Next

I guess even a full moon isn't powerful enough to get this girl to budge! She's still firmly in there.

New plan: acupuncture tomorrow afternoon before the ultrasound. I've never done acupuncture before, but I hear it works for some mamas. I've also heard that it can take a few days to kick things into gear.

At this point I would gladly welcome Daisy Christmas morning if she would just come out before Tuesday!

On a less-freaking-out note, my girlfriend Christina is in town and she brought some of my favorite little girls with her. Our kids LOVE each other and it's been SO fun watching them play together. They even like to just snuggle on the couch. It's way too cute.

I'm thankful for the distraction. So thankful.

41 Weeks

41 weeks today.

I saw my Midwife last night. She is soothing and calm and that helps. I'm not so angry anymore. I'm .... still very, very READY.

Here's the good news - I'm progressing. I'm about 3-4cm dilated and my cervix has moved to an anterior position. One thing I love about Mary is that she really doesn't try to force what SHE wants for my birth. She's willing to strip my membranes, but really encouraged me to wait a little bit. We're going to get an ultrasound in the next few days just to make sure my amniotic fluid is still good and, if necessary, will start trying to stimulate labor on Sunday.

Daisy is healthy. Her heartbeat is awesome, her movement is insane and I'm still completely healthy. There's nothing to be concerned about - other than the possibility of reaching 42 weeks. At that point Mary has to transfer care and I would end up giving birth in a hospital. I really, really, really, really, REALLY don't want that. Not at ALL.

I left my appointment last night with some crazy ass contractions. All through dinner and putting the kids to bed I was stopping to breathe and focus. And then I went to bed.... and woke up STILL Shamu.

Mary said, in her experience, women do tend to go into labor either just before a full moon or just after. Tonight is the full moon (the lunar eclipse didn't start spontaneous labor), so COME ON baby!!!

Come to think of it... maybe that was the cause of those crazy contractions last night?

I'm debating what I should do today.... clean like crazy? Walk to the park again? Whole Foods to stock up on supplements? Watch movies and snuggle my kids? Sit on the ball?

All I really want to do is give birth. And I can't MAKE that happen.

Oldie but a Goodie

I need some serious distraction these days... as my previous post proves. So, when I've read through all of my favorite blogs, I re-read my own. I found this one from January 2009 and was reminded of the strength of Jesus in people. Although, we have little community these days, I am deeply thankful for the people who have composed our "church" throughout our lives.

I'm reposting because I love it THAT MUCH :)

Church?

I've gone to church my entire life.

I've been to Sunday School, Youth Group and Adult services.

I've been a leader; I've been a follower and I've even spent seasons of life not going to church at all.

To be honest, I've always seen "church" as a gathering of people for a few hours in a building.

There are programs and classes.

We all get dressed up.

We sing songs.

We listen to the announcements.

We take communion.

We greet our neighbors.

We listen to the sermon and take notes.

We pick our kids up from Sunday School.

We go to lunch.

We go home.

Lately, I have been learning alot about community.

I've read in the book of Acts that the early church made a regular practice of attending a worship service together, eating dinner together and celebrating. They shared everything they had. They made sure everyone's needs were met.

How strange.

Who gave the announcements?

Who headed the committees?

Who handled the sound system?

Who operated the video?

Who ran the church office?

It seems like the early church was more of a commune than a church service.

They ate together every day.

They were always looking out for everyone's needs.

They CELEBRATED.

To be honest, I have had a hard time picturing it.

I've longed for it.

But I haven't been sure what that would like look in America.

Last Monday my husband moved out.

It's not entirely a bad thing. He moved out to find Jesus; to deal with the patterns in his life that just wont die.

We've been moving in and out of sadness and selfishness and destruction for five years.

This is the most honest and healthy place we have ever been.

He is working to come home.

But he is still gone. And I am incredibly sad and lonely.

The day he left my girlfriend Stephanie moved in. The next night her husband and two dogs came too.

They HAVE a house. They HAVE lives.

But they are here, every day and every night.

They have stayed up with me, watching TV till 12:30 in the morning. She has let me pour out my heart over and over again. She has spoken words of hope and celebration into me even though I have been hopeless and grieving.

They have carried the weight of my babies for me. They make lunch and dinner. They change diapers and help with baths. They tell stories and take walks.

I have not, for one moment, felt alone.

Yesterday morning I woke up and realized...

This is church.

Church is sleeping on an air mattress in my son's room.

Church is cleaning my house.

Church is eating every meal with me; constantly letting me know that they are IN this with us.

Church is my girlfriend Alisa showing up without hesitation to let me cry and to fold all my laundry and put it away.

Church is my oldest friend, Nicole, flying in to celebrate my son's first birthday and spending every minute of this weekend with me; helping me process.

Church is my dad taking Aravis to school so that I can go to Holy Yoga.

Church is my mom coming over to watch the kids so I can clean the house for Judah's birthday party.

Church is my cousin bringing vegan ice cream sandwiches over.

Church is Tassie calling me from Belize.

Church is Carol saying, "yep. this is humiliating."

Church is Travis saying that he has hope; that's he's not worried about Joe turning to his flesh.

Church is Jonni calling and Lisa texting.

Church is Bethany coming over for dinner and yoga.

Church is Jennifer offering her empty house for an escape.

Church is countless people I don't even know well writing to say that they are praying.

Church is the community that rises up around you to sink down into a dark, dark place.

Church is holy.

Church is people.

Church is the Spirit of God flowing from heart to heart.

Church is a celebration in the midst of disaster.

Church is not, and has never been, a building or a program.

Church is community.

And I am so glad that I am a part of Church.

Seriously

Through my entire pregnancy I have told myself (and anyone who asked) that I'm not concerned with my estimated due date. After all, it is an ESTIMATED due date for a reason, right?

Well, now that all THREE of my "estimated" due dates have come and gone I am really, really angry. There's no other way to explain it. I'm pissed. According to my absolute latest due date I am now 6 days "overdue". Which makes me feel like I have overcooked the turkey.

I'm still in "early" labor - contracting, losing my mucous plug (sorry if that's too much for you), nauseous... and having many, many other symptoms of "impending" active labor. But the hard part hasn't kicked in yet. I'm in liminal space; the space of betwixt and between. I'm on the threshold, just waiting for something to push me over the edge and into the beautiful, agonizing birthing contractions that will bring Daisy from my womb and into my life.

Last night I bounced so hard on the ball I almost fell off. I raged against my uncooperative uterus and my stubborn daughter. I yelled at my husband for telling me that my body IS working. I googled "has anyone ever NOT gone into labor" and found NOTHING. I got up to pee in the middle of the night and told God, over and over again, how angry I am that I'm still pregnant. I woke up this morning still angry and demanding that this is MY body and Daisy MUST vacate it.

I'm still pregnant. Still having contractions that make me want to scream because they hurt like HELL and are STILL too far apart.

Tonight there is a full lunar eclipse - full moon and all. I've read that a full moon can make a woman's water break if she is far enough along. I'm planning on it. I'm willing the moon to pull on the water in my womb and make that damn thing pop.

I fully believe that God created ALL of creation to work in harmony and it totally makes sense to me that he would have included this ability in the moon's functions.

So, I'm not getting off this ball until the moon decides to do it's job and my body decides to GET IT TOGETHER. I'm not even afraid anymore. Just super angry. I am DONE being pregnant. Done.

Free

I just thought this was worth reposting.....

{December 17, 2008}



If I were a free woman I would fill my heart with beauty and move unrestrained.

I would engage in a whirlwind of strength, opening my heart to new horizons and expectations.

I would get in my car and drive until I couldn't find myself.

I would set aside my fear and my inhibitions and I would attempt flight.

I would collapse every night, gloriously tired from every act of courage.

I would run and when I ran out of breath, I would push a little further.

I would open new doors and bravely step through to the other side.

I would love like I had never been betrayed.

I would hope like I had never been disappointed.

I would crash into inspiration and let it wash over me.

I would write until my heart was empty.

I would whisper beautiful, undeniable truths to my children.

I would expect the future to be deep and full.

I would place the immense weight of my soul on the Hero of Life.

I would encourage my children to adventure.

I would encourage my husband to breath deep and take in the cool bravery of living life on this earth.

I would plant and watch things grow.

I would wake up every morning with gratitude for the sun spilling in through my window.

I would sit outside and watch my children play and laugh.

I would cry without shame.

I would embrace my freedom.

If I were a free woman...

I would live like I were free.

My family is full of Narnia fanatics. Hence my daughter's first name - Aravis (The Horse and His Boy). We make every new Narnia movie an event and, gigantically pregnant or not, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader could not be ignored. So we planned ahead (all those different schedules make this very hard) and went to see it tonight. My kids were excited because #1 they know that Aravis' name originates in the series, #2 there is a dragon in the story and #3 Judah is pretty sure Jesus turns into a lion. It was exceptionally fun and we loved the movie (especially because we were all together AND my aunt and cousin happen to be in town as well).

I had a moment in the movie. I love when movies speak to me....

King Caspian realizes that he has been so consumed with what was taken from him that he has overlooked what was given to him. Time stood still for me for a second and I looked over at my little boy sitting on his uncle's lap. I realized that what was given to me in Judah's birth was so much greater than what was taken from me. Yes, I was robbed. I was wounded and traumatized. But I walked away with the most amazing little boy who has filled my life with immeasurable joy. He has been so used by God to remind me what it feels like to be LOVED. He is sensitive and funny. he is healthy and whole. He is smart and engaging. He is beautiful in so many different ways.

I've said it before, but it truly resonates in me now, Judah was worth the price I paid to have him. I wouldn't trade a single second of that entire experience simply because he was the reward.

And, even if Daisy's birth is equally as traumatic I will certainly rejoice in the gift that is my daughter.

That makes it all just a little less scary...

"When my heart was grieved and my spirit embittered, I was senseless and ignorant. I was a brute beast before you.

Yet I am always with you, you hold me by my right hand.

You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will take me into glory.

Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."

{Psalm 73:21-28}

The night before last my contractions were 2-4 minutes apart and required focus and breath. After about 2 hours they were back to 10 minutes apart and much more tolerable.

I woke up yesterday morning and immediately called my midwife, at the very end of my rope. I told her I wanted to be checked to see if I had dilated and she suggested considering checking into the birth center (to have a more private space to labor). I spent the morning crying, processing and praying. It took about 10 minutes after that phone call to realize that the thing standing in my way wasn't the people around me, it wasn't the pressure to HAVE THIS BABY (although, trust me, that was there).

The unconquerable wall was deeper; rooted in Judah's birth almost 3 years ago. That experience changed who I am. Everything surrounding me at that point in my life was heavy and painful. His birth was invasive, abusive and transforming.

From the moment I realized I was pregnant with Daisy I KNEW that I couldn't hold her in. I spent a good portion of my first trimester certain I was going to miscarry (or had already). Spiritually I plummeted into complete darkness. I have never, in my entire life, known such misery, such sorrow, such abandonment. My morning sickness was deeper than a physical affliction - it was a deeply emotional and spiritual disease. God was silent and I was confused and angry. I felt repulsed by the Bible, by the very mention of Jesus or anything remotely relating to him. I cowered in a hole and waited for something to change.

Since entering my second trimester I have slowly crawled out of the darkness. Inch by agonizing inch I've regained my footing. I have felt weak, like I was recovering from a life threatening illness.

And yesterday, everything fell into place. All of the sorrow of the past 3 years; all of the darkness of the past 9 months; all of the questioning and aching. It simply snapped into place. It made sense.

God wasn't silent. I was screaming. I had come to the very center of an isolating and revealing desert. My affliction - my loneliness and trauma - had become impossible to ignore. And I have been TERRIFIED of attempting the impossible again.

I've been in labor for 9 days now. It seems impossible, right? It's not. Along the way my contractions have slowly changed. There are times when I feel just about to cross from early labor contractions into birthing contractions and I just don't. I'm not ready. I spent my entire first trimester certain I couldn't hold my baby in and now I'm just not ready to let her out. I've been scared - so scared that I just can't do it. I couldn't do it with Judah - the pitocin did it. I've lost faith in my body's ability to birth a baby.

But after crying all morning, talking to my midwife for awhile, getting checked (2-3cm) and spending the rest of the day just trying to rest I've somehow found a sweet space of surrender. I've given up being angry with God. I can finally see that he would have had to deny himself to have ever abandoned me. From the very moment of entering sorrow 3 years ago he has not once moved away from me. He has held me by the right hand. I was so grieved, so embittered that I became senseless. I lost all sense of direction, of hope.

I don't know how surrender happens. I don't know what has to shift in someone to relinquish such deeply rooted sorrow and fear, but I can say that, by grace, I'm just floating. I've somehow stopped fighting, stopped raging. My fear has faded. I still have no idea how the hell I am going to give birth. I am still stopping every 10 minutes to breathe through a contraction. I'm still weak and battered from my own prison.

But, at some point, Daisy will decide she's ready. She'll do her thing. My heart's desire is that I will keep floating, keep surrendering. My body has been created to birth her. If my mind will stay out of the way then my girl will come all on her own.