"Happy" Mother's Day

It is my first Mother’s Day today and I have never needed my mother so much. My mother tried hard to be here even before I knew I wanted her to be, but she couldn’t. She’s far away. So instead I am alone. I sit here on the bathroom floor alone. I cry in my first Mother’s Day. It is week 15 of pregnancy and week 9 of the 24/7 stomach flu. Just when it’s supposed to be going away, week 9 turns out to be the worst week yet. I have cried more this week than I have the whole pregnancy. So far, I have been mostly courageous, patient, and stoic. This week even getting out of bed is overwhelming enough to elicit tears of despair. I cannot get enough sleep. I cannot eat. I am now eating only a quarter or less than the usual amount of food in my diet. I have lost 2-3 pounds this week alone. I am worried about my baby, but have no real reason to go to the doctor. No real answers or hope of my situation changing. I am worried about my sanity. And right now when I need help the most, I am alone.

My poor husband is at the end of his rope with my constant stomach emergencies. As seen in my writing, it is all about me. I don’t know how to change that. I live in a constant state of survival. I am trying so hard, but this week especially I cannot meet his needs and need him to meet too many of mine. There is no one else to support me and he is doing it alone. He is beginning to resent that and I understand. But I am alone. My mother has done her best to encourage me from afar and to try to come to me. But she is not here. She cannot shield me from things nor can she hold me while I cry. I am alone. My mother-in-law has made it repeatedly clear this week that she resents the work and money my presence has thrust upon her and cannot get past her own resentment to see my struggle. I cannot be the perfect daughter-in-law, though I have tried so hard. For a year of living with them, I have tried. I cannot keep my space clean when I cannot even eat. She is not there. I tried to share shopping for a crib with her and she blows me off. I tried to share buying a crib with her; desperately needed someone to celebrate buying a crib with me. She doesn’t care. She didn’t even want to see it. I tried to tell her my agony this morning. She looks at me and asks, “are you sick or just pregnancy sick?” Just? Do you have any idea what 9 weeks of the stomach flu are like? No, she doesn’t actually. She was never stomach sick with her kids. I start to crack and tell her politely that I am so tired of being sick. I’m sure she can see the despair in my eyes. She flippantly tells me to get some rest and walks away. No sympathy there. Who is left? I am alone. My God who loves me and cares for me is there. But right now honestly, I want someone in the flesh. I want someone to be a mother for me on this Mother’s Day when it is too much to face alone being one myself.

So here I sit on the bathroom floor at 7:00 in the morning. I am supposed to be at church singing of love, faith, and the goodness of God. Yet, I cannot even steal myself to leave this warm, safe bathroom. I am supposed to be in bed “getting some rest” and cuddling with my husband. Yet, I cannot stop or hide my tears and I dare not wake him up for fear of seeing that resentment in his eyes. If I can’t sleep, I should at least be getting the house ready for Mother’s Day dinner to make up for not going to church today. After all, I’m sure my mother-in-law has already added this morning to her lists of resentments. But there is something so cold and big and alone about downstairs. I cannot face it. So I sit in my tiny warm bathroom, which feels safe and oddly comforting. Maybe it’s the amount of time the toilet and I have spent together lately. I am surrounded by tissues and feeling quite sorry for myself. Yet, I cannot feel guilty. I am mourning. I am mourning my loss of a mother. I am grown. I now have to face my nightmare alone. And that is reason enough to cry.

What would have changed today? Rejoicing. God just blessed me with a gorgeous baby crib for next to nothing. It is a huge mile marker. Celebrations quickly turn sour when there is no one else to celebrate with.

A card. Yes, I know I do not have a baby in my arms, but I am sacrificing enough for a child to be considered a mother. This is my first Mother’s Day. My mother has tried to send a card. Thank you, Mom. Of course, my mother-in-law has not even considered myself or my sister-in-law with her new baby as things to be celebrated on Mother’s Day. My husband in true manly fashion honestly has no idea. He will be wonderful next year, but he has no idea of my need now. And I would rather not receive something from him than to ask yet another thing of him. So I expect nothing.

Some sympathy. Just because I’ve felt sick for 9 weeks, does not mean I am used to it. It does not mean that I do not have especially bad days. It does not mean that I do not need a hug or even a heartfelt “I’m sorry.” Just because I receive this comfort from strangers and acquaintances does not mean that that is enough. I cannot do this myself. I need help and support and love.

So am I writing this to gain yet more sympathy from strangers and friends who read this? No. That is the last thing I need. It is mortifying for me to put such a selfish piece onto a public blog. I'd rather hide in my warm bathroom and pity myself. But we need truth. The mothers who feel forgotten, my mother who I never thanked enough, they need you to know this. The young mothers who are struggling with the hardships of pregnancy, they need support and love. The family members of these moms who don’t understand, they need to understand and they need to love. And the young moms like me who are so ready to give up, you need to know you are not alone. And it is worth it. Do I really believe that this morning? No. Is it normal to not believe that? Yes. What I want to do this morning is to stop fighting, stop eating, just throw up and stay in bed. Just give up, get so sick that either the hospital will take care of me and I can get rest or I lose this baby and I’m done. Sound over dramatic? No, I actually had these thoughts. Yet, even this morning, every part of my being screams that it is worth it. I cannot give up. I must keep fighting for every meal to stay down for my baby. I must keep working to make the money that will support my baby. I must keep fighting for my marriage so that my baby has a good strong home.

After years of never quite understanding why we celebrate Mother’s Day, I now understand. I also understand that it cannot and will not ever be celebrated enough. Mothers will always be under appreciated, always be alone, but it is their refusal to give up that makes Mother’s Day worth celebrating. Maybe this won’t be my last Mother’s Day that I will celebrate alone on the bathroom floor with tears, but even today I will celebrate the gift of motherhood and Mother’s Day that God has given to me.

Priorities

It is so funny how quickly your life can change around. Just a few months ago my dream was to work as a worship director at a church. I was loving working at my church. I was beyond excited for the challenge of my hopefully upcoming job at another church. Then I got pregnant. Now I don't have time for my work at the church and it has frankly sunk way low on my priority list. I am dreading, dreading, dreading the possibility of getting the job at the other church. How in the world can my lifelong dreams change in a few short months? I knew in theory that it stinks to work when you have children, but now I know it on a whole new level. Right now, there is nothing in my mind besides getting through pregnancy and raising my child. Everything else is just taking from that time. Do I still want that job? Well yes, because I know I would regret not getting it, I'll want it more someday soon, and it really is the best option financially right now. Although one of the biggest reasons is because if I took that job I would be able to stay home with my baby. Pathetic, maybe. As much as I don't want our lives to revolve around our children, I just can't help being singleminded at the moment. Some of that could be because it's hard to look at the world around you when your heads in the toilet, but not all.

Here's the weirdest thing. I'm experiencing this on a level of the inevitable loss of independence from having children. I'm actually saddened that my life has taken this turn and almost yearning for life to go back to normal. Of course, only almost because I wouldn't change my baby for anything in the world. But still, I wonder if my life will ever get back to normal. Will I ever have my own goals and dreams again or will my life just be centered around my family? I can't help but think that neither extreme is healthy. I mean while I am terrified of becoming a Stepford Wife, I still wouldn't miss my baby's life by being a professional mom. At the same time, I don't want to give up my God-given calling just because I'm happier with my kids. Hopefully I'll be able to find a better balance. For now I will go on waiting for things to fall into place and trying not to be stressed out by the future. Yeah, easier said than done. I have visions of being up all night Saturday for the fourth night in a row with the baby and having to get up early to make a service happen. Bleh. Our mother's were truly super heroes. I'm not even thinking quality right now, but merely hoping I can do this.

On a side note, I have noticed that most of my posts lately have been negative and about change. Maybe because I'm a pretty negative person and my life is all about change right now, but still no fun. :) So, here's an update on baby bean. It is almost 3 inches long. It has arms, legs, joints, and can even suck it's thumb. It's moving around all over the place twitching and getting the nerves ready to move muscles and just starting to learn how to command it's muscles to do things. Researchers say that if you could see it or feel it, you would start being able to detect a personality. It really is a little person even though it's only 3 inches long. Amazing. In the next four to five weeks, I'll hopefully be able to feel it. On the outside, it has given me a wonderful (sarcastic) early baby bump. Which is really awkward when people notice my bump, ask how far along I am, and then get this puzzled look when I say only 11 weeks. Oh well, the bump was inevitable and enables me to wear super comfy maternity pants. It's actually starting to be a good and exciting experience. Thank goodness!

A Miracle of God's Love

She had been married for five years, when my good friend looked at me and asked with innocent honesty, "I hear all of these songs on the radio about loving someone so much you can't imagine life without them, wanting to always be with them, loving them no matter what. Are those songs true or is it just a fairytale? Does that love really exist between other couples? I have never experienced anything like that." Those words broke my heart. What could I say? I couldn't lie to her. When I nodded my head yes and told her brokenly that my husband and I could completey relate to every one of those thoughts I watched her crumple.

They had married straight out of a Christian college. He was a smart, charismatic man who was terrified of the very thought of people seeing the real him. He knew that he had never finished much of anything in life and that he was not always a good person. Instead of facing these facts honestly, he blamed everything on somebody else and took out the resulting guilt on those he loved the most. He never accepted responsibility for anything, but rather tore his wife down to make himself feel better. His verbal abuse took five years to ring a bell of warning in his wife. She had grown up with a verbally abusive father and for her it was just the norm. What's worse, growing up with such abuse, she believed every word of it. They both had big problems, which meant their marriage had bigger problems. The difference was that she was desperately looking for ways to change and to fix it. He was not.

A few weeks later we were at a coffee shop when she looked at me, willing me to understand, and told me she was seriously considering leaving her husband. We both cried. How as a Christian can you think of or promote such an action? Yet, after much prayer and thought, we both knew what she had to do. From the beginning she held out hope that her husband would soon see the error of his ways and be willing to consider changing. She wasn't asking for much. She had no hopes of love, a white picket fence, or even the ability to involve children in their unhealhty marriage, just for safety and honesty. It was very difficult to keep my skeptism to myself. After working with people like her husband for most of my life, I knew that there was no way he was going to change. The chances were a million to one. When someone makes it their lifestyle to avoid truth at all costs, they typically won't change their habits even for their spouses or children. On top of that, I was pretty sure that neither one of them had ever really loved the other. It was a typical case of falling in love with love and the stability of marriage.

My friend and I prayed. We fasted. We read books. They went to counselors. We tried everything. The day came when there was nothing left to try and my friend felt God pushing her to separate. A month later she finally realized what I had been trying to warn her of all along. Her husband was not interested in change. If there was going to be a change, it would not take months to accomplish, but rather years. We both refused to admit defeat, although I think we both were almost out of hope deep down. I kept encouraging her to pray with expectation for God to answer. Funny that you can pray for a miracle and still be surprised when it happens.

Three months ago he moved back in and yet I held on to my skeptism, waiting for everything to blow up again. Today, almost exactly a year from the date where my friend asked me about love, we found ourselves once again at Starbucks. As she casually talked about how they were doing, she unmindfully said something that brought tears to my eyes. She simply said, "I know he loves me..." That was the first time I have ever heard her say that with confidence and truth. Almost a year after my friend realized she would probably lose her farce of a marriage, I listen to her and see that both of my friends have fallen for each other. Wow. When did that happen, God?

Today, they are back together. Her husband is making it a regular habit to admit his mistakes. He is making extreme efforts to fix his marriage and to show love for his wife. She has learned how to be honest and to stand up to her husband with the truth. She is now so used to the happiness and peace at her house that she is shocked when her simple updates move me to tears. They still have their problems. But then, what marriage does not? It is not problems that ruin a marriage, but refusal to face them.

That day she told me about her impending separation, we had both decided to do an experiment. We had nothing left to lose, nothing much left to try, and we felt that God was asking us to simply believe. We would both pray, we would both believe that God would answer our prayers for restoration, and if He chose not to, we would both still believe He was good. I think I prayed more for this than for anything else in my life. How is it then that I am shocked to see it occur? God is truly good. Does that mean life is a bed of roses? Heck no. But it means that we are in good hands. It means that He can heal even the most hopeless situation. It means that not everything turns out like we'd like, but every now and then He pulls out all of the stops and hands us a beautiful gift. Thank you, Father.

People that ever want to be a mom, read at your own risk.

Does it make me a terrible mom that I already hate being pregnant? That I cannot seem to get too excited as of late? That I almost resent this parasite, who I still love dearly, but nevertheless is a parasite that is sucking the life out of me and turning my own body against me? I apparently have been really negative about this whole process lately as people keep trying to cheer me up, telling me how lucky I am and how excited I should be. All I can say is, let me see them be excited when their heads are in the toilet. It's amazing that a tiny ultrasound blob that is only one centimeter long can screw up/bless my life so royally.

I keep trying to come up with reasons to justify why I am not enjoying pregnancy and already dreading the next one (borrowing trouble just a little bit there). I really hate change and this reeks of my typical negative attitude and freaking out that accompanies life changes. Or it could be that my entire body is changing and everything hurts constantly and everyday is a struggle to get through. I mean, when the basics (sleeping, going to the bathroom, eating) are a nightmarish struggle, that is some cause for anxiety. It could be that I'm freaking out about being a parent, although I don't think that's it. I feel pretty prepared and am frankly counting down the days till this baby can come out and at least I can get my stomach back. Maybe it's because I, unlike some girls, have seen a lot of pregnancies and know what to expect. There are no rose-colored glasses guarding me from seeing into the next seven months of happy hell. So what is the deal? Why can't I get excited about this? Maybe I'm just a terrible person.

My theory is that I'm completely normal. You see, the happy things in pregnancy eventually block out the bad. I've seen this with moms who just went through an atrocious delivery process only to forget everything the minute that baby is in their arms. I think women just get to the second trimester of their pregnancy, their body feels better, they can feel their baby kicking, and they just forget how horrible the last four months have been. It's like God-made memory drugs.

So what's the moral of this story? If you'd ever like to have kids, don't talk to someone about their experience until they're well past their first trimester. Better yet, wait till their kids are toddlers and they are reminiscing about the old days of having babies.

In the end, even though I felt really prepared for pregnancy, I really had no idea. I knew at least to some extent how much a baby changes your life once it comes out. I've seen how much that baby takes over your body once you start looking like a whale. However, I was not prepared for how much this baby would change my life starting a mere 10 days after it's conception. I had no idea I'd start running the marathon this early.

Wow, that's a lot of negativity. Don't get me wrong, I am really glad that I'm pregnant and excited for this baby, but right now my brain is kind of caught up in daily survival. When I can make it through a day again semi-normally and I can see/feel this baby more, I think I will be able to get much more excited. The one thing I do know is that my mother was a epic hero, a strong soldier, a superhero. Hope I can measure up...

Or at least make it to the second trimester.

Changes, Changes, and (yep) More Changes!

So let's just recap the changes I've had so far this year. It's about two months in and I have taken over conducting my kids choir and am in charge of their entire program this spring. My husband and I are looking at working in a professional capacity at a church. There's a big change right there we weren't expecting anytime soon! I got a new job and am getting used to not being a bum anymore. I've had to change my schedule completely due to said job. I'm looking at moving in the next few months and even buying a house. Now, you say, what else could possibly change? At least that was what I was saying. Well, I'm pregnant. That's not exactly a tiny change. Funny how you can be trying and still be completely taken by surprise when it actually happens. I guess they do say that it happens when you least expect it.

What's taken me by surprise the most is not the uncertain future of pregnancy or the fact that I'm pregnant, but the effect it's having on me here and now a measily five weeks in. I'm barely pregnant and my life has already changed drastically because of it. My stamina is cut about in half, I need to eat twice as much, I need to drink about twice as much, I need to cut my caffeine in half, I spend most of my life going to the bathroom yet again and, for the first time in my life, I can finally faint like Scarlett O'Hara. After only five weeks! My schedule is completely shot. Every Sunday morning I get up at the crack of dawn to get to the church around dawn and don't end up eating breakfast since food does not sound good that early in the morning. Then I conduct/sing through one rehearsal and two services, sometimes getting a snack but sometimes not, and I'm perfectly fine. Not anymore. Let's just say I was physically done half way through the rehearsal and almost fainted during the service. That would have been a funny scene. The conductor falling in a heap on the floor in the middle of "You're My All in All." I just cannot do what I used to do and it is monumentally frustrating!

Some things still coming up that there's no way I will physically be able to do:
Second service
Two kids choir rehearsals tonight
Conducting again next Sunday
The second half of all future rehearsals
Teaching and conducting all Palm Sunday music
Preparing for Palm Sunday music

Oh, and I saved the best for last! Conducting the entire Easter service three times back to back without a break. And I might even have actual morning sickness by that point and be throwing up. Maybe I should just keep a trash can next to my music stand?! Or run off periodically and tell they congregation we're in intermission?

Oh Lord, help!

Church Meeting Update

Well, I am now a busy, busy lady which is the making for not only fewer blogs, but possibly shorter. Yes, I hear the celebration over the death of my long-windedness. Today I just have a short update. We had our meeting with the transition team (temporary elder board) on Thursday night, which for those of you who have the gall not to read all of my blogs is the church that is condering hiring us as youth pastor and music director. It is still in the get-to-know-you phase and they will probably not talk serious business for several more weeks. However, the meeting went very well and we seemed to impress the transition team. We don't seem to be what they're looking for, but rather what they never dreamed they could have. Apparently, they've had a lot of youth pastors with uninvolved wives who won't move into the area and only stay a year. We got a roar of approval for every one of those things that we said we would do. So we will see. And I am off to get stuff done in my now limited free time. I know everyone else is grieving as much as I am over how short this blog is. It's shameful.

The end of my world as I know it...

I am the whiniest, most ungrateful person in the whole world! I got the job. I actually spent all day Friday crying over it (yes, crying), because I was so not ready to give up my jobless status. Sigh. Eventually resignation set in and I set off to my first day on Monday generally cheerful. It actually went pretty well. I work with two wonderful people, I work in a Christian atmosphere where I actually feel like I can be myself, I like the work ok, and I have a sweet office complete with a door and pretty cherry furniture. As long as I don't think about the 25 hours I'm putting in at the church, 10 hours of driving time (2 hrs/day x 5 days), the 30 hours I'm putting in at work now, the loads of housework, and the new inability to hang out with friends because I now have no free time, I can not freak out and almost enjoy working again. I am trying not to think about how much more time I will spend on church stuff if I get the worship director job and how in the world I'm going to add that in to everything. Or about the fact that I am now making a whopping $40 more a week than I was doing nothing on unemployment.

See, I'm the whiniest girl in the world. So all in all, it's a bittersweet job announcement. If you only think about the job than I have a great new job where I'm learning a lot and have the ability to make all sorts of good connections for our future. It may even help us move closer. But if you look at my life as a whole, I'm just trusting that God knows what He's doing and trying to take one day at a time. "Overwhelmed!" is the word that has been running through my head all weekend. We meet with the church board on Thursday and I will have more information than. I have to admit, if I don't get the church job, than this new job I have is a hinderance not a help and I will basically be very screwed money and insurance wise. I'm just going to trust that God knows what He's doing.