Change

"Rebecca was hit by a truck." Amazing the way six words can stop your heart. "She's ok." And two can start it back up again. Those were the words on the other end of the phone last night. My friend Maria, calling to tell me my best friend (and Maria's sister) had been hit by a truck. Not in her car. In her stomach. She was walking across a parking lot, and he didn't see her. She's fine. She's concussed. She has a painfully sore sprained ankle. She's on morphine that makes her vomit, and has a giant goose egg on her head. But she's fine. I have to keep telling myself that "She's fine. She's fine. She's fine." Because she so easily could have been not fine. It could have been catastrophic. And I don't know how life would go on without her in it. A few years ago, a dear friend of our families was hit in a parking lot at an outdoor mall. The young woman who hit her was driving a friends car, because she didn't have insurance or a license because she had been in so many accidents. (At some point, can you stop calling them "accidents"? Because, clearly, at some point it just becomes negligent driving...accident implies something unavoidable. However, this "accident" could have been avoided, simply by this young woman obeying the law.) Anyway, on the day in question, she said the sun was in her eyes and she didn't see our friend...she hit her and dragged her. So far that it tore her clothes off before she realized she had hit something. The police called our friends husband (who was elsewhere in the same shopping center) and told him he needed to come see her now, that she wasn't going to make it through the night. Miraculously (and I mean that very literally, I believe in a God who performs miracles), she survived. And she is doing wonderfully. Her back pain that she had before the accident is gone, in fact. She doesn't even have to go to a chiropractor anymore, and she went regularly before the accident. But she was all I could think about last night. I kept looking at my best friend, thinking how much worse it could have been. Yeah, she was in alot of pain, and I have a feeling it's worse today. She threw up all night from the morphine. They had to cut through her pants, and she was wearing her good interview pants. She lost her really good cup of coffee. But she's alive. And she's not horribly maimed, nothing is even broken. She's sore, and traumatized (she's trying to figure out how to avoid walking in parking lots ever again. We haven't figured that out yet.) But, she also has a crazy good story for cocktail parties (the best part is when she tells you she held her hands up to the truck to try to make him stop.) I know I sound a little irreverent, but I'm just so relieved I can't breathe. But there are also tears at the edge of my eyelids, threatening to push their way over. Life can change in an instant. Literally, change completely, like rush in, grab you by the hair, swing you around it's head, and launch you as far in the opposite direction as it can, like some giant awful bully. And I realized yesterday how quickly everything could have changed. And it made me tell the people I love, how much I love them, one more time. One extra "I love you" never hurts anything.

Fears

So today I got to thinking about the baby. Shocker, I know. I was reading my favorite blog. The woman who writes it was sharing about the day when she was 5 months pregnant, and telling her friends that at her last ultrasound, the dr. had definitely ruled out down syndrome. Guess what? Her daughter was born with Down Syndrome. And her daughter is a year old now and beautiful and wonderful and it has changed their lives for the better in many ways, but it still got me thinking.





Because we don't really know. We haven't seen the baby on an ultrasound in over 2 months. Whose to say that everything has developed normally in those 2 months? Not to mention all the things that can be wrong that they can't ever see on an ultrasound. What if our child is blind, deaf, retarded, paralyzed, or has one of a million other diseases that will drastically affect our lives?!



And just as I am about to lose it, I stop myself. And I remind myself that God will never (seriously, never, even though I wonder sometimes) give me more than I can handle. And I remember that He has a plan for this little one, and while I hope it may be a grand plan (with great things to accomplish), I remember that it may be a small plan. I remember that His plan for my child may be a life that is only a few days long, and if that's His plan, he is sovereign and knows better than I do, and there's a reason. I remind myself that this child is His child, and he knew it before I knew it! And I remind myself that He loves this child more than I can ever possibly imagine to love it, as much as he loves me, and I feel ok. I rest into his comfort and assurance of love.



I also have to remind myself that if he chooses to gift us with a child that is special in some way (unconventionally, I mean...of course all children are special), then he will help us rise to the occasion. Because I know I will need His help...lots of it. But that's what He is best at...supporting us through difficulties.

Musing...

I'm about to be a mother. Mama. Mommy. Mom. Ma. And it has me thinking...alot. Like, ALOT about what kind of mother I want to be. What do I want my kids to say about me when they are 30? What kind of memories do I want them to have? What qualities are so important in a mother?

I have been told by several people recently (all people who love me very much, mind you) that I am going to be such a fun mother! That, as one comparison went, I'm going to be like that movie You've Got Mail, when Meg Ryan's mother is "twirling" with her (dancing). I've been told I'm going to be the mother that "twirls" my babies. I take that as a compliment, a big one. I want to be the mother who has special moments with her kids, little things just the two of us (then three, four, seven, ten of us) do together. I want to make my kids amazing memories of special times. I want to make my kids feel so special and adored and amazing, because they will be...of course they will be.


But then I question myself: Is that enough? I don't think it is. Mothers wear so many hats, and I want each of mine to be just a little more colorful, a little crazier, a little more memorable than most others'.

I have an amazing mother. She wasn't perfect...of course she wasn't, who is? But somehow, especially as I have gotten older, her imperfections are what make her more and more amazing. She is kind, loving, accepting, but also will put me in my place when I need a gentle shove; she is a strong woman, who loves unconditionally; she is a 60 year old who knows that she still has room to grow and embraces that fact, growing by leaps and bounds all the time, trying to rid herself of the things she doesn't like about herself, and at the same time trying to embrace and strengthen all the best parts of herself. She is truly a wonderful woman, and an amazing friend and mother.

And we are so different! Although, as I get older, I see myself becoming more and more like her, in all the good ways. Which is really good, because her good things are exactly the things that are lacking in me, so I see myself becoming more balanced as I become more like her. And I realize God knew exactly what he was doing giving me her as a mother and giving her me as a child.

But now back to me. As much as I could say "I want to be a mother just like my mother was" it's not really true. Because I know a) it would be impossible, we are literally that different. And b) like I said, she wasn't perfect. A fact she has apologized for too many times. But, seeing as I am a very new mother, I am still striving for perfection. I know it's a goal that I will never reach, but I can still try, right? Because I figure if I try for perfection, even if I fall way short, it should still be pretty good...at least that's my theory.

whoa

I am suddenly overwhelmed. I'm going to have a baby...in two months. What?! It's the scariest thing I've ever heard! As if that knowledge isn't enough, last night we went for a hospital tour and were shown a video of the phases of labor and delivery. Ew. I know it's what our bodies were made for, and I'm going into it fully planning doing it naturally, and it sucking alot. But ew. It's going to be hard! Probably the hardest thing I've ever done! And ouch! Probably the most painful thing I've ever done. Because, up until now, I've been pretty spoiled...nothing broken, nothing stitched, one cavity. I think the worst thing I've had to do was get my wisdom teeth removed, and the knocked me way the hell out to do that. And now I'm expected to push a baby out?! Of my vagina?! WITHOUT MEDICINE?! Who signed me up for that? And that may be the worst part: I begged, pleaded, and prayed for this! I did it to myself! and it's too late to take it back.

But, honestly, while scared about giving birth, it's not what really has me freaking out right now. I have come to realize that I want to be the perfect mother. The perfect balance between controlling and doing everything the books say you should, and carefree and old school and accepting. I want to be loving, and gracious, and tender, and stern, and fun, and serious, and trustworthy, and exciting, and mellow, and teach my children about all the good, beautiful, amazing, wonderful things this world has to offer, while at the same time not sheltering them from the truths of human nature and evil...at some point. It's such a huge, monumental task, and I don't feel ready. But I'm not sure anyone feels ready, and if they do, they are full of shit. I just don't want to screw up my kid. And I want to love it with all the love that is in the world. But not so much that I smother it!

Am I asking too much?! :)

grumpy grumpster

Sometimes it doesn't really feel like I'm pregnant. I look in the mirror and look the same...course, I looked pregnant before I got pregnant, so it's kind of frustrating...I'm pretty much biding my time until it's acceptable in the pregnancy to be as fat as I am, and then I'll be a happy camper. But there's just so little going on to indicate pregnancy, aside from the zits marching their angry way across my face. Honestly, it's a little frustrating. I want to feel pregnant, somehow. I want to be able to feel my uterus, or feel the baby move, or see a difference in my body, or something! Right now, all I got is that my pants are starting to get a little tight, which just sorta sucks!
Grrr, had to get that out...apparently the only other thing that makes me feel grumpy is my hormones, which are all in a shitty place today. Ugh...

Bliss

Today I went to the doctor. My husband went with me. I sat in the waiting room, petrified that they were going to lead me into the doctor's office, he was going to sit me down, and explain that I am crazy, and not really pregnant, and losing my mind. Really, I thought there was that possibility....maybe I've watched too much Grey's Anatomy.
So, once I got through all the routine stuff (peed in a cup and got weighed, thank you very much!), and we sat down in the doctor's office, I got really nervous. I grasped my husband's hand and prayed like hell that there was actually a baby growing in my belly.

And there is!

Turns out, I'm not crazy, just pregnant! There's a little blueberry (or peanut, or fetus, or whatever you wanna call it) just doin' it's thing INSIDE OF ME! How crazy is that?!

And then, we got to see it. And another one of my secret fears rose up. I can't ever tell what I'm looking at on those stupid ultrasound pictures. It just looks all grainy and strange and confusing. And I was so scared I wasn't going to be able to see anything.

But I could!

Admittedly, it doesn't look like much right now...it really does look like a peanut right now (more specifically, a boiled peanut, I've decided). But then, when he held the wand just right, there was a heartbeat...this little flutter, flicker of movement, that was my babies heart just beating away in it's little tiny chest. And then the doctor said "It's got a really strong heartbeat."


Bliss

Pure contentment at that moment. And suddenly, it felt real. I looked at Steve, and saw the huge smile on his face, and thought "We are going to be parents!" It just felt like it's been so long coming, and now it's actually happening.

That, my friends, is true happiness.

iphone and other good stuff

So, I got a new iPhone yesterday. And before that? Totally obsessed...like, possibly sick in the head obsessed. It was literally all I thought about for like 2 days....message boards, facebook posts, conversations, everything was about a phone. A PHONE!! As much as I love it, and as wonderful as it is, it's a phone, after all. And I made my husband feel bad. He told me I get so obsessed over things, he feels like nothing he can ever provide me will be enough, because there is always the next thing. OUCH. That one stung.
I don't want to beat up on myself, I want to move forward from this point. The question is how? I really have been feeling lately like I need to buy less, but there are just so many things that look so awesome! I'm bad at saying no to myself, whether it be food, or laziness, or buying things, or whatever.
*sigh* I have no solution...just this desire to make my husband happy, and spend less money, and be smarter with the money we do have...I send it all out into the void.