hide and seek.

Hide and seek.  Not the game you play when you are little, where you hide in the closet behind some of Grandma's old clothes, and you have to stifle giggles so that your cousins won't find you.  No not that one.

I mean the one I sometimes find myself playing with God. 

I am a religious person.  I accepted Christ as my personal savior a long time ago.  I have been on a ton of missions trips.  In high school I was known as one of the Thomas sisters, a little bit goody-goody.  While others were at parties, we were at youth group.  We went to church every Sunday and every Wednesday.  My mom sang on the worship team.  We prayed before every meal.  Religion coursed through the veins of our family. 

Now that I'm older, my religion and the way I live it, has become my own responsibility.  Maybe responsibility isn't the right word.  But, once I was out of the family house, and on my own, I had to be accountable on my own for my faith.  No longer, do I have my mom to put foam curlers in my hair to prepare for Sunday morning church services. It is up to me to make it to church, it is up to me to pray before my meals, it is up to me to prioritize my day to allow for a quiet time to be in the Word. 

I am still a very passionate person about my beliefs, and I still have a very personal relationship with Jesus, and I think having Kai has helped me grow in my faith.  It has become so much more immediatley important that I be an example for him.

And yet I still struggle. 

The last couple weeks have been especially trying for me and my faith.  Why is it that when things get so hard in life, it becomes so much easier to hide from God? We should be seeking Him out, leaning on Him for support, and crumbling at His feet at the very hardest times.

I tell myself that I am trusting in God at my hardest times.  I pray about my struggles.  I tell myself I have unburdened myself, and have hung all my baggage on His neck.  I tell myself all these things, and yet today, I was reminded that I am still keeping a grip on the strap of the enormous piece of luggage I had just "given" to God.

There is no hiding from God.  He will continue to "find" you no matter how hidden you think you might be. Or how long it has been.  Or the choices you have made.  He will never lose sight of you.

I had been hiding, and this morning, like a slap in the face I was found.

I had been struggling majorly with forgiveness and giving grace like I would like to be given.  Guess what my MOPS lesson was on this morning.  Yep you guessed it.  Giving grace, giving forgiveness.  Ready or not, here He comes.  Busted. 

So this morning, I am officially giving it all up to Him.  I do not want it anymore.  The only person I am hurting by holding on to the bitterness is me.  Take it please Lord. Change my heart, and let me show love.

"Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence,

so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us

in our time of need." Hebrews 4:16

words.

Remember the first time someone told you they love you. Think about the way it felt.  Relive the way the hair on your arms stood strait.  Dwell upon that tingly feeling at the bottom of your stomach.  Go back, and keep forever the build up as you prepared to say "I love you too."  Revive the way you felt any time you would make eye contact with that person, or heard their name, or when you saw their name on the caller id, or when you held their hand.  Everything changes when you hear those words.  Three little words that mean so much, you feel completely electric.

Words are powerful.

Remember the when the doctor told you, "You're pregnant."  The overwhelming feeling. The joy, and the fear.  Reminisce about the way you felt telling your family, your husband, or for me, my boyfriend.  Recall the excitement, the fear, the joy, and the love.  Again two words, meaningless on their own, change your entire being.  The words change the way you live your life, they change your future, they change everything.

Words are pivotal.  They hold true weight. 

Remember when you heard the words "Marry me".  Relive the feelings of pure ecstasy.  Remember the dreams that came with those two little words.  Conjure up the feeling of blessedness that accompanied those words.  Now remember the way you felt when you told that person "I do."  Again, just two little words that are used all the time, in our daily vocabulary.  Alone, they mean nothing.  But when you say them to the person you love, on that special day.  They mean everything. 

Words can be momentous.

That might be the longest introduction ever.

But my point is that words have weight to them.  Just by hearing, or saying them, can give a person an actual physical reaction.  They can cause heart rates to pound harder.  They can bring tears to your eyes.  They can make the little hairs stand strait.  Words can be crucial.  They can be major.

And your words can be the most critical part of making someone feel good.  Or bad. 

Your words, my words, they are important.  So only use them if you really mean them.  Because your words, my words they also stick.  Once they are out in the world, you cannot ever get them back.  Your words are everything.  Good or bad, they are consequential. 

Choose your words with weight.

truths and thoughts.

Hello friends, its been a while.  The truth is, almost every day I sit down to write, thinking that I have all these great ideas, and once that little cursor starts to blink at me, all those great ideas suddenly seem kind of stupid.  So, I'm sorry to leave you hanging.  I'm sure you are all sitting on the edge of your seats waiting. Ha, delusion.

truths.

1. Kai and I built his first fort yesterday.  We spent a couple hours watching movies, eating chips, and playing with his super cool baby toolbox.  The songs that stupid thing sings are still stuck in my head.  It made me feel like I had a big kid, then I realized my someday big kid probably won't want mom playing in his fort.

2. We didn't win powerball last night.  I actually couldn't sleep Tuesday night, because I stayed up fantasizing about what I would do with 50 some million dollars.  I had plans, and for some reason I truly believe this would be Dan and I's big break.  There's that delusion again.  I probably checked the powerball website 30 plus times yesterday thinking that the drawing happened at 10am.  When I couldn't find the winning numbers, I then googled what time and channel I could watch the live drawing.  When I couldn't find that, I realized that maybe it happened at 10pm.  I had fantasized calling Dan saying we had won... "YOU CAN QUIT!!!!" Better luck next time.

3. I'm working hard on my laundry.  After reading one of my old posts in which I complain endlessly about the never ending chore, my mother-in-law made the trek up the mountain to help me start fresh.  That's the thing about chores, they get way too overwhelming if you don't keep up with them regularly.  Kay helped me go through storage closets, cupboards, dressers, and we started fresh.  We made nearly 30 trips to the community dumpster purging all of the previous tenant's crap, and all of our un-needed mess.  She taught me a few tricks about how she keeps up with it all.  We went to Walmart, and spent almost $90 on new cleaning products.  And I am proud to say, I have kept up with it all.  No longer, is the laundry room a torture dungeon and I even take pride in all the chores I accomplish during the day.

4. We're sticking it out for another long winter high in the mountain-tops.  I'm trying to keep positive about this, because I know it is just as hard for Dan.  While it is completely monotonous for me to sit at home, inside, trying not to freeze, and taking care of Kai every day, Dan has to venture out into the cold every day, to go to work at a place that he hates.  I am hoping the Lucas inn makes a comeback this season for all of our friends and family to visit.  With more bodies, we can share body warmth and make it through the snowy season.

thoughts.

1.  I want to become one of those moms that plans more hands on activities and structured playtime for Kai.  I just struggle making that change.  So often, I find myself putting Kai in the middle of the room with a whole slew of toys and let him go crazy.  I need to figure out different activities that I can do with a 16 month old.  I want to be one of those moms.  It is something that I struggle with though. 

2.  I want to become one of those families.  I want to have traditions.  I want to plan fun things for the weekends.  I want to have dinner around the table.  I want to have cute fall centerpieces.  So often, on the weekends, we fall into this lax routine of sleeping in, planting ourselves on the couch, and eating junk food.  That is all fabulous every now and then.  But I want to make memories.  I want to go to the pumpkin patch.  I want to go on a hay ride.  I want to do things.  Its hard up here though.  By the time the work week is over, we are both tired, and our energy is low. But it is my hope that someday we'll make the transition.  I tell myself though, that when Kai gets a little older it will be easier.  Does anybody have ideas on traditions or activities we can do right now?

3.  I am a bit delusional.  Call it being naive or dumb or whatever.  But I kind of like it. I like believing there is a big cloud of rainbows surrounding my life.  I like believing I'm going to win the HGTV green home.  I like believing I'm going to win the lottery.  Because if you don't truly believe its already yours, whats the point of ever entering the contest?

truths and thoughts... what are yours?

scrambled eggs.

The last couple days have been difficult.  We are in the midst of making some big decisions and some big changes.  My brain this morning very closely resembles scrambled eggs.  So this post is going to be a little scrambled.  I'll call it stream of consciousness- it sounds a little nicer.

my brain- dismiss the perfect presentation, and the deliciousness.

*My house is a disaster* there are blocks strewn all over the floor.  There are dirty dishes on the counter, and in the sink, and on the ottoman, and there is a water cup festival taking up residence on both bedside tables.  Not to mention the endless amounts of laundry teasing me from multiple rooms in this house.

*We have 6 weeks to move*  We have decided not to renew our lease, but we don't know where we will be moving to, back to Denver - in which case we also don't know where we will work- or to somewhere else up here - in which case we don't know where, AND, that means continuing on with the job that leaves Dan unfulfilled.  So we are left with a giant decision, stay in Vail and be unhappy, or move and not know where we'll get paid.  Crazy... a decision like this means stress.  Stress.  S.T.R.E.S.S.   

*It is too cold outside* We left summer in Vail, to go to Jamaica and be hot and sweaty and in the perfect sun, and returned to winter.  The fall season was passed over as last night we recieved our first winter storm warning.  Yuck.  I am reminded that when the winter season is here, it is a lot more lonely for a stay at home mom as we cannot really play outside. No longer can we sit barefoot on our porch and enjoy the mountain views.  Instead, we sit inside, most likely in the basement, and most likely with the tv on creating a constant white noise hum.

*This is a phase*  I have heard so many times other mothers reminding each other that whenever things are hard to tell yourself that it is just a phase.  This is a phase.  This is a phase.  This is a phase.  We have had a stressful phase before.  We will have more stressful phases to come.  This is a phase.  This is a phase.

This.Is. A. Phase.

 

  *I am a good mom*  No matter what is happening inside my head or in Dan's and no matter the stresses that surround our family right now, I am a good mom.  I must remind myself of this.  No I am not the best cleaner, I am not very organized, I leave my mail in the box for sometimes weeks, I am a couple days behind on scheduling a routine doctor check up for Kai, I let Kai watch movies whenever he wants, we don't keep good schedules, and most of all, I. Hate. Laundry.  But I have the most perfect son.  He is healthy, he is so happy, he is smart.  And I have so much love in my heart for him.  And I am a good mom.  My son has an amazing personality, and Dan and I are good parents.  Sometimes, I need to remind myself that no matter what I think a good mom is supposed to look like- the June Cleaver type-  I have the most happy, smiley little man, and that says something.  I don't need those damn pearls to prove anything.

*the 4:30p.m. sprint*  most days, around 4:30p.m. I think "Okay, Dan will be home from work soon.  How in the world can I run a sprint around this house to make it look like I was uber productive today?"  Please God, don't let me be the only stay-at-home-mom that runs the 4:30 sprint.  It's the time of day where I achieve the most, in the least amount of time.  Dan doesn't expect me to do anything, or demand anything from me, and accepts fully the woman he married, but still I sprint.  He knows that he will almost surely never find me in pearls and heels vacuuming, unless of course it is Halloween, or a sick joke meant to taunt him. But still I will sprint.  I need to train more for something like the day long marathon.  Honestly though, I hate running.  

 My brain is a scattered mess, much like my house, and for that matter, this post too. 

But I am trusting and praying that the stress will soon be relieved, and with that, my brain and my house will be unscrambled and put back into order.  God has a plan, greater than our own, and so I will be patient and wait.

come away with me in the night.

A Wedding Anniversary.  A yearly observance of the day that I married my best friend.  A day to remember the way he looked standing at the end of the aisle.  An entire day dedicated to renewing the romance that can get all muddied up by the mundaneness of day to day life.  For me, it was a day spent away from routines, to be enchanted by our love all over again.

Our first anniversary doubled as our honeymoon.  We traveled to Montego Bay, Jamaica, and spent a week holding hands, laying out, enjoying pool cocktails, eating, and appreciating each other. 

It was incredible.

It was the perfect timing for a very well needed break from our treadmill lives.

looking up at our cabana

Besides getting a jelly fish sting across both of my thighs, it was the perfect gettaway. 

I loved spending so much one on one time with my groom. Some times we get so swept up by our jobs, our kids, money stresses, just the ho-hum of our day to day routines. I loved being able to slow down, and love my husband.  To appreciate how fulfilling our marriage is.  To laugh, to tease, to make love, to renew. 

Happy one year anniversary to my love, my heart, and my life. 

Come away with me and we'll kiss.  

On a mountaintop.

Come away with me.

And I'll never stop loving you.

time.

Here it is.  The last chapter in becoming a mother.  It has only taken me fourteen and a half months to tell this story.  And as I sit here with my sweet boy napping peacefully upstairs I am moved to tears thinking about the day I stopped just carrying this baby inside me, and actually became a mother.

After having so many visits to the emergency room, and leaving empty handed each time, I was so ready.  Most pregnant women say that.  But the journey that I went through to allow myself the excitement of becoming a mother was so up and down.  It was hard.  Some days, I was excited, the next, I was devastated and immensely frightened.  By the time the day came I was ready.  I longed so dearly for this baby to be in my arms.  I struggled so much with the idea of being pregnant, I was so ready to not be anymore.  I was ready to move away from the struggle and anxiety and anxiousness.  I was ready for this little baby, Dan, and I to be a family.  This time, I wouldn't be leaving without my son.

06. 10. 2010

I packed and repacked my overnight hospital bag all day long.  Never mind that it had already been packed sitting by the door for weeks.  Just like any overnight stay, I packed way too much.  I spent so much time looking at lists online of what to bring for the birth.  Fuzzy pink robe.  My slippers.  A few kinds of lotions.  My make up.  A brush.  My razor.  Toothbrush.  A couple of outfit choices (I didn't know what I would feel like wearing).  Sweat pants.  Sweat Shirts.  Two nursing bras.  A few pairs of granny panties.  Socks.  A lavender scented neck rest.  Two pillows.  A journal.  A couple of magazines. My baby's first teddy bear.  A couple receiving blankets.  A couple newborn outfits. A wrist watch with a second hand.  Hard candy.  My suitcase was packed.

Dan worked a half day tying up all the loose ends.  We were shocked, and so blessed when we were told Dan would have a full six weeks off from his job once the baby arrived.  This meant though that he had a lot to handle before the time came to head to the hospital. 

While Dan was away I had so much time. I had all day to sit with myself and my child who was still inside me.  I had time to sleep in.  Time to rock in the new glider in the new nursery.  Time to look at my round, beautiful, basketball of a stomach.  Time to pray.  Time for tears.  Time for excitement. And time for a decadent, long, and steamy shower.

I had been alone with my thoughts all day.  And when Dan joined me, we talked together about each of our own anxiousness, fears, and hopes.  We made bets on what time our son would be born.  We made a video journal touring the nursery, and telling our unborn child what mommy and daddy wanted for him someday.  We told him what we were nervous for.  What was most exciting.  And I did one last spin to show my giant belly.

I was told that I couldn't eat a very big meal before going into the hospital last night, so we headed across the street to Olive Garden and had soup, salad, and bread sticks.  They really have the very best italian salads. Mmmmmmmm.

After lunch we took our dog down to stay at the new grandma's house, and spent time with them discussing our fears, praying, and expressing our nerves.

Then it was time to head to the hospital.  Because I was being induced I went in, scheduled, on a Thursday night at 8:00.  I remember the drive to the hospital being pretty quiet.  I was so scared.  And I couldn't quite explain why.  I had just barely gotten used to the idea of being pregnant, and I was so scared that I wouldn't be a good mom.  I had this idea of the mom that I hoped I would become, and suddenly I was struck with the idea that I couldn't live up to the standards I had given myself.  There was no way I am going to be able to keep this little helpless child alive.  But I couldn't speak this out loud.

We got to the hospital and was met by my mom who didn't want to miss a thing. I'm so thankful she was there.  The entire time she was there, she kept a notepad attached to her hands and would jot down notes about my labor, and the timing of it all.  I love looking back on that timeline now.

everybody thought this was so funny.

8:18p.m.  Once I was checked into my room and changed into my totally fashionable pink robe, I finally was able to relax a little.  That is, until the nurse came in to start my iv.  I have always had trouble getting my blood drawn or getting an iv of any kind.  My veins always collapse.  This time it took three separate sticks to get it right.  I was crying, and received some pretty nasty bruises as a souvenir.

9:20p.m. I swallowed my first cytotec pill to prepare my cervix for delivery.  And we started watching Zoolander, both to take my mind off things, and to drown out the sounds of labor next door.  My nurse said another girl the week before was watching the same movie for the same reason.  Who knew Ben Stiller was a calming source for laboring women.  My friend Kendra came in to visit us, and when the nurses would leave the room, we really were having fun.  She was a good distraction for us, and I think both Dan and I were thankful to have her there.  At this point my contractions were 2.5 to 3 minutes apart but not painful at all yet.  I wonder now if it was just the good company that made them not hurt too bad.

-The entire time we were in the hospital Dan had his video camera in his hands and continued our video diary.  While there were times, I thought that was the most annoying thing ever, I am now so thankful that he did.  I ball any time I watch it, the rawness of the video show just how emotional and beautiful of an experience we had.

-My mom spent the night on the little couch in the waiting room.  She wanted to be there if anything happened in the night time. I'm still not sure how much sleep she actually got.  She was such a trooper and was a huge support for both Dan and I.  Never wanting to leave my side.

-The next morning I got my last meal.  I ordered a toasted bagel with plain cream cheese and a couple apple juices.  Hospitals have THE BEST apple juice EVER!!!!  And the cherry on top was that I got to take a shower.  Oh how, I would come to love and appreciate showers every day for the rest of my life.

06. 11. 2010

8:15a.m.  The nurses (I wish I could remember their names.  Most I loved, and one I hated.  Bad.) came in and started me on antibiotics (I tested positive for strep), and started my pitocin drip.  I was 3 cm dilated and 80% effaced.  I was having hardly any contractions at this point and was totally ready to get the ball rolling.  We made guesses about what time our little guy would be arriving and I wanted him as soon as possible.  I said by 5:00p.m. "He better be here."  Dan and my mom recorded everyones guesses both on film and written down, although, now I have no idea who won, or what the prize was.  I was mildly distracted.

9:10a.m.  The nurses increased my pitocin to 2ml/hour trying to move things along.

10:15a.m. My doctor came in to break my water.  I had a panic attack.  Dan had gone downstairs to move the car from the emergency parking lot, into the "I'll be here a while" side.  I wanted him to be with me, holding my hand through every step.  I was so afraid he wouldn't be there for this.  I also knew, that once my water was broken, there was no turning back.  I knew the labor would get more intense and painful.  And all of a sudden I just wanted to keep this baby inside me.  I didn't really have to give birth.  But, Dan made it, he wiped my tears, held my face next to his, made me focus on his eyes, and gush, my water was broken.  Right as I felt the gush, Dan's cell phone went off with a Star Wars light sabor sound, signaling a text message.  It was the perfect comic relief that I needed to snap out of my tears. 

10:30a.m.  I started walking up and down the halls trying to let gravity do its thing.  My contractions were getting stronger and more painful.  So every couple minutes, I gripped Dan's hand a little tighter, we stopped walking, and I tried my hardest to remember all the Lamaze techniques I had learned.  I thought I was tough.  Dan and I had practiced pinching my arms and ear lobes and breathing through the pain just like our Lamaze coach told us to.  That stuff really is just a bunch of bull when it comes to the actual labor pains.  At least it was for me.

11:30a.m.  Back into the room.  I was gripping the side of the bed and Dan's mom came to visit.  When she saw the pain, I think she left and would return later.  I remember her praying with us and thats about it.  I really was only able to think, or speak, or even live, in between contractions.  That precious minute or so of relief.

12:15p.m. I got checked by my nurse and I was only 3-4 cm dilated and 90% effaced.  I was disappointed I wasn't further along.  For the amount of pain I was in, I thought for sure I would be at least 6 cm. I remember feeling pretty defeated.

12:30p.m. I got into the jacuzzi.  I needed some kind of relief.  The warm water felt nice for about 30 seconds, every minute and a half.  Only in between contractions.  Otherwise, everything was extremely uncomfortable.  Dan was there with me holding my hand, and putting cold wash clothes over my forehead and neck.  It was probably the most intense experience we had ever shared.  I literally thought I would die. 

1:50p.m.  I had had all I could take.  I needed the epidural, badly.  After the intense prick and burning, ahhhh there was euphoria.  I was ready to party.  And anyone that could see my room after that point, would think that is exactly what was happening.  We had probably 15 or 16 people in there.  Everyone huddled around and prayed with us again.  And of course bet on times and weight.  My little brothers kept sneaking to the fridge in the hallway and filling their pockets with chocolate ice cream.  Thieves.

2:10p.m.  100% effaced and still 3-4cm.  The epidural, while heavenly, slows things down a lot.

4:45p.m.  100% and 6 cm.  P.R.O.G.R.E.S.S.

6:15p.m.  100% and 8 cm.  The end was in sight.  However, our little man's heart beat was decelerating pretty badly with every contraction, so they had me lay on my side.  Then my other side.  Then I got to eat a couple popsicles, thinking that a little sugar rush might help his heart to stay at a steady rate.  This didn't help either so on went the oxygen mask.  I was scared.  All of this preparation, and I didn't want anything to go wrong.   For all the trauma and emotions that this child put Dan and I through, I was so scared that he wouldn't be born healthy. The fear had set in again.

7:25p.m. My face turned. I remember looking at Kendra, my friend that was part of the welcome party.  And she says now, that she knew exactly what that face meant.  My sister Crystal, was standing right next to my bed and I whispered to her that I felt something weird.  She told me to just stay calm and wait to see if it continued.  I wasn't sure how I would know when I was ready to push.  And I definitely had no idea how it would feel. When the "weird feeling" didn't go away I told Dan to clear the room and get the nurse to check me.  "I think its time."  Sure enough, I was fully dilated, and it was time to push.

8:15p.m.  Our sweet, Kai Woodward Lucas, was born.  He had a knot in his cord and it was wrapped around his neck.  This was why his heart rate kept dipping.  He weighed 7 pounds 11 oz.  (lucky numbers) and was 20.5 inches long.   And completely healthy.  My nurse (the one I loved) kept telling us over and over to make sure we let our son know that God has a special plan for his life.  The fact that he turned out totally healthy, with a knot and his cord wrapped around his neck, was a true miracle.

- My eyes were immediately flooded.  And the minute they laid this tiny being on my chest, the tears just streamed down my face.  I could not control them.  Giving birth is such a humbling and out of body experience, and it took a while to comprehend that he was mine.  I had held plenty of newborns, but at that time, I forgot how to.  I was so scared.

But also extremely blessed.  I was going to try my hardest to be the best damn mother I could.  I was in love.  I was scared, but I was a mom, and I was in complete adulation.

The minute Kai turned towards me and began to nurse my heart was raptured, overtaken with complete attachment and respect for my child.

It was the most beautiful experience ever.  And the most bonding for Dan and I.  

I was elated.

I was content.

I was intoxicated by my son.

My life had been magnified ten-fold.

I was a mother.

evanescent moments.

My plan for today, was to finish my story.  The last chapter in my journey to becoming a mother.
I'm sitting here looking at a blank screen, the cursor just blinking over and over at me.
That was the plan, but today, I feel compelled to write something different.

I read a lot of blogs daily, and have recently come across a very thought provoking and deeply important idea. Jennie from In Jennie's Kitchen has been dealing with uncontrollable, and earth-shattering grief.   Her husband Mikey died unexpectedly from a heart attack.  One day he was dancing around the living room with his young daughter, laughing, Jennie standing there recording this special moment between father and daughter.  And the next day, he was gone.  I don't know Jennie, or her family, but I have heard stories like this before.

Those sweet special moments- dancing barefoot around the kitchen- the first time Kai learns to give hugs- the smiles from your baby when you enter the room- they are all so easy to take for granted.  In one moment, they could all disappear.

I am reminded today to be thankful for every minute I get to spend with friends and family.  I am reminded that these moments don't always last.  I am reminded to love with  my whole heart.  I am reminded to tell people how I feel about them.  I am reminded to not take my life or my families lives for granted.

Today, I am going to stop taking things for granted, and learn to take them with gratitude.

So many of the best moments, are evanescent, they are here and gone with the blink of an eye.  They are like the cursor blinking over and over at me right now.  Today I am grateful, for these moments.  Are you?

"When it comes to life, the critical thing, is whether you take things for granted, or take the with gratitude." -G.K. Chesterton

promises

When writing this blog, I feel it is necessary to make a few promises to my readers.

Number one- I believe that there are some very powerful, pretty words.  And I like to use them in my writing.  I like my writing to be a bit flowery.  However, I promise to never flower up my writing to the point of writing something untrue.  I will always tell things exactly how I remember them, and not change details in order to pretty up the story.

Number two- I promise that I will stay accountable for my writing.  If at any point in this blog, my memory fails me, I would like my readers to call me out.  Everything that I write is true to me and to my heart and from my perspective.  But sometimes, some of the details get a little clouded.  I blame my sometimes fleeting memory on being a mother to a very active little man.

~So, with those promises made, I must clear up a few little details about the last post.~

  It seems, my dates are wrong.  I think the correct timing was that Dan and I went to Mexico a week later, and I told my mom about my pregnancy before we left. When I told her, I remember her being very upset.  And most of that feeling I perceived because she just wasn't really talking a whole lot. I was crying, (it was hard not to those first few weeks).  I did tell her to imagine how I scared I must be.  Our conversation didn't last that long because my mom had to leave for work.  And I remember it being a few days before she came to terms with the fact that this wasn't a problem she could take away for me.  And she got behind me, helping me figure out the insurance issue. 

Back then, I really felt like I didn't have my mother's support in those first few days.  But I realize now, it was just her dealing with it in her own way. The same way I had to deal with it the day I found out.  It is a hard thing to swallow, that your youngest daughter is pregnant.  And I believe looking back on it now, my mom handled it as gracefully as possible.  And after coming to terms with my pregnancy, she became my biggest support, and I turned to her with every question I had.  Thanks mom.

the epic countdown.

Dan held my hand all through our test at planned parenthood.  We had lied that morning, to my sister, and said we were going out for breakfast before Dan's workday.  I wasn't ready for anyone else to know yet.  And to Dan and I, there was still a chance that the four tests I took yesterday could be wrong.

After about 20 incredibly uneasy minutes, the lady came into our little waiting room to let us know that yes, in fact there was a little baby growing inside me.  Dan's grip on my hand tightened and I shuttered.  I immediately got tears in my eyes.  The lady gave us a ton of little pamphlets on abortion, adoption, and mother's groups if the plan was to raise the child.  Everybody always thinks that planned parenthood only advocates for abortion, but I felt absolutely no pressure from them.  But I did have a huge decision to make.  The lady told us that if I needed anything, to call and they could set me up with a counselor too.

Dan went to pay the lady at the front desk and I couldn't even wait with him.  I went strait out to the car, and crumpled into the passenger seat.  Dan came out to the car, but just leaned on the hood for a while before joining me in his seat.  We just sat there, crying, trying to understand, and trying to cling on to any amount of normalcy. It seemed like 30 minutes, we both just sat there considering this new reality.  It is amazing, looking back, how much you see your life pass through your mind, the moment you hear the words that yes, you are pregnant.  I could not comprehend how different my life would be.  And I had a big decision to make.

I have always been so incredibly excited to be a mother.  I spent a majority of my spare time babysitting.  I always had the nurturer, motherly, role in each of my friendships.  And I knew that someday I was going to be a fantastic mother.  But this was not what I had expected.  I had always envisioned being married, and being so excited giggling and holding my husband while waiting for the plus sign to appear on the test.  I had always envisioned surprising my parents in some fun extravagant way, "You're going to be grandparents!" This was nothing like I planned.

I have always been the "christian" one of my group of friends.  The last one anyone would ever expect to become pregnant before being married. Least of all me. What is the saying, If you play with fire...

I could not allow myself to consider an abortion.  That was just not a part of my consciousness.  I figured that if I got myself into this situation, I had to be strong enough to not take the easy way out, and just make it end.

During that 30 minutes or so of sitting in the car, I did consider adoption.  My mom was adopted by fabulous people and I saw how great her life was because of that.

I had to think hard.  It was not a decision I could make easily. 

After, what seemed like forever, Dan came and joined me inside the car.  He grabbed me, held me, kissed me.  We cried. 

He said, "I know it is your body, and I will respect whatever you want to do.  But, for what its worth, I want to have this kid.  I want to raise this baby together.  As a family."

That is all it took.  I needed him to let me know that he was in this.  I wasn't going to be able to do it on my own. His courage that day was never fleeting.  He was so brave.  And when I needed him most to hold me up, he was there for me.  We have never really spoken about all that he had been thinking in those quiet moments.We have never talked about what it took for him to process and come to this place of courage.  But however he came to this astonishing sense of sureness, I am so thankful for it.

Dan took his parents out to breakfast the following morning to tell them, and after hearing the news, his mom cancelled her omelet order, and drank her breakfast in a few strong bloody marys.  He wanted to be alone when he told them, so I waited on edge for any update about how they took it.  That afternoon, I met Dan and his family at the bookstore.  The embrace at the front of the store calmed my nerves, and Kay said, "We love you."  They bought me the first of many "What to expect..." books, and let me know that we have such a gracious God, and that everything was going to be okay.

Dan and I went on our Mexico trip Monday, and enjoyed our trip away from everything, and with that vacation, were able to come to a peace about this new journey.

Mexico trip: if you look closely, you can see my "What to Expect" book

When we returned, I went to tell my mom at her house.  She was getting ready for work and so the bathroom would be the setting for this uncomfortable conversation.  I knew my parents were going to be so disappointed in me.  It had only been just a few months that Dan and I had been together.  And now, we were going to raise a child? I was supposed to stay pure until marriage.  I was about to blow up their perfect image of who they wanted their daughter to be.

I am pretty sure I was crying before I even started speaking.  Once the words came out of my mouth, my mom started crying too.  And she was understandably upset with me.  I kept telling her to step into my shoes and imagine how scared I must be. It took her a few days to speak to me again.  I heard she threw up at work that day.

When I told my sister, we just hugged and cried.  She and I had never been that close.  We are only 18 months apart and thus competed in pretty much everything our entire lives.  But, that day, she held me and comforted me, cried with me, and understood me. I think that is the day that she and I became more than sisters, we were friends.

Telling my dad, was hard, and not just because he would be disappointed.  He and I hadn't spoken at all or seen each other in a few months.  There was a lot of family turmoil going on, and I had beef with him.  The phone call was pretty much like, "Hey dad, it's Lyndsey.  I'm pregnant with Dan's kid and I know you haven't met him but I love him, and we're keeping the baby."  He said he would support me, but wanted me to consider every option.  He wanted to me to think about how radically it would change my life, and that it would not be easy.  Didn't he know that 24-7 that was all I could think about?

The following weeks were tough.  I didn't have health insurance, so that was our first obstacle.  Luckily, after some hard problem solving, and without much real drama, I was able to get on Dan's insurance.  God granted us that. 

One of the first pictures of our little bean.

Whoever named morning sickness, was crazy.  It should be called all day, all night, at any point sickness.  This baby was going to make me work hard for it.  I lost like 10 pounds the first trimester.  Some days, I even had trouble keeping water down. 

I made another move the next week out of the town home and into Dan's house.  We wanted to be together through all of this.  And whenever our child came, we wanted our kid to have their own space with us as a family.
 
There were some hard days.  Some days, I would feel so raw, like my heart was on the outside of my body for anything or anyone to see and touch.  Any one thing could set me off.  I believe it was November 12th, that I was laying on our bed resting, and when Dan got home from work, he came to lay with me.  It had been an especially trying day, and I was very emotional.  I told Dan that my biggest fear was that there was nothing holding him and I together.  If at any point he decided that this wasn't what he wanted, he could just leave me and this child and not think twice. I was so scared we would end up another statistic. That's when he said to hold on and that he would be right back.  When he got back to the room, he stood me up off the bed, got down on a knee, and proposed to me.  I don't remember now exactly what he said, just how it felt to hear it.  I couldn't believe this was happening. I felt so loved.  I felt so accepted.  And I knew for sure, how abundant, and undeniable our love was.  I was so shocked that I put his grandmother's beautiful ring on my pointer finger.  We love laughing about this moment now.  While this proposal wasn't the stereotypical romantic and extravagant affair on the jumbo tron, it was perfect.  Exactly what I needed.  After all, nothing this far had been planned. 

After calling our friends and family to tell them we were engaged we went out to dinner to celebrate.  Dan asked me if I wanted a glass of wine, and quickly remembered that not only was I pregnant and therefore couldn't drink, I was also not even the owner of a legitimate over 21 i.d.  In the middle of our appetizer that night, at that fancy restaraunt, my "Morning sickness" kicked in and I ran to the bathroom with my hand over my mouth.  Reality check.

My second trimester was so much easier.  I had gotten used to the idea of being a mother.  I was starting to accept my new body.  Our families had stepped behind us fully for support. And my relationship with Dan had never been stronger.  Oh, and God granted me the gift of not being sick anymore.  I took my vitamins like a religion, my hair got longer, and I watched my diet avoiding anything I heard might not be safe.  We were discussing names, and planning showers, and allowed ourselves excitement over this pregnancy. 

In the third trimester, our little boy, (we found out at 20 weeks), tried his hardest to come early.  We visited the hospital at 30 weeks, and I got put on partial bed rest and medicine to stop contractions.  We visited again at 32 weeks and ended up having to stay for a few days.  They could not get my contractions to subside.  I was given steroids to help bulk up our little guys lungs, so that if he were born that early he would have the best chance at survival.  After 48 hours, I told my nurse that I wanted to stop my iv meds and that I was ready to have this baby.  I wanted to quit prolonging what nature was trying so hard to make happen.  Amazingly, about 20 minutes after stopping my meds, my contractions stopped all on their own. Unless you have been there, you won't understand my irrational anger that I would again be leaving the hospital empty handed.  I felt betrayed, and sad.  I finally got myself to the point of pure readiness for this baby, and I felt so let down.

I was put onto true bedrest then and a more intense medicine regiment, and labor was put off again for another couple weeks.   But then, at 36 weeks, our little man tried again to come.  This time I was sobbing, as the car pulled away from the hospital.  Our empty car seat taunting me from the back of the car.

about to pop.

Finally, I was told that the wait would be over, next Thursday night, at exactly 39 weeks I would be induced.  This epic countdown, the intensely emotional wait would be over.  And the journey I had to go through would finally have a happy ending.