Happy Birthday, Nathan! May 22, 2008

Eight years… where did they go?  It seems like yesterday we found out we were having our first child.  We were so idealistic.  I attended Bradley Method childbirth classes.  No drugs for me, thank you very much!  They didn’t have drugs a hundred years ago, so why do we need them now?  No one is putting a needle in my spine!   I was so naive.

Thank God for modern medicine.  Yes, there are abuses and corruption just like with everything else.  However, our firstborn and I would most likely not have survived without intervention.  At 32 weeks, my blood pressure spiked and I was put on bedrest.  A week later, Nathan and I were in danger.  I was sent to the hospital not knowing that I would have my child that day – not knowing that I would not experience labor at all, let alone natural childbirth.  It all happened so fast.  There wasn’t time for steroids for his lungs, either.  It was May 22nd.  He was due July 8th.

After numerous attempts at a spinal block (I was swollen even around my spinal cord from the preeclampsia), it seemed like Nathan was out in no time.  His cries were the most wonderful sound I’ve ever heard.  Unfortunately, he grew very quiet and it was evident that he was in distress.  They transported my 4 1/2 pound baby son that night to a different hospital.  They didn’t transport me, and we were in too much shock to find out why.

I finally saw my sweet boy three days later, after having a hormonal breakdown and demanding to be released.  They didn’t like my blood pressure, but I informed them it would not get any better until I could see my baby.  It would be three more days until I could hold him.

Nathan has been such a gift.  Under his boyish roughness, he has a keen emotional and spiritual sensitivity.  He loves to build with Legos and K’nex, read, play computer games, ride his bike, swim, and is completely taken with Star Wars.

It took me a long time to heal emotionally from the trauma surrounding Nathan’s birth.  The thing I had the hardest time with was the 3-day separation.  I was really letting God have it one day about those three days, and His words came in His usual wonderfulness.  He said I understand three days.  I never had anything more to say about it.  There will always be an ache, but Father deeply touched my heart in that moment.

 

Nathan’s 1st Christmas           Cool dude!  His Uncle Rick went to Hawaii.  That’s Brianna’s pink ukulele.

Still Breathing May 22, 2008

It has been an interesting week. 

Fred had his MRI yesterday.  It was his fourth attempt, and he did it!  I was very proud of him.  He was able to get past the claustrophobia and pain.  He will get the results tomorrow.  This is his third week off from work.  Note to self: take some deep breaths.

On another note, there is something about our dog these days that she insists on having medical issues at the same time as the humans in this family.  Our dog (Allie) had an attack of pancreatitis in late January when Brianna (our daughter) was sick and waiting to have her surgery.  We had a vet bill, to say the least.  Then we had a people hospital bill. Dog and daughter recovered fully, but I discovered a hematoma in the dog’s ear two nights ago.  She had surgery today…..Thank God for people who let you post-date checks. 

Someone who will remain unnamed suggested recently that we have Allie put down since she is 11 1/2 years old and is costing us money now.  The thing is, there is nothing seriously wrong with her.  She’s just having a few issues.  She is not a car for heaven’s sakes!  She has been with me since before I met Fred. 

Our third fun thing this week was the storm last night.  It didn’t seem that bad here until two freakish strikes of lightening that just happened to be so close that the thunder was simultaneous.  One of those strikes fried our cable modem and killed our internet phone thing (sorry, not a tech person).  Cha-ching!!!  Well, we’re back online anyway. 

So, I’m going to go take some deep breaths.  Really, though, I’m not as consumed by this as I would have been in the past.  I’m not terribly comfortable right now, but I don’t remember being promised a comfortable life.  If anyone knows a verse promising a comfortable life, please send it to me.  That way I can remind God about it and try to manipulate Him.  Ha!  Old Tina trying to re-surface.  It’s funny how tough it is to get her to go away.

 

This is Allie in January with the IV tube in her paw.  She was out in our one and only snow this year.

 

Yearnings May 17, 2008

Jennifer wrote this in my comments section from this post:

I CONSTANTLY…EVERYDAY have to remind myself that what I see around me is an illusion. Stability, security, happiness, health, teeth past 35, …it’s all a vapor. (Especially the teeth out here where I live!) Trying to break free from the matrix of it all is like trying not to get wet when you’re in the pool isn’t it?! That’s why sometimes I think it would be nice to go join John Michael Talbot at his Hermitage. I won’t, but it seems like it would be easier.

I had heard of John Michael Talbot, but didn’t know much about him.  As I was responding to Jennifer, I googled him and found an article about his Hermitage.  You can read it here.  They apparently had a fire there just a couple of weeks ago.  It sounds like they lost a lot materially.  It is all a vapor.

I sometimes yearn for the days when I was growing up in the country.  We were away from traffic, people, pollution, noise.  But the idea that we were untouched out there really was an illusion.  My parents still had bills to pay, jobs, children to raise, and lots of stress.  If I lived that far out right now, gasoline costs would be brutal.  Running away doesn’t solve anything.

Oh, but I would love to break free!  In the world, not of it.  It seems so impossible.  Getting wet in a pool is a bit inevitable.

Deep Thoughts About Hair May 16, 2008

This is my beautiful niece, Abby.  She is 2 1/2 and had just had her first “big girl” hair cut and style.  Which got me to thinking – what is it with women and their hair?  It’s just absurd how much we let this feature that we have little control over dictate so much of our lives (sorry Kent!).

As I’ve stated before, I grew up on a Pennsylvania dairy farm.  There were only Caucasian people for miles around. None of them had hair like mine.  They didn’t know how to “do” my hair, so it was pretty bad for a while.  My hair is one of those genetic anomalies that fascinates me – though it didn’t used to!  I’ve posted pictures of my kids on this blog before.  They both have curly hair, but nothing like my mop.  I have more in common with my niece’s hair, and her father is Nigerian.

I spent over 20 years of my life torturing the life out of my hair.  The hours drying it straight, scorching it smooth – time I will never get back.  All because some silly kids made fun of me.  It wasn’t until nearly five years ago when I was about to turn 30 and taking stock of my life that I realized that I really was never going to wake up with straight hair.  My hair would never spill down my back and blow sexily in the breeze.  I can grow it and grow it and it just curls up.  Eventually it overpowers my face.  (Oh, I must throw in here that my husband had begged me from the first week of our marriage to stop straightening it.  He was tired of me being late for everything.)

So what brought about this deep post?  My sister flat-ironed my hair yesterday.  It took her an hour to get it to look like “everyone” else’s.  After all of that work, my son said (word for word) Mom, put your hair back the way it was. It looks stupid like that!  My sister wanted to throttle him after all that work.  I wanted to hug him! 

 

Stressing May 14, 2008

I am stressing…. a bit. 

Fred hurt his back and has been out of work since May 5th.  He is a salary employee and he does have sick days and vacation days.  However, if he ends up needing short-term disability, he will only be paid 65% of his salary.  We are not prepared for that possibility.

The most frustrating part of all of this is that we still don’t know for sure what is wrong with him.  We’ve had three attempts at an MRI.  Fred only lasted about 30 seconds for the first two before his claustrophobia got the better of him.  The third time he had some happy pills and was doing great, but the pain of the pinched nerve became too intense.  He really tried, but we only made it through two scans. 

And what is it with those MRI machines?  That is some of the most irritating noise I’ve ever heard!

So, back to me stressing.  I was trying to ignore it but I’ve realized that I have four books I started and I haven’t gotten anywhere with them.  I’m forgetting things and I’m not sleeping well. 

The thing is, I know the Truth.  I know that God clothes the lilies and feeds the birds and loves us even more, and we will be fine.  It’s just that his idea of fine and my idea tend to sometimes be two different things.  I’m not entirely sure how to even pray about this because I have become painfully aware that His ways are not my ways and His thoughts not my thoughts.  My ways and thoughts tend to have far more to do with self preservation and keeping my stuff. 

One day at a time, Tina.  That’s why I battle panic disorder.  My mind checks into every negative future possibility and I forget to just breathe in this moment.  So now I’m going to go breathe.

The Gift of The Shack May 11, 2008

I found this wonderful post this morning by Rob Horton. 

The post by Rob I am referring to today deals with The Shack.  I am saddened by major names in the evangelical world attacking the book.  That is one of the very things that caused me to leave that particular camp.  Be afraid, be very afraid! seems to be their trumpeting cry.  Funny how the Scriptures are full of the phrase fear not, yet those who seem to think they have Christianity right are telling everyone to fear.

Anyway, it is my opinion that those who have trashed the book either have not really read it, or have read it through their paradigm of an angry god.  I don’t want the angry god anymore – the one who is always waiting for me to make a mistake so that he can whack me.  No thanks. 

I am certainly not against differing opinions.  Not everyone will like this book, and that is fine.  We’re all different.  What sickens me is that people who know that they have great influence over others will use that influence to dismiss what the Spirit of God is doing because they don’t understand it.  They use that influence to keep fear mongering alive. 

The Shack is nothing to fear.  For those who yearn for their Father – a Father they can really trust, who long for real relationship, who are tired of the status quo, I believe that The Shack is a gift.  It brought me to a place of trust in God that I had never experienced before.  I will never be the same.  Chuck Colson and Mark Driscoll can’t take that away.

Some Things I’ve Learned This Week May 8, 2008

1. Pushing a cart full of groceries through a parking lot while looking backward to make sure your kids are with you is not a good idea.  I learned that after hitting a shiny black pick-up truck whose driver was sitting in it.  He was quick to inspect for damage, and I thankfully only hit the bumper.  I did feel like a fool, though.
2. All kids do not possess that switch that suddenly flips when they are 6 or 7 that causes sudden modesty.  My son will be 8 in two weeks and I have to implore him to stop streaking through the house.
3. Never leave diaper rash cream within reach of a 3-year-old who is supposed to be napping.  I found her naked and wearing the cream from head to toe like lotion. 
4. Girls do not potty train faster than boys.  It was a formula I had hoped for but I have discovered that it’s like all other formulas.  It’s an illusion.  Brianna has little interest in using the potty, and I’m growing weary of toddler poop.
5. Spending three days digging flower beds and planting when you aren’t used to it will cause pain.
6. And finally, birds have sex.  My friend thought it was hysterical that I was raised on a dairy farm and didn’t know this.  I’m not sure what bovines have to do with birds, but this seriously never occurred to me until the spectacle in my back yard the other day.  Okay, I’m a little slow.  I had never really thought through the words the birds and the bees.

I hope that you feel as well-informed as I do now!

Free To Enjoy the Moment May 5, 2008

Since I am reflecting back to a decade ago while celebrating our anniversary, I realized that I had forgotten to list another place I had traveled to on my post from April 28th.  Considering the importance of that particular trip, I can’t believe I forgot about it!

Ten years ago at this time, Fred and I were on our honeymoon at the Grand Cayman.  It was absolutely beautiful, and I remember talking about how we could live there.  We walked the beach late at night and and basked in the laid-back atmosphere.  We decided before we left that we would be back for our ten year anniversary.

Fast forward 10 years.  We spent our anniversary at The Melting Pot eating fondu and drinking wine.  That was a major splurge for us.  We were without our kids for 20 entire hours!  

Father has done some major work in me.  Not so long ago I would have ruined our anniversary by dwelling on the fact that we didn’t stick to the plan of going back to that tropical paradise.  My expectations would have destroyed any amount of joy possible. 

I know that I am still plagued frequently by expectations I have placed on people and situations – so very damaging.  But today I’m experiencing such a sensation of freedom.  Freedom to live in the moment before me without trying to manipulate it.  It’s a beautiful feeling and I’m grateful for it.  It might only last for two minutes, but I’ll take it!

Anniversary Musings May 2, 2008

Ten years ago today….

I was such a different person.  I was 24 and without a clue.  Now I’m older and even more without a clue!    The main difference is that I thought back then that I knew so much.

I was fully submitted to my “local church” and what that it entails.  I was fairly convinced that our pastor walked on water.  I was also as committed as a woman can be to the idea that we are supposed to live in a patriarchy, especially as followers of Christ…  icky! 

Ten years ago I was healing from a few years of walking without Jesus.  It’s never a good idea to attempt that.  We are hell-bent on our own distruction without following Him.  I had the scars to prove it.

Ten years ago today, May 2nd, I married Fred.  He is my polar opposite in almost every way, which is the most aggravating and probably one of the best things about our marriage.  We were both very polarized when we married, but we’ve gradually, painfully, inched toward the middle.

The last several months have admittedly been difficult.  He has been going through some things vocationally, and his wife has become less cooperative at home.  I have discovered that I have my own opinions and they usually don’t line up with his.  Now that my patriarchal viewpoints have been smashed, I don’t have to pretend to agree with him anymore.

So would I change that event ten years ago?  No.  He has been by my side through thick and thin.  We’ve weathered infertility problems, money worries, illness in our children, my panic and agoraphobia, and just being flawed human beings.  There are times when I might want to shake his teeth out (30 minutes ago), but he is irreplacable. 

Happy anniversary to us.  May we journey together for many more decades.