As Caleb's due date creeps closer and closer, (and closer,) I find myself becoming more and more scared of the day that he makes his first appearance. Don't get me wrong, I'm looking forward to it, and it will be a day of joy and celebration for Bubba and I, along with our friends and families, but there is also this part of me that says, "How will I ever be a parent?"
It's a funny thing. When girls are little, even 2-3 years old, they enjoy taking care of baby dolls, especially when they see their mommies taking care of babies. It cools down for a while, but somewhere around 13-14 they begin again to start noticing babies and wanting to take care of them. That instinct grows stronger and stronger as the years go by until hopefully they are married, and BOOM! Full blown baby-fever strikes.
Now, I realize that this is not how it happens for every single girl, but it is a scientifically proven fact that almost universally, women feel the desire to have a baby at some point in their lives, usually around the ages of 18-30.
I was reading about this in Glamour magazine the other day, (thank goodness my subscription expired. Stupid magazine,) and it was addressing this fact, and how it is affecting the mindset of young American women who have careers and such. When are you ready? What do you do about your career? Why does this happen? I think that they came to the conclusion that it had something to do with evolution and the desire to prosper the human race, or something along those lines.
However, this my firm belief as to why that thing snaps in a woman's brain.
Genesis 1:27-28
God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. God blessed them; and God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it."
Tada! There's your baby-fever right there. God put it in there, and it's been driving women crazy (no, literally crazy. As in doing crazy things in order to have children,) ever since. Even the most career minded of women have a moment where they realize that, "Holy toledo! My eggs are going bad! I need to find myself a man, and FAST!" And so movies like Tina Fey's 'Baby Mama' are born. And thank goodness, because that movie is hilarious.
What confuses me about this whole process is the fact that in the midst of all of this craving for babies, why does the thought never occur to us women, "Parenthood is the most daunting challenge ever introduced to the human race. RUN!!!" And even if it does, we just brush the thought aside and continue the painful longing for a baby at our bosom and dreaming of nursery themes and adorable baby outfits!
So one day we pee on a stick and run in to our husbands with tears and hugs and kisses and say, "I'm going to be a mommy!" and then a week or a month later we wake up in cold sweats, pulse through the roof and say, "I'M GOING TO BE A MOMMY!!!"
Okay, so the first part of that isn't exactly how it went for me, but the second part is pretty spot on. I find myself waking up with my heart pounding out of my chest quite frequently. The cause has gone from the thought, There is a baby inside of me, and eventually it will have to come out. Very unpleasantly, to recently, What will Bubba and I ever do with a teenage boy of our own? I mean, we practice on other people's children all the time. But does it make me a bad youth minister's wife to say that I'm not at all confident to raise my own kid?
Parents of our students come to us about their children with stories. "My teenager snuck out of their window last night and hasn't come home yet." "My teenager who has always done well in school is now failing out of 2 classes." "My teenager just has no respect for me and wants to live with my ex. What do I do?"
Since we were engaged, Bubba and I have been watching situations like these and saying to each other, "What if our kid goes through that? How would we handle it?" But at that point it was really more like a fun little game, akin to 'Would You Rather?' or something like that. But now I find myself looking at Bubba and going, "No, really. What are we going to do if this happens?"
The things I worry about now are things like, When is the right time to let our kid have a cell phone? What kind of plan do we get him? The internet. Can we just get rid of it? How do we handle the 'allowance' situation?I do realize that the teenage years are a ways off yet, but this is stuff that really is concerning to me.
But in the end, I know that God is faithful, and that He is really in charge of handling most stuff.
Proverbs 22:6
Train up a child in the way he should go,
Even when he is old he will not depart from it.
Do your thing, God!
Friday, January 13, 2012
Our Little Creature
It's a boy, and his name will be Caleb Michael. We take names pretty seriously, and biblical names are kind of tradition in my family. (Between first and middle names, it's getting a little difficult not to repeat, by the way! There are plenty of names in the Bible, but really, who is going to name their kid Jehoiachin or Uz or Buz? We also want our kid not to have to endure merciless teasing at the hands of schoolmates...)
We love the integrity of Caleb in Numbers 13 and throughout his life. The fact that he and Joshua stood up in the face of peer pressure with faith that God would do what He promised, despite the grim outlook of the rest of the troops is something that we hope our son aspires to. We pray that he has the same kind of stubborn, reckless faith.
Michael is Bubba's first name, and it means 'Who is like God?'
Despite what a couple of students and former students may have thought when we announced the name, no. He is not named after any of you. No offense. We love you, but no. We have had those names chosen for years now, long before we met you.
Here is the best picture, in my opinion. Here is our Caleb, looking 'tender and mild', a picture of tranquility and innocence.
Aaaand then there's this one.
Now I realize that this might make me sound like the meanest mom ever, but I think that this picture of our little guy is absolutely terrifying. He weighed about 12 oz. at this point, and he really didn't have whole lot of meat on his li'l bones. This was the second round of photos, and for him, the show was over. He was scared (to the point that I almost asked the technician to stop...) and was hiding his little face and retreating as far back into me as he possibly could, while trying to cover his poor little ears. It really was the saddest thing. So this picture was taken in the midst of all of that. It is my honest opinion that he bears a strong resemblance to the creature Gollum. Tell me you don't see it. I dare you.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Quickening
Tomorrow I will be 19 weeks pregnant.
Even in a short 19 weeks, pregnancy has had plenty of ups and downs.
Pro: No one judges me for how much food is on my plate. Ever. In fact, I could probably get away with eating sticks of butter at the moment. (No, I do not crave butter.) In fact, most people actually encourage heaping portions of any and everything on my plate. Never mind that my diet is only supposed to increase by a scant 100-150 calories compared to my pre-pregnancy diet. But hey, it's always a relief to know that should I want a second piece of lasagna, no one will blame me or complain that I got more than my share.
Con: While everyone has been encouraging me to "Eat for two..." since I was 5 weeks, there was a good 7+ weeks in there where eating for 1/2 was a challenge, and keeping it in my body even more so. I will spare you the gritty details.
Pro: Pregnancy is the best motivation in the world to be nicer to your body. (Eat better things, take supplements, lift things that aren't quite so heavy, for which my joints are certainly grateful.)
Con: Motivation is actually a nice word. Non-negotiable demands may be more accurate at times, usually regarding when I eat, urinate, and beginning to be how I sit, etc.
Pro: The beautiful knowledge that life is being cultivated within my womb.
Con: The moments where I wake with heart pounding and palms sweating with the jolting realization that there is a baby in there, and one way or another, it has to come out.
So yes. Lots of pros and cons. You can read my earlier post about pregnancy and easily see that I hated being pregnant at that point. I no longer hate it, and am actually enjoying it now, but my frustration has been that other than the weird way I felt, the swelling of my belly (which I see as a major deal, but most people see as very slight,) and the fact that we can hear a tiny, fast little heartbeat on the Doppler at appointments with my midwives, I didn't feel like things were changing, namely because I couldn't feel the little nugget moving.
When I reached 15 or 16 weeks the questions started coming. "Have you felt the baby move?" To which my blank, sad stare would communicate that no, I haven't. What exactly am I supposed to be "feeling" for? If you want women to get really weird really quick, get them to start talking about fetal movement. I'm serious. Women will tell you all kinds of things.
"It starts as just little flutterings, like a butterfly in your stomach."
"It feels like someone is tickling you! Just like this." *proceeds to give my belly a little tickle.* Teehee!
"It feels like an air bubble. Almost like you just drank a Dr. Pepper and some carbonation is just being weird in your stomach."
"It feels like gas."
And my personal favorite, coming from my friend Kara who is currently in the hospital on bed rest, pregnant with twins, "When it feels like a goldfish is swimming around in there, you know it's the baby!" Turns out, this has been the most accurate, but I get ahead of myself. (To learn about Kara's miraculous journey so far with her twins, here is a link to her blog.)
3 weeks may seem like a short amount of time, but when you spend every day waiting for something, it feels like an eternity. We all know how long 3-5 business days are when we are waiting for UPS to drop off that new book/gadget that we ordered. Just imagine that, but longer. Every day I would lay down and concentrate and will myself to feel that baby. Sometimes I would think, *gasp* Maybe that was it! But for all I know, I ate too much spicy food at dinner. (They said it feels like gas. Maybe what they felt actually was gas.)
I watched bitterly and cynically as I unfortunately sat through Twilight: Breaking Dawn and, (SPOILER ALERT!!!) it depicted Bella feeling her baby moving after a short 14 days post-conception. For those of you playing at home... In the real world, you know, planet Earth where real women are delivering real babies, 2 weeks post-conception the baby hasn't even earned the name of 'fetus' yet. It is still simply referred to as an 'embryo'. It will be 2-3 weeks before it even begins developing arms and legs and is incapable of moving. Disclaimer: No, I haven't read the Twilight books, and am not sure that I will ever be able to stomach reading them. I do realize that Bella's pregnancy is not "normal." But come on. 2 weeks? Give me a freakin' break. As we watched the movie I rolled my eyes and probably talked constantly to my husband about how stupid this was. I was mad because Bella could feel her baby moving, and I couldn't. Lame, I know. Pregnancy does stupid things to you. (Pro: You can blame ANYTHING on pregnancy and get away with it. Forgetfulness, mood swings, cravings, tears... anything.)
So now you are caught up to the completion of my 17th week. At my prenatal appointment my midwife recommended that I try laying down immediately after dinner to feel the baby, as that is the time when they seem to be the most active. (Sugar rush? Who knows.) I tried this and kept gasping and saying, "I think I might have felt it!" My husband was skeptical. He was certain that I only thought I could feel it because Kelly, my midwife, had told me I might be able to. (He is convinced that I am a hypochondriac and that any time a medical professional tells me something, I believe it. He thinks that if I am ever concerned that I may be getting sick, I am then certain to get sick, because I psyched myself into it. This is not true. The reason I always get sick when I say I think I'm getting sick is because I don't want to admit in the beginning that I may be getting sick, then by the time I admit it, I'm already sick. You are welcome for that unnecessary peek into our marital disputes.) He may have been right. I don't know if that was the baby moving or not. If it felt like gas, then who could know what was gas and what was fetal movement? Certainly not me. (The only reason I am admitting to gas is because I'm pregnant. It's the baby's fault. Please see the above pro.)
A couple of days ago, after I had eaten a late night snack, I was sitting at the computer bumming around on Facebook and I felt it. And I was certain. Somebody was kicking me in there. And not just kicking. The whole goldfish thing was pretty spot on. Ever put your foot in water and waited with incessant giggling for minnows to nibble your toes? It's okay, men. You don't have to admit that you were giggling. (But we all know it's true...) That's how I felt. It was a strange, strange feeling. But it was a relief to have confirmation other than hearing the heartbeat once a month that there really is something going on in there to justify all of these crazy symptoms.
My husband told me as he was pressing his hand on my stomach, "It's not fair that you can feel the baby and I can't." Well, there are a lot of things about this pregnancy that aren't fair, let me tell you. But we won't get into that. He tries to use my belly button like a microphone or a walkie-talkie to the baby. "This is your father..." Star Wars style. But all to no avail. I thought it would probably be a while before you could feel anything at all from the outside.
This morning as I laid in bed putting off getting up, (it's the weekend!) my stomach was kind of hurting. This is a common occurrence, really, because I'm convinced that overnight is when my organs decide to shift. They are all looking for room in there and decide that an all-nighter of abdominal organ tetrus is a good idea. So sometimes my abdomen (the place where a good deal of my digestive and internal reproductive equipment hang out) doesn't feel the best first thing in the morning. Oh well. Not that big of a deal. I sat there with my hand on my stomach, and was incredibly surprised when I felt something move. If that was gas, I would really be in trouble. Yikes. I grabbed my husband's hand (who was currently dead to the world,) and pressed it down on my stomach where I'd had mine. When I had woken him up enough, he too could feel somebody doing somersaults in there. "Did you feel that?" I asked him? "There's a baby in there!" he said, and shortly thereafter proceeded to roll back over and go back to sleep.
I am not the sappy type. I'm not good at sentimental garbage. I only cry in movies, where people have made it their life's work to figure out what emotional strings to pull at in order to eek a few tears out of women. I did not cry when I found out I was pregnant, or when I heard our baby's heartbeat for the first time. I kind of live in the camp that says, "The concept is cool, but hearing fuzzy whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sounds on the Doppler just doesn't bring me to tears." Does that make me a bad mom? I don't know. But getting to see my husband feel his baby for the first time this morning was the closest I've come to crying. I'll have to hold it together for months now, as I will be the first witness to daddy-baby bonding time.
Here goes nothing.
Even in a short 19 weeks, pregnancy has had plenty of ups and downs.
Pro: No one judges me for how much food is on my plate. Ever. In fact, I could probably get away with eating sticks of butter at the moment. (No, I do not crave butter.) In fact, most people actually encourage heaping portions of any and everything on my plate. Never mind that my diet is only supposed to increase by a scant 100-150 calories compared to my pre-pregnancy diet. But hey, it's always a relief to know that should I want a second piece of lasagna, no one will blame me or complain that I got more than my share.
Con: While everyone has been encouraging me to "Eat for two..." since I was 5 weeks, there was a good 7+ weeks in there where eating for 1/2 was a challenge, and keeping it in my body even more so. I will spare you the gritty details.
Pro: Pregnancy is the best motivation in the world to be nicer to your body. (Eat better things, take supplements, lift things that aren't quite so heavy, for which my joints are certainly grateful.)
Con: Motivation is actually a nice word. Non-negotiable demands may be more accurate at times, usually regarding when I eat, urinate, and beginning to be how I sit, etc.
Pro: The beautiful knowledge that life is being cultivated within my womb.
Con: The moments where I wake with heart pounding and palms sweating with the jolting realization that there is a baby in there, and one way or another, it has to come out.
So yes. Lots of pros and cons. You can read my earlier post about pregnancy and easily see that I hated being pregnant at that point. I no longer hate it, and am actually enjoying it now, but my frustration has been that other than the weird way I felt, the swelling of my belly (which I see as a major deal, but most people see as very slight,) and the fact that we can hear a tiny, fast little heartbeat on the Doppler at appointments with my midwives, I didn't feel like things were changing, namely because I couldn't feel the little nugget moving.
When I reached 15 or 16 weeks the questions started coming. "Have you felt the baby move?" To which my blank, sad stare would communicate that no, I haven't. What exactly am I supposed to be "feeling" for? If you want women to get really weird really quick, get them to start talking about fetal movement. I'm serious. Women will tell you all kinds of things.
"It starts as just little flutterings, like a butterfly in your stomach."
"It feels like someone is tickling you! Just like this." *proceeds to give my belly a little tickle.* Teehee!
"It feels like an air bubble. Almost like you just drank a Dr. Pepper and some carbonation is just being weird in your stomach."
"It feels like gas."
And my personal favorite, coming from my friend Kara who is currently in the hospital on bed rest, pregnant with twins, "When it feels like a goldfish is swimming around in there, you know it's the baby!" Turns out, this has been the most accurate, but I get ahead of myself. (To learn about Kara's miraculous journey so far with her twins, here is a link to her blog.)
3 weeks may seem like a short amount of time, but when you spend every day waiting for something, it feels like an eternity. We all know how long 3-5 business days are when we are waiting for UPS to drop off that new book/gadget that we ordered. Just imagine that, but longer. Every day I would lay down and concentrate and will myself to feel that baby. Sometimes I would think, *gasp* Maybe that was it! But for all I know, I ate too much spicy food at dinner. (They said it feels like gas. Maybe what they felt actually was gas.)
I watched bitterly and cynically as I unfortunately sat through Twilight: Breaking Dawn and, (SPOILER ALERT!!!) it depicted Bella feeling her baby moving after a short 14 days post-conception. For those of you playing at home... In the real world, you know, planet Earth where real women are delivering real babies, 2 weeks post-conception the baby hasn't even earned the name of 'fetus' yet. It is still simply referred to as an 'embryo'. It will be 2-3 weeks before it even begins developing arms and legs and is incapable of moving. Disclaimer: No, I haven't read the Twilight books, and am not sure that I will ever be able to stomach reading them. I do realize that Bella's pregnancy is not "normal." But come on. 2 weeks? Give me a freakin' break. As we watched the movie I rolled my eyes and probably talked constantly to my husband about how stupid this was. I was mad because Bella could feel her baby moving, and I couldn't. Lame, I know. Pregnancy does stupid things to you. (Pro: You can blame ANYTHING on pregnancy and get away with it. Forgetfulness, mood swings, cravings, tears... anything.)
So now you are caught up to the completion of my 17th week. At my prenatal appointment my midwife recommended that I try laying down immediately after dinner to feel the baby, as that is the time when they seem to be the most active. (Sugar rush? Who knows.) I tried this and kept gasping and saying, "I think I might have felt it!" My husband was skeptical. He was certain that I only thought I could feel it because Kelly, my midwife, had told me I might be able to. (He is convinced that I am a hypochondriac and that any time a medical professional tells me something, I believe it. He thinks that if I am ever concerned that I may be getting sick, I am then certain to get sick, because I psyched myself into it. This is not true. The reason I always get sick when I say I think I'm getting sick is because I don't want to admit in the beginning that I may be getting sick, then by the time I admit it, I'm already sick. You are welcome for that unnecessary peek into our marital disputes.) He may have been right. I don't know if that was the baby moving or not. If it felt like gas, then who could know what was gas and what was fetal movement? Certainly not me. (The only reason I am admitting to gas is because I'm pregnant. It's the baby's fault. Please see the above pro.)
A couple of days ago, after I had eaten a late night snack, I was sitting at the computer bumming around on Facebook and I felt it. And I was certain. Somebody was kicking me in there. And not just kicking. The whole goldfish thing was pretty spot on. Ever put your foot in water and waited with incessant giggling for minnows to nibble your toes? It's okay, men. You don't have to admit that you were giggling. (But we all know it's true...) That's how I felt. It was a strange, strange feeling. But it was a relief to have confirmation other than hearing the heartbeat once a month that there really is something going on in there to justify all of these crazy symptoms.
My husband told me as he was pressing his hand on my stomach, "It's not fair that you can feel the baby and I can't." Well, there are a lot of things about this pregnancy that aren't fair, let me tell you. But we won't get into that. He tries to use my belly button like a microphone or a walkie-talkie to the baby. "This is your father..." Star Wars style. But all to no avail. I thought it would probably be a while before you could feel anything at all from the outside.
This morning as I laid in bed putting off getting up, (it's the weekend!) my stomach was kind of hurting. This is a common occurrence, really, because I'm convinced that overnight is when my organs decide to shift. They are all looking for room in there and decide that an all-nighter of abdominal organ tetrus is a good idea. So sometimes my abdomen (the place where a good deal of my digestive and internal reproductive equipment hang out) doesn't feel the best first thing in the morning. Oh well. Not that big of a deal. I sat there with my hand on my stomach, and was incredibly surprised when I felt something move. If that was gas, I would really be in trouble. Yikes. I grabbed my husband's hand (who was currently dead to the world,) and pressed it down on my stomach where I'd had mine. When I had woken him up enough, he too could feel somebody doing somersaults in there. "Did you feel that?" I asked him? "There's a baby in there!" he said, and shortly thereafter proceeded to roll back over and go back to sleep.
I am not the sappy type. I'm not good at sentimental garbage. I only cry in movies, where people have made it their life's work to figure out what emotional strings to pull at in order to eek a few tears out of women. I did not cry when I found out I was pregnant, or when I heard our baby's heartbeat for the first time. I kind of live in the camp that says, "The concept is cool, but hearing fuzzy whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sounds on the Doppler just doesn't bring me to tears." Does that make me a bad mom? I don't know. But getting to see my husband feel his baby for the first time this morning was the closest I've come to crying. I'll have to hold it together for months now, as I will be the first witness to daddy-baby bonding time.
Here goes nothing.
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