PINK PLASTIC GUITAR

Today was Fiona's 2 month check-up.  I was more than a little nervous about this visit, as our last visit, at 4 days old, was not so fun.  She had jaundice, and had been to the doctor every day since her birth--which means I had been to the doctor every day since delivering her.  I was walking barely faster than an old lady with a walker, my milk STILL hadn't come in, and Fi was ticked off.   She screamed most of the time, and I don't know HOW many nurses came to check and see what was up.  By the time Dave got us all back in the car, Fi and I were BOTH in tears.

So, today I was trepidated--I know, that's not a word, but I like the sound of it.  I had done my research on the shots she was supposed to get today, so I went in knowing what to expect from them, but not from Fi.  Sigh---it was a total relief.  She cooed and smiled, and made all the nurses fall in love with her.  She let the doctor look in her ears, weigh her, measure her, poke her tummy, everything--and didn't even cry.  Until the nurse held her down for her quick 3 shots, she was good as gold, and a little cuddling later, dried right up!  The doctor was so great at answering all my questions and concerns--I love our pediatrician!

Now I won't be so nervous about our 4 month visit--though I will probably still need to stop by Starbucks on the way :)

It has been seven weeks since my beautiful baby girl was born--I can't believe it!  It has changed me in so many ways.  One of the most fun is that I enjoy mornings with her.  Don't get me wrong, when I first wake up to her noises, I think, "Please--just one more hour," but when she turns on the charm, I can't help but be overwhelmed with happiness.

Mornings are Fiona's favorite time at the moment.  She is her happiest in the first hour or so of the morning.  She smiles and coos every time I talk to her--I will just melt the first time she laughs I'm sure. She giggled a little in her sleep the other afternoon--and tears sprang to my eyes immediately.  I've been trying to get her to laugh while awake, but no such luck yet.

She is currently snoozing in the swing, serenaded by classical music that came with it.  There were animal sounds at some point (it's borrowed), but they sound like a dying duck now--not quite sure why.  Classical music is supposed to make babies smarter right?  I doubt I would play it for her otherwise, since i'm not a huge fan myself, but since it's in her swing, she hears it all the time.  So, I guess I'm glad :), though the songs already run through my head, and I find myself humming --dum dum dum DUM di dum....

Well--the list of things I could do while she is asleep is racing around my head, so I'd better do something else before her morning snooze is up, or i won't get another chance for a few hours.  Here's a cute picture of morning Fiona to enjoy.

1. seeing my belly roll like the ocean waves
2. being physically connected to you
3. listening to your heartbeat inside me
4. feeling little feet under my ribcage
5. seeing you respond to my nudges with a nudge of your own
6. Dave cuddling around my belly to be close to you
7. knowing you're almost completely safe in there
8. strangers starting up conversations with me because of the baby bump

This morning I awoke at 5 am--the usual urge to relocate to the facilities yet again.  The sun was just starting to gleam weakly through the dark curtains in the bedroom, and the baby started to roll and tumble in my tummy.  It ached, and continued no matter which way I tossed about.  I wondered, "Is this it?" I knew however that I was just being frivolous with my thoughts, my excited hope for the soon soon soon.  Only yesterday I had been told I was closed tighter than a scared turtle, not in so many words mind you, but I hoped and wondered nonetheless.  Isn't it funny--the things we consider, allowing our minds to wander aimlessly, or it is just me that lets mine go off unchaperoned without a care in the world?  I used to spend hours laying out a perfect plan of execution for the uses of the money I would win from the lottery--the lottery I never bought a ticket for, and was too young to buy.  But the soon soon soon will not quit echoing in my heart, my head, my stomach.  I see little feet the size of my thumb as I throw the tennis balls to the dogs in the early morning.  I smell baby's head as I bake banana bread before the sprinklers turn on in the haze of sunrise.  I feel small fists curl around my finger as I turn on the coffee pot and make my favorite dark roast for breakfast.  It is not this morning, but it is soon, soon, soon...

I'm reading a book right now, mentioned in my previous post, called "One Thousand Gifts."  It's very good, and today I read about eucharisteo, or thanksgiving.  How we cannot truly be saved without thanksgiving in our hearts to God, in everything.  Humans were kicked out of the garden of Eden for not being thankful for what God had given them, for looking for more.  So to remedy that, we must be thankful in everything, and this can be traced through Jesus' life on earth as well.  We see that in the most extreme circumstances, he gives thanks to his father.  The chapter I read in the book today talked about how true joy, and living in this life with a purpose, comes from our willingness to give thanks to God for all things.  I was sitting here thinking, "how do I give thanks to God for a miscarriage, for disease, for death"; just saying "thank you God for my miscarriage" was very weird, and I asked God if I was doing it right.  I want to thank him in all things, because I know that he is a God of grace, love, joy, and thanksgiving, and he gives us power to partake in those things, but physically, verbally, emotionally, HOW do we do that.  I don't have an answer really, except to say, if I ask him how, I know he will show me, so I will just keep doing it until he has perfected it in me.  So today I say eucharisteo--thankgiving, chara--joy, charis--grace, and wonder if those should be my next tattoos, to constantly remind me that they are God's keys, his gifts, his way of salvation and way living it out and accepting it in our daily lives.

Yesterday hit me about Saturday afternoon.  "Mother's Day is tomorrow," I thought...I want to hide.  At the first "happy mother's day," I wanted to turn and run.  Instead of dredge up a smile and say, "thank you," I wanted to say, "It should have been."  But having a big baby bump is not the way to be inconspicuous on Mother's Day--you get lots of "awww's" and "when are you due"s.  Last Mother's Day I announced we were going to have a baby to my Mom & Dad; I was so excited to tell them on this day.  I sent Mom a card that said something like, "Happy Grandmother's Day," and then penciled in "again."  She didn't get it at first--but then, I was told, she burst in to tears and gave me a call.  People always ask if this is my first, and I say 'yes,' but I want to say "No, we lost Grace."  But thankfully she was never lost, and I was never alone, and God gave me Grace, and more grace, to say, "You are enough God."  

In general, I think all people are capable of all manner of harm, but hope for them to struggle against those negative thoughts/actions/yearnings, and constantly improve on their failings.  I believe that it is extremely improbable, if not impossible, for a person to be unprejudiced.  Some may say I am using the word "prejudice" in the place of "bias," but I feel that "prejudice" IS "bias" with negative emotion attached, and therefore it works for my explanation at this point.  We so often think of prejudice in only the extreme forms--racism, religious extremism, bullying, hate crimes, etc, but we miss the ones that affect our every day actions.  The outgoing vs. the introvert, skinny vs. fat, curly hair vs. straight hair, loud vs. quiet, open-minded vs. close-minded, Christian vs. non, American vs. non, Republican vs. Democrat, Northern vs. Southern, upper-class vs. working-class, mine vs. yours, these are some of the things that control the way we do things.  Having a prejudice is always a bad thing; whereas having a bias is just a fact of life.  For example, if we have had a good experience with family, we are generally biased that our spouse is the best, that our children are the most beautiful babies, and where we lived as a child was the greatest childhood experience we could have had.  It is turning those biases into prejudices where we fall short.  If we use our bias that our child was the most beautiful baby to bash other people's babies, then our bias becomes a prejudice.  I have curly hair, am a Republican, and was home schooled; two of those things I rarely share with others for fear of being looked down upon or criticized.  However, I am also prejudiced against home schoolers--for the most part I assume home schoolers are under-socialized, poor communicators, wear weird clothes, are a bit on the odd side, and have too large of families.  I'm also prejudiced against most Republicans, because it seems to me they pick one thing to vote on or get up on their soap box about, and then ignore everything else.  On the flip side, staunch Democrats annoy me because they have literally gotten up in my face, and yelled at my "poor" decision making when it comes to the present decisions of the U.S. President I elected four years ago. (Maybe I should change to being an Independent.)  However I struggle against these prejudices because I know that they are not positive aspects of my life; they do no allow me to interact with more people in a positive way, have meaningful conversations, share common interests, or see from another point of view without altering my own beliefs.  The question I'd like to put forth to you is this: are you willing to admit that your every day, or possibly even deep seeded prejudices are real, and will you struggle against them?  I will always have prejudices, new ones that pop up with new experiences, but I pray that I will always struggle against them, to put old prejudices behind me, and push with love towards the new ones I will encounter.

A couple of years ago, and a couple of weeks forward in March, I wrote a blog about how I felt returning from South Africa after working in the orphanage.  I was reminded of that post, called Eustace, today when I was reading in "Forgotten God" by Francis Chan, about how the Spirit works in us.  Chan talks about how it is often a painful process of transformation that we must go through before we become what He wants us to be.  I am also reminded of what I wrote today because of the ministry we were able to interact with in Mexico on our vacation, and the many things I've been reading, and God has been teaching me in the last few weeks.  I feel a yearning to be a soldier for Him, to war against myself, putting my ego, self-esteem, personality traits, useless hungerings at His feet--laying myself down to become nothing of myself and more of Him.  The couple we met in Mexico, Gena and Andrew, run a coffee shop called El Buho (the owl) in a little town called Hidalgo (yes, like the horse movie).  They are missionaries there, the same age as Dave and I, and have just had their first son six months ago.  Their coffee shop ministers mainly to the international climbing scene (as that's why people go to Hidalgo if their not from there), and the money is used to help build Christian schools in the area.  They work in a local church with the youth group as well, plus Gena teaches at the Christian middle school, and they are helping to try and build a local library too!  They inspire me--sparking a hunger Christ has been building in me for some time now--a hunger to step OUT of my comfort zones, to be used greatly and deeply by Him.  I know that the purpose of this hunger is not to make me discontent with my surroundings, but to push me to greater sacrifice of who I am, and what I want with my life, and what exactly that means.  I want to know God's will, regardless of where or to whom it takes me.  Pray that I do exactly that--and stay open to His leadings.

This week is an exciting week.  Today, Dave and I go to a new parent's meeting at the doctor's office.  Hoping we get to meet some other new parents, and find out what their experiences have been, and what prenatal classes they plan on taking.  Tomorrow I get to see Wicked, the musical, for the first time!!! I'm super excited about that!  Dave bought me tickets for Christmas, and we're going to make a big date night out of it.  I'm dressing up, since I rarely get to do that, and we're going out to eat Thai food before that (I've been craving it lately).  We've also been looking at baby changing tables/drawer combos.  Here's a  changing table we really like from craige's list in Burbank.  If it works out we're hoping to stop by and take a look at it tomorrow night. Sunday I leave for the Oak's Women's Retreat, down in Ventura at the beach house owned by ministry.  I've been asked to lead a Bible study session, which I'm pretty nervous about, but again, excited.  Also, Venture is right on the beach, so I'm hoping it's warm enough to at least sit on the beach for a bit and relax.  And the city has GREAT thrift stores, so definitely want to check out those with some of the ladies from here that know the place really well.  Anyway--that's about it!  Just wanted to fill you in on some excitement in my life.  

This last Monday, January 10th, something happened I had been waiting for for a long time--I got to hear a heartbeat.  Ever since last July, when the time came and went when we should have been able to hear our little Grace's heartbeat, I have ached to hear that sound coming from my own belly.  Every doctor's appointment at the OB, I would hear that sound emanating from other patient's rooms, and I would wonder if that time would come for me.  Even after we were able to conceive again, with the complications we had over these last few months, I never fully allowed myself to believe that we would be allowed to hear it.  I've often spoken of how I felt about my miscarriage as a loss of innocence; like the first time a child realizes his parents aren't immortal, all-protecting beings.  I lost the ability to hope, and am still struggling to get it back.  I read a blog recently, passed on to me by a friend, that spoke of this feeling with complete clarity by another mom who has had the same experience.  After hearing that heartbeat, I cried tears of relief and joy into Dave's arms.  And yet, I don't feel pregnant.  I know that sounds weird, and I see this bump growing on my belly, and I talk about it with friends, but I don't know how to feel!  I'm not sad or depressed, but I just haven't connected with this little one.  I've read books that say this is normal, but I don't want it to be normal; I want to be uncontrollably happy for this baby growing inside me, for the future of our family, for this hope.  I mourn the loss of this innocence, but don't we all?  There are points in our lives when we lose something so dear to us, and we come to a crossroads we don't know how to continue through.  And it is at those times, if we allow him to, that God comes and leads us through it.  I pray I will start actively getting know this little one inside me; talking to it more, and worrying about it less, but for right now, I'm content to know that God is doing that for me.  He is guiding my heart, and the baby's heart, and he will connect them when mine is ready.  I do look forward to that day we will meet him or her, and I know, if not before, I will then be forever bonded to this little heartbeat within me.

                                                              Sunbathing on the beach

                                                       walking Santa Monica Blvd

                                                                beautiful sunset
                                                          Birthday cheesecake (Sylvia's lemon
                                                    cheesecake recipe turned out great!)

As my Christmas tree still twinkles in the background, it feels like any other day in the last weeks of 2011, except it's not.  Today is January 3rd, it's 65 and sunny here in Cali, and I should probably go check on my neighbor's flowers that I'm supposed to be watering...and get her mail too (I should have mentioned to her I have a black thumb when it comes to plants; I'm just hoping they'll all LOOK like they are still alive until a few days after she returns...that being tomorrow).

Yesterday was Dave's birthday.  We went to his favorite bouldering place, Stoney Point, just outside of Simi Valley, and then on to Santa Monica beach--somewhere he hadn't been yet, but is a new favorite of mine.  We sat on the beach, people watched, strolled through the shopping district, and watched a magnificent sunrise....and not once did I think, "I should have been a Mom by now."  God is so merciful, gracious, good, and kind is He not?  He allows us to mourn deeply, but also to have joy in the beautiful moments of our lives.

This year has been such a fantastic year for learning, growing, loving, and overcoming.  A job that Dave was very passionate about, with colleagues and kids he grew to love dearly, ceased to exist, while another one grew up in its place.  I finished my first year of teaching, and realized, though I still maintain middle schoolers are an alien race, that they have such amazing personalities, ambitions, courage, and ofttimes hurt and anger, but that they gave me quite a bit of joy.  We found out we were expecting our first child, and were extremely delighted, frightened, and excited for the next part of our adventures to begin...and begin they did.

In May Dave moved out to California, and started his new job as the Adventure Director for The Oaks Camp and Conference Center, while I finished up my school year teaching.  He trained his new staff, I figured out we owned a lot of stuff we never used, and possibly never have.

On June 27th, my older sister, Shannon, and my younger sister, Bethany, and I, set out on an across the country road trip to my new home.  We packed my little Fit to the brim, donned our sunglasses, and headed for Memphis!  The bbq was divine, and the Elvis statue was closer than we thought, though the creepy guy that managed the camp ground gave is the heebie-jeebies.  The next day we got up, and drove through a deluge in Arkansas, where we saw no less than 6 airplane wings on the back of semis (do they make them there?), and finally arrived in Hot Springs, AK, at a famous bathing house, to get hot springs baths and massages.  It was my birthday, and the day I started bleeding.  I didn't tell them until half-way through lunch, and we decided to go to the hospital.  That's where I learned Bethany can be fiercely protective, especially with mean nurses, and Shannon will take control when you can't bare the thought of trying to think.  And that four sister's arms to hold you up when the world comes crashing down, when no heartbeat appears, when tears turn to crushing sobs, are exactly what you need.

The next morning my sisters asked me if I wanted to drive straight to California, and I said no, I wanted that time with them, and the memories of that road trip, and I'm so glad I did!  That road trip from North Carolina, to Tennessee, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, and finally California, changed my life.  We saw the Cadillac Ranch in Texas, the amazing canyon and star strewn New Mexico, the beautiful Grand Canyon in Arizona, and the massive Hoover Dam in Nevada.
 I learned that Bethany can sleep anywhere, Shannon gets up much earlier than I prefer, and no one likes my music.  I also learned it is quite easy to get lost with three people that have no sense of direction, even though we had a perfectly good GPS, and a road map, that Texas is WAAAY too hot for me, that jumping into a freezing cold lake with your two sisters while  onlooking fishermen laugh at you in the middle of New Mexico is quite invigorating, that Shannon will never be by my side as I look over the canyon edge, or I will be carrying her for the rest of the day, that the Hoover Dam is in fact in Nevada (though we didn't even know till that afternoon we were driving over it), that Vegas isn't that great--but the Belagio fountain is pretty cool, and that the tattoo artist we used in California is much better with tattoos than he looks--which is good, cause they're permanent.  Overall, I learned my sisters are my biggest allies, my husband is the strongest man that I will ever hold in my arms, and my God is enough, no matter what.

When I got here, an amazing group of new friends appeared out of the woodwork.  I found a new movie buddy (he laughs at all the hilarious parts and Dave just rolls his eyes at us--it works out).  Four amazing women befriended me (I still remember sitting in Olive Garden and thinking how awesome it was to live right beside them, and know they would keep me in their hearts).  Silly summer staff invited us into their fun adventures, and one even let Dave shave his head--good thing too, as using a regular razor on his head was not looking promising.  Families invited us into their lives--Mike always laughs at my short jokes, and follows them up with some of his own.  And friends back in North Carolina sent us tons of messages--letting us know we were loved no matter where we were.

As my parents moved to Papua New Guinea to start their missions work, my family drew closer together; calling, texting, and sending funny cards to let each other know, even though Mom and Dad were not around, that our family was important, and would always be there.  Mom and Dad found out they were stronger than they ever knew, and they could build relationships even when language was a barrier.  And we found out distance was no measure of love or relationship.

This year was a growing year----and I hope I'll grow twice as much this year, and in the years to come.