Stuff

As we prepare to take our second Christmas trip to the mainland since living in Puerto Rico, we're reminded again of how freeing it can be to not afford a big Christmas. Last year, we were pregnant, living on a little income from the office and supplementing the rest with savings. We told family and friends that everything would be homemade, and we worked for weeks making gifts we hoped weren't cheesy or useless. I knitted scarves, modge-podged pictures (with Elmer's glue, of course-Modge Podge brand is entirely too expensive), painted tote bags, made homemade hot chocolate mix, meat marinades, and more. My husband made wood backings for the pictures and really legit rubber band guns. It was so fun and refreshing to work together and give things we'd put a lot of work into.

This year, we're making a few things, but we decided on an extremely small budget person that meant about one small thing each. What some would think is a burden has really proven to be liberating in our house.

This season is unusual as we prayerfully wait to see what The Lord has in store for us next. It is possible that at some point in 2014 we may be Texas bound once more. So, along with the desire to keep Christmas gifts simple and work with very little funds, this moving possibility has frozen any non-essential buying. We are not military and no one pays for our moves, so there's the issue of checked luggage cost and weight, along with carry-on luggage stipulations.  Add shipping costs and we would begin to see the debt we have incurred while living here get worse. We prefer to deal with those things as little as possible, so we basically get rid of the majority of what we have. Surprisingly, that's actually pretty freeing as well. It bites down the temptation to shop with money we don’t have, and it makes sure we rarely get attached to stuff. We are able to meet needs of others by giving things away or selling for very little. Then, when we move, God provides. So many times in our marriage (and our entire lives) we’ve been reminded of how much stuff doesn’t really matter.

I know we are fairly minimalist; I also know not everyone is made for this lifestyle. Don't get me wrong, I like my Kitchenaid, Sanuks, and Mary Kay makeup just like the next girl; however, I recognize that those things are not necessities. If something were to happen that takes them away, I’d be sad, but I’d be fine. I suppose this reflection is happening as I watch Christmas shopping take place and attempt to prepare my heart and mind for a trip back to the states. It’s such a different lifestyle than the one we’ve made here. It’s so busy. So complex. So much money. So much stuff. This is not judgmental or even a charge to change, it’s just a reminder to myself and to others to back away from the madness for a moment, recognize how blessed we are to be able to buy and receive gifts at all, and realize that if we let ourselves get sucked into the pressure of fitting a mold it all becomes one of Solomon’s favorite words: meaningless.

This Christmas season, let’s remember together that gifts are wonderful and fun, but the majority of them don’t matter at all. Let go of the pressure of having and giving the best stuff. Don’t worry about impressing the in-laws, the best friend, or the cousins. This Christmas, let’s remember why Christmas exists to begin with. Remember that Christmas celebrates that Baby Jesus was born in order to die to take on the sins of the world. Give to the needy…to celebrate His sacrifice. Enjoy time with family and friends even if you don’t necessarily get along with them…to honor His teaching. Consider the possibility of simplifying even just a little bit…to imitate His lifestyle.

Be thankful for the stuff, but realize if it’s beyond basic needs, its abundance, and, frankly, it doesn’t really matter.

From our shore to yours, Merry Christmas!

Lil' Thanksgiving and Grandparent Reflection

     Grandma: Less than five feet tall, her attitude and personality emits much stronger than her perfume ever will.  She is a diva…always has been and always will be. She will not leave the house without blue eye shadow, pink blush, lipstick, and a bow for her hair that she swears is still blonde. Her clothes and language are inappropriate at times, but who’s going to change that now? When my dad was in the Air Force, Grandma travelled to many of the places he lived. He is her only child, and they still talk at least once a week—around four o’clock every Sunday afternoon. Even though we are terribly different, until living here, I hadn’t realized how much of my life she has influenced. My husband says that now he understands more about my mannerisms and oddities than he ever did before.
     Grandpa: He is a very proud, stubborn man. He, typically, doesn’t like help; nevertheless, he has adored John in this time of us living here. I’ve never met a man who can pick a mango, avocado, or coconut the way Grandpa does. My husband thinks I may have inherited a little fruit and veg intuition; I hope he’s right. Grandpa is a Korean War vet, an ex-sheet metal worker (a job that cost him five of his fingers…three on one mano, two on the other), and the one thumb he has was very green at one time. For gardening, that is. Since we’ve lived here, he’s learned to appreciate the magic that is a smart phone. When he doesn’t know something, he asks if our phones can figure it out. Our favorite quote of Grandpa’s we frequently say is: “The future is now.” He says it in absolute seriousness, and it’s basically ridiculously hilarious.
     As we enter into a time of Thanksgiving tomorrow, we’re reminded not to take people or things for granted.  Our God tells us to “Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). We believe we belong to Christ, so (even though they make it difficult sometimes) we are thankful for my grandparents. 

     One unusual day, Grandma, baby boy, and I were walking home from her eye doctor appointment because it went too long. John had no choice but to take the car to work. Grandma hadn't walked home from town in a long time, so it was quite an adventure. Baby boy was in the jogging stroller; I controlled it with my left hand while I steadied Grandma with my right. During the walk she said, "I have walked down this road hundreds of times...to school, to work, to go shopping; but now I can't. The road didn't change much, but I can't." She’s right. The road hasn’t changed much; she is the one that has changed. Even though she may not like it, its life, and it’s okay. She still has plenty of things to be thankful for!
     Unfortunately, in their daily lives, my grandparents don’t necessarily embrace an attitude of gratefulness. Even so, the one time I’ve ever witnessed them become potentially emotionally was last year on Thanksgiving. We sat at the dining room table (which NEVER happens), and we put all of the food in pretty bowls before eating. Grandma said that before we ate we needed to give thanks. John and I thought this meant a prayer, but no one closed their eyes, so we weren’t sure.
     Very quickly and a little awkwardly, they said they were thankful for John and Hollie being in Puerto Rico…

and I will never forget that.

God is doing crazy things in our lives again that leave us uncertain about where our journey in the near-future will take us. Despite the frustrations, challenges, and emotions that have come with living so closely to such unique and stubborn old folks, I will always be grateful for the time we have shared with them. If there is anything I have learned during this adventure, it’s that just like the road in Cabo Rojo…the road of our lives never changes. The difference is that we haven’t walked it yet, and each curve is a new turn that doesn’t allow us to see the other side until we get there. Praise God that He knows every path for every life, and, although no life is perfect or easy, He has “worked all things for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). When we know the maker of all things, it’s a little easier to be thankful for all circumstances.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Stay-At-Home-Mom's New Take on Purpose

Before my senior year in high school I was able to go a world Acteen’s conference. An Acteen is almost like a Christian girl scout; all of you good Southern Baptist church goers will know what I mean. I wasn’t an Acteen at the time, I just happened to be where God wanted me when He wanted me there, and I was given a free trip. On that trip, I decided I wanted to give my life to God’s ministry. I wanted to travel. Learn and teach different cultures. I wanted to do whatever He wanted me to do. I wanted purpose. Well, I’ve tried, but I would be lying if I said I always feel like I’m succeeding. 

My first international mission trip was to Mexico. It was a medical mission trip with my dad and a group from our church. God met me there, and I felt He confirmed I could do this thing full time. Then, in college, I had the opportunity to teach English in South Korea. It was a school trip, not a church one, but God used it mightily in my life nonetheless. A few years ago, I was invited as a chaperone on a mission trip in Kenya. There, I was able to work with our church’s students, teach orphaned children of the country, and meet one of our little girls that my husband and I sponsor through Compassion International. Again, God came and walked with me. Now, I have lived a very simple life in Puerto Rico for a little over a year. It’s been validation that I can live with little or live with much (never quite lived with much by our culture’s standards, but I know that I have!). God has never left me. He’s never abandoned me, but still, I find myself wondering where the line lies between seeking to do more in His name or…just seeking to do more.

I’ve never really been a quiet person, and, alongside that, I’ve always had an audience. My junior year of high school I started giving speeches and performing on stages. The podium followed me to college where it was the focus of my degree. Directly after college, I taught high school speech and English. There, I had the classroom filled with seven sets of 25-30 growing minds on any given day. Since leaving the classroom, I have this. The keyboard. And whoever you are. The few that read my humble little scribbles. Besides that, the real, in-the-flesh people I daily interact with are: one baby, two old people, and a husband. I have wonderful friends here and a wonderful church, but they’re only weekenders because I have no vehicle to use to get me to any of them Monday-Friday. Looking at my life, it’s like I MUST be in communication with people at all times! I mean, that’s what I thought I was supposed to do right? Work with people and help Christ’s ministry?! That’s my purpose…right?

But, wait. What if it’s not right or wrong. I may be hardwired to be a people person, an extrovert, a social butterfly…but I am made in His image, and He’s so much more than that. He loves fellowship and passion, yes, but He also loves silence. We find Jesus off by Himself time and time again in Scripture. There are only four small books that document 33 years, so it’s probably a good guess He stayed low for some of that time…maybe a lot of that time. I think God is drawing me (though I wish He’d do it already!) to a simple life with an Audience of One. Himself. I am a social being, but I must become satisfied with the fellowship I have the opportunity to be a part of and not feel as though God has taken me from all I thought He created me to be. Right now, in this time in my life, He created me to primarily be wife, mom, and granddaughter. That doesn’t mean I am not in His hands and doing His work; it means I must change my vision of how I pictured that work to be. You’d think I’d know that consistently by now, but I don’t. That’s probably why He keeps catching me off my guard. It’s to keep me on my toes.

I have given my life to God’s ministry. I have travelled. And I have taught and experienced different cultures. I will do more of all of those things in the future as well. This life is not about success or failure; it’s about purpose. Right now I don’t have to be on a different continent working with orphans to be doing ministry. I don’t need a classroom to make an impact on the world. Because, at this moment, God is working on me, and I must learn to be content with that. Even though my education, my culture, and my mind question my current choices and lifestyle; I do have a purpose. You do too, whoever you are. That purpose is Jesus.

I See it in a Different Light

“That’s not who I am anymore. ‘Cause there’s no after without before. I see it in a different light. Now I understand the story of my life. Why you brought me right here where I am tonight. I see it in a different light.”
Different Light by Big Daddy Weave

I LOVE these lyrics. Every time I look at my handsome almost-five-month-old son, take a shower with warm water, or finish a two-mile run, I see it in a different light. I remember the fear-filled days during pregnancy, heating up water in an electric kettle for showers, and the weeks directly before and after labor when I just wanted my body back…and I’m so glad they all happened. Sometimes I feel like I wasted so many tears, but, wow, what those tears and times taught me. I’m so, so, so very grateful for what the Lord has done. I certainly will not lie and say that I can’t imagine my life any other way because I can (having air conditioning, for example); however, I would not be the person I am today if my life had been any other way.

Had to add the growing pics!

For the past five months, I’ve been getting myself back together. It took a while to realize that we have the God-given ability to fit in time for the important things. First thing for me was to get this body back. Probably not the best of priorities, I know, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be able to climb our stairs without feeling like I was going to pass out, and the like. My goal was to be close to my old self before my big brother came to visit me (and I am fitting in my pre-preggers pants, in case you’re wondering!). Then, I realized how far I had strayed in my relationship with my God in, LITERALLY, one of the most life-changing times I’ve ever experienced. Silly me to not depend on Him during that one; I’m glad I’ve got that back in order now. Better than it was, anyway. Now, it’s time to grab back onto the hobbies that I enjoy. I’m writing again, reading books for fun, and I just started knitting some baby beanies for the winter trips coming up ahead. 

With Gammy in May

With Nana and Papi in June

With Aunt Eka in July

With Uncle E in August

My schedule and daily routines have drastically changed since pre-baby times. John’s been blessed with an opportunity to work for another doctor in Ponce (a town about 45 minutes away from here) in the afternoons, so his office in Hormigueros is only opened on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Ironically, our office has been ridiculously busy since the change! People want what they can only have sometimes, I guess. What that means for our family though, is that I am without a vehicle every afternoon and two mornings a week. Every AM that I’m home I do laundry so that it can hang (hopefully!) before rain comes in the afternoon. I try to sweep daily and mop every other day since the little man is rolling EVERYWHERE now, and there is no stopping him! I have finally managed to create a routine that seems to work in keeping all other parts of the house lived in, but tidy and clean. During afternoon naps on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I try to work on insurance paperwork from the morning to not get behind on things like I did after baby boy’s arrival. My job is to take care of my home, my baby, my husband, and the office paperwork. It’s a simple life, in that regard. I’ve committed to always seeing my grandparents on Fridays, and, if she’s up to it, I try to have the morning reserved to take my Grandma to wherever she needs to go: farmacia, Econo, the Kentucky (KFC), etc. Other than Friday, I try to make my trip to their house around 4:00pm (avena time) on days when baby boy is awake and it’s not raining. I feel guilty sometimes because I’m limited now in the help that I can give, but I am comforted that I’m still here for emergencies, and that’s what truly confirmed this move in the first place. 

There are days filled with pity parties. Our toilet seat is broken. There’s been a serious heat wave for about two weeks. I’m car-less. Nevertheless, the majority of the time, I see it in a different light. I’m so very glad God offers that light to see things in. God bless.  

A Birth Story

[Note to readers: This is not written for the “normal” audience. I believe in positive birth stories…hardships and all. This is to be one those. I’ve included pictures and things I wouldn’t normally to encourage any pregnant mom considering natural birth (so if you don’t wish to see, please don’t scroll down). Our bodies were made capable of far more than we can imagine; in any times of doubt, remember that. Also, this is my account. It will probably change as I revise, remember, and am reminded of other parts of the story. For now though, it is sufficient. Lastly, I did not write this to be political or to debate in any way. Please do not comment if it is going to be negative. Thanks!]

May 6, 2013 was my dad’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Dad! It was also the day my mother-in-law, Sandy, flew into Puerto Rico.  We were all hoping the baby inside me would wait just that long so his Gammy could be here when he made his debut. He did a great job!

May 8, 2013 was thrift store day! It was the day before my baby’s due date, so we decided on a last hurrah. Sandy and I travelled all day to eat Krispy Kreme donuts for breakfast, stop at several thrift stores throughout the island, and enjoy lunch at a cute café by Ramey base for lunch. When Sandy and I picked up my husband from work we discussed doing Zumba before dinner. A little laugh at natural induction, if you will. Well, all I have to say about that laughing is…dancing to self-induce is no joke!

May 9, 2013 at 12:00am-ish I had to go tinkle as I did many times a night by that point in my pregnancy. I saw bloody show and I felt a chill go over my whole body. “How am I going to get back to sleep?...Should I tell my husband?...I wonder how long things will take to get started…” All flooded my mind. When I pulled the covers back over me, I decided to tell John that his son would be here within the next day or two. He was excited, but told me to try and go back to sleep in case it was that night. About thirty minutes later I felt like I had to go to bathroom again. I made it all the way to the doorway of our bedroom and realized it wasn’t my bladder that was calling; my water was breaking! I started yelling, “I don’t know what to do! I’m making a mess!” Sandy came out of the room she was sleeping in and told me to just stay where I was; they would clean it up. We laughed about it for a while.

There were no questions then! I was instructed by my doula and midwife to call them if my water broke, so call we did. Mild contractions followed, and I was SO excited because it was gametime! [I will say I made a big mistake at that moment. When I felt my contractions mildly, I should have EATEN! John has said that in the future he will force me to eat at the beginning of labor no matter how it starts because, contrary to how I thought I would be, I ended up not wanting to eat or drink almost the entire time. Lesson 1: Eat before you go into labor!] I was extremely blessed during the first stages of labor. I had an absolutely wonderful team and an amazing supportive husband with me the entire time, and, although at times things felt unbearable, in my current memory I look back and feel blessed. I had a shuffle of Phil Wickam, Steven Curtis Chapman, Need to Breathe, and Chris Tomlin playing on Pandora. My midwife and my husband took turns putting pressure on my lower back—which was divine. I had the freedom to move wherever I felt liked, and believe me, I didn’t know what way I wanted to be until my body was already moving me there. I have no recollection of ever knowing what time it was or where people were in my house. It was a zone. A meditation of sorts. I kept telling myself to be positive, stay calm, I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. My eyes were probably closed 90% of the time although I don’t recall ever truly sleeping.

Sometime in the later morning I remembered the chair in the living room, and I felt like that would be the most comfortable place to be. I remember being surprised that my living room was so bright after being in the dim bedroom for so long. It felt like the nighttime passed very quickly. My midwife checked me and told me I was 100% effaced and completely dilated. I could push whenever I wanted. Sandy texted people to say that baby boy would probably be here soon, and my midwife warmed towels waiting for his arrival. But alas…pushing. Pushing holds the only true negative recollection in my mind. I do admit I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing. My contractions weren’t making me push yet, so when I tried it just didn’t feel right.  That was the true beginning of the journey…I ended up pushing for a while with no baby in sight. I rested for a little while (if you can call it that), and then it was recommended that I have a tiny Pitocin drip. After looking into the eyes of everyone in the room one at a time, I agreed. I felt a surge of energy and determination. I could do this! I could push this baby out!

After another “session” of pushing with the help of pitocin, there was still no baby. I rested for a short while, and we moved to the bed for a third try. My midwives could apparently see part of his hairy head, but he wasn’t coming out. John was behind me supporting one leg, and my doula supported the other. My midwife was trying to assist me and baby boy with her hand. Sandy took four different videos during that time because there were so many times they thought would be “the time.” I heard, “This is it! You’re doing it! Baby, your mom is doing everything, let this be the time!” I would work up all of the drive left in me, telling myself, “This time you’ll feel him come out!” And I never did. He was comfortable where he was, and I couldn’t seem to convince him otherwise. I’m not sure what time it was, but it was dark again. Somewhere in there I took a shower. I don’t remember details.

This was the darkest time for me. I had hit the wall that marathon runners talk about. I had told myself in my preparation for labor that I didn’t want to speak any negativity. I wanted to be positive, relaxed, and encouraged the whole time. If I needed reassurance, I asked for it. But at this point, I was terrified of my mom’s birth story with my older brother that I’d heard time and time again after telling family that I was going to have a homebirth. She was in labor for eighteen hours and then had to have a c-section. I don’t know the details, but I remember listening to my team and being terrified to hit the eighteen hour marker. I didn’t want to be like my mom. [Even after reading so many positive stories of home births, I allowed the culture of telling negative birth stories to get into my head and stay there. Lesson 2: Don’t let negative birth stories bring you down. It’s up to our generation to change the culture and make labor a positive, empowering experience.] I finally said out loud, “I didn’t want to say anything negative, but I’m discouraged. I don’t want to go to the hospital, but I’m tired…” I have never been more exhausted in my life.  My midwives suggested I rest. They took off the Pitocin drip, but kept me on fluids since all I’d had was a little bit of coconut water, apple juice, and a bite of a Larabar. I was on the bed, and John was behind me (he never left me the entire time. He was amazing.). I moved off of him so that he could move if he needed to, and we rested. They told me to save my energy and not to push during the contractions, but sometimes I couldn’t help it. Every now and then I would start to shake uncontrollably and it would be followed by a contraction. Then, I could rest a little bit and the cycle would start again. I’m not sure how long we were like that, but I know my midwives showered and my mother-in-law napped.

My main midwife came in sometime between 3:00am and 4:00am to ask what I was thinking. I was thinking, “I’m ready for this baby to come out of me, but I don’t know if I can do it anymore.” Throughout the entire labor they checked the baby and me often. My husband thinks they did it at least hourly. They checked again and we were both fine. [ John says baby boy is the genius he is today because of his non-thwarted neurological stimulation during labor. He was never stressed by drugs or made groggy by them. My baby boy is a trooper!] Although we were totally healthy, I was discouraged and scared. I knew I would want the help of Pitocin to get the baby out, but I didn’t want to have Pitocin again and it not work. John told me several times that if we went to the hospital they’d probably want to section me, but I told him that I felt there was no other way. I had packed “just-in-case” bags and lists, and I asked Sandy to begin prepping them. They helped me dress, and we loaded into the car. I know we left the house around 4:00am-ish.

When we arrived at the emergency room, I told them I was too tired for Spanish and they needed to just read my file. I was worn-out…that was the only reason I was there. On the way to the delivery room, I had several contractions that I couldn’t resist the urge to push though. The nurse yelled at me not to push, but in my head I was telling her, “Look lady, I’ve been pushing…this kid isn’t coming out!” When I was on the table and able to push as I pleased, I asked if there was anything small I could have to help how I felt…pain meds of any sort. I felt like I might as well; I was already at the hospital. But…there wasn’t. They said the only thing that could happen was for the baby to come out.

The doctor ended up performing an episiotomy and telling me he was going to help the baby externally. Wowza! That was the worst EVER! I’m surprised he wasn’t injured by the way I was screaming and squeezing and hitting at him! He assisted a few times that I pushed and let me rest in between. Then, I was pushing, he was pushing, and I was screaming, “I have to rest! I have to rest!” He said, “Just a few more. I’m not getting off…this is it!” All I could think was that I thought I’d heard that before…

But! This time it really was! I’ve never been more overjoyed, relieved, energized, or shocked in all my life. I remember yelling, “Finally! Thank you! Thank you!” I asked if he was a boy, and everyone said, “He’s a big boy!” just like the sonograms. That made us laugh. The doctor asked if anyone was going to take any pictures because John was so in the moment as well and Sandy was still filling out paperwork. I forgot everything else in that moment because my baby was on my chest and he was screaming and he was perfect. I was so very proud that, although we ended up at the hospital, I did it. I had a baby with minimal assistance.

May 10, 2013 at 5:51am my precious baby was born. That's the only part of the story that really matters.

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For moms considering natural birth:

FAQ: If I have a second child, what will I do? --- My answer to that is that I will learn from my first labor and, otherwise, I will do things exactly the same. Did I intend to end up the hospital? No. However, my baby and I were never in harm’s way. We were completely healthy the entire time. The only reason I went to the hospital is because I was tired. External assistance is something the midwives would never do because of the stress and danger to the baby. In the hospitals, they do it because if there’s danger then they just section the mom. Do I want that next time? No way! Long answer short: if we are in Puerto Rico for our next baby, I will be calling the midwife. If we are in the States, I will be calling a midwife, but I may consider a birthing center. 

Do I wish I would have had pain meds the entire time?---No! I can’t imagine learning how to effectively push and talk to your baby during labor while on pain medicine. Yes, I asked for it at the end, but I knew I was at the end.

Why did I choose home birth in the first place?---I have no intentions of sounding hippy or political—which tend to be the two directions people take my answers. I will say that I believe it’s the best way to go. Our God is a great God who knew what He doing when he designed us. I will not recommend all pregnant women have homebirths or even medicine free births, but I will recommend all pregnant women educate themselves on the options available and the risks involved in the modern hospital birth scenario. I do feel our nation has strayed and has turned something that is natural and empowering into something that is feared and numbed. There are COUNTLESS benefits to mom and baby when birth is done naturally. Whenever I envision being able to work out again and getting this little bit of weight off, I think, “I can do anything! I had a baby!”

Here are a few resources if you’re looking for them. Pictures to follow in chronological order. I also wish to give a friendly reminder that I do not intend to debate, so please do not comment if you do. Thanks!

Ina May’s book: A Guide to Natural Child Birth was a big part of my preparation during pregnancy. If you are interested in her take on things, check her out: http://www.inamay.com/article/home-birth%E2%80%94why-its-necessary

This is a good list reviewing all options. http://www.houstonnaturalbirth.com/adv_homebirth.shtml

                This considers the c-section rate in the States. http://www.childbirthconnection.org/article.asp?ck=10456

                This is a good resource if you’re considering or want to learn more about natural childbirth. http://www.givingbirthnaturally.com/natural-childbirth.html

                There are also some good documentaries out there: The Business of Being Born and Born in America. Obviously, they are a little bias, but informative nonetheless. They are available on Netflix as well.

 

 

God bless. :)

 

2,857 Tabs

“Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

Matthew 11:29-30

Today on Facebook, I read one of those e-cards that I actually liked (which doesn’t happen extremely often). It said, “Men: if you ever wanna know what a woman’s mind feels like, imagine a browser with 2,857 tabs open. All. The. Time.” I couldn’t describe myself better. I, probably along with the majority of all human beings, am in the middle of a constant struggle. A struggle between being grateful for all the Lord has provided and being concerned when looking at the reality of some of the present needs and needs to come. A struggle between thinking about things entirely too much and not thinking things through enough. A struggle between every role that is played in this life. Wife. Mother-to-be. Daughter. Granddaughter. Sister. Aunt. Niece. Friend. … Secretary. Taxi driver. Cook. Housekeeper. Accountant. And the list could go one…for all of us, the list could go on.

As the birth of my baby approaches, although hopefully not too soon, I find myself very much at peace until I allow the words, advice, or good intentions of others to take me away from my secret place. If, at one time, I have taken burdens and given them to the Lord, in an instant, I see that I have taken them right back. It’s like instead of placing them on an altar, I am simply a lender insisting on returns…with interest. Stupid interest that doesn’t even make sense because interest is supposed to be something that is good for the lender; however, since I’m not supposed to be lending my burdens at all, I suppose it’s all stupid.

Here’s the deal: I have been concerned for a few days now that this baby is going to come early. The biggest issue with this is that I would love to be able to have a homebirth. There are many opinions on that, so let me say that I do not think homebirth is the only way to go, but it is the way I would like to go, if possible. For my midwives here, I have to make it to 37 weeks in order for that to become a reality. I’ve been hesitant to truly document that decision for fear that something in the process may not work out; that worry is behind me. If others pass judgment on my decisions, so be it. In the end, all that matters is that mom and baby are healthy, but you better believe I’ll do my darnest to try and make sure that mom and baby experience birth as naturally as possible for as long as possible. Part of that process for me, personally, is to be at peace. In my heart of hearts I know that everything will be fine. I know that my baby will enter this world and his necessities will be met. He will have food for his belly, something covering his behind, a flat surface to sleep on, and he will be so incredibly loved. I know that as he grows, his necessities will continue to be met. Whatever comes, he will be my baby, and in the eyes of myself, his daddy, and his heavenly Father, he will be perfect. I know that I’ve never had a baby before. I know that I won’t know what I’m doing half of the time, and I know that I’ll make mistakes. But what new mom doesn’t? I’ve read books, blogs, articles, and magazines, but I know that I will never be prepared because each stage will be a new one that I’ve never experienced from this mom side of things before.

I have truly treasured conversations I have had with some of my best friends who are recent new moms, and I have enjoyed learning from other older women immensely. Nevertheless, I have also been victim to words from others that have held no positive repercussions. Words that were potentially meant for good, but, Satan used them to turn me back into the burden hoarder I can sometimes be.

While preparing for a baby about 2,000 of the 2,857 tabs open in the female brain may be completely justifiable. There are 153 questions that need to be asked to 67 different people, and there are 184 things on the to-do list and the to-get list, etc. However, if baby comes and 79 of the questions remained unasked or 42 of the things on the to-do list weren't completed…it just really will not be the end of the world.

In the midst of the struggle with our very brains, we should remember to stop being lenders to God, who gives so freely. It’s time to let Him who is gentle at heart take (and keep) our burdens. I’m so glad that He is the ultimate One who matters. His thoughts of me mean more than anyone else’s, and His advice is the only absolute.

 Lord,

Take my burdens, for good, please. Keep this baby in my womb for at least two more weeks, if it is Your will. Help my words lift up and not tear down. Help me only be lifted up and not allow myself to be torn down by words that may have good intentions. Take the never-ending thoughts in my brain and make them thoughts about things that are true, right, noble, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy. Help me to use reason to be prepared for the future, but help me distinguish legitimate concern from unhealthy anxiety. Teach me the difference in true need and luxury that this world has made us think is necessary. Love, love, love you.

Amen.

**If you stuck it out, thank you for allowing me to vent and preach to myself for a bit. Sometimes words on a page just help. It’s been that way all my life. Let today be a day filled with peace that passes all understanding.

God bless. 

Virtual Tour--Numero Dos!

I decided to document our last night in our little house with a video. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=potT6Ufp3v4

And...here's a tour of our new bigger little house. Complete with amazing, God-provided luxuries like a refrigerator, hot water in the shower, closet space, kitchen drawers, a gas stove, and a whole room for our baby! Adelante!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nSZyxAXa9-c

A Baby Story

“We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.” Proverbs 16:9

      In December, we were tickled to begin preparing for a baby girl. Totally normal, right?! I was 18 weeks pregnant when we “found out.” Despite the excitement, we felt a strong urge to announce with caution. During our first ultrasound, the tech guessed that it was a girl, but said, “It’s still a tiny baby.” Well, being in Puerto Rico, and having that language barrier (I’m so SLOW aprendiendo espanol!), I left the office in tears because I just wanted to know before headed home for Christmas to have a gender-reveal with family and friends. We couldn’t have another ultrasound without a prescription, and the doctor wouldn’t give us a prescription because there was no need. The baby was healthy. Praise God, of course, but I was desperate to know! 

     The week before we set to fly out for the holidays, my husband had an idea. We work in a hospital, so why not ask a doctor for a prescription. We do favors for each other all the time, right? After lunch, we headed to the ER because it didn’t look too busy and one of the doctors was there that was also receiving treatment from John at the time. Right when she said she’d give me a prescription, my doula’s assistant (my doula is a nurse at the hospital) came and grabbed my arm, saying, “Hollie is pregnant! Quieres sonogram?!” Our hospital’s radiology hasn’t been open because we don’t have a radiologist on staff, but we had students there that week and an ultrasound tech trying to train them with a DINOSAUR age machine. Of course I wanted a sonogram! At one point, I think there were up to 10 people in the room!! Some students, some nurses, an ER doctor, and the list goes on. They looked and looked for some proof of gender, and ended up agreeing with the guess of the previous tech because they couldn’t see anything going against it. They never saw the definitive “girl” parts, but everyone reassured us that after two techs “guessing” this baby was surely a girl, and we should prepare for team pink! Goodness, our baby was modest!

John didn't think to take a picture until the room had cleared out a little,
but there were more folks in there before!

      So, we announced, but we insisted all major things remain gender neutral. This was not only because we were not 100% sure, but also because we’d like to have more than one child, and if a stroller and high chair and other big items can last us, then let them last us!

December 2012 Brookwood Shower

This is the frame I used to announce to parents.

      Fast forward…I was given a prescription for an ultrasound around 30 weeks. Just to clarify, most OBGYN’s here do not have anything in their offices. I do all blood work and radiology at different places—hence why a prescription is needed. Anyway, I had a little anxiety because I felt like baby hadn’t been moving as much as usual, but we were in San Sebastian getting some insurance training from some friends and couldn’t have the ultrasound that day. I told my friend about my anxiety and that we had to wait until after the weekend to have an ultrasound, and she said, “No, you don’t!” Her office is in a hospital like ours, and their hospital has a running radiology department. So, we walked down for a general ultrasound just to check on everything. The tech heard us saying “she” while referring to the baby, but apparently saw some contradictory evidence at the very beginning of the sonogram. We heard her ask, “Que piensan del bebe?” We didn’t think anything about it. Then, a little later, the tech pointed to the screen, and my friend said, “Yes, I saw that too…” 

                “Saw what?” I said. 

                “Kind of looks like a nut.” Our friend said. Hilarious now, I know. Not so much at the time. The tech had me moving from side to side to try and get a good view because, she later told us, she didn’t want to tell us we were having a boy unless she had some hard evidence. Finally, the tech blurted out the only thing she said in English the whole time, “It’s a boy.”

                “Are you serious?!” rang out from me and John!! “Like, we’re sure?! 100%??” In Spanish, the tech said, “If it’s not a boy, you can sue me.” Again, hilarious now. Not so much then. Not that we were disappointed, but that we were shocked! This poor little boy in my belly has been being called a baby girl for 3 months!

                We ultimately had a lot of fun calling family members to let them know the “change.” And, once again, God revealed that His plan is so much bigger than ours. He keeps us on our toes, and insists we trust in Him. Since then, we have had one more ultrasound that really confirmed we have a big boy on the way, and we couldn’t be more thrilled! God has continued to provide as well because we did have A LOT of girl clothes. Stores like Carter’s and Sam’s have been wonderful and helpful while exchanging our girl outfits for boy ones even when we didn’t have receipts. All of what I bought at consignment stores for great prices, I was able to give to a friend who has a 3 month old baby girl here, and God has already provided all the boy clothes we could need for, at least, the first 6 months with some that go beyond that.

 

Sweet Shower in Rincon

 

With one of the students

Sweet hostesses!

This girl has been a lifesaver! She has a beautiful 3-month-old herself!

How big is the belly?

Some of the ladies toasting with cupcakes!

First little sneakers :)

And to end...name that chocolate poo! So funny!

                This weekend, the gracious church we attend here, Church Without Walls, threw us a beautiful shower Saturday for a baby BOY, and God confirmed again that He truly determines all of our steps. And, really, I’m so glad He does. He does such a better job than I could do. Now, if only I could always remember that. God bless.

 

 

 

The Grandfolks

           A few Sundays ago, Grandma had a fall at around 4:00 a.m. That’s a fairly reliable potty/baby-in-belly awake time for me, so I was up. John and I heard a noise, so he dressed and went outside…nothing. He went back to bed, and then we heard Grandpa open his house door and call for us. It was the same scene we’d experienced several times since moving here. She’d gotten up to go to the bathroom, fell (in the same spot of Grandpa’s previous falls), and hit her head (in the same spot as Grandpa’s previous head-hits). I mopped with bleach, John bandaged with an old undershirt of mine, and he determined that she was well enough that we could take her to the hospital ourselves without calling 911. She ended up with a bump on her head and soreness all over. Otherwise, she was fine.
            I tell you what…I have to remind myself often these folks are not invincible because after surgeries, accidents, and trauma they walk and talk just fine!
            Just last week, we had a morning episode when Grandma’s blood sugar dropped pretty low. Grandpa called us over (at 2:00 in the morning this time), and she wasn’t coherent enough to take the spoon of maple syrup without a fight. An hour later, after juice, apple sauce, and bread with butter, she was back to her normal self. Completely able to complain about Grandpa yelling at all times of the night…after which we scolded her because that “yelling” had kept her from completely bottoming out! She also said he accused her of not knowing how to take her own blood sugar, and, again, we told her that an hour ago she couldn’t! He was right, and she needed to give him credit for it!
          Grandpa’s doing fine. He has had a streak of independence. Sometimes when he asks to be dropped off places to visit with buddies or run errands, I think surely that is how it must feel dropping a teenager at the movies for the first time. A little pride. A little concern. One day, I came home and noticed his hair was shorter than the morning I had left. When I approached him about it, he just smiled. He had walked to town by himself to get his hair cut!! He said that when he arrived, the barber wouldn’t let him walk home until someone agreed to walk with him. Even though our faces were those of shock, there was nothing but a smile on his. John and I had to gently scold the 80-year-old man while expressing he did a good job at the same time. Something like, “We’re proud of you for walking that far, but don’t do it again!!” Complete with the index finger waving at him. It’s an interesting balance.
         Xena has been another source of therapy for them both. It’s morning routine for her to play with Grandpa on the patio while I clean before lunch. Grandma doesn’t like her, but I’ve come to learn that Grandma likes not liking things. It’s taken me almost a year, but I’ve finally convinced her to stop buying the individual serving boxes of Honeynut Cheerios because they’re so much more expensive. The regular cereal boxes have the same food inside. This week…wait for it…not only did she buy a regular size box of the cereal, she even bought an off-brand! If only I could adequately express how big of an accomplishment that is for an OCD woman extremely set in her ways! I now know every ounce of that in my dad comes from her, and I, unfortunately, am influenced by them both! It’s a good thing the Lord makes a daily point to emphasize flexibility in our lives.
        We are getting ready to move, and we’re having to really prepare both grandparents for the change…even though we’re only moving across the street. Remember, we’re also getting ready to have a baby, and that’s going to be change for them as well. Oh no, TWO changes at ONE time! We’re in the brainstorming process of how communication will work when those middle-of-the-night incidents occur. Walkie talkies? Baby monitor? Quick-dial on the house phone? We praise God that we are not necessary caregivers in terms of daily activities. We are just caregivers in terms of being taxi drivers, food delivery people, laundry helpers, dish washers, etc. They are capable of doing most of those things for themselves, it’s just faster and more efficient when we do it for them—with the exception of driving. Despite the hombre loco at the DMV who decided to give my 82-year-old grandmother a driver’s license, neither my grandma or my grandpa can drive. Period. So, they will have to get used to being more organized with their outings because those outings will be fewer and farther between after baby gets here. We joke that even though this is our first pregnancy, it will be our third child. We have two already. One is a diva that behaves like a 5-year-old sometimes and a 16-year-old at others, and the other is more like a teenage boy who is sometimes carefree and other times ridiculously stubborn.

It’s good times. We are grateful for all prayers as the future slowly becomes the present. We know it's a mighty God we serve, and He has all things under control.

 

 

Stand up; Testify!

      Around October of 2012, I found myself in an internal struggle of deciding how to pray. On one hand, I was surprisingly pregnant, living in a one-room house with no running hot water or reliable air conditioning, and my husband and I had no stable income. On the other hand, I had a baby doctor (hard to find in PR that takes our insurance), a great church family, and all of my essential needs completely met. I knew that even though my lifestyle had changed dramatically in a short period of time, I was not in need, and I felt guilty praying for things I desired but knew to be luxuries. Finally, I decided God already knew the desires of my heart, so I might as well be open and honest with Him about them. I desperately wanted reliable air conditioning solely for night time. I know money is an amenity, and we’re blessed to have the savings we do, and I told God so. But I prayed for some stability in a time when finances were (although it’s a sin) a big source of anxiety. John’s family was coming in November, and we had two car issues in a short span of time that were not inexpensive. We were going home for Christmas and wanted to bring Xena, our furbaby, back with us. The list could go on. Lastly, I began praying then for a bigger space to move into before the baby arrived. I told Him that if it aligned with His will, we’d love to have a house with a yard for the dog. We’d like to be able to be walking distance to my grandparents, we’d love for it come with appliances and a bathtub, and we had a specific low number in mind for rent. That is one prayer request we shared with those closest to us as well. 

      A pause for a disclaimer before a continuance is necessary here. Psalm 37:4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” We serve a big God who is absolutely NOT a genie in a bottle. People often use this scripture to show how prayer will get you what you want, but that is a flawed concept. When we are focused on Him, our desires should be aligned to His. I am NOT saying John and I were a state of perfect alignment, by any means. I just wanted to clarify. Our God is a provider. He meets our needs (that Biblically are nothing but Him) and blesses us beyond our needs only according to His will. This story is not told because He has always answered my prayers the way I wanted. There are, indeed, several things I have been praying for almost daily for years that I have not, and may not, see through to fruition. However, this is told by a girl who is hormonal, has struggles with the sin of anxiety, and is standing in serious awe of a Heavenly Father who has heard His daughter and son and the many petitions from friends and family on our behalf. That is why it’s essential to share. That is why I couldn’t wait to start writing. Because “the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and His ears are attentive to their cry” (Psalm 34:15). HE HEARS US. 

     Right before John’s family came in November we were surprised and blessed with a monetary gift from a dear family. It filled us  with humility and gratitude. They are truly the Lord’s servants at work. Around the same time, John had a fantastic idea to fix the air conditioner, and now it’s reliable and wonderful at night time! 

When a window unit cannot go in a window,
John puts it in the wall! Love him!

        In December, we were blessed with an early baby shower by our friends and family at home, and we have continued to be humbled as gifts have not stopped coming, and God has truly used His followers to take care of us and this precious new life we are anticipating meeting. We were also able to bring our first baby girl, Xena, with us to Puerto Rico. That has been rewarding for us, our grandparents, and our puppy dog. 

She LOVES all the big sticks in her new backyard!

Grandpa LOVES this dog!

 

     In January, we were provided with some free lab work when I had to take the pregnancy glucose test. This was unexpected and wonderful because no lab we have found accepts our American insurance, and we’ve been paying out of pocket. We also felt called to live on faith even more after having a better month at the office with new patients, and decided February would be the first month we not live solely off of savings. 

     In February, we allotted ourselves less and trusted all necessities would be provided. This month has been a stretch financially because of that leap in confidence, but this week has left us reassured that we truly are safe in the hands of God. He has delivered to us a house that did not even have a sign on the outside saying it was for rent or sale. It is, literally, the house across the street from our grandparents, and the price is, literally, the exact price we were hoping to pay monthly. For curious minds, it does not have a bath tub or appliances; nevertheless, the Lord has already provided a refrigerator, TV, microwave, and chair through family and friends here! He heard our prayers.

John and Grandma with the owner of the house!

The big room. Part dining, part living room.

It has two bedrooms, and they both have these amazing closets with shelves!
Shelves! Storage is such a blessing!

"Porch" We will put our futon swing here. See that white wall across the street?
That's my grandparents' house! I'd say that's walking distance! :)

Kitchen! Let me tell you, you will not fully appreciate drawers until you haven't had them! 
Excited!!

     Literally, God only knows what March holds. And that’s all right with us right now. In April, God willing, we will move into a cute blue and pink house. In May, God willing, we will welcome the newest Puerto Rican Barrington into this world. And the whole time, God willing, we will continue praying.  And even if we don’t feel His answers, we will be able to look at this time in our lives and know He hears us. Because He does, and that’s the point of any testimony. 

HE HEARS US.