Multitude Monday, Take 198

Thanking God this week for...

1465. grace to survive week one of potty training
1466. Thomas the Train big-boy underwear
1467. silk pajama pants
1468. remembering that I am dust
1469. His compassion, kindness, patience

1470. His mercy when I do not reflect these things to my sons
1471. dimpled hands
1472. fuzzy blond hair
1473. the beauty of language
1474. reminders that the "villains" are human and more like me than I'd care to admit

1475. trust and vulnerability with friends
1476. evidence of grace and helping each other see it
1477. wisdom, insight and encouragement from a dear friend
1478. husband's thoughtfulness, selflessness
1479. good news from a friend

1480. gorgeous weather
1481. flip-flops on my birthday
1482. birthday cards in the mail
1483. birthday calls and texts and Facebook wishes
1484. donuts with sprinkles

1485. diapers hanging on the line
1486. felt food breakfast with puppet animals
1487. baking fails to humble me
1488. Elijah riding on Steve's shoulders
1489. flowers given with a "Happy Birfday, Mama!"

1490. new pocket camera
1491. painted toenails
1492. dinner with old and new friends
1493. safe arrival of a cousin's baby
1494. anticipation of a new nephew arriving any day now

1495. healing the sicknesses of our bodies and our hearts

Happy Birth Day, Mom

Ever since Elijah was born, I've had a whole new appreciation for my mother. Before then, it was so easy to take for granted the sacrifices she made and the ways she cared for me. I remember on Elijah's first birthday, someone wished me a “Happy Birth Day” and pointed out that the MOMS are the ones who should be celebrated on a child's birthday—after all, they're the ones who did all the work!

After birthing two babies, I couldn't agree more. My mom was the hero on March 18 twenty-nine years ago! So as friends and family celebrate me today, I am throwing out a Birth Day salute to Mom. “Thanks” hardly seems adequate—but I am indeed thankful for the mother who was “born” today!

Multitude "Monday," Take 197

Didn't get a post up yesterday, but I have plenty to be grateful for. This week I'm thanking God for...

1439. husband praying with me and for me
1440. husband preaching the gospel to me
1441. repeated failures that expose the lie of self-sufficiency and my need for a Savior/Helper
1442. long nights of frequent nursing

1443. email with exciting news from a friend
1444. marbled cheese
1445. a Savior who wants to fill the emptiness in me
1446. protecting me from getting hit when I accidentally cut off another driver
1447. the humbling reminder that sometimes I am the bad driver I often yell at

1448. mantel clock repaired
1449. pee in the potty
1450. first forsythia blooms
1451. His perfect justice
1452. the reality that justice and truth will ultimately prevail

1453. courage/humility to cry in front of friends
1454. purple hyacinth
1455. husband's patience and servanthood when I am irritable and unlovable
1456. Saturday afternoon date
1457. friends who watched the boys

1458. sweet wine
1459. Chinese lunch
1460. getting to hear and concentrate on a key part of Sunday's sermon
1461. movie night with my guys
1462. remembering that I am dust

1463. mercies new every minute

New Blogs / Recommended Reading

I know, I know--who needs another blog to keep up with, right? My feed reader is overflowing...in spite of the fact that ever since Jude was born, I've been doing much less blog-reading and have abandoned attempts to keep up with a lot of blogs, even ones that are really interesting to me. It's just not possible to read everything I'd like to read, much to my dismay.

But I've run across a couple of sites recently that are worth sharing. One is brand-new, the other merely new-to-me. Both have some content that has been especially timely for me to read this week.

A college acquaintance of mine, Lisa Velthouse, has a book coming out this spring. She's re-launched a blog for promotional purposes, and her first few posts have been wonderful. I'm hoping to get an advance review copy of the book, Craving Grace. In the meantime, I'd encourage you to check out her blog--especially these posts:
Taste for Faith
Frustrated in Fasting
Ash Wednesday

And then a Facebook friend of mine linked to a post from The Happiest Mom (written by Meagan Francis), and that post was interesting enough to prompt me to poke around in the archives a bit. I'm glad I did, since I particularly needed to read these two posts:
Of Soggy French Toast and Starving Anger
Does Venting Make Moms Feel Better?

I think I'll be adding Francis's upcoming book, The Happiest Mom: 10 Secrets to Enjoying Motherhood, to my wishlist, too.

Happy weekend reading!

Recent Recipes

I had a request in the comments a couple of weeks ago for my chicken lettuce wraps recipe - thought I would take the opportunity to recommend a couple of others, too...

Chicken Lettuce Wraps
We looked for a copycat recipe after falling in love with the famous appetizers at P.F. Chang's--and we think this one is pretty dead on! I'm sure if you had theirs and then ours, you'd totally be able to tell the difference, but if you haven't been there in a while, ours satisfy the craving. The recipe requires the purchase of a couple of special ingredients, which is why I didn't make it for quite a while after I found it--but they are things that last forever and definitely worth it. These wraps are also really labor-intensive with all that mincing (and trying to peel whole leaves of lettuce off the head is a giant pain), so we don't have them very often, but they definitely hit the spot for us recently.

FYI, I couldn't find "garlic and red chile paste" - I found "red chili paste" in the international aisle at Kroger and then used a clove of minced garlic. Also, you'll want to cut the special sauce recipe in half, unless you have some other use for it.

Black Bean Pumpkin Soup
Sounds weird. Does not look particularly appealing (mine did not look like her pictures). But it was from one of my favorite food blogs, Smitten Kitchen--Deb is a fabulous writer and photographer as well as cook--and I was intrigued. When I ladled it into bowls I was skeptical...when I took my first bite I was excited. Her description is quite apt: "This soup is loud. Beefy, spicy, smoky, textured and complex, ten times better than I even knew pumpkin soup could be." Yes. I'll make this again.

Sausage and White Bean Soup
This is my friend Marjorie's go-to meal for new moms. She brought it to us in November (along with some whole wheat rolls that were to DIE for...I threw five of them in my freezer and am saving them for a special occasion, oh yum...and these cookies which I ate far too many of). Anyway, Marjorie and her husband have SKILLS in the kitchen and this soup was so wonderful. It has a really distinctive taste, different from all the other tomato-based soups I make. I tried my hand at it a couple of weeks ago, and while it wasn't quite as good as hers (maybe because she uses homemade stock and sausage, maybe because I didn't have to make it, maybe a little of both) it was still quite satisfying.

Cream Biscuits
Another Smitten Kitchen recipe I printed off forever ago and just finally got around to trying. I always end up with heavy cream leftover when I make fettuccine alfredo, and these biscuits seemed like a perfect way to use it up (it was exactly the right amount). Healthy they are not...heavy cream is the *only* liquid in the biscuits...but oh my. Just make them. And freeze half before baking them or you'll just eat them all.

We've still got food in our freezer because of how nuts I went last summer/fall before Jude was born, but now that we're settling into life with two kiddos I'm enjoying being back in the kitchen some.

Multitude Monday, Take 196

"Whoever enjoys any worldly pleasure without benediction commits a theft against God."
~Kelton Cobb, "Table Blessings," from The Spirit of Food

Thanking God this week for...

1410. the exciting (and stretching) ways He is at work in and through our church
1411. a visit from my parents
1412. my dad's hard work painting yet another part of my house
1413. my mom's help with the boys
1414. Elijah's strong, healthy teeth

1415. dental insurance
1416. only having to take him to the dentist twice a year
1417. tiny leaf buds on a weeping willow
1418. public displays of humility
1419. bloggers who are bold in defending truth

1420. balsamic vinegar
1421. the new novel I'm adding to my all-time favorites list
1422. reminders to cherish my boys
1423. Elijah scratching my back
1424. majestic giraffes, including the new baby giraffe

1425. flexible, bright, delightfully odd flamingos
1426. the one who got close enough to us that he tried to eat Elijah's hair
1427. screeching, climbing monkeys
1428. a zoo membership to enjoy His creation
1429. vulnerability and honesty from and with other women

1430. Steve home after a week-long business trip
1431. Steve's compassion, gentleness, touch
1432. Steve's preaching the gospel to me
1433. Elijah's cough not keeping him and us up all night like we feared
1434. the beautiful adoption story I read online yesterday

1435. a friend's reminder that gratitude has to go beyond worldly pleasures to thanking God for who He is and what He has done for us in Christ
1436. so loving the world that He gave His only Son that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life
1437. the fact that there is now no condemnation for me because I am in Christ
1438. being more patient with me than I am with my children

Jude's Birth: Pain, Peace, Joy

[part 5: hard work, but not alone]

Not too long after my water broke, Cindy checked heart tones again—and Jude's heart rate was way too slow. I could tell it didn't sound right, and there was definitely a note of concern/disturbance in her voice as she called out, “90s...80s..” Normal is 120-160 beats per minute. It's typical for the heart rate to drop as the baby is squeezed through the pelvis, I found out later, but it should only drop into the 90s-110s. Jude's got down into the 70s.

Nobody freaked out--Susie especially was so calm and controlled--but she told me that he wasn't tolerating that position well and I needed to move. I shifted onto my back, but his heart rate still didn't come back up. They put an oxygen mask on me and really urged me to push harder. Looking back, it is such a miraculous sign of God's mercy that I was not panicked and fearful at that point. But I wasn't. The pain was unbearable, but I wasn't scared about whether Jude was okay--I had such peace.

It felt like I pushed forever; I don't know how long it really was. Then finally, at 11:58 AM, he was born! Susie placed him in my arms, and we waited for him to pink up. She had warned me that it sometimes takes longer with waterbirths, and it really did. He not only didn't cry; he didn't move at all. His eyes were closed and he was completely still. And I didn't really notice at the time, but looking at the pictures, he was just absolutely gray. They put an oxygen mask on him and worked to get him breathing while I held him. And again, I did not feel worried or scared—I felt such inexplicable peace.

After just a few moments he started breathing, and cried, and I just wept. I experienced that joy, that love—Thank You, Jesus! Steve held me close and rejoiced over our beautiful son, expressed how proud he was of me. Through tears, I announced that his name was Jude and briefly told why. I was just overcome by the faithfulness of God.

It was SO great to be in our own home, to curl up in our own bed...I underestimated how nice that would be. My parents didn't come until the next day, so we were on our own that first night. Steve was better than any nurse :) The way he cared for me so tenderly...having his babies makes me fall in love with him all over again.

So...that's the story of Jude's birth. If you made it this far--thanks for reading. I guess you know by now I can't tell a short story :) An amazing display of God's mercy and grace...more answers to prayer than I can count. An occasion for PRAISE, to be sure. God has been so good, so faithful to me.

the entire series:
prelude
a doula provided
waiting
finally, labor begins
hard work, but not alone
pain, peace, joy

Jude's Birth: Hard Work, But Not Alone

[part 4: finally, labor begins]

Unlike Elijah's birth, this time my contractions never were super close together--in fact, Susie was encouraging me to go for a walk to get them going more frequently. I paced through the house a bit, but mostly I just wanted to be leaning over. And though the contractions weren't coming fast, they were long, and strong. But WOW--having a break between them made all the difference in the world! I was so much more able to cope!

Then between 10:30-11, Susie told me they had another client in labor. After some discussion, it was like my body decided, “You better get serious or you're going to lose your midwife!” I said I wanted to get in the tub, NOW. And the water felt SOOOO good—I wished I had gotten in sooner! I'd been afraid to get in too early because I had heard that if you do, it could actually slow things down—and I guess since my contractions weren't super close together, I was extra cautious about stalling labor. Anyway, I leaned over the side of the tub and just LOVED how good it felt.

Then, the very first contraction I had in the water, I found myself involuntarily pushing! I think everyone was surprised when the contraction ended and I said, “Um, I'm feeling pushy. Those changes in my voice as I moaned through that contraction? That was me bearing down.”

The next thing I knew, they were telling me that the water was too hot and I needed to get out. But there was NO WAY I was getting out of that glorious water. I sort of shifted so my belly was partially out of the water, and ignored them...I couldn't stand the thought of getting out. Steve added cold water and eventually they stopped bugging me :)

I was feeling more and more pushy, and more anxious about the pain. During one contraction, Dee read the lyrics of “Begone, Unbelief”--I could hardly hear or understand her over my own groans, but still it was a comfort. And my noises were *much* more controlled this time; no screaming hysterically like I'd done the last time.

It felt best to me to be on my knees, leaning over the side of the tub. Soon my water broke, and the pain got really intense. Plus my legs kept cramping, which was so horrible! But the best part was that I never felt alone. The pain was still scary, but I felt so much more supported. I'd grip Steve's and Dee's hands. I kept needing to make eye contact with someone—usually Dee or Susie—to avoid losing it. Toward the end, Steve was praying continually, right close to my ear. His calm, low, steady voice was so comforting and helped keep me grounded.

[part 6: pain, peace, joy]

Jude's Birth: Finally, Labor Begins

[part 3: waiting]

Every time I woke up during the night of October 20-21 and was not in labor, I fretted about what was going to happen at my prenatal the next day. I was full of fear, not faith.

Then I woke up around 4:00 and felt...*different.* No contractions yet, but Jude had definitely dropped. I went to the bathroom and just knew in my gut—this was it.

My first contraction came a few minutes later. Steve and I got up around 4:45; we showered and ate, and Steve started setting up the birth pool. I'm sure it sounds like this was all premature, since I had had only two contractions and they weren't anywhere near needing to be timed...but I just had this feeling that this was the day, and I didn't know how quickly things might move. Since my midwife and doula were both an hour or more away, I was anxious for them to be here. I called them around 5:30. Then I texted and emailed several friends who had promised to pray for me during labor, and we called our parents to let them know things were starting. I know I was carried by those prayers!

My doula, Dee, arrived around 7, followed shortly by my midwife, Susie. Then I had to deal with the childcare drama a little more. Making plans for where Elijah would go during the birth (I did not want him around, for his sake and mine) had turned into a giant, crazy mess; the arrangements were literally changing daily. As many as six different people were on call to pick him up depending on when I went into labor.

When I called my friend who was up for Thursday (whom I had only just arranged the day before!), I found out that she wouldn't be able to keep him past early afternoon. So in between contractions, I was making a list of people for her to call to find someone to pass him off to! I was a little stressed and felt terrible for Elijah, but when she came around 9:00, Elijah was excited to see his friends and happily got in the car. Huge relief. Now I could really concentrate on laboring.

Dee was amazing. She knew just what to say and do to help me through a contraction. She was full of encouragement, saying I was handling it beautifully, doing everything right. And I did feel much more confident and in control this time, much more able to relax. Dee would rub my back, pray for me, read Scripture, let me lean over her shoulders...so helpful. And as skilled as she was, she didn't crowd Steve out. Once he wasn't busy with the pool, she encouraged him to jump in and helped him know what to do.

My playlist of songs about not fearing, trusting the Lord, His nearness, etc., was hugely beneficial. It gave me something to think about besides the pain, helped me preach truth to myself. At one point early on, I was laboring on an exercise ball, leaning over a pile of pillows on the bed, and as I listened to the lyrics of one of the songs, I started to weep. Dee asked what was wrong, and I said that I was just blown away by how faithless and full of fear I had been, and how merciful God was. I felt broken, repentant, amazed by His grace and kindness in spite of me.

[part 5: hard work, but not alone]

Multitude Monday, Take 195

"Thanksgiving is necessary to live the well, whole, fullest life."
~ Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

Thanking God this week for...

1385. muffins out of the freezer
1386. being able to wear Jude on my back--makes it so much easier to get things done!
1387. blue scribbles covering an oversized white paper
1388. the satisfaction of finishing a good book
1389. Elijah's internalizing and repeating what I've told him

1390. loaves of bread rising on counter
1391. getting to experience both a little baby and a big baby
1392. a pizza date with my boys
1393. their patience through endless boring errands
1394. Schleich animals at Target, a fun reward for Elijah

1395. Steve's hard work to prepare to teach children's Sunday school
1396. Steve's creativity
1397. eighteen issues of Better Homes & Gardens in the free bin at the library
1398. long walks in gorgeous weather
1399. tiny closed buds on branches

1400. friends here for dinner and prayer every Wednesday night
1401. Elijah's screaming "STOOOOOP!" at inanimate objects is at least marginally better than just screaming/whining
1402. date night with Steve
1403. gift certificate to a fabulous gourmet restaurant
1404. Steve's opening car doors for me--which never happens anymore with two kids :)

1405. gnarled tree roots
1406. piggyback rides
1407. presence of mind to pray when tempted and when I've sinned
1408. His sovereignty over simple things like when I read which books
1409. His faithfulness when we are unfaithful

Jude's Birth: Waiting

[part 2: a doula provided]

So I had a doula. I did lots of reading about natural childbirth and worked through a wonderful book on fear. I made a playlist of songs about not being afraid, trusting the Lord, His being with me, etc. I bought birth supplies and washed diapers and folded onesies. I enlisted an army of trusted friends to pray for me in the weeks leading up to Jude's birth and while I was in labor. All that was left to do was wait.

And wait we did.

I've gotten on my soapbox before about how I hate the idea of of a "due date"--this magic day when baby is "supposed to" arrive and after which he is considered "late." With Elijah, I stubbornly refused to tell people my "exact due date." But the truth is, Elijah was born "early"--at 39 weeks, 2 days. So although we knew it wasn't a guarantee, I think Steve and I both just expected that Jude would come before his "official due date," too.

Well, 39w2d came and went, so we relaxed. I had been wanting a 10/10/10 baby anyway, and now I had a chance! But October 10 passed and I was still pregnant. Next I set my sights on the 15th, thinking it would be fun to give Steve's granny a birthday great-grandbaby. No such luck.

And then my midwife started talking induction.

You see, I had originally estimated the 40-week mark as October 18, but at my first prenatal visit, my midwife changed it to October 11. Once the 11th came and went, the clock was ticking. I was completely content to wait and let the baby come when he decided it was time. But my midwife would be unable (or at least unwilling) to attend a homebirth past 42 weeks. If we reached that point, I would have no choice but to see her backup physician, who would want to schedule a hospital induction immediately. If I wanted to avoid that, it was time to start thinking about "natural" induction methods to get things going and preserve my homebirth plans.

I was distraught. To many of you, it may not sound like a big deal. Some of you may have voluntarily chosen to be induced in a hospital. But for me, that option was terrifying, and the idea of trying less invasive induction methods wasn't much more appealing. I just did not want to mess with the process. I wanted to trust my body and the baby and let labor start naturally, without the use of drugs in a hospital *or* methods at home.

Mercifully, I was not at that point many women reach, where they're miserable beyond belief and all "get this baby OUT of me NOW." I was truly fine with waiting, except that I felt pressured by the circumstances. On top of all this, my carefully laid plans for what to do with Elijah during the birth (I did not want him here!) were crumbling. Actually it went from "crumbling" to "disintegrating" to "blowing up in my face"...I'll spare you the details but it was insane, to say the least.

By October 18 I was officially 41 weeks, though by that point I was pretty sure that the revised due date was wrong. No matter. My midwife ordered an ultrasound, and Jude passed with flying colors. We had a green light to keep waiting, but I was keenly aware of the ticking clock.

I had a prenatal appointment scheduled for Thursday the 21st, and I was so anxious about what was going to happen. I desperately wanted to avoid induction of any kind, but my October 25 deadline was looming. It was such a battle to trust God that week, to believe that He is good and loving and wise and would be no less so even if I didn't get to have the homebirth I had planned. I'm sure that sounds silly, but that was my frame of mind.

I went to bed Wednesday night fervently hoping and praying that my midwife could come deliver a baby the next day instead of coming for a prenatal visit. Talk about answered prayer...

[part 4: finally, labor begins]

Jude's Birth: A Doula Provided

[part 1: prelude]

If I had been planning a hospital birth again, I'd have hired a doula without a second thought. I wished I had had one the first time around. But initially, I thought that with a homebirth, I wouldn't need one. To make a long story a tiny bit shorter, I ended up deciding I wanted one, and thought I had the perfect candidate lined up, a doula I already knew slightly through online interactions. I was stoked. Until a few days later when it all fell through.

I tried to trust God through my disappointment, reminding myself that if He had wanted her at my birth, if that was what was best, He would have made it happen, and that if it didn't work out, that was because He had something better in mind.

How could I have known what He was up to?

The immediate problem was, how would I find a new doula? My dilemma was that I needed someone who was a Christian. I'm sure there are plenty of amazing doulas who aren't--but it was important to me to have someone who would pray with and for me, someone with whom I could process things with from a biblical perspective. I ended up going to a meet-and-greet and expressing interest in a couple of the doulas, but I still didn't know how to approach the faith issue.

A week later I was contacted by my #2 choice, Dee (#1 wasn't available for October). I explained in an email what I was hoping for in a doula, and asked whether she would be able to support me in that. And her response...wow. I mean, just wow.

She told me that she was a believer, and proceeded to share how she is thrilled to discover that a client is a Christian because she can then encourage the mom as a sister in Christ and not just as a doula. She described her sweetest births as ones where she's prayed over the moms/babies. All that was more than enough to satisfy me--it was exactly what I needed to hear.

But then. She went on to share, oddly, that she is Reformed. Said she hesitated to say so because it can be unnecessarily divisive, but in the interest of being an open book, there it was. Described the church she goes to as similar to John Piper's church. And I'm all, Seriously, Lord? Seriously?

I realize that those of you who are not Reformed are scratching your heads at this point going, either, "What's Reformed, anyway?" or "I don't get it, why is that a big deal?" whereas those of you who are Reformed are going, "Wow, that's so awesome!" :) Let me clarify that I have plenty of non-Reformed friends and don't view the Reformed ones as somehow superior. Basically she just communicated to me that she and I were very much on the same page theologically, not merely believing the same basic set of truths, but understanding Scripture the same way, reading the same books, listening to the same podcasts, and therefore interpreting life through similar lenses. And that lens is one that's in the minority among Christians, so it's not a commonality I expected to find.

I couldn't even believe she mentioned it--it was sort of odd, really, if it hadn't been so...appropriate. I emailed her back and basically said, "Isn't it just like God to provide me with this? You're hired." I mean, I could have cried. To drop a doula in my lap--my third choice, no less--who not only was genuinely a believer in Christ but was actually on the same page as me theologically?! And her response was similar--she confessed to second-guessing herself in her original disclosure, wondering why she'd shared that, and then after hearing back from me, said, "How KIND of God to match us up! This is very, very cool."

So in early September, I was reminded very powerfully that my God is a kind and loving Father who knows how to give good gifts to His children. He faithfully lavishes grace on me even when I am full of doubt and fear and fail to trust Him. He delights to blow me away by providing abundantly more than I asked or imagined.

I needed that reminder--and this doula--as I prepared for Jude's birth.

[part 3: waiting]

Jude's Birth: Prelude

The story of Jude's birth is not merely a play-by-play of all the nitty-gritty details about contractions and dilating and pushing. It's a story of the mercy of God. It's about His abundant provision of grace even in the face of fear and unbelief. It's about intercessory prayer and powerful, clear answers to those pleas. It's about a God who loves to be known as mighty and faithful, a God who bears our burdens and generously gives good gifts.

Four months later, I'm finally getting around to sharing the story. Fair warning: it is going to include lots of details, which may bore those of you who are not interested in birth stories. And it's going to be a multi-part series, because--well, because I'm writing it, and if you've been reading this blog longer than three days, you know that I can't tell a short story :) Disclaimers aside...here we go.

My story--Jude's story--starts with the birth of Elijah three years earlier. A birth that on paper was textbook, uncomplicated, everything I had hoped for. He came in about 12 hours, without any drugs, without any of the interventions I didn't want.

And it terrified me.

I had prepared for natural childbirth, and actually hadn't felt fearful in the weeks leading up to his birth. I felt ready: I can do this. I labored as long as possible at home, so by the time we got to the hospital, I was dilated 6-7 cm. And then my water broke, and instead of the regularly spaced contractions we talked about in childbirth class, my pain turned into one four-hour-long contraction. No breaks. I panicked. I've never felt so scared in my life.

After Elijah was here, I didn't experience that whole "when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish" thing. I used words like "traumatic" and "shellshocked" to describe his birth, less "love at first sight" and more "what just happened to me?" We've covered that on this blog already. But all that to say, learning last February that I was pregnant meant that I was going to have to go through labor and delivery again. And I was terrified. The first time around, I'd read all about the fear-tension-pain cycle, how you can't be scared, and I wasn't. I refused to listen to negative birth stories. I was confident. This time around, I *knew* what was coming--how on earth could I NOT be scared?

Despite my fear of enduring natural childbirth again, I ended up deciding to have a homebirth--which is another post(s) for another day. I spent the first several months in denial about the fact that I was actually going to have to deliver this baby. Then I spent the last couple of months reading book after book, from childbirth books to biblical counseling books on fear. I tried to remember that every birth is different, that this would not be simply a repeat of Elijah's birth. I knew being at home was going to be completely different. I planned a waterbirth, sometimes called "the midwives' epidural." I prayed a lot, and asked others to pray. Then, late in August, I hired a doula. That experience was my first clue that God had something beautiful in store.

[part 2: a doula provided]
[part 3: waiting]
[part 4: finally, labor begins]
[part 5: hard work, but not alone]
[part 6: pain, peace, joy]

Emptied

Several years ago, I was asked to make a list of things that "empty my well" and a list of things that "fill my well"--in other words, the events/situations/tasks that drain you and the ones that make you feel energized and excited.

One of the top items on my "empty" list was "situations in which I don't know what I'm doing." I was thinking specifically of the part of my job description that summer which I most hated: helping to fix lunch for about twenty college students. At that point I had little experience in the kitchen, and being shoved in there with the responsibility of feeding that many people (the students, plus five interns and a smattering of other people who might be around) was a prospect I dreaded every time my turn came up. I felt completely inept, inadequate, stupid.

It wasn't until a few years later that God showed me how that item on my list wasn't simply a matter of personality or preference. It was a clear display of my top besetting sin: pride (mixed in with a liberal dose of fear of man). The truth was, I didn't like kitchen duty--or other "situations in which I don't know what I'm doing"--because I was afraid others would think I was dumb. I felt uncomfortably self-conscious, and I hated the idea of other people seeing me as bumbling, unsure, ignorant. I've been that way my whole life; just ask my parents. I've always resisted doing things I'm not good at (make that instantly good at), because I want to excel--I want to be the best. And so I avoid any situation in which I might fail.

It has since dawned on me that that experience and subsequent revelation was preparing me for the crucible of motherhood. Raising my boys is the ultimate "situation in which I don't know what I'm doing." And so once again, my prideful, sinful heart resists. I don't like this, I think to myself. Because I can't do this. I'm not good at it.

I have no idea what I'm doing in this life as someone's mother. I feel hopeless when I can't make the crying stop, don't know how to discipline, can't control my own ugly emotions. I'm not the mother I hoped to be (even, arrogantly, thought I'd be). I wasn't cut out for this, my "empty" self laments; he would be better off if I were not his mother.

All this, I think, is emptying me after all--just as God intended. Not in a self-aware, "this is the way my brain works," personality-preferences kind of way, but in a "emptied of pride so He can fill me with His grace" kind of way.

[edited repost from the archives]

Multitude Monday, Take 194

1353. husband sitting at breakfast table eating the Word
1354. Romans 8
1355. microwave to reheat lunch-grown-cold-while-nursing
1356. almonds and craisins
1357. Jude's working lungs

1358. Jude's desire and ability to nurse
1359. plenty of milk to fill his belly
1360. grace to start giving thanks out loud instead of seething
1361. Valentine cards: generous, funny, thoughtful, hilarious, heartfelt
1362. a kiss from Steve at Qdoba, resulting in a free burrito

1363. sharing the queso love with friends from church
1364. long walks in the gorgeous weather
1365. cell phone repaired
1366. a kitchen helper who wears a wild animals apron
1367. the daylight lasting longer

1368. Wednesday night dinners and prayer with friends from church
1369. an intense workout of a walk with friends
1370. a playdate afterward
1371. Elijah's tenderheartedness
1372. the fact that my baby carrier is machine washable

1373. reminders to stop and listen and cherish
1374. preschooler so excited about homemade fettuccine alfredo that he almost forgets to stop and breathe between bites
1375. the way gratitude begets gratitude
1376. boys giggling uncontrollably
1377. ibuprofen

1378. the way burdens become lighter when shared
1379. courage to share them
1380. more friends here for dinner
1381. homemade chicken lettuce wraps
1382. covering me with Jesus as a Shield

1383. Ann's book reminding me why I am counting these gifts, deepening lessons of gratitude
1384. dozens more gifts noted this week than space or time permit me to relist here