Repeating Hang-Ups

On Wednesday I took what I somewhat teasingly refer to as a Mental Health Day. Jadyn had a doctor's appointment that morning, so I decided to take the day off to spend with her, rather than slaving away processing transcripts and withdrawal requests for the local community college population.

At the appointment, the doctor gushed with all sincerity about Jadyn being one of his absolute favorite patients (which he says every time, and every time I believe him). He couldn't believe she's 3 already and wished for her to be a baby again. Yeah, me too, some days.

After some shopping, craft painting and lunch at our favorite Mexican restaurant, we headed to the park for a little pre-nap energy explusion. (Read: play.) With trepidation I pulled into the parking lot, having noticed multiple minivans and SUVs already in place. These were elltale signs that a Stay-At-Home-Mothers group had decended upon the park. It was too late to turn around; I had already promised Jadyn some playtime.

Why was I bothered by this mommyfest? I used to be one of them, after all, trying to balance the right amount of activity, nutrition, education, play and naptime into our days. And that was just it. I no longer fit in the library, kindermusik, play date crowd. I'm a working mother now, full time. On days like these I loathe the situation, but for the time being I can't change it.

We walked up to the elaborate play apparati and I encouraged Jadyn to go play while found a bench on the other side of the playset, far away from the mommy clique. She was more interested in doing her own thing. That's great, I thought. I applaud her for her independence. But I saw how she watched the other little girls chase each other around the slide. Again, I encouraged her. "Go play with them, it's ok." She did join their ranks, albeit briefly, before returning to her own amusement on the monkey bars.

I was sad. She's a friendly kid, often walking up to complete strangers in the store to ask their name. I suddenly wondered if my inner struggle with shyness was rubbing off on her. I used to think I wasn't shy at all. As I child I was told I was outgoing so I figured it must be true. But as I got older and encountered more "real life", I allowed myself to be extroverted in certain comfortable scenarios, such as during performances. I'm scared to death to walk up to a stranger and introduce myself. It probably seems schizophrenic that I can live in front of a crowd on stage and cower at the thought of meeting one new person. But the more I "grow up", the more I realize the issues that plague me.

I didn't want to go talk to those moms. Not because I didn't think I'd like them. Not because I thought we'd have nothing in common. I've seen them around town and on occasion spoken to a few of them. That's not why I was afraid to talk to them. It was because I thought they'd reject me. Reject me for my weight. Reject me for my income (or lack thereof). Reject me for my clothing or hairstyle. Reject me for not staying home like they do.

Or even worse, ignore me completely, as though I were invisible.

I sat there worrying that Jadyn was becoming me faster than I could teach her otherwise. I felt my insecurity becoming hers by osmosis. At just that moment, Jadyn saw a little girl fall nearby. She rushed to her side, asking, "Are you OK?" She comforted the girl before returning to her own fun.

Her heart, her sweet, caring, compassionate heart, reached out. This is the girl who knows the names of every child not only in her class, but in most of the school. This is the girl who can't leave at the end of the school day without getting half a dozen hugs from friends. This is the girl whose name all the kids know, even in the younger and older classes. Is she perfect? Of course not. She's human, after all, and is bound to inherit a few trouble spots from Paul and I, and dear old Adam & Eve. But will she overcome her imperfection to become the best person she can possibly be?

I have no doubt. God has already started on her. Let's just hope I help the process, not hinder it.

Round and round

Secondary infertility is usually defined as the inability to conceive or carry a pregnancy to term after successfully and naturally conceiving one or more children. It sounds pretty cut and dried - straight-forward and easy to understand. It's much more complicated when you're living through it.

When you go through infertility without having had any successful pregnancies, you begin to have all sorts of questions:

• What if I'm not meant to be a parent?
• Am I being punished for the sins of my youth?
• How far am I willing to go to have a child?
  
• What will my future be like without a child?

But when you go through secondary infertility, there are different questions:

• Is it wrong for me to want another baby when I already have been blessed with a healthy, happy child?
• How do I answer the ubiquitous question, "When are you having another?"
• Can I really be happy with just one?
• If I never have another, how do I keep from spoiling the one I have?
• Why can't I just be content?
• What worked last time that isn't working this time?

After 2 years and 2 miscarriages, I'm getting tired. And I'm getting old. Please, God.

And in other news...

That old expression "when it rains, it pours" seems rather cliche, rather simple. But when it's happening in your own life it often feels like "when you're drowning you will be offered a drink".

The job search continues. I had one interview that went really well, at least from my side of the table, on January 28. I still have not heard from them but they said that it can take a long time for them (an international corporation with local establishments) to complete the hiring process. They said that getting someone behind the desk by February 18 would be moving fast for them. *sigh*

I must have sent out over 20 resumes by now. I don't really want to have to file an unemployment claim (even though I qualify) until it becomes absolutely necessary. I still believe I have a great background to fit the jobs for which I applied, but I must admit, my faith is beginning to get shaky.

Oh, and last week I found out I was pregnant. This week, by some freak circumstance that I couldn't possibly begin to understand, I am no longer pregnant. Right. Again.

I know God doesn't play games, but really. Come on now.

Utterings

Jadyn, not quite 2 1/2 years old, has entered the "why" phase. It's only just started; she's only asked a few times so far. But I'm already worried - not about her, mind you, but about myself.

Today I actually uttered one of those generational phrases that every new mother insists they will never use.

Me: Jadyn, get down from there.

Jadyn: Why?

Me (as an autonomic response): Because I said so.

Even though I immediately apologized to her and gave her a valid reason, it was too late. It was done. It was official.

I'm a mommy cliche.

Santa Baby

What on earth are we gonna tell Jadyn about Santa? I keep going over this in my head and in conversations with some of my friends. Long before I was a mother, a friend and I were discussing the concept. She said that if you tell your kids about Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and Jesus, what happens when they figure out the truth about the first three? Will they then question the reality of Jesus as well? So at that point I decided that when had kids, I would tell them about the real man (St. Nicolas) and how he evolved into the idea of Santa. But the whole deal of putting out cookies and reindeer food? Behaving so Santa would not leave coal in the stockings? Nah.

But, as with so many "ideals" that change once the reality of parenthood hits, I'm rethinking my position on this. Today my favorite blogger, DaMomma, posted about this very concept. I know that by this time next year, when Jadyn will be 3, we'll have to really have this figured out. But so far, we just let Jadyn recognize Santa as a character, much as she recognizes Dora or Barney.

Open to input, folks. Please comment.

And Now I'm Back...to Cyber Space!

Thanks for hanging in there with me. It's been a month since I posted on here - sorry about that. But I have been posting on Jadyn's blog all month in honor of National Blog Posting Month. (NaBloPoMo) So head on over there (if you haven't already) and check out the cuteness so overwhelming that you feel like you've been smothered in puppies.

"Official"

I went to the doctor's office yesterday for another ultrasound. We hoped to be able to see fetal circulation and thereby determine a more firm due date. Hooray! Our official date is May 26th.

Please pray for us during this time. For some reason I'm more scared this time than I was with Jadyn about possible problems. Maybe it's my age, I don't know. I'm nervous, but I also know that God is totally in control and planned all along for this pregnancy to happen. And I'm so thankful!

Anticipation

I am so excited! My friend Kim and I are going to a women's retreat in Colorado this week, and I'm counting down the hours till we get on the plane. She is picking me up at 3 AM on Thursday to catch a 6:10 AM flight from Birmingham. UGH! Maybe I will just stay up. I'm sure I'll be too wired to sleep. Then again, I've been so exhausted lately, maybe I'll go to bed at 7 PM. Who knows.

The event, called Captivating Women's Retreat, is put on by the Ransomed Heart ministry. It takes place on the side of a mountain that is 14,000 feet tall. I had to check with the doctor to see if going to a high elevation in my "condition" is ok. He said I could go, but no high ropes course or giant swing for me.

Friends who have gone on this retreat before say that all hell tends to break loose right before the event - so much so that it may seem a better idea to stay home when the time comes. And BOY has that ever been the case in our life! The day after I found out I'm pregnant, I wrecked our minivan. We're still trying to get a replacement vehicle before the clock runs out on our insurance-paid-for rental car. Then Paul got sick last night and is at the doctor right now. Stress, stress, stress. But we recognize it for what it is. It's a ploy to distract me and tempt me to stay home. So I say, "No way!"

I'm really looking forward to this event. Sure, it will be great to completely "unplug" for a while - no phones or internet for 4 days. But the prospect of a true "mountaintop" experience with God is just so appealing right now. And getting to share it with my dear friend Kim makes it even better.

I am still concerned about the high altitude. I was worried about that before we found out about the pregnancy. I'm not in the best shape as it is. I get winded far too easily here at sea level. How am I going to handle the difference in oxygen levels? And now I'm breathing for two. The doctor said to make sure I'm well hydrated because that helps prevent altitude sickness. So great - I'll be peeing even more than I already do. But if it keeps me and Teeny ok, I'll live in the bathroom. I hope the sessions are piped in on the loudspeaker.

The Question

There's an interesting phenomena that hits when your first child approaches the 2-year mark. You start hearing "The Question". I promise, in the past 2 weeks, it must have come up in conversation at least 10 times. It seems everyone wants to know.

"So when are you having another one?"

Frankly I'm surprised I didn't see this coming sooner. I suppose that up until this point a mother is given that "baby" grace period. But Jadyn is officially no longer a baby or even a toddler. The 2nd birthday marked her in most circles as a "preschooler". Suddenly the goings-on of my reproductive system are once again considered an appropriate topic of conversation. Even Jadyn's doctor asked about it, saying, "Hey, I'm a pediatrician. For me, it's job security!"

The first time this baby question pops up is when you've been married a few years. You're past that "newlywed" phase and it's time to get on with the business of fruitfulness and multiplication. Because this took longer for us than for most, we had to bear up under the procreation pressure (only rarely unspoken) for quite a long time.

I suppose part of me is simply amused. Why wouldn't it be my turn to have another? And look how great Jadyn turned out; wouldn't I want to grace the world with more of that cuteness? But the other part - the bigger part - is scared. I'm scared that I face another long trek of infertility. After all, it took 4 1/2 years for Jadyn, and technically we've been "open" to the possibility of pregnancy for over a year now. Then there's the whole twisted guilt trip of already having a child. "At least you have Jadyn if you never have another." True, we have Jadyn and she is more amazing that we could have dreamed. So do we dare want another child? Is it wrong to want Jadyn to be a sister?

Time is ticking. I'm 36 and Paul is on the cusp of 40. Odds are already against us. I was already feeling the pressure in myself - now it's external too.

So my answer to all those who ask? "We're working on it."

Flashback

Two years ago this was my post:
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Ticking Timebomb

Now that my parents are here and have helped us with the unpacking, I'm beginning to feel like a ticking timebomb, with folks just waiting for me to go off. Every time I wince in pain, everyone jumps, even though it's from a sore hip or something non-uterus related. I keep getting phone calls along the lines of "You're not at the hospital?" to which I want to respond, "I'm talking to you, aren't I? You called me at home, didn't you?" I'm telling ya, I really hope this happens sooner rather than later now. You know what they say about a watched pot never boiling? I wonder if that's true of a pregnant woman too.

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I was great with child, just finishing up moving, and watching the news about Katrina's aftermath. And I realize now that what "they" say is true. You're never really "ready".

Here we are are, 2 years later. This week has been consumed with the business of birthday party preparations. A local playground is the venue and Elmo is the chosen them. (Yes, I promise to post picture's on Jadyn's blog.)

I guess because of the anticipated celebration I have been nostalgic. Clicking through old blog postings, smiling at photos from the last 2 years, and realizing that while it hasn't always been easy, I really HAVE forgotten most of the hard parts in favor of the good times. And there have been good times aplenty. A hundred"firsts", a thousand pictures, a million smiles.

I'm a different person than I was then. In some ways more intense, in others far less so. More secure but more of a worrier than ever. Busier but too often less productive. More exhausted and more satisfied.

I love being Mommy.

The Littlest Missionary

We frequently eat at a local Chinese buffet here in town. When Jadyn started talking, I taught her the Chinese word for hello, which is ni hao. She has quickly become a favorite of the restaurant staff, and as soon as we walk in we are greeted by a crowd of smiling Chinese girls all wanting to hold and play with our tiny princess. It is seriously adorable. They've even started teaching her other words like thank you and good-bye. Quite the linguist. She even knows to only use those words with the Chinese girls - she speaks English to everyone else.

But tonight it occurred to me that all of this may become a lot more than simple cuteness. Tonight we told them about what Jadyn's name means - "God has heard, God has answered" - and our struggle to conceive and the subsequent blessing of Jadyn. The girl who understood me the best translated for her friends. In that moment I realized it was the first time we'd brought God into our conversations. Hopefully this is just the first of many times that Jadyn will help bring the Gospel to people of another culture.

She also likes the fried rice.

Three Little Words

I was away from Thursday to Sunday helping with a sort of youth retreat over the weekend. I returned fulfilled yet exhausted. Being with 36 teenage girls for 72 hours can be a lot of fun and rather draining, all at the same time.

I came home after not seeing Jadyn for 3 1/2 days and I was SO ready to see her; I was greeted by laughter and squeals of delight. After hugs and kisses, I said, "I love you." To my glad surprise, she looked at me and for the first time in her life said, "I wuv yoo!" Through tears I picked her up and held her close.

What a welcome home.

My Shoes

Right now Jadyn is walking around in my shoes.
In many ways, I hope she never really does that.
But it sure is cute for now.





(I'll post the rest of the Orange Conference stuff later.)

Conformity

Today I noticed something interesting as I watched my daughter play. We were outside in the back yard. It's a wide open space, and there are a few trails worn in the dirt from our dog running back and forth along a consistent path.

Jadyn decided to explore a bit, and when I looked up, I saw her following one of these trails rather than blazing her own. It seemed almost instinctive, like going along the predetermined path was not a choice but a necessity. I saw her try to go off the path once, only to return to it within a few steps.

I wondered to myself, "What exactly does this mean? Is she already a conformist? Is she more likely a follower than a leader? Will it be harder for her to think 'outside the box'?"

And then I chilled out and realized that she probably is just brilliant enough to realize that she was able to walk more steadily on the path than on the uneven grass.

Sheesh, sometimes I'm such a freak.

What we have here is a failure to communicate!

The thing about talking to a toddler is that they understand most of what you say, and all of what they say, but have no clue that it comes out in a verbal glob of goo.

Most conversations with Jadyn (especially in the car) go like this:

"Mama!"

"Yes, baby."

"I wano schee nmoewn wnoew sye."

"Oh, ok."

"Mama!"

"Yes, baby."

"I wano scheen mynwo ee-yo."

"Ok, baby."

"MAMA!"

And so it goes. I have just begun to interpret some of this. She is often asking for me to sing to her, I think, and one of her favorites is Old MacDonald. After a rousing round of animal sounds (here, there and everywhere), I often hear this coming from her carseat:

"Kua la da, Kua la da, ee aye oooh!"

I can't stand the cuteness!!!

Flashback

Don't get me wrong. I love being a fully functional, independent, productive adult member of society. I would NOT want to go back to most of the phases of my childhood and DEFINITELY not my teen years.

But there are times when living the life of an 18 month old seems like heaven. No work, no responsibility, just snacks, play and a regular afternoon nap. Those really were the good old days.

Stuck

There's nothing like having a sick child at home to make one feel "stuck". I feel like I've been in this situation for weeks. Maybe I have - I tend to lose track of time.

I still wouldn't trade it for the world. She's worth every bit of it.

I just hate to see her not being herself. My mom used to say, "When you're a mom, you'd rather be sick than your child." I never really understood that until I had a child of my own. Now I'd be sick for weeks rather than her sick for a day.

I can't imagine how mom's of chronically sick kids do it. Most would probably say, "You just do." Kudos to them all.

What's Love Got to Do With It?

I realized this week that I tend to approach Bible reading with the following subconscious thought: "Ok (heavy sigh), let's see what else I'm not doing right that God wants me to get straight." Lately it's been hard to see anything but correction in my personal devotion times. And while I understand that correction comes because He loves me, the love seemed secondary. It's as though I see God as primarily being interested in pointing out the myriad of things that are wrong with me.

So earlier this week, I was reading the "Love" passage - 1 Cor. 13 - and I was expecting God to show me all the ways I have not been very loving lately. I haven't been patient with my child, kind to my spouse, etc, etc, etc. But that's not what I came away with. What I saw instead was that all those things about love are also about God Himself, since God is love, according to 1 John 4. And then something else occurred to me. All these things are characteristic of the relationship He wants to have with me - this is how He treats me!

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." 1 Cor 13:4-7

When I looked at the passage from a new perspective, I found that I was able to find encouragement along with reproof, love along with discipline. It shouldn't surprise me. Now that I am a parent, I find myself correcting my toddler not just so I can so "NO" 1835 times a day (and believe me, it feels like that sometimes). I do it because I love her and I want her to grow into the woman God intends her to be. Doing so means disciplining her even now. It means keeping her safe, adjusting her already independent attitude, and instructing her on proper behavior. How much more can I expect God to parent me in such a manner?

I love it when God screws my head on straight.

Bound to Happen

I knew I couldn't avoid it forever. I hoped, I prayed, but in the back of my mind I knew that eventually I'd have to deal with it.

My child is throwing up.

I'm handling it much better than I thought I would. I thought that when faced with this I would just add to the mess but so far, I've kept relatively calm and kept my lunch.

Wow, motherhood is fun.

Big Girl

Today was the first day of Mother's Day Out. It was so strange for me to be packing a lunch for a 16 month old.

We got there, she walked into her room and barely looked back.

I thought I wasn't gonna have to feel this way until kindergarten!