I gave up staying awake for Lent.

You think I'm joking, but I'm not. I debated whether or not to write this, because I'm all for keeping hush-hush about fasting, but curiosity to see if anyone else shares my problem won out.


I hate to sleep.


Ever since I left for college, I have bemoaned and fought against the fact that humans have to spend an entire third of their lives sleeping, when there is so much to see and do! Why oh why would God give us a life and then require us spend a huge part of it with our eyes shut? This was what I thought, and so for the past five years or so, I have slept as little as I possibly could-- staying up until my eyelids were drooping, and then going to bed and instantly crashing. Rinse and repeat. I can count on my hands the number of times I've gone to bed before midnight these past few years. If you've ever gotten a 2 a.m. comment on your blog from me, yep, that was me just staying awake.

So when Lent rolled around this year, I racked my brains for something to give up. Obviously, giving up sugar was out of the question. :-P Cigarettes? Never smoked. Blogging? I don't feel like that's something I struggle with. My defiance against God's natural law? Uh oh, I'm in trouble.

So my Lenten sacrifice this year is going to bed before midnight. It's an unconventional sacrifice, but it has led to some unexpected things already...

Stay tuned for Part 2!

Birth Control: how having a baby changed my opinion

Imagine this: one day, someone very dear to you comes up one day, and says, "Look! I have a gift for you!" You take one look at it and say, "I don't want it. Give it to me later." But it doesn't stop there. You glue up your mailbox so he can't mail it, and you purposely time things so that you avoid opportunities to receive it. You arm yourself with chemicals that will destroy that gift, should it come near. You also load up on excuses, like, "I can't afford the upkeep on your present." "First, I want to do XYZ before I enjoy your gift." "What if I'm not a good recipient?" Then, one day, maybe years later, you call your friend up and tell him you will accept his present now. You open it up, and OMG!!!!! It is the best thing that has ever happened to you in your life!!!!! You sit there, holding your gift, and think to yourself, Why on earth didn't I accept this gift sooner?


This was my experience with birth control.

It was all too easy for me to spout off, "CHILDREN ARE A GIFT OF THE LORD, PSALM ONE-TWENTY-SEVEN THREE!" and "GOD PROVIDES!" But you know what? We delayed starting a family mainly out of fear. What if I can't finish school? What if we have to move? What if insurance doesn't cover the birth? (it didn't, and we lived to tell about it) What if? What if? What if? We practiced NFP, which is by far the least aggressive way to control fertility, but the truth remains: we actively avoided pregnancy for nearly two years.

Now, on the other side of things, I tremble a little to see what we did. It's easy to deny life to a theoretical baby, but now that I see he is a real, breathing child with a little personality and a unique face, I realize that we were playing god with a human life.

We were also in effect telling God, "We know best when we should receive our blessings." I'm not going to lie; having a baby is AWESOME. Baby D is a sweet little person who has stretched me in a zillion ways and provided so many smiles and wow moments. Now, when Baby D looks at me and just breaks out into the biggest, happiest grin that says, "You're the world to me!" the thought hits me between the eyes: I actually purposely cheated myself out of this blessing for years?

Choosing to be open to life is a SCARY thing. Even with all the NICU drama and the financial woes, the most terrifying part of this parenthood journey has been choosing to leave our fertility to God. Actually, do you know the catalyst for our change of heart? It was realizing that material happiness might be a long time coming for us. Buying a house, traveling the world, completely repaying student loans, owning a car with a working gas gauge (LOL!)-- it could take years for all that to happen, if they happen at all. So why lose this decade, always looking ahead to when things will get better-- when we can have what really matters and enjoy the time that we are in right now?


So now, I'm trying to figure out where this leaves us. There are signs that my fertility might be returning soon (thanks for nothing, Ecological Breastfeeding! Hmph.), so I have to take a long, hard look at where we go from here. All I know is, even after actually knowing all the pain and work that children bring, I am even less sympathetic to the desire to avoid creating a human being than before.

Just What I Needed

I'm certain that the people you meet are not accidental. Every meeting, even the small, random conversations with total strangers, are orchestrated by God, I've always thought.  Most times, I can't understand why and maybe never will, but no exchange is meaningless. Anyway, I've been a bit blue lately. Not a day goes by that I'm not struck with sadness about the events surrounding Baby D's birth; and some days, it's a little more than that. A birth story, an article, news that someone's in labor, or even sometimes just looking at Baby D will set me into a deep funk for days. Mainly I harbor a deep bitterness against the current medical system and worry quite a bit about the next pregnancy, and I'm trying to work through all that. Doing some research a couple evenings ago, I wasn't too surprised to learn that oftentimes NICU parents suffer Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome, and I also would not be surprised to learn that I have a mild case.

Anyways, I went to church this morning. Baby D, who normally loves the opening music, inexplicably started wailing halfway through, so I carted him off to the nursing room to calm him down. After I got him all sorted out, I went to wait the foyer waiting to go back in the sanctuary, and met another woman sitting there. Baby D is a conversation magnet, so before long, I found out that this lady had gone through three C-sections, starting with her oldest, who was unexpectedly born a month early. And she was so... normal. Happy, even. It was just nice to see someone a few years on the other side of the trauma of an unexpected birth, a C-section, and a probable NICU stay (I'm just guessing, the baby being a preemie and all). She even went on to have more C-section births, and guess what? Her life went on.

It was a few minute's exchange, but I found it healing. 

Did the lady know? Probably not.

Was it random chance that I left the sanctuary and met her? Probably not.

Do you know if you are pregnant?

My supervisor at work yesterday was telling me about a show called, I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant. It's a reality show all about pregnant women who don't know they're pregnant until they are IN the hospital, giving birth. My initial reaction was, "Ummm... how do you NOT know you're pregnant?! ...And they find enough of these clueless women for a whole TV series?!"

But I've been thinking about it. It's hard for me to imagine ignoring the swelling belly and the thrashing baby playing football with my innards. I was able to feel the baby move around 16 weeks, which is considerably earlier than most first-time moms can boast.

But... perhaps it's because I've been watching for it.


It's hard to miss things when you are expecting them and keeping an eye and an ear cocked in that direction at all times. When Adam and I decided to start a family, every little twitch, bubble and feeling in my body was suddenly significant. Surely this must mean I'm pregnant!, I thought of anything that felt different from the norm.

It reminds me of my younger self, a girl who firmly believed that the supernatural happened everywhere, everyday, and that I could see it, if only I looked. And guess what? I saw it. Now I'm a bit older and more preoccupied with bills and grocery lists and laundry. I don't see the supernatural as much anymore...

...but maybe it's because I'm not looking?

What I'm giving up for Lent

When I was a kid, I usually gave up candy for Lent. Last year, I went without cream in my coffee for about three days, until I decided that no loving God would make someone drink coffee without cream. That's just inhumane.

This year, I'm not doing the usual dietary restrictions, since I'm pregnant and you'll never know what I'll HAVE to eat RIGHT NOW. So I'm doing two different non-food-related things.

First, I'm cutting out all computer/internet usage, except for half an hour to get the business end of things done (checking email, finishing up this NaBloPoMo thing). This is my first day, and so far, it has had its unique blessings and troubles. This morning, instead of checking Blogger over breakfast (Adam's usually not up yet), I read a devotional book instead. It was a great way to start the day! On the flip side, I have been sooooo bored at work. I'm going to need to pick up some discreet hobby. Or file my nails, since I hear that's what receptionists are supposed to do.

The second thing I'm doing is a character restriction, if you could call it that. I have noticed lately how easily preoccupied I am with what we don't have, so my other Lenten sacrifice is the right to complain, whether internally or to others, and to be happy with what we do have. It's time for an attitude of gratitude!

It won't be easy, but I'm pretty sure it'll be better than going without cream in my coffee.

The Church of Google

The past five years in my college town, I've been searching for a home church.

Please don't think that I'm an extremely picky person! I've had two years of carlessness, and then semester-long stays at churches where doctrine was either really weird or not taught at all. And then there was the last five months, where my choices were to either work Sunday mornings or be homeless. :-P

*sigh*

I'm really not that picky. I just a want a place where the Word of God is explained, and I don't feel lost in a crowd of thousands. And, as a musician, it's very important to me that the music is quality.

But where to start in the so-called "Buckle of the Bible Belt"? My city easily has over one thousand churches! It is possible to attend a different church every single week for years!

So Saturday night, I decided to throw fate to the wind. I told Adam, "The first church that comes up when I google '(name of city) church' is where we'll go tomorrow!"

Fortunately, I didn't get anything weird.

And, surprisingly, it wasn't one of the several megachurches in the area (not that I have anything against megachurches. They're just not my thing). I was intrigued. So we went.

Turns out, it was one of the best services I've ever been to in this town! The congregation was sweet, the sermon actually required that I crack my Bible open, and *gasp* they even had a little orchestra!! Be still, my beating heart. We'll be going back!

All the same, it was a little awkward writing on the visitor's card what influenced me to be there: "Google Search".

Why this Christmas will be very, very different

Whew! A lot happened this last week! Since last Tuesday, I have

• Cleaned the entire house
• Been the hostess with the mostess at Thanksgiving-- and I didn't even burn the turkey!
• Gone on a two-day, fifteen-mile hiking trip. Yep, I am now painfully aware of EVERY muscle in my legs.
• Celebrated six months with my favorite husband!
• Decorated the house for Christmas
  

Speaking of Christmas, this will be our first Christmas away from home. My mind still hasn't grasped the fact that Christmas is not going to occur at my family's home. No familiar Christmas caroling. No familiar Advent rituals. No familiar Christmas fudge. That may be the worst part. I can't even find my stocking, which was supposed to be here with us. I don't even get to wake up on Christmas morning to find my now-lost stocking magically filled by Santa! I'm going to really miss all that coal! This is all very important to me, but this year will be different.

Basically, what is going to happen this year, is that I may actually be forced to discard the meaning I have attached to Christmas- warm, fuzzy traditions and time with the family- and really find the meaning in the Manger. Who'da thunk?

I'm excited about that.

Not to mention, I FINALLY get to have Christmas with Adam! Now, where is that mistletoe...