I am a mess.

I really could just leave it at that.

It's funny, insomnia seems to have left me and I am finally sleeping well even though each time I move shooting pain is sent down my back and through my hip. The theory is that I have a pinched (sciatic) nerve, or my hips are not aligned right, or most likely both. My back has been aching more and more the last few weeks, but in the last week it has spread to my hips and gotten so bad that I can barely walk. I waddle around, wincing with each step, uncontrollable moans and groans escape my mouth. It's become so noticeable that Aiden has taken to imitating me. "Oooh, my back mommy! Ouch! Kiss it!" I wish a kiss would make the problem go away. When I realized my pain had reached a "10" and was still getting worse each day, I decided it was time to ask for help. I got a massage. Worse. So I went to the chiropractor. Still worse. I am told chiropractors, though they claim to work like magic, are not in fact magicians, and that the cracking and crunching takes time to work. So I am set up to see this chiropractor 2-3 times a week until the pain goes away, or I have my baby, or both. Let's pray it works before I have to endure labor and delivery.

Despite my pain, which should be keeping me off my feet, I soldier on. I have tasks to do! I find tears making their way to my eyes as I hobble back and forth in agony around the house trying to clean, organize, and finish last minute touches to Gabriel's room. I am a woman obsessed. I refuse to let labor catch me off guard- I will be ready! That's the plan anyway. This is probably how I got in this mess to begin with. I'm just not sure what else to do but keep going. To sit still is more torturous than the invisible knives that stab through me when I move. So I sigh. I moan. Groan, wince, and cry. But this house will be ready, damnit! If it's the last thing I do...

Sunday

I miss Saturday morning breakfast. I miss weekend hikes. I miss coffee dates. I miss my husband! As Aaron walked out the door on this beautiful Saturday morning on Easter weekend, I couldn't help but feel nostalgic for days before life required so much work. Most days he is out by 7:00 a.m. and not back until 8-9:00 p.m. Don't get me wrong, I am very excited for the business, which has doubled in size with each season. I could not be more proud of my husband and his ability to work so hard from dawn till dusk six days a week, but I sure do miss him. On the brighter side, this year is better than last in that he has promised Sundays off. That's a start!

A few days ago, I came home to find a beautiful bouquet sitting on my dresser with a sweet note from Aaron that only I would understand. It was our wedding ceremony anniversary which I had completely forgotten but Aaron had not! Even though he couldn't be home till late that night, he always makes a point to make things special for me. I am thankful for that.

I have been so consumed with being ready for Gabriel's upcoming birth I have forgotten a few things about this weekend. Tomorrow is Sunday. Aaron's day off. Easter. And Aaron's birthday. Can't get much better than that! Unfortunately we cannot go visit family for Easter since I'm so close to my due date and they were unable to come to us. We'll be celebrating Aaron's birthday party next week joint with my brother-in-law's, so today my main task is to come up with a creative way to make Easter and Aaron's birthday a special one, without friends and family, and on a very tight budget. Wish I had started thinking sooner. Wish me luck!

Letting go. And cleaning.

God is in control. I have heard this, seen this, and claimed this my entire life. Now I continue to slowly learn to believe and trust it. I have felt God speaking this over me the last few days especially as I fret and worry about all the big and little things going on in my life, the life of friends, and throughout the world. I have been stressing about everything lately. This morning I woke around 4:30 feeling achy, crampy, and restless. I keep having dreams that I am in labor because my discomfort is translating as labor pains in my dreams. My back hurts all the time. I used to think women who waddled around holding their backs looked so silly, I didn't feel that kind of posture necessary when pregnant with Aiden. Now I understand. I still try not to waddle, but each step sends pain into my lower back and abdomen. Heaven forbid I need to bend over or pick something up!

I am really not liking this stage. The physical side of things is bad enough, then there is the emotional. Poor Aaron comes home each night to a ranting or tearful wife who cannot be convinced that anything will ever be ready ever. He joins me on late night trips to Walmart to pick up last minute things, as I am determined to be as ready as I can by the end of this week. After getting what we need, I roam the aisles putting anything in the basket I think we could possibly use. For anything. Ever. Aaron then helps me put things back on the shelves as I realize stores will still exist after Gabriel is born. I don't think I was ever quite this crazy even at this point in my pregnancy with Aiden. Then again, I do recall making a 3:00 a.m. trip to Walmart one night...

This nesting stage is teaching me a lot. On one hand, it's frustrating because I want to relax and enjoy these last weeks of pregnancy, but on the other hand I can't help but feel anxious and rather crazy with these urges to be completely ready. My sister and her husband are currently staying in Gabriel's room until our friend who is living in our shop can move out and they can move down there. It is completely worth it to have them here, but not being able to set up the room is almost torture! Also, I finally received Gabriel's bassinet in the mail- the last item on my list- only to find that the screws and manual were missing and now it may take another week to get them! Deep down I know it's all going to work out. I am trusting the room will be ready before Gabriel is born, and really when I think about it, it is not the end of the world if it's not. But it feels like it is sometimes. I have a strong desire to control, but also know that I really don't have any control over the things I want to control most. There is not much I can do now but trust. And clean. So that is what I will do.

Life, oh life!

Today is a good good day. It is 73 degrees. My son is actually napping (he's been on strike). I already ran several errands this morning. And I am finally doing a few chores around the house I've been putting off for some time. Tasks for today: 1) go through Aiden's toys and get rid of and store any excess/outgrown toys, 2) clean laundry room, 3) wash and put away all Gabriel's clothes and cloth diapers, 4) try not to eat EVERYTHING! (Seriously, what am I going to do with myself? Only a month left and it's like my body is storing up for a marathon. Hungry all the time.)

My sister had a side cleaning job this morning and then left this afternoon to visit family in Charlotte for the weekend. Funny how I wait till she's not around to be productive. We haven't lived together or even near each other in over 8 years, so I guess I've just been soaking up the time I get to spend with her reminiscing and catching up on the last two years. Let me tell you something, there's nothing like having someone live with you, witnessing your everyday life, to reveal how very lame your life is. Well, I won't jump to general statements just yet, perhaps yours would be fascinating. Let's just say, having my sister around all time suddenly made me realize how very uneventful my life really is right now. Don't get me wrong, I have felt it. Boredom has had it's heavy toll on my weary soul these last few months. Now with Gabriel coming so soon, I mean, I really thought I'd have something going on by this point despite my new year's resolution (remember my claim to "not make any plans"?). Things I have accomplished since the new year: 1) growing a baby, 2) spending a lot of time with my ever fascinating, ever thought-provoking toddler, 3) enjoying the last I will see of my husband, 4) a whole lot of not getting stuff done, 5) mulling, mulling, mulling thoughts and words of God, 6) waiting- rather impatiently I might add. With all the procrastinating and no plans going on, you'd think I spent my time earnestly seeking God as I felt him constantly calling me to do. In reality, he had to wake me night after night when my living room was freezing and my only options were to be miserable or spend time with him. Confession: Did you know that my laptop's screen mysteriously broke this winter and that our desktop sits in my unheated dining space? We lent our extra space heater to a friend for the winter and we always let the fire die at night. I was tempted several of my sleepless nights to watch Hulu instead of read, but the cold always drove me back to my bed where my Bible lay. My sister had a quote on her status the other day that I can't stop thinking about.


‎"[God] is not proud...He will have us even though we have shown that we prefer everything else to Him." -C.S. Lewis

Could this be true? My heart wants to believe that God wants me. That even though I can do nothing to deserve his grace and love, he would offer it endlessly anyway. But my mind. My dense, stubborn, useless mush of a mind. She won't let me believe it whole heartedly. I still try to prove myself to God. Fall short every time. But I still convince myself I'll just try a little harder, and one day I'll be worth it. God? Do you hear this? Do you laugh at my foolishness? Or do you weep at my sorry condition? I can say all the right words, yet I continue to dizzy myself on this merry-go-round of false pretenses. This last weekend God practically forced me to go to this ladies prayer retreat. I mean, what's a prayer retreat, really? I had no idea, and I wasn't really interested, but somehow my heart would not rest and I showed up anyway. I have been shy with prayer lately. I knew God would speak, but I was not ready to hear. What would he say? I could only imagine him calling me out on my short-comings and telling me how selfish, half-hearted, and unfaithful I was being. Instead? He blessed me. He gave me promises I can't explain (I've tried several times, I end up crying or stuttering and making no sense). I could not believe that in all my hard-headed stubbornness, he chose to comfort me instead of reprimand me. It kind of makes me blush. In fact, despite the reality of the experience I had, I have been somewhat in denial this whole week. My heart is still digesting. My mind? She'll come around eventually.

I haven't been blogging much lately. One, I am exhausted. I've reached the point of no return, there is simply no catching up on rest for me from this point on. Two, my sister Serenity and her husband are living with us now! This second one I am beyond excited about. Robbie is working with Aaron and Serenity is babysitting for a few people and helping me out a lot. They'll be here until they start hiking the AT in July. So yes, Serenity will be here for the first couple months after Gabriel is born- huge relief! God has heard my pitiful cry after all!
As Gabriel's arrival gets closer, it's about all I can think about. I'm moving out of the nervous stage and into the crazy nesting stage. Part of me is worried I'll never be ready enough (experience tells me this is probably true), and part of me could care less as long as it means not being pregnant anymore! I'm pretty over the big-round-belly, constant peeing, and never-ending fatigue. This pregnancy has been a lot easier than my last, which has convinced me, I don't think it matters how good or bad it is, I just don't like being pregnant. Don't worry, I don't need any lectures on what a miracle making new life is and what a precious gift it is. I know these things and I am thankful for the experience. But I think for a long while, very possibly forever, I am done with pregnancy. I love my boys with an undying love, I take pride in being their mother, and if God were to bless me with more children I would be grateful. I just hope not to have to carry anymore in my belly.
At the end of my pregnancy with Aiden I spent a lot of time cleaning and day dreaming. I had no idea what to expect, so I worried little about what I would need and thought more about what it would be like to simply hold him in my arms. This time around, I've found myself focusing a whole lot more on what I need for Gabriel. I know now what I can't go without- and what I never want to go without again. In one sense it makes the wait a little easier, as my desire to be "ready" balances my desire to not be pregnant. But it's hard for me to imagine actually holding Gabriel. Holding a baby, that is mine, that is not Aiden. It's a weird concept to grasp. I have a sense of who he is and what he may be like, but to imagine physically holding him in my arms and joining him to our everyday family life from there on out... I simply can't imagine it yet!

A Weekend for Two. Or three... or four...?

After over two and a half years, I finally got up the nerve to leave my baby boy over night. My mom offered to take him for the weekend so that Aaron and I could have a couple days to ourselves before the birth of Gabriel and the insanely busy months of summer (a combination I am still a little nervous about). I understand that it is probably long over due, but honestly I've thought, what's the rush? He is only a baby once, and when he's out grown that title and the sacred bedtime routine that goes with it, I'll happily hand him over to the grandparents as often as they like. Until then, my hesitance will most likely remain.

As the weekend approached I thought of list after list of details and directions I needed to write down for my mom. I figured sticking to routines and familiar foods and activities would make it easier for him not to notice my absence. Well, the weekend snuck up on me, and I barely finished packing his things by the time they were ready to leave, much less wrote the novel I intended. Plus I started to wonder if I was being overly controlling. My mom has raised eight kids after all, she could handle Aiden for a weekend. He was happily distracted by his cousins who had come with my mom and didn't even seem to notice I was not joining them in the car. I didn't want to make a big deal of him leaving, but an ache more intense than any homesickness clung to me as I watched them drive away.

I happily distracted myself that night. My sister and her husband had just arrived back from the Dominican Republic so we made plans to go to dinner. A double date. No babysitter required! It felt freeing, but at the same time it was a hard concept to grasp. I kept thinking I was forgetting something, like one of those bad dreams where you suddenly remember you forgot to feed your baby all week- or that you even had one. I hate those dreams. By the time we were done with dinner and on our way to the Chocolate Lounge for drinks, the dull ache in my stomach had turned into straight nausea. When my mom called me around 10:00 p.m. with a sobbing Aiden crying for me to come to him, I thought I was going to hurl or burst into tears myself. This was supposed to be easy! I thought to myself angrily, recalling all the stories people tell me of how hard it is to leave your child for the first time but how once you do it's "totally worth it". I was not convinced. I struggled to fall asleep that night, but felt comforted by the fact that I would get to sleep in the next morning- with Aaron. That was a rare treat!

4:30 a.m. Bing! My mind was suddenly aware of a painful sensation in my lower abdomen. My first thought was that someone was kicking me and it hurt. Then I realized someone was kicking me. And it did hurt. I really had to pee and the someone who was kicking me (or punching?) was Gabriel- it felt like he was deliberately grinding his heels right into my bladder. I rushed to the bathroom, almost falling over and walking into a wall in the process as my mind and equilibrium tried to keep up with my flight to the toilet. After a few incoherent thoughts of giving Gabriel a serious time-out, I dragged my feet back to bed thinking I was so tired I would have no problem falling back to sleep. Instead I tossed and turned for an hour before finally caving to hunger. Fine, cereal and the book of John it is. I thought to myself, slightly more than peeved not to have a vacation from insomnia. When I still couldn't sleep by 6:45 I decided to wake Aaron. This was our weekend and if I couldn't sleep then we would make the best of it! Luckily my desperate enthusiasm and sleep-deprived eyes were enough to convince Aaron that getting up to the see the sunrise was a good substitute to boring ol' sleep.

As we drove up the parkway we reminisced about our dating days. Although romantic drives on the parkway were common in those days, they always felt just as special as they did that morning. We talked about the past, the present, the future. Allowing ourselves to dream as we watched the orange and purple creep up over the grey mountains. We sat there until our stomachs groaned, then made our way to our favorite breakfast cafe. That's right, Morning Glory, baby! We had plans of going hiking after breakfast, but first had to meet one of Aaron's clients who were going out of town that day and wanted to pay him for a job he had done and make an estimate on another. We had an agreement of absolutely NO work, but who can argue with getting paid? It was actually really nice to see Aaron in his element. I've seen the work he's done, I know he's awesome at his job, but to see him all professional, talking the lingo, coming up with figures, explaining what needed to be done and how he'd do it, and seeing how happy his clients were with the work he had already done... I was impressed to say the least. As my friend Sam would say: "I'm not gonna lie- it was hot."

The rest of the weekend continued to not go as planned. We intended to spend lots of time outdoors in the mountains, eat at all our favorite places, stay up late, and sleep in. Well unfortunately, my body decided after the lack of sleep and constant going of the week before that it was going to collapse on me. Nausea, similar to the night before, hit me again around noon. I continued to feel nauseas, light-headed, dizzy, and out of breath throughout the rest of the afternoon with little relief, although I forced myself to keep going. This was our weekend, damnit! I would not waste it! We spent most of the day in the car as I'd usually find that once we arrived at our destination I did not feel well enough to get out. To top it all, we received a call from Aaron's work partner who had left that morning to pick up a trailer in Charlotte, informing us that his truck had broken down minutes after getting the trailer! So for the rest of the day and into the night Aaron was on and off the phone and computer trying to talk him through the process of fixing the truck and trying to figure out if anyone else could go pick up the trailer. We finally decided it just made more sense for us to drive down there ourselves since we had to go the next day to pick Aiden up anyway. Our romantic "get-away" weekend had unraveled before I even noticed the loose string.

I ended up watching Aiden the next morning while my mom went to church and Aaron ran around trying to find the right sized trailer hitch for his truck. We hung out with family that afternoon, then Aaron spent the last few hours we were there cutting down some big dangerous branches that hung over my parent's driveway. Ok, I know what you're thinking, this sounds awful! I must be fuming, or at least severely disappointed. I think part of me wanted to be, but honestly, we had a lot of fun. I was secretly pretty happy to spend that morning with Aiden after two nights away. Aaron and I had a lot of fun hanging out with my brother and sister (James and Jenteal, for those of your wondering which!) who joined us for a delicious lunch at the Asia Market then took us to a quaint French cafe in downtown Charlotte (or "NoDa" specifically, as I am told it's called). And I loved seeing how insanely happy my mom was to have her tree safe and healthy again. Although I won't say I'll rush to drop Aiden off at anyone's house for a weekend again anytime time soon, it was good to see he could go a couple days without me and survive- and even have fun (besides screaming for me every night). And though the weekend wasn't at all what we had in mind, anytime I felt tempted to complain about that fact, I couldn't help but not. Now that's a first!

My Cocoon

"...I broke the twig from the limb and carried the cocoon home. For this was my cocoon. My darkness. My soul incubating within.
   Back home I carefully taped the twig with the cocoon to a branch of a crab tree in my backyard. [Later,] I stood at the window watching the cocoon, which hung in the winter air like an upside-sown question mark. Live the question, God whispered.
   Knowledge descended into my heart and I understood. Crisis, change, the myriad upheavals that blister the spirit and leave us groping- they aren't voices simply of pain but also of creativity. And if we would only listen, we might hear such times beckoning us to a season of waiting, to the place of fertile emptiness."
   - Sue Monk Kidd

I am a torn and selfish human being. Not that I am unique in this description. In fact, it's a big part of what causes me to blend in despite my individual characteristics. But it disturbs me no less. As I lay awake last night yet again and tried not to think, I thought a lot about a lot of things. Mostly me. God. My family. The future. The world as we know it. The world to come. The more I thought, the more I wondered what I was supposed to think. As I read through the book of John the answers I found brought up more questions, more confusion, more of a desire to know. Then I realized, I was sick of thinking and I was sick of asking. I just wanted to know. I get discouraged when I don't know, I feel as though I am doing something wrong, or not doing something right enough. I'm tired of the internal struggle, I want to hitch a ride on the escalator to the next life and bypass the hassle of the journey.  I'm an American damnit, I have my rights to the easy way! And this is where I had a little heart to heart with God. Why do I have to keep waking at 3:00 a.m for hours on end? Really, if you would let me sleep I could get up earlier and read the word then. Am I even getting anywhere with these hours of tired half-awareness? As I tried to convince God that the lack of sleep is really not doing anyone any good, I finally came to the conclusion that sleep was not going to come at all. Ever. Again. It was a useless fight, my choices were to sit there in misery, not accomplishing anything, or comply. Except I wasn't sure what it even meant to comply. I'm still not really. I have this vague sense like God is calling me. I keep trying to say, Speak Lord, for your servant is listening. But I can't tell if I am really saying it. Does that make sense?

I have been rather hypocritical. I speak of life and its hills and waves and how it's a journey, that some big climax and fairy tale endings are not to be expected. I say that, but then I find myself sitting around anxiously waiting for the climax in my life. I endlessly pine after the fairytale ending I secretly long for. The fact that I am not satisfied constantly haunts me. I try to forge feelings of deep spirituality and soul-quenching emotion, but the honest truth is.... funny how I thought I might be able to finish that sentence once I started it. The honest truth is, I'm still trying to figure out what the honest truth is. I used to rededicate my life to God every few months, thinking, or at least hoping, that with each dedication it would be a little more real or long-lasting. I kept waiting for the time when I would finally reach some epiphany that would drastically change my life forever, allowing me to never need another re-dedication because I had some how "made it" to the plateau of my Christian walk with God. I have long since given up this theory. Or so I thought. Sometimes it creeps back into my confused subconscious.

I keep waiting for some big, new, ground-breaking truth that forces me to change completely, and hopefully all at once. Instead I feel the painful agony of lies being revealed and then slowly chipped away from my innermost being. Lies I didn't even realize I still- or ever- believed. And so I find myself relating to words and passages that hint at questions my mouth doesn't know how to express. I can taste it there at the tip of my tongue, all that I long for but can not yet attain. And then it hits me for a split second or two. This is all part of the inescapable journey. Not signs that I am failing, but that God is answering my heart's call to be changed.