Saturday, November 12, 2016

Christmastime is here!

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Monday, October 17, 2016

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Tuesday, March 22, 2016

My Momma Prayer

Every night at bedtime, 
I carry you into your room.
I change your tiny diaper,
As you lay on your keekaroo.

I undress you from your playtime clothes,
And kiss your perfect tummy.
You let out laughs and giggles,
And think your momma is funny.

I dress you nice and warm,
In your night-night jammies.
Then I shut off your bedroom light,
And instead turn the stars on your Lambie.

You nurse in my arms,
I hold you tight.
Then, I swaddle you in your blanket before I turn off your night light.

We walk and bounce around your tiny room to the sound of your lullabies. 
You suck on your paci and hold onto your bunny,
Until you close your eyes.

Then we sit together in your rocking chair.
As you rest peacefully,
I can't help but stare.

The way the light hits your face,
Your chubby little fingers,
Your sleepy smiles and tiny toes
Are only a few of the thousands of things that I hope to remember.

When I know that you're sleeping and we end another day,
I listen to the sound of your soft breath.
Then, I slowly begin to pray.

Some days are good while others are better. 
But, there's never a day that goes by,
That I don't thank the Lord that He brought you into my life.

Being a mom is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
I worry about every little thing and try with all my might,
So that you never question how much you are loved when you go to bed each night.

I pray that you're happy.
That God gives you a deeper joy.
And that you grow up to know Him and His love in your life, baby boy.

I pray for your future,
Your mind and your heart,
That you're smart and successful and I've done my part.

I pray for your wife.
That her parents raise her right.
That you both make wise decisions, and faith becomes your sight.

I pray she loves you just as much as I do, if not more.
That she makes your house a home.
She builds you up with respect and support,
And you cherish her as your own.

I pray for your marriage,
The foundation on which it is made.
That neither of you take lightly that vows that you say.

I pray your love lasts and brings you more joy than you can fathom,
And she will become part of our family.
That we will gain our daughter, rather than losing our son.

I pray for your family.
That one day you'll feel in your heart,
The amount of love you can bear when your child enters your arms.

I pray out of selfishness,
That I get to be a part of the big and small.
And if ever you need someone, I will be there for it all.

I pray for your health,
That you will live a long life that is free
Of sickness, turmoil, or disease.

I pray for this world,
That it will be a better place.
That the leaders of this country,
Will be filled with God's grace.

Every night I whisper my dreams and my fears,
My heart becomes overwhelmed and my eyes fill with tears.

I end my prayer the same every time.
Above all else, it is my plea
That you will always know how much you are loved by me.

I lift your sweet body and kiss your sweet cheek,
I carry you to bed and say "goodnight" and "sweet dreams."

As I lay you down and tuck you in warm,
I give all of my worries and cares over to the Lord.

The greatest joy I've ever known,
Came the day that you were born.


Tuesday, January 12, 2016

The Dance

Hours.

He had been crying for hours. Somewhere over the course of the evening, my sanity left and I could no longer hear myself think. I became a robot as I tried the normal "fixes". Feed, change, bounce, rock, repeat.

Nothing seemed to overcome the screams as his face darkened to a new shade of red. His temper kicked in and he had made it over the edge-to the point of no return. I turned on the glorious vacuum, partially because it soothed him, partially to drown out the noise. Why wouldn't he just go to sleep? I knew he was fighting it. All I could do was dream of my own pillow and its welcoming embrace.

As I rounded the corner to his room for what seemed like the thousandth time, I pressed repeat on his lullabies and held him to my chest.
My movement slowed and so did his crying. I could feel him calming down-giving into the tiredness. Then, I waltzed him around the tiny 5'x5' square between the rocker and the changing table. I listened to the sappy words of his lullabies as he melted into my arms.

The green stars of his little lamb flashed across the room, and for a moment all I could do was thank God for this time with him. Time stood still as I danced with him in my arms. But, I knew morning would come too soon and life would keep moving. Just as quickly as first smile, first laugh, first tantrum, first time to hold up his head came, his life would be full of firsts that came before I was ready.

One day, he will have his first kiss with a girl that will take my place. They will share secrets and bond. He will no longer melt in my arms. He will embrace her. He will choose to spend his life by her side, say "I do", and give her the first dance.

As the soft light fell across my baby's tear drenched cheek, I cried. I imagined him standing over his momma on his wedding day. The day will be a blur, the music will play, and I pray time will stop for just a moment so I don't feel him slipping from my fingers.

Thursday, January 7, 2016

Be Available. Be Present. Be Still.

As a first time mom, I am becoming more and more aware of the needs of my child. At first, there was a quiet desperation as I brought home a tiny human that solely depended upon me. When he cried, I cried (literally). When he smiled, my heart grew ten times its size. My life was turned upside down as a single person changed my life forever. 

After almost 45 hours of labor, the visitors started pouring in. I was exhausted. Then, off to our house where we were left to fend for ourselves. Despite their best intentions, family made things so much worse. The constant visits and interruptions came during a time we just needed to bond. Not to mention, I never allowed myself time to heal. How could I with the demands of a newborn? 

The days seemed to run together as sleep disappeared. I felt myself slipping away as I tried to juggle everything. I felt guilt sink in as I loved my son so much yet hated what my life had become. I was lost. I couldn't shower, eat, or sleep. My mind never stopped thinking-worrying. The passing judgments on my parenting choices and potential risks that others shared, only worsened matters. Fear creeped in.

My precious son screamed regularly, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to console him. I felt inadequate. Why wasn't anything working? All I ever wanted was to be a good mom, but I can't even make him happy. The crying worsened and in between the normal fussiness of a baby came the shriek that made my heart ache. 

Nursing was awful. It wasn't just the pain of getting used to things, but it took over our entire lives. He wouldn't latch, he would wriggle too much, I couldn't hold him right, he wanted fed all the time, he would eat and immediately want more, he would make himself sick yet he would scream if I didn't cooperate, and I just couldn't get it. I found myself changing everything I ate (which wasn't difficult since I couldn't find time to eat during the day).

Those first weeks seemed endless-a blur. Trying to be a "good wife", I continued to push my needs aside. Then, when I voiced my pain to a sleep deprived/work driven husband, I hit a roadblock. I needed my husband. I resented him not wanting to hold him the second he walked in the door. All I wanted was a shower most days, but even that seemed like too much to ask for. I tried to adjust to the demanding lifestyle of a new mom by myself. I felt alone-misunderstood. I continued to become more and more exhausted. There was no time to catch up on rest. 

Then, it happened.

I turned off the lights, turned on his "stars", played his lullabies, fed and swaddled him-and my world changed. I bounced around the room, paced back-and-forth, waltzed to the music, and sat down to rock him to sleep. I watched as his eyes slowly closed and felt his body calm down. Then, I kissed his cheek as he smiled back at me. In that moment I knew everything was going to be okay.

Somewhere between the endless crying, countless questions, doctor's visits, and feeling defeated there came a time when I began to allow myself grace. I stopped looking in the mirror and getting frustrated. I stopped caring if I had the same clothes on that I had on the day before (or before that). I allowed the laundry to pile up. And, when he cried I began to know what to do. I realized he had lonely cries in the night when he wanted to be held. When someone else had him, he cried for me. He had a cry for needing changed and one for hunger. I knew when his tummy hurt-when he needed his legs held, had to burp, or just needed to be consoled until he felt better. Then, I recognized his sleepy cry. 

Rocking became "our thing". Within minutes, I could hold this precious boy and rock him to sleep. It was easy to think of the millions of things that needed to be done-to be tempted to try to put him in his crib. But, as those weeks turned into months I realized how fast time had slipped through my fingers. He began to outgrow his first clothes and my arms began to get tired. My baby boy was growing up.

How does it happen so fast? I had prepared myself for this and told myself to capture every day. I had thousands of pictures and my memory was strong. Still, as I flipped through pictures of those first days I saw how much he had changed. I began to forget what happened on which days. Then, one night I felt my heart ache as I realized I don't want to miss a thing. I felt God's whisper say, "Be available. Be present. Be still."

I realized I needed to be there-physically there for my son. And, when I'm with him I need to be "there". He needs to see my eyes, feel my touch, and hear my voice. Then, I need to be in the moment. Stop worrying about what is next or having a plan. Stop thinking about the things that aren't getting done. Instead, be there to hold his hands, listen to his laughter, and-in the quiet- thank God for every breath.

I no longer wanted to get through the day-I wanted to cherish it. Instead of wishing for him to fall asleep all day, I prayed that I could be who he needed me to be in the moment. I began to pay attention to his smiles, tiny voice, and if he needed to be held, I held him. 

Before I knew it, he began to thrive. Our days began with so much joy as I woke him up each morning. Nursing got easier and we finally figured each other out. Routine started to develop and I gained more confidence in my abilities. He cried less and so did I. He began smiling more, playing, and laughing. We would end the day with the same smiles we started with. Each day was better than the last. 

As I hold my "almost 10 week old" I am in awe of how much love I can have. My heart feels so much fuller because of him. I worry about making the world better because of him. I can't kiss him enough. He made me a better person. For all those longing for motherhood-never give up. For the new moms struggling to get through each day-you are enough. And for anyone that is rushing through life and wondering where it went-slow down. Our families are far too precious not to give them our best. 

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank the Lord for Dash. 



Friday, January 1, 2016

2016

Dear 2016,
It is difficult to think I am meeting you so quickly. I mean, it was just yesterday that I greeted 2015 with open arms and now I'm saying goodbye. 2015 brought with it a lot of changes. We made it to the end of our fertility struggles as we completed a long process of IVF, we saw our sweet baby for the first time, we found out we were welcoming a little boy into our family, we spent months in pain-sicker than we could have ever imagined, we wrapped up the sorrow with our hearts full of joy and our arms full of the sweetest son, we spent time as a family-learning how to adjust, and we celebrated with loved ones. It is hard to think of you being able to fill 2015's shoes, but I have hope in you. I'll do my best to hold up my side of this relationship by putting my best foot forward. I pray to be a better wife, to be the best mom to my baby boy, and to be a witness of the great love of Christ. I pray I can be available, be present, and be still to receive all the blessings you are sure to bring. I hope you are just as memorable as my friend, 2015. So, here's to you and what is to come!

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Imperfect Human

If I were to be honest with everyone, including myself, I would say that it has been hard to trust Christians in my life.  Despite growing up in church, I admit that I don't know if I have had a clear illustration of what being a Christian looks like.

I watched the elderly gossip and live in a "my way or the highway" mentality.  The parents desperately searched for answers to raise their kids to "ask Jesus into their heart" and then they were off the hook for the remainder of their parenting.  Young adults developed a "it could always be worse" attitude when reflecting on their own lives, and teens would question how much sin they could get away with before it is "too much".  The preteens would continue to do whatever they could to "fit in" whether that meant getting an invite to the party on Saturday or knowing the church answers on Sunday.  Kids were kids and parents made excuses as they were either afraid to "spare the rod" or afraid to not "let them be little".

As a brand new parent, one that hasn't even laid hands on my babe yet, I am sure I will one day "eat my words" as my family has told me.  However, I set out to be intentional about some very important things when it comes to bringing up my son in a confusing world.

It has been heavy on my heart as I have watched those around me open up about the reality of their lives as adults.  Just within the past few months, I have received criticism for having such "high standards" from the very Christians I grew up with.

Would you ever tell your little girl to lower her standards to be treated with love, respect, dignity, and value?  Would you ever tell her that she needs to settle because it is unrealistic to expect someone to care about her needs above their own?

I have watched people I admired from a distance become increasingly imperfect as the masks have come off.  The families that I thought had everything, have brokenness & separation.  They have put down their own family members for the outcomes they have caused from choosing to accept the things of the world.  They have pushed people away out of fear of confrontation.  They have tried everything to look perfect on the outside, but in the quiet of their homes are living a lie.  They have tried to keep up the appearance, becoming more materialistic with each passing day. They have lowered their standards to fit in, and even made excuses to make themselves look better.  They have criticized those that uphold higher standards for being "judgmental" or "non-accepting" because they choose not to participate in their acts.

I am in no way claiming to be perfect.  In fact, I am an imperfect human.  The difference is, I recognize my need for God and strive to be better because of it.  The hardest part about thinking about raising a child is trying to hold them to be more Christ-like rather than being a Christian.  It is daunting to think that even the people they may look up to, may not provide them with the right direction. It is my hope that I can look to the only role-model worthy of having my son's eyes upon Him.  And, I pray that when he walks in the footprints of his mommy and daddy, he is ultimately following Christ.

In a world that teaches selfishness, I aim to teach selflessness.
In a world that teaches success, I aim to teach satisfaction.
In a world that teaches rules, I aim to teach obedience.
In a world that teaches confidence, I aim to teach humility.
In a world that teaches drunkenness, I aim to teach desired sobriety.
In a world that teaches lower standards, I aim to teach increased standards.
In a world that teaches sexuality, I aim to teach love.
In a world that teaches self-gratification, I aim to teach long-term peace.
In a world that teaches greed, I aim to teach financial blessings.
In a world that teaches laws, I aim to teach respect.
In a world that teaches criticism, I aim to teach acceptance.

I believe the Cleavers said it best when June said, "Ward, you're no better than your son."
-"That's right, but what's wrong with letting my son be better than I was?"