Battle Wounds

"Stretch marks and incision scars are not reminders of the body we lost, but the precious lives we gained through a journey that brought us to the brink of death and back again. These "daily reminders" are beautiful and we should look at them with pride, not shame." (is it okay to quote myself?)

Lately, as I've been working out in an attempt to gain some semblance of my pre-pregnancy form, the grief I give myself about my post-pregnancy bod has made a ferocious comeback. I go through these spurts- sometimes I'll sink into a mini-depression about my looks and then in a matter of minutes I'll rebound with a sense of joy as I look at my "battle wounds" (as my husband calls my stretch marks and extra flab). I feel healthier than I have in years, I actually weigh less now than when I got married (astonishing I know!), AND I have two incredibly beautiful children who I would NOT trade in for the most "picture perfect" body ANY day.

I want to be okay with myself. Well... not just okay, but you know. It helps for me to think about everything I had to go through in order to successfully get pregnant, carry to term, and deliver a healthy baby (two actually). More and more women are seeking fertility drugs and invitro fertilization as a means to have the children they desire. A lot of those women never have successful attachment to the uterine wall and look then to adoption. There is a small window of opportunity even for fertile women when the egg is "available" for fertilization. So many factors have to be "just right" in order for a successful "zygote" to form and impant itself to the uterine wall. Once the implantation occurs, the mother's body goes in to "sacrifice" mode. Between the raging hormones, vitamin deficiency, morning sickness, sciatica, weight gain (loss), high blood pressure, gestational diabetes, and other conditions that plague a pregnant woman, a baby is being formed far beyond a mother's control. Then, as sad as it is, miscarriage in the first trimester occurs in 20% of all pregnancies. That's 1 in 5 little ones who will not survive to the second trimester. Out of the remaining pregnancies, some of these children will not survive to the third trimester. And out of those, 1 out of 10 of the women will have a premature rupture and deliver a premature baby, or because of illlness, infection, or lack of proper care even more little ones will not reach the critical 37 week "term" mark. And of those who do make it to term, some of these children might not survive labor and delivery. And in rare circumstances the mother will not survive labor and delivery.

I go through all that to say, when you consider how much a mother and child have to go through in conception, pregnancy, labor, and delivery... stretch marks and incision scars have little importance. When I'm completely honest with myself, I realize I take for granted the two little lives that God graciously allowed to see the outside world in good health. I look at my stretch marks and forget all that we had to endure so that I could have my "jewels". These stretch marks and redistributed body fat are reminders of how incredibly miraculous my children are and what a gift it is to carry them in my own body. I'm amazed at the journey my physical body had to tread in order for Stephen and Phoebe to be with me. My God, the Creator of the Universe, the Savior of my soul, made it all possible and I'm absolutely in awe.

I hope this is not going to make pregnant women or women who are wanting to conceive scared of the "if's". I write this for the women who (like myself) sometimes look at their postpartum bods in disgust or sadness. I encourage all mothers out there to write (or just think about) their pregnancy+labor+delivery story (for each child if you have more than one) and reflect on the miracle of conception, pregnancy, and delivery because it IS indeed a beautiful MIRACLE!

A Comfortable Blowout

I'm just warning you ahead of time... this post deals with a lot of poop (and not figuratively either).

I woke up this morning to a sweet kiss goodbye from my husband and went back to sleep for about half an hour. When I awoke, I grabbed a cup of chai, did some picture editing, and was about to start Facebook-ing when my Phoebe woke up. "Aaaaand.... GO!" She wanted breakfast and I was about to start boiling the water for the oatmeal when I heard the "Bubs" coo-ing in his crib. Yay- double duty! Stephen is not as patient as Phoebe is for breakfast so I was somewhat surprised that he was as happy as he was. I went in and the stench hit me. *whoah* Nothing like that could be a good thing, right? But he was so happy! Coo-ing up a storm and doing a few ga-ga's. I figure, he's been in this diaper for the whole night (unless my husband changed in the middle of the night without me knowing). But he's soooo calm and... well happy. I pick him up, place him on the changing table, and open up his sleep sack. To my horror (gasp!) there's poop EVERYWHERE! I just couldn't understand how this one little person could 1) have that much poop and 2) be so happy in the midst of it. Needless to say, this amount of poop couldn't be cleaned by a few wipees. No- this mess had to have a bath X's two.

So as I strip my precious angel of his soiled sleep sack and clothing I think to myself... "Isn't this like sin?" The first time it happens, we're screaming on the inside telling ourselves how awful this is. Sin to a human is as natural as pooping, right? We're born in it and we're born to do it. Of course our little conscience tells us that it's wrong (that's the grace of God by the way). We feel uncomfortable and we feel "dirty". Sin is disgusting, though it feels good to "let it out". If we stay in it long enough, we get used to it- we can be "happy" with it. I'm not saying this to promote staying in sin to be happy because true happiness can't be found there. No- I'm saying there's a loving Father who is willing to clean you up and make you smell all nice and clean... so you can enjoy living without being constantly surrounded by the stench and yuck of sin.

The thing is, when it comes to sin, you gotta be willing to be cleaned. God's willing to clean you up and make you new, but unlike Stephen, you have to give it all to God. God's not going to fight you to get you clean. He's not going to force you to take a bath (like I did Stephen). Let's be a bit more serious here. Christ left the glory of Heaven- the beauty and the splendor of His place as Lord of the universe. He wasn't constrained by growing old or physical pain... He had everything and then some! He chose to leave all that behind, to cloth Himself in skin and bones, to hunger and thirst, and age. He was still completely God, but was completely human- He was tempted as we are, but DID NOT sin. He said, "I love you and I don't want you to be apart from me." Being holy and just and righteous meant that God in His perfection could not look at sin or be in the presence of it. The punishment for one sin, just one, is eternity in Hell... THAT's how serious sin is to God. So Christ took the punishment of not just one sin, nor just one person's sin, but EVERYONE's sin so that we could have the gift of living forever in Heaven with Him! Christ died on the cross so that this gift would be available to those who want it and He rose again to give us a hope that is beyond anything the world can give and constant communication with the Maker of the Universe (you can't really talk to someone who's dead, right?). God's not going to force it on you- that's not real love. Real love GIVES a gift, but the loved one has to receive it.

Sin is an ugly thing... it stinks and has consequences far greater than what a little bath can take care of. Sin is a serious matter because that's the only thing that sends a person to Hell. When you confess (tell God that you agree with Him that sin is wrong) and ask for His forgiveness for every sin- He is more than willing to forgive you and make you clean! In fact, the bible says that the angels in Heaven have a party when someone believes and gives their life over to God! If you want to be cleaned up, really cleaned up- the bible says that Christ is the ONLY way, He is the TRUTH, and He is the LIFE! We are made new and will have a choice not to sin! If you want that new life- you've gotta go to God and say "I realize what Christ did for me- He took my place, He paid for my sins. I want to be new in You. Help me." And if you want to know more or just ask a question, feel free to comment. :-)

And to believe- all this started with one comfortable blowout in a sleepsack from my precious little 8 month old son. Thank you Lord, for bringing my focus on Your grace and love for me through a dirty situation. P.S.- I must add that Stephen is very clean once again and is freshly diapered and playing with his older sister Phoebe happily. :-) Everyone have a blessed day!

Red Nail Polish... disaster.

I had just finished painting my 2 year old's toenails (first mistake) and then I left her unattended in the same area as the closed nail polish bottle (second mistake). A few minutes later my husband is reprimanding our oh so curious daughter for doing something naughty... and to my surprise (and embarrassment) the Cuteness painted herself and the carpet. What was I thinking?! I should have put the bottle away far from her reach (or memory), but even more importantly I should have been paying more attention to this little disaster-waiting-to-happen (Phoebe). Needless to say she was disciplined for opening a container she already knew was "no", but I also was disciplined, though not physically, for not being more responsible with my things (and child).

This little incident got me to thinking... why would she do something that she knew was wrong and she knew had negative consequences? Lots of reasons came to mind. 1) It was late at night and she was tired. 2) She was bored. 3) She was thinking more of how fun it would be to "do it herself" than the ensuing consequences. But I think the most valid reason would be... *tada*... you guessed it. She wanted my attention- whether good or bad- she wanted my attention. My sweet little princess opened a bottle of deep red nail polish; painted her body, arm, and hand, then splattered some on the carpet; all so she could get my attention. Well, boy did she EVER!

How many other little girls go out of their way for "attention"? Phoebe's only two and knows how to get attention from everyone. What about other "little" girls who desperately want to be loved, want to be held, want to be noticed, want to know that someone is there for them, that someone is rooting them on in life? From short shorts to drugs and alcohol. The "party girl" isn't really there to have fun, she's there because some deep need inside her is not being met. Sure they may say that all they want is to have a good time, but a good time doesn't equal getting plastered or puke-drunk or sleeping with a total stranger.

It starts out as nail polish doesn't it? It starts out innocent- something that can simply be cleaned or thrown in the trash. But if the heart continues to desperately reach for attention that they don't receive... what then? All women were little girls once. Each one wanted to be loved and cherished and feel special. Not every parent can fulfill every part of that need. In fact, I'll even say that no parent can completely fulfill that need. It's been said that every person (not just women) have a God-shaped hole in their heart. Even if you don't believe that- it's true. Everyone is searching for something bigger than they are, someone that can love them no matter what and will never let them down. As awesome as my husband is, as great of a dad as he is... he has and will let me and the kids down. I have and will let my husband and family down at some point. That makes us human. God is the only One that I can say without a shadow of a doubt has kept every promise, has always been there for me even when I "epic-failed" as a Christian, has always accepted me and loved me. He went to the Cross for me. He's always there. I don't have to paint myself with dark red nail polish to get His attention because the blood of His Son was enough. He saved me.

My daughter is one of my pride and joys. I can't give her what her heart needs. When she's crying out for attention, I need to respond with grace and patience and love, but I know I will inevitably fail at times. God is so much more gracious, more patient, and more loving than I ever hope to be and my prayer is that my daughter will realize that the only One who can fulfill her every desire is the One that died for her and is ready to receive her into His waiting arms.