Monday, April 21, 2014
Cricut Giveaway Eeek!
Soooo it has been quite a while since my last post, but there's nothing like a giveaway to get a girl posting again ;) This giveaway is for a Cricut Explore - HEAVEN! If you're interested, check it out here: http://www.theidearoom.net/2014/04/cricut-explore-giveaway.html
Monday, January 23, 2012
Attack!!!!
It is the first morning of the first day of my new life as a better housekeeper, a more organized person, a neater me and most importantly a "drawn closer" daughter of the King!
I wake up early, excitment verberating through my mind and body. I'm going to get dressed, have some actual quiet time to refresh my spirit and draw close to the Lord, shore up my strength for the battle and start reading the first day of my new personal challenge "31 Days to Clean: Having a Martha House the Mary Way" which you can find at http://31daystoclean.com
Aaaachooooooo! Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!Achoo!Achoo!Achoo! Ugh, right away I'm off to a bad start as my allergies organize a massive attack before I even swing my feet out of bed. My eyes are swollen, my nose is running and my brain is dizzy from all of the sneezing.
But I push through, I get dressed, let the dog out, stumble into the kitchen to get my meds and low and behold there is my daughter standing at the top of the stairs, up almost an hour earlier than normal... AAAAAAAuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhh!
Briefly I contemplate telling her to go back to her room until I come up to get her, but then Guilt whispers, "What kind of mother would do that?!" "A desperate one!" I grumble back.
I finally settle for getting my daughter set up watching some mind numbing cartoons at a very low volume so I can have some semi-quiet time with God and read Day 1. While doing that my 18 mos starts screaming, not just crying screaming! from her room, again another child up almost an hour earlier than normal, what is going on?!?!?
This time I give Guilt a body slam and decide to leave the baby alone, after all she can't get out of her room like my 4yr old, so she *has* to stay put until I get her and she can't argue with me, although I suppose screaming counts as arguing...sigh, well maybe I can tune that out...
I sit down, "God what is going on?!" And then it hits me, I'm under attack, a full blown organized, precisely orchestrated attack.
If I am distracted long enough, the Enemy knows from past experience that I will give up, retreat, run away...
Bwahahahahaha, NOT today Enemy, you're in for a suprise! I am rallying my snuffly rag tag forces and pushing through! I've even cancelled going to my Monday morning Moms Coffee to make sure I get this right. Nyah Nyah...I must confess I feel a bit like that scene in Braveheart where they moon the enemy troops :)
I may not get my full sweet hour of prayer, but I recently read in another blog
Raising Homemakers : Quiet Times for Desperate Mothers a fabulous idea based on this verse:
Exodus 16:4,18 says, “I will rain bread from heaven for you; the people shall go out and gather a day’s portion every day…He who gathered much had no excess and he who gathered little had no lack.”
Basically God provided sustenance for His people as they wandered the desert, but He provided EXACTLY what they needed for that PRESENT day, regardless of whether they "stocked up" or only gathered the smallest bit, it was enough for the whole day!
If God would provide for the physical needs of His people, why on earth would we thinkg Him not capable of providing our spiritual sustenance?! He knows our life. He sees as we come under fire everytime we try to take one step closer to Him. Do you think he would leave us alone, stranded, being cut down by enemy fire, unable to get to the safety of His arms?
He is NOT an aloof God, sitting watching us from afar wringing His hands, saying, "Oh IF only they had the strength to get to Me, sigh, I guess they'll never make it...." NO!! What a twisted thought process we have to think that, another attack from the enemy. God is in the trenches with us, just waiting for us to finally accept His help, not waiting for us to fight off the enemy alone.
So don't forgo your time with God because the kids wake up early, or the dishwasher breaks and floods the kitchen, or whatever other attacks the Enemy may attempt to turn you away from your goal, drawing closer to God. Take the five minutes you can carve out, even if you only get to read one verse, carry it in your mind all day, meditate on it and God will provided all of the sustenance you need for this day.
Ok, I'm off to carve out my five minutes...Father, I'm asking You to provide for me, just as You did Your people in the desert. I am in the desert right now spiritually and only You can lead me out, into the promised land flowing with milk and honey. Give me wisdom, please, to see where You lead me and strength to follow You. Amen.
I wake up early, excitment verberating through my mind and body. I'm going to get dressed, have some actual quiet time to refresh my spirit and draw close to the Lord, shore up my strength for the battle and start reading the first day of my new personal challenge "31 Days to Clean: Having a Martha House the Mary Way" which you can find at http://31daystoclean.com
Aaaachooooooo! Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!Achoo!Achoo!Achoo! Ugh, right away I'm off to a bad start as my allergies organize a massive attack before I even swing my feet out of bed. My eyes are swollen, my nose is running and my brain is dizzy from all of the sneezing.
But I push through,
Briefly I contemplate telling her to go back to her room until I come up to get her, but then Guilt whispers, "What kind of mother would do that?!" "A desperate one!" I grumble back.
I finally settle for getting my daughter set up watching some mind numbing cartoons at a very low volume so I can have some semi-quiet time with God and read Day 1. While doing that my 18 mos starts screaming, not just crying screaming! from her room, again another child up almost an hour earlier than normal, what is going on?!?!?
This time I give Guilt a body slam and decide to leave the baby alone, after all she can't get out of her room like my 4yr old, so she *has* to stay put until I get her and she can't argue with me, although I suppose screaming counts as arguing...sigh, well maybe I can tune that out...
I sit down,
If I am distracted long enough, the Enemy knows from past experience that I will give up, retreat, run away...
Bwahahahahaha, NOT today Enemy, you're in for a suprise! I am rallying my snuffly rag tag forces and pushing through! I've even cancelled going to my Monday morning Moms Coffee to make sure I get this right. Nyah Nyah...I must confess I feel a bit like that scene in Braveheart where they moon the enemy troops :)
I may not get my full sweet hour of prayer, but I recently read in another blog
Raising Homemakers : Quiet Times for Desperate Mothers a fabulous idea based on this verse:
Exodus 16:4,18 says, “I will rain bread from heaven for you; the people shall go out and gather a day’s portion every day…He who gathered much had no excess and he who gathered little had no lack.”
Basically God provided sustenance for His people as they wandered the desert, but He provided EXACTLY what they needed for that PRESENT day, regardless of whether they "stocked up" or only gathered the smallest bit, it was enough for the whole day!
If God would provide for the physical needs of His people, why on earth would we thinkg Him not capable of providing our spiritual sustenance?! He knows our life. He sees as we come under fire everytime we try to take one step closer to Him. Do you think he would leave us alone, stranded, being cut down by enemy fire, unable to get to the safety of His arms?
He is NOT an aloof God, sitting watching us from afar wringing His hands, saying, "Oh IF only they had the strength to get to Me, sigh, I guess they'll never make it...." NO!! What a twisted thought process we have to think that, another attack from the enemy. God is in the trenches with us, just waiting for us to finally accept His help, not waiting for us to fight off the enemy alone.
So don't forgo your time with God because the kids wake up early, or the dishwasher breaks and floods the kitchen, or whatever other attacks the Enemy may attempt to turn you away from your goal, drawing closer to God. Take the five minutes you can carve out, even if you only get to read one verse, carry it in your mind all day, meditate on it and God will provided all of the sustenance you need for this day.
Ok, I'm off to carve out my five minutes...Father, I'm asking You to provide for me, just as You did Your people in the desert. I am in the desert right now spiritually and only You can lead me out, into the promised land flowing with milk and honey. Give me wisdom, please, to see where You lead me and strength to follow You. Amen.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Baby Sadie
What an experience! I "thought" I knew what I was getting into. We've already done the whole "labor & delivery" thing with our first child and I felt SO confident that I had learned from the "mistakes" with that one and this birth would be so much better/easier/expected. Ha! One "mistake" I didn't learn from the first time was to not have expectations!
Background on Sophia's Birth (scroll down to skip to Sadie):
Our first child came 2 1/2 weeks early, my water breaking at home. It was a beautiful Sunday morning in November. We'd taken the birthing and labor & support classes and I was confident we would have a wonderful birthing experience. The contractions were so managable that I made Wade stop at the grocery store on the way to the hospital to pick up snacks for our Sunday School Class (not expecting our first child to be early we had signed up to bring snacks to class that Sunday). Just to be sure we got the right thing I even went into the store and did the shopping with Wade, then we headed over to the church to drop the snacks off - this time Wade wouldn't hear of me getting out of the car to go with him to drop the snacks off. The contractions were getting longer and closer together and I guess he didn't want me to have the baby in the church ;) We made it into the hospital, contractions still suprisingly managable and I am thinking this is going to be easier than I thought. Then the nurse "checks" me... Wade later described it saying she decided to check my molars by taking the long route :p Everything we had been expecting went out the window at that point, the pain went from slightly uncomfortable to mind numbingly painful and despite all of our planning, classes and carefully packed "labor" bag I had an epidural. From the time my water broke to the time I delvered Sophia I was in labor for 13 hours, of those 13 hours, 4 were spent waiting for family to arrive and 2 were spent pushing (because I couldn't feel anything with the epidural). While disappointing, it was a blessing because when Sophia was born her cord was wrapped around her neck and she was a blue-grey shade, which concerned the midwife enough to pull Sophia out both shoulders at once (like a linebacker - according to Wade). It took them close to 5 minutes to get Sophia to cry/breath. The epidural saved me from an even greater amount of pain in the end, as I needed about 12-15 stitches, but still we thought we learned enough from the experience to be able to have our second child medication free.
Sadie's Birth:
At my 36 week Dr apt. they do a "check" and discover that I am 80% effaced and 2 cm dilated. Given the fact that Sophia was 2 1/2 weeks early, the midwife tells me that while it is not uncommon to walk around like that for weeks, I should be prepared to "go any day now." Every week at my check ups I am further dilated, but no contractions...every week the midwife would say, "be prepared to go any day now"... finally at my 39 week Dr apt. the midwife checks me and discovers I am 6 cm dilated with still no contractions. She tells me I can go into the hospital today or tomorrow to have them break my water, but she doesn't want me walking around any longer than that or I might not make it into the hospital. Not wanting to have this child's birth make the 10 o'clock news because we had to stop on the side of the road to have the baby, we opt to go in on the 24th.
Thankfully this gave us enough time to call my parents, who were here in about 11 hours, get some last minute things finished & ready for baby and make sure we had everything we needed to go to the hospital. Being the planner that I am, knowing you are going to have the baby on a particular day was a pretty nifty deal. My mom was even able to go with us to the hospital and be in the delivery room the whole time.
So we wake up on Thursday, June 24, very excited to be going in to have our second child. We arrive at the hospital armed with the knowledge that we gleaned from Sophia's birth - I don't have to be checked by the nurses, I can wait and be checked by the midwife, - I don't have to stay attached to the bed, I can get up and walk, move, use all of the handy dandy labor techniques I never got to use with Sophia's birth AND with the knowledge that this delivery is going to go by much faster.
We get settled, the midwife arrives, she breaks my water at 9 am almost on the dot, then says, "now we'll just see how you progess." She heads out the door to do something and I have my first contraction. "Woohoo!!" I yell, excited to finally be on the way to having this baby. The nurses look at each other knowlingly, unfortunately I dismissed the exchange, little did I know...
The contractions wasted no time in coming, and I wasted no time in getting out of bed and putting to use my two classes of labor & support techniques. I used the birthing ball, I walked, I was massaged by my fabulous husband, I breathed, I counted, I visualized, I prayed and 30 minutes later the contractions were stronger, longer and harder and I was starting to get vocal.
At first it was just, "Ow," then the "ow's" grew into "This SUCKS!" mixed with "Oh Father! help, please help me do this!" and another 15 minutes later I was debating with myself about why I wanted to do this medication free. But still I kept at it...for another 15 minutes... At that point the pain was so bad I couldn't even talk, all I could do was utter a weird gutteral half scream half growl thing. Then with the next contraction, Wade told me to breathe and I snapped. "I don't want to freekin' breathe!" I hissed at him. Apparently when in extreme pain I get grouchy :p
It got to the point where I was so worn out from the lack of sleep over the past week (finishing an addition while expecting a baby at any moment is NOT recommended! And no we did not plan it that way, the addition was *supposed* to be finished over a month before the baby's due date) and from the pain that Wade grew concerned as he tried to engage me in between contractions and I was barely able to respond - I simply did not have the energy and by that point I was seeing three of him and it was too confusing to try to figure out which husband to respond to!
So, knowing it would take about 30 minutes to get the epidural going, we decided to get the IV needed for it started, just in case, and hoping that the IV fluids will help "revive" me enough to push through (<- ha! push, get it?! I know, I'm corny!). So the nurse leaves to get the things for the IV. 30 minutes later we get the IV going, by this point I can't even respond to Wade in between contractions, all I remember thinking was "I just need to sleep, quit talking to me and let me sleep," as if a person can sleep in the 30 second interim between contractions...
Apparently the nurse decided to start the IV in the middle of a contraction and had to deal with a moving target. The good news, when you're having a contraction, you don't notice the pain of being poked repeatedly in the arm with a needle...
The IV finally got started and I came too enough to have the following conversation with Wade:
Wade: Do you want to do the epidural? We could always try some of the other pain relief options...
Me: No, that's not good for the baby...
Wade - converses with nurse & gets confirmation that the epidural is really the only thing (other than med free birth) that doesn't have an effect on the baby
Wade: Do you want to do the epidural? You can do this you know...
Me: Yah and I could also jam a red hot poker into my eyeball...(contraction comes, pain is even worse to the point that I hit the bed rail repeatedly, realizing I'm SO not in control at this point and not wanting to add the cost of a new hospital bed to our bill...) Ok, I want to do the epidural. I guess I'd rather have them jam a needle into my back than jam a red hot poker in my eye (made sense to me at the time :p).
We have to wait another 30 min. to get the epidural. It is now 2 hours into labor, the Dr comes in to do the epidural, the nurse checks me again and tells me I am almost 10cm, she neglects to tell me I can start pushing any minute, Wade is simply focused on getting me to hold still long enough for them to get the epidural going so I don't end up paralyzed because I moved at the wrong time, the nurse pushes a pillow into my arms and says, "Here, hug the pillow." A contraction starts again and I throw the pillow hissing (apparently I also do alot of hissing when in extreme pain), "I don't want to hug the freekin' pillow!" I found out later she wanted me to hug it so that I would curve my back the right way for the epidural, thankfully I was able to apologize to her before they moved me to my overnight room.
Dr. decides to to a CSE (combined spinal block and epidural) The spinal block kicks in immediately and I transform back from Mr. Hyde, to Dr. Jekyll. The epidural Dr leaves, in comes the midwife, checks me and says, "Ok, I see the head, time to push!" I almost turned back into Mr. Hyde. Had I known that I would have sucked it up!! Argh! Oh well, the lack of feeling in my uterus is an amazing relief, so I go ahead start to push.
Because I opted for the epidural, they now have me strapped into the bed, so to speak, with a monitor for the contractions and a monitor on for the baby's heart rate. With the first push, the nurse says something about the baby's heart rate. The midwife pulls out a hand suction do-hickey and attaches it to the head, with the next push she starts to pull, her manner changing from sunny to serious as she tells me to push as long and hard as I can, the suction thingy pops off. This goes on for a while with the hand vacuum continuing to pop off before the midwife can make much progress. The nurse says something again, and suddenly the room goes from two nurses and the midwife, to literally 12 people, including the Dr on call and some weird machine thing (I later find out it is a high powered vacuum to help pull the baby out). The baby's heart rate had dropped and wasn't going back up, so the midwife wisely called for backup.
The Dr. had me change positions to push and told me to not push on every other contraction, that helped bring the baby's heart rate back up a bit, but still the urgency to get the baby out was clear. Of course I'm pretty much oblivious to all of this as I am just trying to figure out how to push when I can't feel anything. As soon as I get "pushing" the right way so that everyone in the room would get more excited and encouraging, I would run out of air and have to take a breath and then start all over.
All in all, I pushed for about 30 minutes. They didn't end up using the Baby-Vac 2000, which is a good thing. Wade said that the baby's head looked like a lego block from just the hand vacuum the midwife was using.
Baby Sadie (Mersades Marie Mascia) was born at 11:32am on June 24, 2010. She weighed 7lbs 14oz and was 20in long.
In the end the epidural turned out to be a blessing in more ways than one. First, if I had never had the epidural I would not have been strapped up to the baby heart rate monitor and they would not have known the baby's heart rate dropped and our second child could very well have been born dead. And finally, the mid-wife, who is very pro-med free birthing, told me she was glad I ended up getting an epidural, as all of the vacuuming to try to pull the baby out would have been excruciatingly painful, much more so than a regular delivery (according to her) and because of the focus on just getting the baby out, I tore once again, which would have also been incredibly painful to feel.
So while it was not the birth experience I expected, it resulted in a LIVE, beautiful, healthy baby and a damage free medical bill ;) If we do decide to have another baby, I will most definitely NOT have any expectations for the birth and I will be sure to have them start that IV right away. :) I may just make Wade a shirt to wear during labor & delivery that says, "Red Hot Poker in the Eye or Needle in the Spine"
Background on Sophia's Birth (scroll down to skip to Sadie):
Our first child came 2 1/2 weeks early, my water breaking at home. It was a beautiful Sunday morning in November. We'd taken the birthing and labor & support classes and I was confident we would have a wonderful birthing experience. The contractions were so managable that I made Wade stop at the grocery store on the way to the hospital to pick up snacks for our Sunday School Class (not expecting our first child to be early we had signed up to bring snacks to class that Sunday). Just to be sure we got the right thing I even went into the store and did the shopping with Wade, then we headed over to the church to drop the snacks off - this time Wade wouldn't hear of me getting out of the car to go with him to drop the snacks off. The contractions were getting longer and closer together and I guess he didn't want me to have the baby in the church ;) We made it into the hospital, contractions still suprisingly managable and I am thinking this is going to be easier than I thought. Then the nurse "checks" me... Wade later described it saying she decided to check my molars by taking the long route :p Everything we had been expecting went out the window at that point, the pain went from slightly uncomfortable to mind numbingly painful and despite all of our planning, classes and carefully packed "labor" bag I had an epidural. From the time my water broke to the time I delvered Sophia I was in labor for 13 hours, of those 13 hours, 4 were spent waiting for family to arrive and 2 were spent pushing (because I couldn't feel anything with the epidural). While disappointing, it was a blessing because when Sophia was born her cord was wrapped around her neck and she was a blue-grey shade, which concerned the midwife enough to pull Sophia out both shoulders at once (like a linebacker - according to Wade). It took them close to 5 minutes to get Sophia to cry/breath. The epidural saved me from an even greater amount of pain in the end, as I needed about 12-15 stitches, but still we thought we learned enough from the experience to be able to have our second child medication free.
Sadie's Birth:
At my 36 week Dr apt. they do a "check" and discover that I am 80% effaced and 2 cm dilated. Given the fact that Sophia was 2 1/2 weeks early, the midwife tells me that while it is not uncommon to walk around like that for weeks, I should be prepared to "go any day now." Every week at my check ups I am further dilated, but no contractions...every week the midwife would say, "be prepared to go any day now"... finally at my 39 week Dr apt. the midwife checks me and discovers I am 6 cm dilated with still no contractions. She tells me I can go into the hospital today or tomorrow to have them break my water, but she doesn't want me walking around any longer than that or I might not make it into the hospital. Not wanting to have this child's birth make the 10 o'clock news because we had to stop on the side of the road to have the baby, we opt to go in on the 24th.
Thankfully this gave us enough time to call my parents, who were here in about 11 hours, get some last minute things finished & ready for baby and make sure we had everything we needed to go to the hospital. Being the planner that I am, knowing you are going to have the baby on a particular day was a pretty nifty deal. My mom was even able to go with us to the hospital and be in the delivery room the whole time.
So we wake up on Thursday, June 24, very excited to be going in to have our second child. We arrive at the hospital armed with the knowledge that we gleaned from Sophia's birth - I don't have to be checked by the nurses, I can wait and be checked by the midwife, - I don't have to stay attached to the bed, I can get up and walk, move, use all of the handy dandy labor techniques I never got to use with Sophia's birth AND with the knowledge that this delivery is going to go by much faster.
We get settled, the midwife arrives, she breaks my water at 9 am almost on the dot, then says, "now we'll just see how you progess." She heads out the door to do something and I have my first contraction. "Woohoo!!" I yell, excited to finally be on the way to having this baby. The nurses look at each other knowlingly, unfortunately I dismissed the exchange, little did I know...
The contractions wasted no time in coming, and I wasted no time in getting out of bed and putting to use my two classes of labor & support techniques. I used the birthing ball, I walked, I was massaged by my fabulous husband, I breathed, I counted, I visualized, I prayed and 30 minutes later the contractions were stronger, longer and harder and I was starting to get vocal.
At first it was just, "Ow," then the "ow's" grew into "This SUCKS!" mixed with "Oh Father! help, please help me do this!" and another 15 minutes later I was debating with myself about why I wanted to do this medication free. But still I kept at it...for another 15 minutes... At that point the pain was so bad I couldn't even talk, all I could do was utter a weird gutteral half scream half growl thing. Then with the next contraction, Wade told me to breathe and I snapped. "I don't want to freekin' breathe!" I hissed at him. Apparently when in extreme pain I get grouchy :p
It got to the point where I was so worn out from the lack of sleep over the past week (finishing an addition while expecting a baby at any moment is NOT recommended! And no we did not plan it that way, the addition was *supposed* to be finished over a month before the baby's due date) and from the pain that Wade grew concerned as he tried to engage me in between contractions and I was barely able to respond - I simply did not have the energy and by that point I was seeing three of him and it was too confusing to try to figure out which husband to respond to!
So, knowing it would take about 30 minutes to get the epidural going, we decided to get the IV needed for it started, just in case, and hoping that the IV fluids will help "revive" me enough to push through (<- ha! push, get it?! I know, I'm corny!). So the nurse leaves to get the things for the IV. 30 minutes later we get the IV going, by this point I can't even respond to Wade in between contractions, all I remember thinking was "I just need to sleep, quit talking to me and let me sleep," as if a person can sleep in the 30 second interim between contractions...
Apparently the nurse decided to start the IV in the middle of a contraction and had to deal with a moving target. The good news, when you're having a contraction, you don't notice the pain of being poked repeatedly in the arm with a needle...
The IV finally got started and I came too enough to have the following conversation with Wade:
Wade: Do you want to do the epidural? We could always try some of the other pain relief options...
Me: No, that's not good for the baby...
Wade - converses with nurse & gets confirmation that the epidural is really the only thing (other than med free birth) that doesn't have an effect on the baby
Wade: Do you want to do the epidural? You can do this you know...
Me: Yah and I could also jam a red hot poker into my eyeball...(contraction comes, pain is even worse to the point that I hit the bed rail repeatedly, realizing I'm SO not in control at this point and not wanting to add the cost of a new hospital bed to our bill...) Ok, I want to do the epidural. I guess I'd rather have them jam a needle into my back than jam a red hot poker in my eye (made sense to me at the time :p).
We have to wait another 30 min. to get the epidural. It is now 2 hours into labor, the Dr comes in to do the epidural, the nurse checks me again and tells me I am almost 10cm, she neglects to tell me I can start pushing any minute, Wade is simply focused on getting me to hold still long enough for them to get the epidural going so I don't end up paralyzed because I moved at the wrong time, the nurse pushes a pillow into my arms and says, "Here, hug the pillow." A contraction starts again and I throw the pillow hissing (apparently I also do alot of hissing when in extreme pain), "I don't want to hug the freekin' pillow!" I found out later she wanted me to hug it so that I would curve my back the right way for the epidural, thankfully I was able to apologize to her before they moved me to my overnight room.
Dr. decides to to a CSE (combined spinal block and epidural) The spinal block kicks in immediately and I transform back from Mr. Hyde, to Dr. Jekyll. The epidural Dr leaves, in comes the midwife, checks me and says, "Ok, I see the head, time to push!" I almost turned back into Mr. Hyde. Had I known that I would have sucked it up!! Argh! Oh well, the lack of feeling in my uterus is an amazing relief, so I go ahead start to push.
Because I opted for the epidural, they now have me strapped into the bed, so to speak, with a monitor for the contractions and a monitor on for the baby's heart rate. With the first push, the nurse says something about the baby's heart rate. The midwife pulls out a hand suction do-hickey and attaches it to the head, with the next push she starts to pull, her manner changing from sunny to serious as she tells me to push as long and hard as I can, the suction thingy pops off. This goes on for a while with the hand vacuum continuing to pop off before the midwife can make much progress. The nurse says something again, and suddenly the room goes from two nurses and the midwife, to literally 12 people, including the Dr on call and some weird machine thing (I later find out it is a high powered vacuum to help pull the baby out). The baby's heart rate had dropped and wasn't going back up, so the midwife wisely called for backup.
The Dr. had me change positions to push and told me to not push on every other contraction, that helped bring the baby's heart rate back up a bit, but still the urgency to get the baby out was clear. Of course I'm pretty much oblivious to all of this as I am just trying to figure out how to push when I can't feel anything. As soon as I get "pushing" the right way so that everyone in the room would get more excited and encouraging, I would run out of air and have to take a breath and then start all over.
All in all, I pushed for about 30 minutes. They didn't end up using the Baby-Vac 2000, which is a good thing. Wade said that the baby's head looked like a lego block from just the hand vacuum the midwife was using.
Baby Sadie (Mersades Marie Mascia) was born at 11:32am on June 24, 2010. She weighed 7lbs 14oz and was 20in long.
In the end the epidural turned out to be a blessing in more ways than one. First, if I had never had the epidural I would not have been strapped up to the baby heart rate monitor and they would not have known the baby's heart rate dropped and our second child could very well have been born dead. And finally, the mid-wife, who is very pro-med free birthing, told me she was glad I ended up getting an epidural, as all of the vacuuming to try to pull the baby out would have been excruciatingly painful, much more so than a regular delivery (according to her) and because of the focus on just getting the baby out, I tore once again, which would have also been incredibly painful to feel.
So while it was not the birth experience I expected, it resulted in a LIVE, beautiful, healthy baby and a damage free medical bill ;) If we do decide to have another baby, I will most definitely NOT have any expectations for the birth and I will be sure to have them start that IV right away. :) I may just make Wade a shirt to wear during labor & delivery that says, "Red Hot Poker in the Eye or Needle in the Spine"
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Tuxedo Theology
The other day I heard an ad on the radio for a tuxedo store. It was completely narrated by one man, with a deep almost-gravelly-but-not-quite voice that held your attention. It opened with the narrator describing this scene (keep in mind that I am paraphrasing here):
"On the most special day of her life, the doors will open and she will walk down that aisle, all eyes will be on her. BUT, her eyes will only be on you..."
...and then it goes on to describe the need for you, the future groom, to look your best for her and how you can do that without spending a fortune if you visit their store, etc.
Of course I tuned out about then and never did catch the name of the tuxedo store. I was too busy remembering my own walk down the aisle, the swish of my dress, worrying about dropping the bouquet (no one ever told me it would be so darn heavy!), trying to make sure my niece didn't step on my dress and trip me (my 4 year old niece and 2 year old nephew escorted my down the aisle with my father, it was too precious!!) all while keeping my eyes locked on my groom.
The narrator had that part dead to rights. All that planning and angst and stress, and the hours of deciding, un-deciding, re-deciding and changing your mind just to make that day perfect, and the only thing that the bride ends up seeing, that whole day, is her groom. Sigh, it makes me want to do it all over again.
Of course in the middle of of my pleasant reminiscing, I am struck with an epiphany. The clouds in the sky part, a ray of sunlight strikes the steering wheel and somewhere behind my left shoulder a snippet of the Hallelujah Chorus plays:
We are the bride and Christ is the groom.
It is like the light bulb has been screwed in, but no power was flowing and someone finally flips the switch. I am almost ashamed to admit that it took a tuxedo store radio commercial to get that one through my thick skull. Yes, I get the whole the-church-is-married-to-Christ-protection-he-is-the-head-of-us bit. What I just realized is that all eyes, the world's eyes, are on us, the church, as Christ's bride, and like the narrator said, our eyes are supposed to be focused on our groom, Christ, not the world.
Can you imagine walking down the aisle and focusing on the people sitting in the pews? You would be so caught up in who actually made it and who came that didn't RSVP and oh look Aunt Kay is wearing that ridiculous "Sunday" hat of hers, you'd never make it to the alter, at least not before your bouquet tipped you over or you tripped because you weren't paying attention to the ridiculously slick aisle runner.
There is a reason a bride's eyes are only on the groom and not the decorations or the people. As she is walking down that long aisle she is completely focused on one goal, her future. It all lies neatly tuxedo-ed in the man waiting for her at the end. Her heart and her mind are completely in sync, overflowing with love, joy, anticipation, excitement, hope and she is looking at her groom, searching his face to see her future reflected there.
As the bride of Christ, are your eyes still focused on him? Are you still filled with that sweet anticipation and fiery excitement? Does hope for your future with him overflow in your mind and heart? Do you live every day as if you were walking down that aisle to meet your beloved?
"On the most special day of her life, the doors will open and she will walk down that aisle, all eyes will be on her. BUT, her eyes will only be on you..."
...and then it goes on to describe the need for you, the future groom, to look your best for her and how you can do that without spending a fortune if you visit their store, etc.
Of course I tuned out about then and never did catch the name of the tuxedo store. I was too busy remembering my own walk down the aisle, the swish of my dress, worrying about dropping the bouquet (no one ever told me it would be so darn heavy!), trying to make sure my niece didn't step on my dress and trip me (my 4 year old niece and 2 year old nephew escorted my down the aisle with my father, it was too precious!!) all while keeping my eyes locked on my groom.
The narrator had that part dead to rights. All that planning and angst and stress, and the hours of deciding, un-deciding, re-deciding and changing your mind just to make that day perfect, and the only thing that the bride ends up seeing, that whole day, is her groom. Sigh, it makes me want to do it all over again.
Of course in the middle of of my pleasant reminiscing, I am struck with an epiphany. The clouds in the sky part, a ray of sunlight strikes the steering wheel and somewhere behind my left shoulder a snippet of the Hallelujah Chorus plays:
We are the bride and Christ is the groom.
It is like the light bulb has been screwed in, but no power was flowing and someone finally flips the switch. I am almost ashamed to admit that it took a tuxedo store radio commercial to get that one through my thick skull. Yes, I get the whole the-church-is-married-to-Christ-protection-he-is-the-head-of-us bit. What I just realized is that all eyes, the world's eyes, are on us, the church, as Christ's bride, and like the narrator said, our eyes are supposed to be focused on our groom, Christ, not the world.
Can you imagine walking down the aisle and focusing on the people sitting in the pews? You would be so caught up in who actually made it and who came that didn't RSVP and oh look Aunt Kay is wearing that ridiculous "Sunday" hat of hers, you'd never make it to the alter, at least not before your bouquet tipped you over or you tripped because you weren't paying attention to the ridiculously slick aisle runner.
There is a reason a bride's eyes are only on the groom and not the decorations or the people. As she is walking down that long aisle she is completely focused on one goal, her future. It all lies neatly tuxedo-ed in the man waiting for her at the end. Her heart and her mind are completely in sync, overflowing with love, joy, anticipation, excitement, hope and she is looking at her groom, searching his face to see her future reflected there.
As the bride of Christ, are your eyes still focused on him? Are you still filled with that sweet anticipation and fiery excitement? Does hope for your future with him overflow in your mind and heart? Do you live every day as if you were walking down that aisle to meet your beloved?
Friday, May 29, 2009
God likes jewelry too...
It is amazing the lessons that are lurking for us in the most unlikely places...like my jewelry box. Who would have ever thought that God would use jewelry to teach me a lesson?
If you know me at all you know that I am NOT a "jewelry" girl. I have my wedding ring, that my wonderful husband spent way too much money on and ensured that on our 10th, 15th or even 25th wedding anniversary he would not be shelling out several more thousands of dollars for an "upgrade." That I wear constantly, I never take it off (except for when I was pregnant and my fingers were so swollen I was afraid that if I didn't take it off they would have to cut it off - my finger, not the ring, they would never be allowed to touch my ring). I have a few modest yet beautiful "real" pieces that Wade has purchased for me over the years, a few "quality" costume jewelry from my late grandmother and the rest of my jewelry consists of the baubles you see in such high class stores as Target or if you want to really get fancy, New York and Co.
Most of the time I don't wear jewelry, if I do happen to have time to think before leaving the house and remember to check my jewelry box, I usually end up wearing whatever tarnished, chipped, missing-a-rhinestone-or-two jewelry I manage to snag before rushing out the door. Usually I don't care, chances are people won't notice the "silver" has rubbed off or that missing faux crystal from my earring. If they do then they either have too much time on their hands or they are standing too close, in which case I don't care about their opinion of my jewelry.
Why don't you grab your real jewelry on your way out instead of the fake stuff you ask? Well, that is because I keep my "real" jewelry in a separate much more difficult to get to spot than in my jewelry box. On the off chance that someone breaks in and steals my jewelry box I don't want to lose what is most precious to me, what I can't replace. (there is a whole other lesson in this fact alone, but I'll get to that in another post.) So because my "real" stuff is hidden away, out of site and a bit difficult to get to, and because I don't care that much about what jewelry I wear anyway, I don't usually have the time to get my good stuff, but truthfully it is more because I don't think about it, you know the saying - out of site, out of mind.
Well the other day I was getting ready for a pretty snertzy event, I had a beautiful outfit all picked out, matching shoes, even a cute purse to complete the look. As I stood there scrutinizing myself in the mirror, I realized that what I really needed was some jewelry to finish off the look. So to my jewelry box I headed. Pawing through my tarnished relics (I HATE spending money on a newer version of something I already have, even if it is turning my neck green!) and broken bits that I have repaired over and over, I become exasperated. Do I honestly have nothing that will go with this outfit? And then I see a glint of gold at the bottom and pull out a tarnished (notice a pattern here?) yet serviceable necklace and low and behold both matching earrings (usually I can only find one of the earrings). So I flounce back into the bathroom to adorn myself with my finishing touches.
Standing once again in front of the mirror I admire my completed look, and realize that while the necklace and earrings are "serviceable" they just are not quite right. This is a snertzy event, I need to look good, not like a kid playing dress up with mommy's costume jewelry, not to mention that the outfit far out classed the jewelry and it was a bit obvious, not matter how far away you were standing from me.
Suddenly the light bulb goes off over my head. I have REAL gold jewelry that I can wear, in fact I have the perfect thing. A delicate gold chain with an equally delicate and beautiful drop pendant made out of one large translucent opal surrounded by several smaller translucent opals (kind of like a flower). I even have these gorgeous teardrop dangle earrings, gold and again translucent opals. If you have never seen a translucent opal, you have not seen true beauty. It is like a perfectly preserved drop of the most vibrant crystal clear ocean water - when you look at it you see a rainbow of fiery colors reflecting back in a sea of turquoise green, but you can see straight through it. Beautiful. Breath-taking. I can't believe I forgot I had that!
Back in front of the mirror (ok so by now you've figured out that I spend a lot time in front of the mirror, we can get into that later) and WOW! I look as good as I can possibly look - at least outfit/jewelry coordination wise. And this is when it hits me, the lesson.
Here I have this beautiful, real jewelry and I almost was content to leave it in it's hiding place and wear tarnished fake jewelry. In fact there have been many times when I have been content to wear the cheap, broken, fake jewelry instead of the expensive, beautiful, and real jewelry. And I realized that this situation is very applicable to my spiritual life.
I am constantly content to fill my spiritual life with the sustenance that the world has to offer: the fake, cheap, broken, tarnished, turning my neck green things of this world. I rarely remember that I have the "real" thing, an awesome, all-powerful, loving God waiting to offer me true sustenance, the bread of life and living water that will leave me thirsty no more. How pitiful am I?
Being content to fill your time and your mind with all of the things of this world, when you have the creator of the world waiting for you to seek Him, to deepen your relationship with Him, to draw near to Him, waiting to fill your spirit and mind with what it most desires, what it was created to desire, is just like wearing cheap tarnished costume jewelry with a beautiful ball gown when you have the most expensive dazzling real jewelry sitting in it's hiding place at home.
So does this prove that God likes jewelry? No, but He can use jewelry to remind me (and you) that He is not a God to sit in a hiding spot, while we parade around in trash. When you have the real thing, use it.
If you know me at all you know that I am NOT a "jewelry" girl. I have my wedding ring, that my wonderful husband spent way too much money on and ensured that on our 10th, 15th or even 25th wedding anniversary he would not be shelling out several more thousands of dollars for an "upgrade." That I wear constantly, I never take it off (except for when I was pregnant and my fingers were so swollen I was afraid that if I didn't take it off they would have to cut it off - my finger, not the ring, they would never be allowed to touch my ring). I have a few modest yet beautiful "real" pieces that Wade has purchased for me over the years, a few "quality" costume jewelry from my late grandmother and the rest of my jewelry consists of the baubles you see in such high class stores as Target or if you want to really get fancy, New York and Co.
Most of the time I don't wear jewelry, if I do happen to have time to think before leaving the house and remember to check my jewelry box, I usually end up wearing whatever tarnished, chipped, missing-a-rhinestone-or-two jewelry I manage to snag before rushing out the door. Usually I don't care, chances are people won't notice the "silver" has rubbed off or that missing faux crystal from my earring. If they do then they either have too much time on their hands or they are standing too close, in which case I don't care about their opinion of my jewelry.
Why don't you grab your real jewelry on your way out instead of the fake stuff you ask? Well, that is because I keep my "real" jewelry in a separate much more difficult to get to spot than in my jewelry box. On the off chance that someone breaks in and steals my jewelry box I don't want to lose what is most precious to me, what I can't replace. (there is a whole other lesson in this fact alone, but I'll get to that in another post.) So because my "real" stuff is hidden away, out of site and a bit difficult to get to, and because I don't care that much about what jewelry I wear anyway, I don't usually have the time to get my good stuff, but truthfully it is more because I don't think about it, you know the saying - out of site, out of mind.
Well the other day I was getting ready for a pretty snertzy event, I had a beautiful outfit all picked out, matching shoes, even a cute purse to complete the look. As I stood there scrutinizing myself in the mirror, I realized that what I really needed was some jewelry to finish off the look. So to my jewelry box I headed. Pawing through my tarnished relics (I HATE spending money on a newer version of something I already have, even if it is turning my neck green!) and broken bits that I have repaired over and over, I become exasperated. Do I honestly have nothing that will go with this outfit? And then I see a glint of gold at the bottom and pull out a tarnished (notice a pattern here?) yet serviceable necklace and low and behold both matching earrings (usually I can only find one of the earrings). So I flounce back into the bathroom to adorn myself with my finishing touches.
Standing once again in front of the mirror I admire my completed look, and realize that while the necklace and earrings are "serviceable" they just are not quite right. This is a snertzy event, I need to look good, not like a kid playing dress up with mommy's costume jewelry, not to mention that the outfit far out classed the jewelry and it was a bit obvious, not matter how far away you were standing from me.
Suddenly the light bulb goes off over my head. I have REAL gold jewelry that I can wear, in fact I have the perfect thing. A delicate gold chain with an equally delicate and beautiful drop pendant made out of one large translucent opal surrounded by several smaller translucent opals (kind of like a flower). I even have these gorgeous teardrop dangle earrings, gold and again translucent opals. If you have never seen a translucent opal, you have not seen true beauty. It is like a perfectly preserved drop of the most vibrant crystal clear ocean water - when you look at it you see a rainbow of fiery colors reflecting back in a sea of turquoise green, but you can see straight through it. Beautiful. Breath-taking. I can't believe I forgot I had that!
Back in front of the mirror (ok so by now you've figured out that I spend a lot time in front of the mirror, we can get into that later) and WOW! I look as good as I can possibly look - at least outfit/jewelry coordination wise. And this is when it hits me, the lesson.
Here I have this beautiful, real jewelry and I almost was content to leave it in it's hiding place and wear tarnished fake jewelry. In fact there have been many times when I have been content to wear the cheap, broken, fake jewelry instead of the expensive, beautiful, and real jewelry. And I realized that this situation is very applicable to my spiritual life.
I am constantly content to fill my spiritual life with the sustenance that the world has to offer: the fake, cheap, broken, tarnished, turning my neck green things of this world. I rarely remember that I have the "real" thing, an awesome, all-powerful, loving God waiting to offer me true sustenance, the bread of life and living water that will leave me thirsty no more. How pitiful am I?
Being content to fill your time and your mind with all of the things of this world, when you have the creator of the world waiting for you to seek Him, to deepen your relationship with Him, to draw near to Him, waiting to fill your spirit and mind with what it most desires, what it was created to desire, is just like wearing cheap tarnished costume jewelry with a beautiful ball gown when you have the most expensive dazzling real jewelry sitting in it's hiding place at home.
So does this prove that God likes jewelry? No, but He can use jewelry to remind me (and you) that He is not a God to sit in a hiding spot, while we parade around in trash. When you have the real thing, use it.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
God's Ministry
Wow, what an amazing night I have just had. (eyebrows wiggling - no not that kind of a night, honestly, who starts off a blog titled "God's Ministry" with THAT?!)
I have just returned from a prayer vigil, not just any prayer vigil mind you, but one that I helped organize. You see Focus on the Family, FamilyLife and ShowHope have all partnered together to launch an annual National Foster Care Prayer Vigil. As a lay leader for a Foster Care focused ministry, of course this was something I would endeavor to involve my ministry and church in...oops I did it again (no, not the Britney Spears song) I slipped up, I called it "my ministry." What's wrong with that you might ask? You are leading it, you are investing your time, energy efforts and sacrificing time with your family, time cleaning your kitchen, time vacuuming your floors and time cooking delicious gormet meals for your husband for this ministry, why not call it yours?
Let me tell you why - because in all actuality it isn't "my" ministry, it is (as you may have guessed from the title of this blog) God's ministry. It is not through any credit of mine - or fault for that matter - that this ministry began. God did not even birth this ministry in my small, fragile, unfortunately wicked little brain. Someone else started it, I just stepped in. As is the case with most people in this world, I selfishly assumed when I began working in this ministry that it was "mine" - I had all of these fabulous ideas to help foster children and their families. I would inspire in our church a movement that would sweep through the city like wildfire - Charlotte would have a great awakening and it would spread from state to state, until there were literally no children left in the foster care system nationwide. In my head I even saw myself speaking fabulous words of inspiration and conviction, moving people to tears over the plight of these children, mobilizing people to do something, step outside of their safe little boxes and into God's amazing plan for their lives, loving these children.
Well, last night, it was made abundantly clear that I am not the speaker I envisioned myself to be. You see I briefly spoke at the beginning of the prayer vigil, letting people know what the agenda was and then giving them a few things to consider as they prayed for these children. Halfway through my "schpeal" a lady in the second row (mind you I was standing at the first row while I was speaking) asked if I could speak up, she couldn't hear me. God obviously did not design me to be the great orator I am in my head :p
In fact in the almost two years I have been involved in this ministry, none of my "brilliant" ideas have been brought to fruition. The only ideas that have worked are the ones that I have huffingly turned over to God, with the caveat that, "I can't do anything with it, if you want this to work God, then you do it!" I know now that God has been patiently (most likely with a little eye rolling too) waiting for me to say those words. My attitude of course could use some serious adjustment, but He takes His ministry back from me anyway and proceeds to work His will in it.
What does all of this have to do with the prayer vigil I mentioned in the begining? Well this is the first idea that I have wholeheartedly allowed God to "do with it what He will" for this ministry and it was a phenomenal and humbling experience for me. It is so very hard to not try to take control of things and accomplish them with your sheer will alone. Daily I found myself turning this prayer vigil back over to God.
The most humbling experience was when I realized that one of our head pastors was going to attend the prayer vigil, despite some schedule conflicts he had with it. I became increasingly anxious about who would show up. The overall reaction I was getting was, "Well that's a great idea, but I can just stay at home and pray..." (What?! Don't you people know that in all likelyhood you might spend a whole 5 minutes praying for this before the kids start fighting with each other or your spouse decides that you need to discuss the carpool schedule for the next week - NOW- or the phone starts ringing or you realize you forgot to update your blog and it'll only take a minute, etc...?) If everyone has this attitude then no one will show up for the prayer vigil and how will that look to the pastor, what will he think about me as a leader for this ministry, we'll never get approval to move forward with any of our ministry goals... And then in the middle of MY stress over MY ministry and how I will look, God very quietly, yet very insistently reminded me, that it is not about ME.
What was the purpose of this prayer vigil? To look good or to be the intercessors for these children and petition God on their behalf. There wasn't the slow splurting (yes it is a word, I just made it up) sound of a balloon deflating as I realized this, there was an audible POP as my balloon burst into a million pieces. God then graciously picked up my balloon, patched it and blew His lifegiving breath into it. It wasn't the big shiny bright attention getting balloon, I had started out with, but it was enough, it was the balloon God wanted me to have (I know, I know, it's cheesy, but it actually applies, so there :p). I realized then that if it were only myself and the pastor at this prayer vigil, God would still use our prayers. And it wouldn't matter what the pastor thought, if God wanted this ministry - HIS ministry - to accomplish its goals, then He would provide the means and the way and the motivation, not me, not any silly speech I might envision myself giving or any effort I might put forth.
I had wanted this prayer vigil to be a glorious display of people coming together for these kids, God just wanted it to be an honest display of people humbling themselves before Him, reaching out to Him to deepen their relationship with Him and to put themselves and their worries aside, to be selfless for one hour as they put the needs of these children in front of their own need for comfort and routine.
We had 20 people attend the prayer vigil, including myself and the pastor. The exact number that God wanted for His ministry. I don't know what the pastor thought, (remember, he had a scheduling conflict and he had to leave immediately after) but I do know that I am not worried about it. After all, it's not my ministry :)
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
A Whole New World
I have come to discover what all of the fuss is about. Blog, Blog, Blog seems to pop up all around me, like an incessant buzzing in my ear. I have tried to pretend that I don't hear it, that I am unmovable from my nice happy world of simplistic technology, staunchly set in my ways with "I don't need to know about BLOGGING" held out in front of me, like a shield protecting me from this new and odd thing threatening to suck me in and trap me in front of the computer constantly writing, editing, posting, tracking, until all that I am is a string of poorly conceived posts that stretch on and on. I have finally given in to the urge, the curiosity, the desire to know more: What is the new world that my friends speak of, is it so different, so addictive, should I try it, am I strong enough to resist its temptation lest housework pile up around me, dirty dishes and clothes threatening to topple over and bury us alive? Will my beloved daughter know me only as an internet feed titled Jenna's Jots, will her only memories of me be a dark silhouette in front of a glaring white screen, my voice replaced with the sound of clicking keys?
Wow, you're still reading, that's impressive, you must really think I have something astonishingly insightful to say :)
Seriously I can see myself getting stuck in front of the computer, dishes dirty, dinner burning, ignoring the glares from my husband in order to add another post to my blog. Hopefully that won't happen, hopefully I can juggle the housework and child and blogging and not incure the wrath of the housecleaning gods, while at the same time appeasing the computer gods, walking a fine line down the middle of two competing worlds. We'll just have to see.
Wow, you're still reading, that's impressive, you must really think I have something astonishingly insightful to say :)
Seriously I can see myself getting stuck in front of the computer, dishes dirty, dinner burning, ignoring the glares from my husband in order to add another post to my blog. Hopefully that won't happen, hopefully I can juggle the housework and child and blogging and not incure the wrath of the housecleaning gods, while at the same time appeasing the computer gods, walking a fine line down the middle of two competing worlds. We'll just have to see.
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