Isaiah James

My rotten little monkey!!!

He has gotten to the stage where it is impossible to get him with a normal smile in a picture without him blurring across the scene, forever in motion. Though this one says quite a bit about his crazy personality....

He is a funny little man, always laughing & eliciting laughs from everyone around. He eats with a passion, hence the dirty face. He rarely stands still. The key word there is STANDS. The kid barely takes the time to sit. He goes non-stop until he just drops in exhaustion. Almost every day, whether it's nap time or bedtime, I end up having to carry him from wherever he was playing & put him into bed. He truly believes that "RAWR" is dinosaur for "I love you" & uses it all the time. His other favorite saying is "I eat you now" then he proceeds to chow down on whatever body part he can reach at the time. "Ew gwoss" is both the cutest & most annoying saying of his. He is a tiny tornado everywhere he goes. He brings so much spirit & enthusiasm into our lives every day that it just amazes me.

I never thought I would want a son. When I found out I was pregnant, I immediately started imagining matching dresses & envisioning the CUTEST Holly Hobby room for Emma & the baby to share. When the ultrasound revealed a BOY, I have to admit, I cried. The entire night. I was sure that I wouldn't be a good mom to a boy & in fact dreaded getting peed on during every diaper change. He had no name. We had never been able to come up with one either of us even liked, let alone one we could both agree on. And boy clothes were just so......boring.

We named him the next day. I'm not even sure how we came up with the names in the first place but as soon as we heard the meanings put together (basically God gives excellent gifts at the perfect time), he was immediately named Isaiah James. We tried for him for 13 months & didn't conceive until we were on our last round of Chlomid. He was a miracle. And he came on God's time. It was perfect.

Fast forward a few months to March 1. I was induced early in the morning. He really wasn't interested in our plans. I laid around & talked with my mom, cousin, & sister-in-law most of the day. Michael took several naps, lol. One of my brother-in-laws even stopped by for a visit as did one of my sisters. It was a lot of waiting. We thought I would be done by noon but I hadn't really even gone into labor by then.

Eventually things got going. I was.....coloring when I felt that "feeling" through my epidural. Call the doctor in, he makes me laugh & there's the baby's head!!! My doctor (ever the jokster) actually said to me, "now just half a giggle this time!" & then there he was. That son of mine didn't even cry. He just wrinkled up his little face & let us take pictures. It is really no wonder that he is so happy & laughing all the time -- he was born into an environment full of laughter. EVERYONE was laughing. We were all so shocked at first & then it was just down right funny. He wasn't pushed, he was laughed out.

That was two years ago now. From the moment I first held him, I never would have traded him for a girl. He is 1000% boy but still sweet & loving. He is a perfect mixture. I really cannot even put into words what he means to me. Or how he has changed me. I am forever thankful that God knew what was best & chose to give it to me in the form of my little man, Isaiah James. And he has not peed on me. Not even once.

Preserving History

So, we had a whole facebook "sting" operation on one of my sisters tonight. As a joke, we (our family & tons of her friends) were making all kinds of comments about her being pregnant (which she is not). We were literally laughing so hard that our eyes had tears in them & our stomachs were hurting! It was a much needed reprieve from the stress lately.

I have to preserve this awful photo my husband made & posted, congratulating my sister & saying how beautiful she is 8 weeks pregnant. Every time that I need a laugh, I will come back to this post! I'm still laughing. Maybe you had to be there........

For Lent

Last night was Ash Wednesday. We attended the community service here on campus. It was led by the pastors, associate pastor, and SPM students from both Presbyterian churches in town and the pastors to students on campus. I enjoyed the service very much. Having been raised in a more Baptist tradition, I had not had much experience observing Ash Wednesday and Lent before being with Michael. This is the first year I decided to give something up....

I had decided what I thought I was going to give up earlier in the day. It was a big sacrifice to me but something that would bring me closer to Christ-likeness. However, while sitting in the service last night, something different was impressed upon my mind as the thing I should work on. I happen to think it was God's gentle whisper that this was more in line with what He wants from me. A verse even came to me to go along with it.

My "sacrifice" is intensely personal and I don't know that I will want to discuss it with anyone in real life. If my confidant scoffed at me or made some comment about how I have such a problem with that, it would be extremely detrimental to my success. So, I also decided that my blog will help me with accountability, lol.

Do not let any unwholesome talk

come out of your mouths, but only what is

helpful for building others up according to

their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.

~Ephesians 4:29~

I don't think that I go around saying malicious things about people just to tear them down. But on the flip side, I don't think I am very successful with making my words meet others' needs either. Or that the things that come out of my mouth "benefit" those who hear them. I enjoy making sarcastic comments and jokes. My temper often gets the best of me and I say things that I shouldn't. I argue. None of which is useful for building people up.

I have memorized my verse and plan to recite it to myself whenever the temptation arises to use my words for anything besides building others up. It's such a habit to mouth off in one way or another. I am rededicating myself to being in God's Word as well. Filling my mind with His words will draw me closer to Him and make it easier to say the right words out loud. I actually feel better about this course than the "sacrifice" I had planned. This feels like what God wants to see in my life and I am excited. I believe it will draw me closer to Him, my husband, my babies, and those around me. With His help, I can do this!

I've Been Distracted...

This ribbon is a warriors shield. It declares that we are praying for a cure. It is in remembrance of all those who walked this road before us. It is a visual reminder of our love and prompts us to pray without ceasing.

Soon, it will be a badge over the hearts of conquerors.

My mom has been diagnosed with Chronic Myeloid Leukemia. We live 6 hours from her, another sister lives 6 hours from her in another direction. We both wish we could be there right beside her. This disease is treatable and we will all fight, each in our own special ways. I pray we all come out of this closer and with a greater appreciation for each other.

Mama has her first appointment in about an hour. They called her on Friday with her diagnosis but gave her no other information. Today is the day that we will find out exactly what we are fighting and what our weapons are. Mama's a wreck (and I do believe all 5 of her kids may be as well). It's the moment of truth. When it most certainly will become more real. I pray the treatments don't make her really sick. Whatever it takes to stop this cancer.

CML is the opponent. God is in our corner. Who can stand against Him? NO ONE! It's time for a KO!

Sometimes God Shouts

I am a firm believer that God speaks to us. Whether we are listening or not, his voice is all around us. In a rainbow or a child's spontaneous affection. In books & songs. He can whisper, nudge, talk, and when He needs to, shout.

There have been several times that he has shouted at me. It isn't malicious or mean, He is just tired of my inattention. Or sometimes, maybe He is just that excited. Whatever it takes, He wants me to hear Him. Like each time that I have held my babies in my arms for the first time. SEE, I'M HERE & I LOVE YOU. Or when we visited the campus here to explore the call Michael & I felt in our hearts. YOU BELONG HERE BECAUSE I HAVE PLANS. Or when I found out that I was pregnant at a time that would make me six months along when we moved 500 miles to said campus & lost our insurance. MY PLANS ARE MIRACLES. YOU DON'T GET TO CONTROL EVERYTHING. DEPEND ON ME. Like now.

I am mentally stable enough to know when I'm crazy. Not certifiable, but off kilter, in a funk. And that is exactly where I have been the last few days, I mean weeks, wait -- this last month. Basically this whole year. And it's time for it to end.

The "shouting" started out with one of the other seminary wives reaching out to me. OTHERS FEEL THE SAME FEAR ABOUT THIS CALL. I read a book she recommended that was fantastic & uplifting called "You Can Still Wear Cute Shoes". THERE ARE OTHERS LIKE YOU, DON'T WORRY. The book recommended blogging. I started one up then explored some that the author recommended. I cannot even recount all the things that I was helped with on some of those blogs. Just seeing the every day-ness in these blogs from women walking the pastor's wife trail was encouraging. I AM WITH THEM ALL & I WILL BE WITH YOU. One blog in particular has struck a cord in my heart. She isn't famous, her house is sometimes messy & she can admit it, her kids smear their dinner on their faces, climb on her furniture, trash their rooms. She is P.E.R.F.E.C.T! Perfectly REAL. And I adore her blog. HERE IS AN EXAMPLE OF A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN THAT DOESN'T PLAY THE PIANO & ISN'T PERFECT AT EVERYTHING BY THE WORLD'S STANDARDS YET SHE IS GLORIFYING ME IN HER ROLE AS A PASTOR'S WIFE & MOTHER OF PASTOR'S KIDS. I CAN USE YOU TOO, IN ALL YOUR HUMANNESS, IF YOU WILL ONLY LET ME. If I still hadn't gotten His message, a Bible showed up in our mail the other day. Lol, I get the point.

I may not totally understand how this pastor's wife thing is going to go down or how my personality & shortcomings are going to fit into that role but I cannot keep doubting that God will make it work. He called us to this & he doesn't make mistakes. He has a plan.

Emma is 4!

My sweet baby girl is FOUR today!!! I cannot believe how fast time goes by. Here is what she loves:

Toy: Ariel

Movie: Cinderella

Song: Flower Gleam & Glow (from Tangled)

Game: hide & seek

Food: french fries & chicken nuggets

Color: pink & purple

Place: a cupcake store

Drink: milk

Thing to do: dancing & shopping with Daddy (he is totally gloating right now)

Clothing: twirly dresses

Friend: Braylon

What she has to say:

Me: What do you think of being four?

Emma: It's boring.

Me: Don't you want to tell me something about today so you can read it when you get older?

Emma: No. I'm eating. Donuts are good.

And a little photo montage of her life so far. The picture from my previous post was her just a few hours old. This is one of my favorites. We were just fresh out of the hospital and all fell asleep together.

This one isn't a birthday picture but I just couldn't resist showing her off. She was two months old.

Here she is on her first birthday telling you how old she is. Notice the snarl. It's hard to get that girl on camera, let me tell you. Plus, by the end of the night, she had snot EVERYWHERE. Sick is not a pleasant way to spend your first birthday but she had nothing to compare it to so I guess it all works out.

And here we have arrived at her second birthday. Just 18 days before she became a big sister for the first time.

Last year, my pretty little big girl. :) I can't believe the change between 2 & 3. Didn't realize it was so drastic before....

And finally, today @ four years old!

Mama loves you, Emma Jo!!!

The Night I Became a Mama......

was four years ago tonight. There was an ice storm that night though the day had been relatively mild for February. I missed church that morning because we (my mom & I) thought my water had broken & decided to walk to try to get the contractions started. I was supposed to have a baby shower with my sister-in-law that afternoon at church as well. She was due three weeks after I was. I, however, wasn't due until three weeks later (Feb 29). Oh, the plans we have.

We tried to eat that evening before we went to the hospital to get checked. Lol, let's just say everything I put in my mouth (plus more) came flying right out. I cried when the dr showed me his little checker paper. I wasn't ready. Maybe I'm still not......

That was also the night I gave a lot of women a reason to resent me. Like my in-laws. And my sister. You see, apparently labor isn't supposed to be a party. Or super fun. Or the best time you've ever had. My husband said it was like me laughing in Eve's face. I say it is God's way of making up for the previous 34 weeks of vomiting & all around misery. And 17 weeks of hormone suppositories. Seriously.

I hadn't really decided beforehand whether I wanted an epidural or not. I was scared of the pain & kind of the unknown aspect of giving birth. But, in real life, I was super scared of needles. Those epidural needles are HUGE. They put them in your spine. That just isn't right! In the end though, I was too shocked to learn that my water had broken & it was, in fact, time to do this mysterious thing. I didn't say a word when the dr said "Your waters are broken. We'll start your epidural as soon as we get a bag of fluids through your IV." I just blubbered.

So, I got the drugs before the contractions started. And proceeded to giggle the rest of the night. I talked on the phone. Giggled. Opened presents from the baby shower I told you about. Giggled. Chattered with my sister-in-laws, mother-in-law, & mama. Giggled. Made fun of my husband for sitting in the corner silently. Giggled. You get the picture, I'm sure. The video is painful to watch. It's just me giggling over EVERYTHING. The nurses would actually just come & stand in my room for no reason. That's how much fun we were. They totally loved me.

I was at a 4 for a while then something just felt different. One of the nurses standing around checked me. She told me I was at an 8 & that it would probably still be awhile but to tell them if anything changed again. She left with the other nurses so it's actually just us for the time being. I was thinking 'you know, maybe I should rest? Surely it's going to get to be more work soon.' The door clicked shut behind the nurse. And it changed. Now, any woman who has given birth knows what I am talking about but man there is just no mistaking that difference. And I was so drugged on the lower half I wasn't feeling a bit of those contractions but I could feel that pressure. I can almost feel it now just thinking about it.....

I hate call buttons. I feel like I'm annoying the nurses if I use it. There are 3 women in the room who have given birth before. Suddenly they are surrounding my bed, insisting I use the annoy button. No, I want the nurses to keep liking me. Besides, I was just at an 8 so I'm sure it's nothing. This back & forth goes on for a minute or two. I'm not giggling anymore. I'm scared & they are pressuring me & getting on MY annoy button. But I'm winning the stand-off so none of that really matters, lol. Then my epidural dispensing machine starts beeping. We read the screen. It says it's empty.

CALL THE NURSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Turns out I really was at a 10. Cue the waterworks again. I'm not ready. It has only been 15 minutes since I was at a 4. It's supposed to take longer. It isn't funny - stop laughing at me. They were seriously laughing at me. My loved ones & the nurses who are back & now draping things & pulling scary metal trays with scary metal instruments out of hidey closets. Mean, mean, mean. Then the nurse tells me I can start pushing. And I'm ready.

This was THE moment. The one I had been waiting my entire life for. Four babies had died inside of me in the past & I hated people saying I was having a baby. I always corrected them. "No, I'm pregnant." There is a difference. When you face the loss of your baby over & over & over & over, there is a difference. There is a difference in you. But, now, oh now, I was having a baby.

My husband (who up until then sat silently in the corner like a kid in time out) is on one side holding one leg. My mama is holding the other. There is a sister-in-law hanging out, waiting to be kicked out by one of the nurses. My mother-in-law is by my head, also hoping not to be kicked out. We ask the nurses if we can break the rules (hospital policy is that only two people were allowed in the room during pushing & birth). Everybody stays (see, I told you they liked me). My mother-in-law counts for me & feeds me ice chips with a spoon. Hubby & mama hold my legs at precisely the same angle & position (because I demand it, lol. I'm OCD like that.) SIL cheers me on, gives encouragement & watches the clock, cameras in hand. It was like heaven.

As a little back story, my sister gave birth 8 months before I did. We have been competing with each other since her birth when I was three years old. She hated me because I only gained 12 pounds. And didn't have stretch marks. She did clue me in that having my legs both up would help because one of her's was up & one was down & her pushing was much less effective. Hence the reason my husband & mama were getting so many "instructions" about how to hold my legs. Her birth experience wasn't really a good one. The lights were bright, the room was loud, her epidural ran out right before she was ready to push & they wouldn't give her more, didn't give her any shots of pain killer before stitches & she felt every. single. one. She pushed for 55 minutes. Ok, back to me!

I'm was getting tired. It was the middle of the night/morning. I hadn't slept the night before hardly at all. Baby didn't let me keep any of my food that day. SIL jokingly tells me I am getting close to my sister's pushing time. Lol, that gave me a second wind & everyone a big laugh. I pushed for 50 minutes.

At 3:52 am, on February 11, 2008, in the middle of an ice storm, with at least 6 nurses standing around, the on-call doc handed me the tiniest baby I had ever seen. Time stopped. Life changed. I didn't cry. She was the culmination of everything -- all my dreams, all my hopes, the longing & even the tears that came after the other babies & the months of puking & hormones. She became my everything in that moment. She made me a mama. A miracle nestled right there in my arms. And I saw God's face.

(If I had any idea how, I would put George Straight's song "I Saw God Today" on here because it always reminds me of that day. So, instead, you can just hum it in your head.)

Emma Joan was 19 3/4" 6 lbs. 15 oz. with big greyish blue eyes & a head FULL of reddish hair. Emma was hubby's great-grandmother's name & Joan (it's pronounced Joe-Ann, it does not rhyme with moan) was my grandma's name. I cannot describe how beautiful she was to me.

That night started the awesome ride of mommyhood that I have been on. I cannot believe how much has changed in our lives since then. How much I have changed. How much she has changed. She is beautiful & smart. She has fiery red hair & all the stereotypes that go with it. She's vivacious & alive & real. And I love her more than life itself. I think that is what mommyhood is all about -- loving your babies more than you ever thought possible with an intensity that could just rip you in two. But it doesn't because it is exactly how God designed us to love. And to think He loves us even more..... It all just boggles the mind.