I had a bad night last night... and I mean BAD. I went to bed around 1:30am with Braxton Hicks coming between 10-13 minutes apart and I got this feeling similar to a kid who knows Christmas is in the morning. I had a hard time falling asleep. I woke up around 2:30 or 3:00 WIDE awake. I'm talking like 3 cups of coffee wide awake and those Braxton Hicks still coming. I figured I'd forget the clock and try to go back to sleep, but it was at that point that sleep seemed impossible. I was up going to the bathroom with pressure and waddling back to the mattress about a dozen times and each time I thought to myself- I can't do this. I'm begging and pleading for labor to just get started already. I didn't care that I had only an hour or so of sleep. All I cared about was no longer being in this limbo. Give me a baby or give me sleep!!! My mind went berserk. I started thinking that if I just squeezed hard enough or if I could just do other terrible things that maybe this misery would stop. I didn't give into those thoughts and I played solitaire to keep my focus on something else. No one will know the depths of darkness that I have experienced during this pregnancy except God Himself. My midwife told me that this last surge of hormones are contributing to these worsened feelings. Prenatal depression is a scary thing. All you want in the world is to be happy and excited and to take in all the wonder and beauty of a life giving process, but you're sunk in this hormone induced sadness and anxiety. I don't like feeling like this. I'm not even a "bad" case. My depression is minor compared to some women. What upsets me the most is that my husband and children don't get the "real" Libby. They get this angry, sad, out of control, sometimes nice to be around woman who can't seem to get the hint that life doesn't revolve around her. No one except Larry can really see how much I hate being pregnant and how desperate I feel to have my child in my arms and for me to return to being the real me- the woman who can focus on the blessings in life, to take in each moment no matter how much effort and patience is required, to wake up each morning thankful, going to bed (even if for a few hours) actually feeling tired and looking forward to each new day, the mom who can just let the mess go (it's the only thing I have control over and so my focus is on that when it's not on how helpless I feel), the person who can smile with a genuine-ness and not plaster it on so that others won't worry about me. When I say that I'm ready for her to be here and how awful it is at night to think that maybe this is it and wake up and it wasn't... I truly mean it. I actually told Larry, after pitching a horrible fit one afternoon, to take me to get a c-section because I am SO done! Loving and understanding husband that he is replied, "It's only a little while longer. She'll be here healthy and happy and we'll be holding her in our arms. You can do this- it's only a little while longer."
When Larry proposed he didn't just ask me to marry him. He asked me if I trusted him "this much". I don't think he knew what he was getting into, but I guess I didn't either. We never anticipated that life would be like this. But the question remains the same, do I trust him this much- to provide, to care for, to encourage- to say what I need to hear when I need to hear them or to not say what I don't need to hear. I don't think I'd appreciate Larry as much as I do now if I had never experienced this situation. Mind you- I've probably been like this for longer than I've been pregnant- I had remnants of this after Stephen, but they became more severe after I became pregnant again. Sure he's gotten frustrated and downright angry, but he's always been here.
Let's face it, as great as Larry is- he'll never fully understand what I go through. There are some things that I've been too scared to talk to him about because honestly- those things scare the tar out of even me! I've come back to this specific thought... I don't have a high priest that cannot be touched with the feeling of my infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as I am, yet without sin. It's in Hebrews 4 verse 15. Jesus Christ- the One that died for the sins I have done, do, and will do... He understands my weaknesses. He knows what I feel and think. He knows how far I've fallen and when I reach up- He, without hesitation, grasps my drowning soul and pulls me up. He sometimes chooses not to take the storm away from around me, but He's standing next to me- making the craziness bearable. Those nights when I want to simply sink and drown in my mind, give up, and let go of life... He doesn't ignore my pleadings and cries and whining and at times my shouting and mental cursings. He doesn't walk away nor will He ever walk away when I need Him.When I came to know Him as I child I didn't anticipate how much He would bring me through and daily He asks me this question, "Do you, Libby, trust me this much?" Do I trust Him to bring me through each crazy and sleepless night? Do I trust that He indeed knows what He's doing? Do I trust Him when He says He's in control of it all? Do I trust Him when He says He loves me and do I trust Him when He says, "Just a little while longer."?
My life is not some random thing floating in a world of meaningless junk. I am made with a purpose just like this little person growing inside of me. I know that He has great things for the both of us and God's given me a stronger desire for her safety than for my well-being (thankfully!). As much as I hate being pregnant- that's how much I love her. That's how much I love all three of my children. As weak as I am in body, mind, and soul- it just shows how strong the God I serve is. He even tells Paul, "My grace is sufficient." He's the only One powerful enough to overcome the issues I have, the instability I experience in my mind (and hips). So when all of this is over and the "real work" begins, I can look back and tell the world- God be glorified! He brought me out of the miry clay, out of the deepest pit of my life, has shown me immense grace and mercy, and has given me the gift of another beautiful daughter- my little Abby. Only a little while longer... only a little while longer.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Momma VS The Tantrum
So this morning kinda went like this... Larry wakes up, I wake up, Larry leaves for work, I get up, I prepare the pot roast with carrots and potatoes that will be dinner for the next 4-5 nights, Bubba wakes up, Phoebe wakes up, I get Bubba a bottle of milk (not that he needs the bottle- the sippy cups are all dirty), I heat up leftover white rice and add milk with sugar for our breakfast, change Bubba's nappy, put him on his potty, and then after a thorough hand washing I attend to the breakfast on the stove and serve it up for Phoebe and myself (Bubba had a banana because rice is just waaaay too messy for him to deal with and I preferred not to spoon feed him this morning). This is where the trouble started...
Phoebe: Mommy, can I have milk sippy cup?
Me: Sure thing- I'll get it in a minute.
(a minute later)
I'm pouring the milk in her red sippy cup when I hear mid-pour, "Mommy, water sippy cup!"
I figured since I already had a sippy cup full of milk that I'd drink some of the milk, pour out the rest in our rice bowls (something she was also asking for), and rinse out the cup and pour my water (which was in my big cup) into her sippy cup- end of story, right? I WISH! The next thing I know Phoebe is pouting (full blown bottom lip pout) with very angry eyes, and her open hands on her face dragging down her cheeks. Needless to say I knew she knew that I knew she wasn't pleased with my actions. My daughter does not throw the loudest or most violent tantrums, but she does throw some serious attitude and has a glare that could pierce even the thickest skin. I had tried my best, hadn't I? I, as calmly as I could, explained that the water that was in the sippy cup, the big pink cup, and the faucet was all the same water. She whispered harshly, "I'm sad!" and then after a few seconds of silence she again whispered gruffly, "I"m angry!" What was I supposed to do? It was at this point I knew that she was either going to bend to the situation or she was going to get her way via her tantrum.
Now it may seem like a silly thing. Why shouldn't I just give in to her? It's a simple request and all it took was me waddling over to the kitchen, lift my legs over the baby gate (yes I still have it up), and empty out the cup, turn on the faucet, and fill up her sippy cup. But what kind of behavior would I be enforcing by giving in? A very wise mother once told me, "Pick your battles wisely." and maybe this was not the best battle to pick, but I picked it for this reason: I'm not going to give in to her tantrum (and yes- it was a tantrum. She didn't have to be throwing herself on the floor for it to be a tantrum). I commended her for being honest with her feelings (it had been a great morning and I had a little extra patience stored up) and then I asked why she was angry. I rephrased it as, "What has made you feel angry?" (she doesnt' quite get the concept of "why") She refused to tell me, but the glare continued. So I asked again what made her feel angry. No answer- just a glare. Okay then... "Phoebe please go sit down and eat your rice." Another burst of attitude with full blown bottom lip pout and continued glare. (I should mention Bubba was happily eating his banana in his chair while all this is going on- hey why not? Free drama without pressing any buttons!) My blood pressure rose slightly as I was trying oh so hard to keep myself from raising my voice (yeah I have a slight problem with that). "Phoebe, please eat your rice." Continued glare and a huffed whisper, "I'm angry." Oh great- now what? She's mad because she didn't get her water in her sippy cup from the faucet and now she refuses to eat her cereal. It's at this point I'm wondering why God gave me a daughter first. I mean seriously- boys just give it to you like it is, but girls make you read their minds and get mad when you can't!
Here we go... the battle of the wills has come to full fruition. It's Momma vs Phoebe. Momma- pregnant and hormonal in one corner! Phoebe- 3 years old (that's enough explanation) in the other! I have picked this battle and I will win- not just because I want to. NO- I NEED to win this one. So... I, as calmly as I can, ask her to take her spoon in her hand and take a bite of her rice. *no movement- just a glare* Again- I ask her to take her spoon in her hand and take a bite of her rice (a bit more frustration seeps through). *no movement- just a glare* For those who don't know me- we discipline with a spank spoon (I'd be happy to explain why we do this). I asked her to come receive her discipline (no I'm not making that up- I honestly word it just like that). It's at this point I spank her bottom, and tell her it was a bad decision to choose a spanking over eating her food. She cries for a little bit (for obvious reasons). I ask her again to eat her food and she takes one bite... and another and another until about half of her rice is gone (I have to admit it was a large serving). She stops for a minute and I ask her "Are you full? You may get down now if you're full." Immediately she climbs down and drinks the water from her sippy cup before going over to her stuffed animals and playing. (Bubba is still munching away happily on his banana then proceeds to wipe the remains on his hands into his hair- oh joy)
I thought to myself, "She just ate half her food, and drank the water from the sippy cup. So what was all the fuss about?" She looked over at me and smiled because I'm sure the very confused look on my face was slightly comical. A few minutes later we were watching "I Dream Of Jeannie (With the Light Brown Hair)" like nothing happened and I guess that's the way it should be. No anger was held on to, no prolonged rejection, no left over feelings... we were free to be happy again. I'm sure this won't be my last run in with the dreaded "Tantrum", but at least this battle was in the end a win for the both of us.
Phoebe: Mommy, can I have milk sippy cup?
Me: Sure thing- I'll get it in a minute.
(a minute later)
I'm pouring the milk in her red sippy cup when I hear mid-pour, "Mommy, water sippy cup!"
I figured since I already had a sippy cup full of milk that I'd drink some of the milk, pour out the rest in our rice bowls (something she was also asking for), and rinse out the cup and pour my water (which was in my big cup) into her sippy cup- end of story, right? I WISH! The next thing I know Phoebe is pouting (full blown bottom lip pout) with very angry eyes, and her open hands on her face dragging down her cheeks. Needless to say I knew she knew that I knew she wasn't pleased with my actions. My daughter does not throw the loudest or most violent tantrums, but she does throw some serious attitude and has a glare that could pierce even the thickest skin. I had tried my best, hadn't I? I, as calmly as I could, explained that the water that was in the sippy cup, the big pink cup, and the faucet was all the same water. She whispered harshly, "I'm sad!" and then after a few seconds of silence she again whispered gruffly, "I"m angry!" What was I supposed to do? It was at this point I knew that she was either going to bend to the situation or she was going to get her way via her tantrum.
Now it may seem like a silly thing. Why shouldn't I just give in to her? It's a simple request and all it took was me waddling over to the kitchen, lift my legs over the baby gate (yes I still have it up), and empty out the cup, turn on the faucet, and fill up her sippy cup. But what kind of behavior would I be enforcing by giving in? A very wise mother once told me, "Pick your battles wisely." and maybe this was not the best battle to pick, but I picked it for this reason: I'm not going to give in to her tantrum (and yes- it was a tantrum. She didn't have to be throwing herself on the floor for it to be a tantrum). I commended her for being honest with her feelings (it had been a great morning and I had a little extra patience stored up) and then I asked why she was angry. I rephrased it as, "What has made you feel angry?" (she doesnt' quite get the concept of "why") She refused to tell me, but the glare continued. So I asked again what made her feel angry. No answer- just a glare. Okay then... "Phoebe please go sit down and eat your rice." Another burst of attitude with full blown bottom lip pout and continued glare. (I should mention Bubba was happily eating his banana in his chair while all this is going on- hey why not? Free drama without pressing any buttons!) My blood pressure rose slightly as I was trying oh so hard to keep myself from raising my voice (yeah I have a slight problem with that). "Phoebe, please eat your rice." Continued glare and a huffed whisper, "I'm angry." Oh great- now what? She's mad because she didn't get her water in her sippy cup from the faucet and now she refuses to eat her cereal. It's at this point I'm wondering why God gave me a daughter first. I mean seriously- boys just give it to you like it is, but girls make you read their minds and get mad when you can't!
Here we go... the battle of the wills has come to full fruition. It's Momma vs Phoebe. Momma- pregnant and hormonal in one corner! Phoebe- 3 years old (that's enough explanation) in the other! I have picked this battle and I will win- not just because I want to. NO- I NEED to win this one. So... I, as calmly as I can, ask her to take her spoon in her hand and take a bite of her rice. *no movement- just a glare* Again- I ask her to take her spoon in her hand and take a bite of her rice (a bit more frustration seeps through). *no movement- just a glare* For those who don't know me- we discipline with a spank spoon (I'd be happy to explain why we do this). I asked her to come receive her discipline (no I'm not making that up- I honestly word it just like that). It's at this point I spank her bottom, and tell her it was a bad decision to choose a spanking over eating her food. She cries for a little bit (for obvious reasons). I ask her again to eat her food and she takes one bite... and another and another until about half of her rice is gone (I have to admit it was a large serving). She stops for a minute and I ask her "Are you full? You may get down now if you're full." Immediately she climbs down and drinks the water from her sippy cup before going over to her stuffed animals and playing. (Bubba is still munching away happily on his banana then proceeds to wipe the remains on his hands into his hair- oh joy)
I thought to myself, "She just ate half her food, and drank the water from the sippy cup. So what was all the fuss about?" She looked over at me and smiled because I'm sure the very confused look on my face was slightly comical. A few minutes later we were watching "I Dream Of Jeannie (With the Light Brown Hair)" like nothing happened and I guess that's the way it should be. No anger was held on to, no prolonged rejection, no left over feelings... we were free to be happy again. I'm sure this won't be my last run in with the dreaded "Tantrum", but at least this battle was in the end a win for the both of us.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Finding Ways to Make Some Moo-la While Doing Something I Enjoy
Don't get me wrong- I love my "job". Being a stay at home mom, holding down the fort, saving money where I can, and having the freedom to get up and go whenever the need arises... but it doesn't pay well (at all). I figure any way to earn a little extra could help. I'm not talking about a "serious" job (I already have one of those). I'm talking about something part time (spare time) and something that won't interfere with the running of this house because whether I feel like it or not, this house doesn't run without me. I've discovered that those little ads at the top of my blog can actually earn me some money. Here's where I need your help. If you like this blog, share it. Even if you DON'T like reading about my crazy randomness- share me. And while you share and share and share- click on those ad links at the top and help a girl out. Oh- and comment on my posts (not on Facebook- on my actual blog). I enjoy getting feedback- positive and negative.
Now that I've asked a favor from all my FB friends... here's something I can do for you. My goal is to keep you updated on a minimum weekly basis (maybe on a daily basis! Wouldn't that be something?!) Get EXCITED because in the upcoming weeks you're gonna find out how my labor/delivery went, probably see Abby's first pics, get updates on how Abby's doing, how I'm doing, breastfeeding conundrums (hopefully the lack thereof), my experience with flat diapers on a newborn, random ramblings from a sleep deprived momma (they will probably get crazy too- just saying), adjusting to my new part of life's journey, the emotional (hormonal) upheaval postpartum, and the reality of caring for three kiddos ages 3,1, and a brand spankin' new! I'm all excited just thinking about it! :-) So- SHARE ME, LIKE ME, CLICK ON THE ADS! :-D It will all be much appreciated. :-)
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
The Final Weeks of Pregnancy... Yeah I Kinda Forgot How AWFUL They Are!
In all honesty, when I am not experiencing it for myself, I can get quite irritated at the Facebook posts and comments like "I just want this baby OUT!" or "I am SOOOOOO ready!". But here I am almost 36 weeks pregnant IN July, caring for a 3 yr old AND a 1 yr old. I should probably have more compassion on the women who have only one thing on their mind during the last 4-6 weeks of pregnancy because whether or not I like it or whether or not people are also irritated at me for saying this... I AM SOOOOOOOO SUPER READY!!! I have never wanted to be not pregnant so badly in my life! It is only for the sake of the little person on the inside that I have decided not to forgo the homebirth I am planning and go with an induction... TODAY. These are the things a mother does for their children. That is what love does- total self sacrifice for the welfare of another, right?
Let me explain exactly WHY I am so ready so maybe you can understand where I'm coming from and maybe you'll be less irritated with my cries for mercy.
I didn't mention it before but I figured now is a good a time as any. Only a few friends and relatives know the struggle I've been experiencing and I've had a great support system of prayers and conversations to help me through it all. I have prenatal depression- been taking supplements to keep me "sane". It's not a severe form, but it has effected my health and mind. I've talked with my midwives about it and it seems in general that I don't blame my baby and I love my unborn little one and my family. My depression is more "pregnancy" focused... this means I just hate being pregnant and the physical changes, the things I can't do because I'm pregnant, how pregnancy has halted my life, the guilt I have because I feel like a bad mother to my other two children.... the list could go on and on. I have issues with sleeping, feeling like I didn't want to get out of bed because I had to actually live my life this way. I would cry and cry for no apparent reason and some days I just wanted it to be over. But even through it all I had to remind myself that this little person didn't ask to be here, she was given by a loving God who knows what I can and can't handle with Him. I still hate being pregnant, but I'm thankful that Abby is on her way and she'll be here eventually (seriously- she can't stay in there forever, right?).
Not only does the depression make me antsy to have her here with me already, but the fact that I have two little ones who get the brunt of my frustration and negligence. Seriously, you try enjoying being a mom to two very young children when they constantly make messes that you have to clean up (yeah- good luck bending down), constantly asking for something that requires you to get up (tons of fun especially when your pelvis feels like it's stretching with each step you take), and when they get into something you don't want them to- like the toilet- you have to almost waddle run to stop them and then yet again clean the mess they've made (yes- with poop and pee to boot). I've wanted to hold my kiddos close, rock them to bed, and cuddle them without the fear that the weight of their bodies or their very able legs don't do damage to the little one on the inside. Yeah- I'm a terrible mom. It almost seems like they see the irritation more than any other person in the world.
And on top of it all, my body never really gave me "signs" of prelabor (other than braxton hicks) with my previous pregnancies. The only real sign I knew labor was coming was my water breaking. Yay! This time around... I've had contractions, loose stools, feeling ill, increased discharge, tons of pressure, blah blah blah... and I'm glad she's not born yet- Abby's not ready, I'm not full-term yet. This is what happens when your body is experienced at being pregnant. :-p
My lesson is not so much for everyone else to have patience with my whining and belly-aching (literally). This goes to me more than anyone else. When I read or hear a very pregnant woman go on and on about how they just want to hold their baby already, I'll think twice about being irritated or saying something that really shouldn't be said. These mommas just want to meet the little one that they've waited 9 months to meet. You try waiting that long! :-p I had to write a note so when I deal with this in the future, I will be reminded that I was indeed one of those mommas at some point. Sending love to my other poor mommas out there who have to endure the wait and the irritation from women who are like I was.
Let me explain exactly WHY I am so ready so maybe you can understand where I'm coming from and maybe you'll be less irritated with my cries for mercy.
I didn't mention it before but I figured now is a good a time as any. Only a few friends and relatives know the struggle I've been experiencing and I've had a great support system of prayers and conversations to help me through it all. I have prenatal depression- been taking supplements to keep me "sane". It's not a severe form, but it has effected my health and mind. I've talked with my midwives about it and it seems in general that I don't blame my baby and I love my unborn little one and my family. My depression is more "pregnancy" focused... this means I just hate being pregnant and the physical changes, the things I can't do because I'm pregnant, how pregnancy has halted my life, the guilt I have because I feel like a bad mother to my other two children.... the list could go on and on. I have issues with sleeping, feeling like I didn't want to get out of bed because I had to actually live my life this way. I would cry and cry for no apparent reason and some days I just wanted it to be over. But even through it all I had to remind myself that this little person didn't ask to be here, she was given by a loving God who knows what I can and can't handle with Him. I still hate being pregnant, but I'm thankful that Abby is on her way and she'll be here eventually (seriously- she can't stay in there forever, right?).
Not only does the depression make me antsy to have her here with me already, but the fact that I have two little ones who get the brunt of my frustration and negligence. Seriously, you try enjoying being a mom to two very young children when they constantly make messes that you have to clean up (yeah- good luck bending down), constantly asking for something that requires you to get up (tons of fun especially when your pelvis feels like it's stretching with each step you take), and when they get into something you don't want them to- like the toilet- you have to almost waddle run to stop them and then yet again clean the mess they've made (yes- with poop and pee to boot). I've wanted to hold my kiddos close, rock them to bed, and cuddle them without the fear that the weight of their bodies or their very able legs don't do damage to the little one on the inside. Yeah- I'm a terrible mom. It almost seems like they see the irritation more than any other person in the world.
And on top of it all, my body never really gave me "signs" of prelabor (other than braxton hicks) with my previous pregnancies. The only real sign I knew labor was coming was my water breaking. Yay! This time around... I've had contractions, loose stools, feeling ill, increased discharge, tons of pressure, blah blah blah... and I'm glad she's not born yet- Abby's not ready, I'm not full-term yet. This is what happens when your body is experienced at being pregnant. :-p
My lesson is not so much for everyone else to have patience with my whining and belly-aching (literally). This goes to me more than anyone else. When I read or hear a very pregnant woman go on and on about how they just want to hold their baby already, I'll think twice about being irritated or saying something that really shouldn't be said. These mommas just want to meet the little one that they've waited 9 months to meet. You try waiting that long! :-p I had to write a note so when I deal with this in the future, I will be reminded that I was indeed one of those mommas at some point. Sending love to my other poor mommas out there who have to endure the wait and the irritation from women who are like I was.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
I Know My Opinion May Be Controversial...
But only the people who actually read my blog will know what I think. Honestly- it doesn't matter what I think (I'm just one person)- so if you decide not to read my blog after this, I wouldn't think any less of you. I woke up from my nap and checked Facebook and everything seemed to be about the Casey Anthony case from how the justice system in America is screwed up to how awful that a murderer walks free after doing something so horrendous to her child. I am somewhat surprised that Casey Anthony walks away from this circus as a "free" woman- even though she's really not. I am very sad that this little one was taken from this world at that hands of her mother in such an unspeakable manner. That's not the controversial part.
Every day children are taken out of this world at the hands of their mothers and no one bats an eye. The decision to have an abortion is premeditated murder if you want to take it to an extreme. Most cases it's out of sheer desperation or being uneducated of the process your body and the body of your child endure and as a result the mother is left with such remorse that it leads to depression or a slew of other destructive behaviors such as drug use and sexual promiscuity. Abortion is not taking out a "parasite" or "thing". Abortion is killing a child. These victims are just as innocent as Caylee Anthony. Now, I am NOT attacking the mothers who chose to have an abortion- it is a difficult thing to endure and something that they will have to deal with the rest of their lives and I truly believe that God forgives and heals these women. I am stating the fact that a child is innocent no matter how small.
So even if my first statement upset you, please continue to read. As many on Facebook have stated- God's judgement will prevail even if this world's justice system doesn't. I completely agree. What I don't agree with is that it will only happen for this young woman or any "bad" people. For those who have not accepted the free gift of salvation in Jesus Christ- judgement awaits. God paid a high price- the blood of His Son Jesus- to bring men and women guilty of sin into a relationship with Him. Those who in essence say, "I'm good enough to go to Heaven- I don't need your ticket." or "There are so many roads to get there- I don't need your narrow minded way." are basically telling the perfect Judge, the most righteous Judge and jury, that they're good enough to get "off the hook" and that they don't take Him seriously. It would be like Casey Anthony walking up and telling that judge- "Sure I killed her, but I've done enough good to go free." or "Psssh- who are you to tell me that I'm guilty!". Unlike this world's system- God is perfect and no one can say He EVER got the verdict wrong. I believe that even if Casey Anthony on her deathbed accepted Jesus Christ in all sincerity- she would go to Heaven, but it would only be because of the sacrifice Christ made on the cross. See, Jesus paid for that sin, the sin of her murdering her own child. His grace doesn't stop at the sins we say are too big. His blood covers all sin. I pray that she does come to know Christ as her Savior because Hell is a million times worse than any "justice" this world can offer.
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