At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
I pooped today. I truly feel God's eyes upon me.
0 Comments
At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Please, Jesus, please let me poop. I haven't pooped in 3 days and I feel like shit is taking over my entire body. This body belongs to you. You own it. Please let me poop. I hate being pregnant. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
I am no superwoman. That much is clear. I had a really great week this past week (relatively). In fact it was so good I took a long walk yesterday to get a decaf vanilla latte and a scone from Kickstand. Turns out that was a horrible idea. By the time I got home I felt terrible, and I have continued to feel terrible throughout today. I slept almost the entire day, only stopping my intermittent napping around 3pm. Then tonight I barfed up the entire contents of my stomach. Everything feels like shit. It is still so hard to remember to pray for the little one. Mostly because I am barely holding it together myself. Already, I see my innate selfishness being challenged. I need and want to be praying for this little one, but all my mind is occupied with is simply keeping myself upright instead of doubled over. The complicated and eternal conflict between the mother and the child's needs starts immediately. Jesus, I need you so desperately. I need you to sustain me physically – especially in times like this when I can still smell my vomit in my nostrils despite washing, brushing, and gargling. I need you to keep me from withdrawing into myself, nursing my selfishness when everything hurts so much. I need you to be my joy and my comfort. I need you to remind me to keep my eyes on you, remembering that even now, when everything about my body discomforts and consumes me, my hope is not in the arrival of the second trimester, but it remains, as it always has been, in hiding my life in your hands, receiving the strong spiritual support and succor from you that you promise. You are how I can make it through this period – not the right foods, medicines, or routines. So I call on you, now – please support and sustain me. Please comfort this one small body of mine that persists in reminding me of my weakness. Please encourage my heart and give me hope. Please be my God tonight and through coming weeks. Amen. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Last week we had our first sonogram. It was amazing. First off, there's only one in there, which is good. I was feeling so sick that I had half convinced myself I was having twins. We could see the baby's heartbeat on the screen and at one point, the baby moved. Otherwise he sat pretty still. I've been having a difficult time not feeling anxious. This is the period in which a friend had her miscarriage, and even though I know everyone is different and all of my sickness is only a good sign, it's still hard not to worry. We have another appointment in two weeks – it's a Downs screening and we'll have a super high tech ultrasound. I feel like I just have to get to that appointment and then we're probably pretty good to go. But it's hard to not worry. I haven't been feeling as sick over the weekend (even though I still threw up on Saturday night like clockwork), and even though I absolutely know it's not the reason, I find myself worrying that I'm feeling less sick because I've miscarried. The really stupid thing is that I keep thinking, "I don't want to miscarry because then I'd have to start over with all of this sickness!" As if by being so sick I'm due a healthy baby. I'm not of course, but man, it is the most demoralizing thought to think that I could be so sick for so long with no results and then have to start over with all of the sickness all over again with no guarantees of success. And this, this, is where I start to see the depths of my self-focus. I struggle to remember to pray for my baby because I am so focused on praying for myself to feel better. And I don't want to miscarry because I don't want to have to endure another first trimester without a baby. I don't think these feelings and desires are bad in and of themselves; it's ok for me to want to feel better and it's ok to recognize that a fruitless morning sickness would really suck. But at the same time, this is a new life we are talking about and all I can think of is myself. Oh Jesus, please rework my soul. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Oh my gosh. Why haven't I been praying for this kid every day? All I can think about is how sick I feel and I haven't started praying for this child. Lord God, this may be a relatively small and insignificant thing, but it is significant in my life and is in Trey's life. Lord, tonight I ask that you would bless our child with a different stomach than his father and mother have. Lord, I pray for a physically resilient digestive system for our little baby, because not having good stomachs has brought so much ridiculous grief to Trey and myself and I just really, really do not want our child to inherit how terrible our stomachs are. Lord, as you knit together this little one, please bless him with digestive health and vigor. Please. Amen. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Yesterday I had my first doctor’s appointment. I hate doctors and doctors’ offices, so when I first arrived I was quite suspicious. I don't like it when I feel like a doctor is looking down on me. Thankfully the nurse I saw was great. She was very upbeat and assertive, but not in a domineering way. And not fake. Trey said she did a lot of "girl talk" but I didn't pick up on it. I sat there and felt like she was my lifeline in all of this chaos. Pretty much all she did was tell me that everything I'm experiencing is completely normal, but it was what I needed. I am working on feeling grateful even throughout how sick I've been. Yesterday I came home from the doctors and completely crashed. I couldn't do anything – truly. Last night I threw up everything in my stomach. But apart from all of that, I find myself remembering how remarkable it is that I have been able to get pregnant pretty much right away. The first month I charted (and it was an incredibly bad attempt at it!), I conceived. I'm 32, I have numerous friends who have not been able to conceive, and many more friends who had to work at it for a couple of months, and here I am pregnant right off the bat. It definitely wasn't perfect timing. I was really counting on having to try for a couple of months - but it is such a good reminder that other people's advice is just that – other people's. People tend to view their own experiences as authoritative and because of it, I've lived for years in fear and anxiety due to certain people's skepticism about my ability to have children starting this late. But this has been one big reminder that everyone is there own – my story is my own and I will find out along the way what I am and am not capable of. I can hear what other people say, but I don't need to listen. I am so incredibly thankful to the Lord for this gift. Because that is what it is. It's bad timing and it's physical hell, but it is a precious, precious gift from him. He gave it to me and so I celebrate it and lay my anxiety to rest. ********************* I never thought there would be a day I missed my period. But morning sickness has made me miss my period. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts Oh, my mother Eve, why did you bring this chaos into my body? I woke up this morning discouraged and sad, crying from being so overwhelmed with the physical reality that is procreation. And now I just feel this huge, gulfing grief as its full meaning and reality sinks into my consciousness. Things did not have to be these way. Things were not supposed to be this way. Eve, my sister and mother, why did you do this? The effects of your decision, of your sin, hurt in my body. They hurt every day. What should be rejoicing is not – it is the slow grind of nausea, and soreness, and exhaustion. Even the production of life is tainted by the pain which only death brings. In this world, for life to go on, life must be sacrificed. This is the consequence of my mother's actions. The female body is a place of chaos. Once Eve let it in, everything we have striven for is to reduce the effects of chaos within ourselves. Attempts to conceive, attempts not to conceive, attempts to live through childbirth, attempts to ease the pain of childbirth, attempts to understand it and to study – all of this has been woman's collective attempt to regain what was lost in Eden. Just as the apple entered into Eve's stomach, blood stream, and very physical reality, so too did the chaos of separation from God. Many people speak of the brokenness of sin, but let's not forget that brokenness looks and feels like a chaotic mess. A day is coming, though, when the chaotic work of women will be finished. Just as Eve’s digestion of the apple symbolizes the real reality of sin, so too does our digestion of the bread and blood symbolize for us the real reality of Christ’s redemption. Eating is central to our spiritual reality, for it is central to our very lives. Eating, holy and unholy, in the Biblical narrative reminds us of the physical parameters within which we understand both our fallenness and our redemption. Matthew 22:30 says, "For in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven." I used to find this passage overwhelmingly sad and I have cried many times to Trey about it. But it is only sad when read according to our post-Victorian romantic sensibilities. It's only sad when marriage is fundamentally about your own self-fulfillment. When it is read through the lens of Genesis 1-3, with an eye to the notion that marriage implies expansion, work, procreation – the establishment of something – then this pronouncement by Christ tells us, "It will be finished." The time of marriage as an act of creation will come to end, and with it, all of the chaos of this fallen reality. My painful work to produce life here on earth will be fulfilled and will be closed. I will not be subject to this chaotic reality for eternity – a change is coming. Eve, the Lord will redeem you. He will redeem your bloody and cursed decisions; he has already redeemed your eating. He will redeem the passing on of such evil through all generations even unto my day. You ruined everything; God will restore it. And I very much look to that day with anticipation. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
No one could have explained to me the realities of pregnancy before I actually fell victim to it. I feel like shit. Jesus, please aid me. I am calling out to you! Please give me some relief. I am weak and wasted and it's only been one week. I don't know how to cope with this for another six weeks. Please hold me in your bosom and give me rest. Please touch my body with your healing – restore my energy, ease my pain, soften this blow so that I might faithfully do the work you have given me to do. Amen. The Red Farm House, Dresden, Maine
PREGNANCY SUCKS!!! I feel like I am dying and have been for a week. Every day I think, "I should start feeling better soon," because my mind only naturally knows how to think in terms of NORMAL illness, and then I have the horrible realization that, no, I am going to feel this way for a minimum of six more weeks. My boobs hurt, I feel nauseous all the time, I don't want to eat anything, when I do eat I get bloated, when I don't eat I get bloated, eggs make me want to puke, I am exhausted more than I ever have been in life, and I am at my wits ends as to how I am going to work two part time jobs and write thesis and take my final class. That is a lot to try to do just in normal, real life. Thinking about trying to do all this pregnant has put me into tears twice already in the last five days. And none of this even gets at trying to be there for my husband, family, and friends. Trey has been a champ. He's taken care of me and run around to do random things for me. I just wish I could stop belching in his face every time I open my mouth. He is for sure enjoying all of this a lot more than I am so far. I think he's already got the pregnancy glows – I just want to curl up into a ball and survive. When I am able to come above surface, I still don't have any glowy feelings. I worry about how I'm going to have the energy to get everything done and then I worry about my worrying – I don't want this baby to come into the world through a mom who is a stressed wreck. When I don't think about all of those things, my mind starts to wonder about the chances of my baby forming with problems. So many things are going on inside my body – how in the world does it not go wrong? How is it that so many babies do come out normal? We're at an Airbnb in Maine and, thankfully, it's been a good 36 hours to reset and recharge. I am starting to feel a little better – a little – and it doesn't totally feel like weeds all around me. We pretty much have just sat in bed and read for the majority of our time here and it's been wonderful. That and walk to the water to just sit on a rock in the sunshine and gaze. Two nights ago, I lay in bed and felt like I was truly at the end of my rope with this new physical reality. Everything felt horrible and I couldn't think of what to do to make it better. And then I remembered – God has always been the God who hears pregnant women. God created this chaos and ordained it – and he has been the intimate friend of Eve, Sarah, Leah and Rachel, Hannah, Mary, and so many others before me. Now, if ever, God is with me. I cried out to him. I didn't get instant relief in my body, but my soul was sweetened. All I can do is accept this reality and accept God's closeness to me in it as I suffer. Perhaps I will not be able to do everything I have on the agenda. Perhaps this is the end of my rope – the end of my plans, projects, and aspirations – but it is not the end of life. It is the beginning of life and that is something God smiles upon and holds me in. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Well. I'm pregnant. After years of complaining, processing, and thinking about this, here it is. I'm not even sure I comprehend it. Out of nowhere, with no expectations, I'm pregnant. Last week, before I knew it to be a reality and only suspected it, I was peeking around the corner at awe. But this week, now that it is reality, all I feel is the physicality of it. My head hurts, my stomach is weird, and I have never ever felt more fatigued in my life. It's hard to think about awe when your body feels like it's crumpling from within. It is an awe-full thing. It ended up being so easy and so natural – not hard at all. Life taking its course in the most literal of meanings. And that is terrifying. Most of all, I simply find myself once again being scandalized and terrorized by the goodness of God demonstrated in it. God does not scare me when I believe him to be stern or demanding; but, I find him to be absolutely harrowing when he blesses me abundantly. How can such a great God deign to see me? Why would he do such a thing? It is his goodness that slaps the defiance off of my face and leaves me feeling naked and afraid. A God who withholds seems to give me space to raise a fist. A God who freely gives can only be met by my complete submission. For more than two years, I have believed that I was doomed. Maybe I still will be. Maybe I will miscarry and will get the woe I so often believe is rightfully mine. But right now, as new life begins to grow inside my tummy, I feel God laughing at me. Not mocking me, not spiting me, not even shaking his head at me. Just laughing for the joyful mirth of proving my countless wayward doubts wrong. Laughing as a Father laughs with joy over the blunders of his child. Laughing in love. The last three weeks have been some of the most chaotic and miserable of my life. But it feels as if a note has been struck, and its ringing in the air both creates and demands a silence within my heart. Be quiet. Be quiet now. The ripples of this moment will spread forth in waves, but this is a moment of silence. This is a moment to let life lie as it is, to stop, to let be. The Lord is good. And he sits on his throne in heaven. Amen. (Image by Percy French, "Mayo Mermaids.") |
About the ProjectThis is a very personal project. It tracks my growth and development as I journeyed toward motherhood over the recent years. It doesn't document every experience I had, and probably neglects my more joyful and peaceful moments in the frenzy of trying to communicate my fears, anxieties, and doubts. If you are a friend or loved one, please do not let anything you read here overshadow what you know of me personally. If you are a stranger, please remember that a living and flawed person stands behind these words. To all my guests here, please understand these are not political statements and try to extend me grace, even as I share my failures and foibles - I have repented of much of what I share. I don't share this journal as an exemplar, but rather out of the desire to share my hope that entrance to motherhood does not need to be a fearful thing - despite the very real fears I have fought against. Motherhood is simply a part of life and one through which I am discovering more of myself and my God. Archives
May 2017
Categories
All
|