972011-04-01T12:50:00.000-05:002011-04-01T12:50:57.238-05:00progressWell, it seems as though things are progressing. I have been having cramps since last Thursday and the nurse just said to drink more water and rest. I woke up Monday and they were worse. My regular appointment was scheduled for Tuesday and my doctor was out of town so I met with another doctor. He said the cramps would stop in about 6 weeks when I have the baby. Nice. <br />
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But then I woke up at 2am yesterday, feeling what I could only imagine to be contractions. I went in to my doctor and he said they were, indeed, contractions (which was a relief because I would have been embarrassed if he said it was nothing!) and that I’m dilated to 1cm and 70% effaced. He said before I panic, it doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll go into hard labor any time soon, but that I’m progressing. He didn’t give me any medicine to stop the contractions and said Liam would be fine even if he came this early (he’s measuring 5 pounds, 12 ounces- about 1 pound bigger than “average.”). <br />
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I was trying to run errands today, still trying to figure out what it means to “rest”. I was at Ulta because my coupon expires today and started getting cold sweats and ringing in my ears. I got tunnel vision and an employee came up at just the right time to catch me as I was going down. She walked me to a chair and I started throwing up (she got me a trashcan just in time!). It was hard not to freak out but I called Kyle to come get me and called the doctor’s office. The nurse called back and told me just to go home and rest, drink water, and eat protein. <br />
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So, that’s what I’m doing. Resting. Drinking water. Mom’s bringing over lunch. I can’t wait to meet Liam and part of me wants him to come early. But we have SO MUCH to do before he comes! Kyle is trying to finish the bathroom remodel and I have 3 big assignments left for my online class that I’m trying to get done before he comes. The last one is due May 20, which is why I’m trying to get this all done now! <br />
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Its so funny how I’m seeing how hard it is to relax and rest. I’m learning a lot about myself and how controlling I am!In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-51699564194154902172011-03-24T11:59:00.000-05:002011-03-24T11:59:03.907-05:00In-Laws In-TownKyle's parents are in town for a few days and we've put them to work! Kyle and his dad are completely remodeling our front bathroom. They finished demolition yesterday and are starting to re-wire all the electricity, fix plumbing, install a new toilet, re-tile the floor and tub, put up new drywall, paint, etc. Kyle's mom has already painted our changing table (that his dad made!), cleaned like mad, and is going to wash all the baby clothes so they'll be ready for Liam. What am I doing, you ask? I'm blogging. At work. <br />
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I feel bad that they come all the way here from Indiana just to work but they assure me that they want to do projects. They're good people. <br />
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We have a baby shower tonight that my parent's Sunday School class is throwing. I'm really excited. We planned it so Sandi (Kyle's mom) would be in town for it. We have been so blessed by baby showers. If I can figure out how to post pictures to the blog, I might just post some later this week.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-82970146909618325562011-03-19T11:35:00.000-05:002011-03-19T11:37:18.494-05:00Saturday!I slept in until 8:30 today and it felt so good! I can’t remember the last time I slept ‘till 8:30. Now that I’m “old,” my body wakes up at 7:00am no matter what. Plus, I go to bed so early that I naturally wake up early. Being pregnant has been an excuse to go to bed early (I barely make it to 9:00 or 9:30 most nights!) but I’ve always needed to go to bed earlier than most. <br /><br />I finished all my homework for my online class this morning, and that felt good, too. I’m taking the last class I need toward ordination with the United Methodist Church, even though I don’t think I’ll actually pursue ordination… Long story, but after I graduated from Seminary, there were three classes I still needed to take if I ever want to be ordained. My church has been so generous to pay for the classes and I am halfway through my last one! The only thing is, it ends on May 20th and I am due May 9th so I’m having to work ahead and complete my two big projects a month ahead of time! <br /><br />Kyle and I are hopefully going to the movies today with some friends and grilling out afterward (depending on if one friend is feeling better today). I feel like we’re trying to pack fun activities before Liam comes, since we’ll probably be hunkering down for a while after he’s born. I love movies! I love grilling! <br /><br />This blog seems to be more of a “dear diary” post than anything of real importance, but that’s what’s going on with me today.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-87574080714614671362011-03-17T14:40:00.000-05:002011-03-17T14:41:58.667-05:00SlowToday is really quiet around the church. I knew it would be slow so I brought my exercise clothes and walked the track in the Youth and Family Center. Just a mile but at least it was something. I've gotten slower and slower and can't seem to do anything about it!In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-23744737827486974422011-03-16T12:07:00.001-05:002011-03-16T12:07:47.406-05:00HealingA topic that has come up in a few conversations over the last two weeks is healing. I think about physical healing a lot, since I have lived with chronic pain every day for the last 18 years. <br /><br />This pregnancy has been much more difficult (physically) than I had ever dreamed and I had asked some people at our staff meeting to pray for my ribs and back. As I’m continually expanding, the muscles are pulling away from the ribcage and have caused nerve pain. I’ve never had nerve pain before and this is some of the most excruciating and exhausting pain I’ve ever experienced. Anyway, not the point of the story…<br /><br />After I asked for prayer, a friend was telling me that his wife had a similar thing happen when she was pregnant and we started talking about healing. He mentioned that sometimes, we can be healed despite having a cure for what is hurting. As I’ve been letting that thought percolate in my head the last few weeks, I feel like this is a theme that has been woven into my life. <br /><br />I have prayed for physical healing for more than half of my life. At ORU, I stood up at every chapel, asking God to heal me. I even went to a Benny Hinn crusade willing to do anything to be healed! Nothing ever happened. I thought that faith was like a thermometer and if I could just get my faith up to a certain degree, God was obligated to heal me (that needs to be another post later). <br /><br />However, hindsight has proved 20/20. Although I live in pain all the time, I truly believe that God has healed me, just not in the ways I hoped for. Living with pain has shaped me into the person that I am today. I would not be the same if I had lived my life pain-free. <br /><br />In so many Christian circles, we talk about healing and paint God into a corner. Either heal us or don’t. I am beginning to see that sometimes it can be both. I’m not physically healed from chronic pain, but my soul, the depth of who I am, is healed and whole, partly because of living through this experience. <br /><br />So, while I would take healing and energy the second it was offered, I am reminded that so much healing comes without a cure.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-63856994082808835012010-11-16T13:59:00.001-06:002010-11-16T14:02:33.642-06:00Update on RushingI have 4 days left of being in my 20's and am really trying to get this "no rushing through life" thing started before it becomes my real New Year's Resolution on November 21. And I will say, I think I've made progress. I keep catching myself rushing and I stop, take a deep breath and try to slow down. Not sure if its the pregnancy or what, but it doesn't take much to get my heart racing so its a good reminder to stop and breathe. <br /><br />I've been getting awful headaches every day and can't figure out anything that will help them. Tylenol is about all I can take so I've been taking that, but it only takes the edge off. They say headaches are common during pregnancy, and since I've had them my whole life, I guess they are just having a heyday now that I've got hormones surging through my body!In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-80605597933467285102010-11-10T12:50:00.000-06:002010-11-10T12:57:02.613-06:00New Year's ResolutionI realized something last night over dinner: I am turning THIRTY in a week and a half. I’ve known for several years that I will be turning thirty this year but it somehow crept up on me none-the-less. What a shock! <br /><br />As I was brushing my teeth last night, I decided to make a new year’s resolution for this next year of my life. If I had to guess, I would say I’ve spent 85% of my life rushing. Not because I’m late, I’m actually very punctual. But for some reason, I do everything in fast forward. If I’m brushing my teeth, I’m trying to multitask and put on my shoes, find jewelry and ½ a dozen other things so I don’t “waste time.” If I’m driving, I rush. Even if it means I’m 15 minutes early to something, I still rush to get there. When I watch a tv show, I get up during every commercial and load the dishwasher, change the laundry, lay out clothes for the next day, just to “do” something. <br /><br />Its been this way as long as I can remember but I want to find a way to de-program that out of my life this next year. Maybe having a baby will help. Maybe it will make it harder. I don’t know. But I do know that rushing just makes me uptight and feeling like there is always something else I “should” be doing to make my time worthwhile. <br /><br />Kyle is the exact opposite and I hope to somehow learn from his unhurried ways. I am convinced that life would be more pleasant if I was not in a constant rush to get through it.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-17430374528185788572010-10-29T09:16:00.001-05:002010-10-29T09:27:44.583-05:00GermsI'm wanting to start blogging consistently but the only things I can think to blog about are how sick I've been with morning sickness... So that's where I'll start and see if I can branch off from there. <br /><br />I have hit several "lows" during the last 7 weeks of morning-noon-and-night sickness and I keep thinking they are too gross to post. But one is particularly noteworthy, since I think it helped me with my extreme phobia to germs. <br /><br />Kyle and I drove to Indiana for a wedding and stopped in Columbus, OH to see his sister afterward. Then we drove through Lexington, KY to have lunch with friends, and on down to Knoxville, TN before coming home. It was so nice to see so many friends but I had never been so sick in all my life. I would have paid anything or done anything to be out of the car. I have these great little doggy bags that you're supposed to use to pick up after your dog. I use them for vomit. The whole 5 days in the car, Kyle would drive and I would vomit into my doggy bag, tie it off, and put it in the floorboard until our next stop. But in Muncie, IN, I was desperately sick and needed to go to the bathroom, if you know what I mean. <br /><br />I told Kyle to pull over immediately, which happened to be at a Shell gas station. I ran in, and to my dismay, it was a one-seater bathroom for men and women. And it was locked. After a minute, a giant, fat, ugly man came out, freeing up the bathroom for me. By this time, I was beyond desperate and ran in, locked the door and sat down- right on the toilet. No toilet paper, no hovering, just plopped down on the seat. It was at this moment that I realized I was going to throw up, too and I had to grab the dingy, plastic trashcan from the corner. It was the kind with a swivel lid, so I had to use my hand to hold the sticky, grimy lid down to throw up in it! <br /><br />In any other circumstance, you could not have paid me to touch anything in that bathroom, but that day, I was forced to face my germaphobia and dive right in to the cesspool that was the Shell bathroom.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6018943458627186534.post-64108796371153545092010-10-18T14:57:00.000-05:002010-10-18T15:02:12.588-05:003rd Grade Science LessonSome of the kids at church are starting to find out that I’m pregnant. After finding out my news last Wednesday night, one of the 3rd grade boys came up to me and told me he knows how people get pregnant. I was afraid I was in for a very awkward conversation or else news about the stork bringing babies. <br /><br />The boy said, “Everyone has an egg inside of them. And then, these little swimmy things, I think they’re called swerms, crack the egg open and go inside and make a baby.” What do you say to that?! I told him he was exactly right.In the Meantimehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10552228612625171024noreply@blogger.com0