16 July 2014

Umm, oops. . .

Sorry for the radio silence. In the past two months, I've decided to make a career change, started and finished a college class, gone to Colorado with my parents and Ezra, gone to Crystal Beach with Stephen's family, and organized (and prodded and kept Ezra out of the way) the addition of a dishwasher into our home (which didn't have a dishwasher before, making it quite the job). All of this while Stephen has gone out of town to raise support at least ten times.

I have also been CRAZY nesting. Pushing my body to its limit moving stuff and cleaning and organizing and finally having an epiphany about it. I am trying to make myself feel ready to have a newborn and a rambunctious three-and-a-half-year-old at the same time. The transition to motherhood was very difficult, and only in the past nine months have I really been working through the issues that surfaced after E was born. They generally revolve around me feeling wholly incompetent to parent, so having another kiddo is. . . scary. We'll leave it at that.

On top of that, we should receive the referral of a child we are considering adopting any day now (though it's been "any day" for a week and a half already). So much change and upheaval and uncertainty; no wonder I'm trying to control the one place that I can.

That being said, I'm off to the baby room, to throw more things away and make more space (for a person who won't measure two feet long. Hormones are crazy pills).

29 April 2014

Parenting Insight.

I got it this morning: why staying at home is really hard for me, especially right now. You see, of the five love languages (words of affirmation, quality time, physical touch & closeness, acts of service, and gifts), acts of service is the one I speak least. Like I do not speak it at all. [so if you do something to serve me but don't cue me in that you're doing it out of love, I'll probably thank you but won't feel loved by it.]

But acts of service is all I do for this kid, you know? And man, it's awesome when he says thank you, but it is horrible when he can't even be happy about it. Not just not acknowledge it, but seems to look for something to be unhappy about it. YOU SUCK ALL MY ENERGY, CHILD. Not just because you're rambunctious (I pretty much like that, except when you hurt me), but because you require me to constantly go against my personality with almost nothing in return.

To top that off, gifts is my #1 (luckily I speak other ones, or my marriage would be a shambles; Stephen is not a natural-born-gift-giver). And a 3-year-old is not really capable of thinking of something I like and then giving it to me.

And on top of all that, I'm very fun-oriented. I'm not a particularly driven person, not a high achiever (it seems exhausting, honestly). And it seems like this 3-year-old is intent on finding ways to not have fun. He asks me to stop the water in his bath, and when I do, he falls apart that I stopped the water. What am I supposed to do with that? YOU LOVE BATH TIME. HAVE A GOOD TIME. WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU. You need to stop spitting/screaming or you'll have to get out of the bath.

So whew this stage is particularly hard. I am glad I had that insight this morning; it doesn't change my situation, but still, more awareness can help me manage my own behavior when my son clearly is having trouble managing his.

23 April 2014

We went to Collegiate's annual staff conference last week, and it's a time I love because there are women there who have been working in college ministry (or participating as their husbands work, or both) for a long time. They've raised children within our church network, but the kids aren't with them (and E wasn't with me), so we can really sit and talk.

Something that was said has been going around and around in my head:

You don't have to be mentally healthy to glorify God.

And those are words that nourish my heart. My body chemistry right now is really messing with the way I normally function. I'm very hope-driven and fun-oriented. Those things can take a hit with more-than-full-time parenting and pregnancy without adding medicine that further reduces my capacity for hope and for fun. I don't feel like me.

But I don't have to be healthy to glorify God. I don't have to be stable or strong or not cry about nothing.

It's given me a way to reroute this experience through a different lens from my norm. It helps me remember that I don't have to participate in these feelings. I can experience them, but I can do it with the recognition that my body chemistry is influencing how I perceive my life.

It's helped me remember that, for emotional people, we can sometimes only see life through our emotional experience, and that's not healthy. It's not good to ignore or suppress them, but they shouldn't be our guide. We need to take captive our emotions and bring them to Jesus, just as we are our thoughts.

So yeah, everything feels bad and I'm having a hard time enjoying life, but that doesn't mean I can't experience this season in a way that gladdens the heart of the One who made me (and this placenta that is TOTALLY FALLING DOWN ON THE JOB). And He knows why this is happening and when it will stop and just how it feels. And I am comforted.

01 April 2014

Adoption Update

Well, it's April. It seems the decision about this little person has been made for us by the fact that the orphanage still haven't made the referral, added to the fact that the courts have been making the court dates farther out (sometimes over 2 months from receiving our dossier). Combine both of those with my (albeit slight) pregnancy complication, and it means we would be utterly unreasonable to continue to consider accepting the referral once it (finally) comes. Stephen would probably have to stay in Uganda while I had baby Q (no, his name won't start with Q. Q is short for "Quoi?!?"]

Am I sad? Yes. Poor Stephen found me crying in the shower about it yesterday. [I wish I could give him warning about when I'm going to cry. I think it would help him to feel less alarmed.] This adoption has been so hard for a long time. But I do feel the peace of knowing that I will look back and know that God's hand was on us in this time, by not even giving us the opportunity to have to make a decision about the referral. To have the option and still have to say "no" would have been much harder.

If you would take a moment and pray for this child, that God would swiftly lead Generations to his/her adoptive parents, I'd be grateful.

29 March 2014

The Downs of Pregnancy (Meds)

[TL:DR at bottom.] I didn't share this publicly before, but a few weeks after we found out we were pregnant, I had to go to the doctor because of spotting and cramping. It turned out my progesterone was low - probably because I ovulated so early, my doc surmised.

The typical schedule is to take them for the first trimester, then wean your body off them gradually around 16 weeks. I noticed, about that time, some strange symptoms not normal to me for pregnancy: I lost my hunger cues (I could go for 6 or more hours without eating, feeling hungry, getting nauseated, or any of my normal cues), and I started wanting to cry about nothing. Now, I'm an easy crier, but I always cry for a reason (good or bad). It's not normal for me to feel like I'm about to cry all day for no reason.

After doing some research, it turns out excess progesterone can do that - if our bodies make too much, they can break it down and turn it into other hormones, but our bodies can't do it with synthetic. Realizing that was actually happy for me, since it meant (so I thought) that my body had started making enough, and the meds were putting me over the top.

Early this week, I started having a TON of Braxton-Hicks (BH) contractions. I knew they weren't labor contractions, but going from having one every so often (like when I go from standing to squatting), to every few minutes no matter how much I drank or slept, in the matter of two days, was a little concerning. Or could have been, I don't know. That's what doctors are for, amiright?

So I had an appointment that confirmed, no, the contractions aren't premature labor, but that my progesterone was low again. She prescribed half the previous dose and to come in again in 4 weeks to check my levels.

This all sounds pretty mundane and not worth writing about, but I'm really sad. Being chemically depressed is the opposite of my personality (which probably just means I enjoy being a little volatile), and I don't want to experience it more. And I certainly don't want to for the next few months, since I doubt this placenta is going to get the memo now if it hasn't already (that's an emotional guess, not based in any facts). I don't want to not enjoy things and forget to take care of myself. And I don't want my chemicals being messed up because it affects this little guy too; too-low progesterone and it can trigger labor, and the changes in hormones involved with depression during pregnancy also have proven effects on babies.

We'll see how the next few weeks go. The TL:DR is I'm not both sad and whiny.