At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
 
Today is a big day for Nation family reproductive history. This is my first day off of the pill.
 
I've been trying to write about the end of using the pill for a few days now, but I just haven't been able to do so until now. It honestly just didn't really register until last night when I went to set my alarm for this morning. I didn't set my 9:00am alarm for the pill and though I haven't set it for a week every month for the last four years, this was what caused the reality to really hit home. I don't intend to really ever set that alarm again. An era of my reproductive life has concluded.
 
Birth control is a funny thing and I've been thinking about it a lot recently. I am deeply thankful for its invention and thankful that I live in a time and age in which I have the option of easily separating sex from procreation for a time. Granted, it does mean that I have been constantly tempted to view those things as fundamentally separated and fundamentally in my control, but I also have had the opportunity to learn the lesson of surrendering my will to God. I get to choose to step into a new role, following the Lord as I do so.
 
This thing – motherhood – is not my own story. I belong to the bigger story of Eve – the story which involves helping and suffering, adoption and heirs, waiting and promises, the Bride and childbirth. I don't get to choose whether I face a reckoning with this story. I live in a time and place in which the world is constantly trying to trick me into thinking that I can escape this story if I want to, that I can wrest this story into being my own, and mine alone. But all women everywhere will stand face to face with their potential, abandoned, lost, or gained motherhood at some point and decide how to engage this story that has always been bigger than our small individual selves.
 
Lord, I am small and I am usually pretty afraid of this story that you have spun into motion. And most days I think that by expelling a baby from my womb, I will inevitably expel my brains along with it. But I am trying, really trying to believe that the story you created is not a harmful story for my person. That you did not make me second rate. That by being a mother, I will not be losing everything you have created me to be. That you have created me to be a self and a mother, and that I do not need to be a mother to be a self. And ultimately, that motherhood was not intended to be a destructive force that shuts down a woman's gifts, talents, and strengths, but rather something that can be wondrous.

(Image by Erik Cleves Kristensen, "Mother painting.")

At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
 
I just had an amazing experience with my body. I don't think I've ever experienced something quite like it before. I've come close, but not like this. I went for a run. I really didn't want to run, but I made myself go. It's cold today, but at least it's sunny. And I was feeling really, really depressed. It was that stupid kind of depression – over literally nothing, but a quicksand of despair. I remember the book I had to read while I was in counseling said that for many people, depression feels like drowning. Well today, I didn't necessarily feel like I was drowning, but it did feel like at any moment the waters could close up over my head. I was working at the Athenaeum and on the subway ride home, I had to put all of my focus into not letting the waters close over my head. That's when I decided I needed to go for a run. I know I'm PMSing right now, and every medical person has always told me that exercise is really good for severe PMS, but I've never taken it seriously. That's not a statement on how lightly I take my PMS, but rather how severely I hate exercise. But nonetheless, I decided to run. Lately, I haven't been listening to anything while I run. Initially it was because I just got lazy after I finished The Magician King, but I've started really liking it. I can hear and feel my body so much better when I'm not thinking about whatever I'm listening to. It's only because I've been running since Christmas that this can work, though. Until recently, I needed distraction from my body in order to run, but now, something is changing. I have got to be one of the worst runners ever, mostly due to my horrible lungs. But also due to my horrible inability to put my mind over my physical desires. I simply stop running whenever it's too uncomfortable. But I've been trying really hard to use my mind to overcome my discomfort and push myself. It's been slowly working a little bit, but something really different happened today. First, my knee was feeling weird, but I stopped and tested it and stretched it and everything seemed ok, so I made myself keep going. It was fine. Then, on the last half of my run, my usual mental/lung shut down started happening, but something inside of me just said, "No. Do this. Do this now." It all sounds so silly and dramatic, but this is a really really big deal for me. I kept going. And then I kept going some more. And while I ran, it was like I could feel this divide between my brain and my body closing. It felt like something inside of me that had been unzipped was now zipping up. My brain spoke to my body and told it that it it wasn't the enemy, but it still needed to get in line. My body and brain needed to get in step and so they did. Now I'm really going to sound crazy, but this was such a big deal that I actually started crying while on my run. I have never been that aware of my mind's ability to put my body in it's place – not as mind against body, but as mind taking its rightful place within the body.
 
As a woman, my body has so often been my enemy. I don't know why or where it comes from, but I have learned to view my body as my enemy, as my limitation. I don't think men feel this way, but I know many women who do. The moment blood starts coming out of a part of your body that you never really gave all that much thought to, betrayal takes place. Pain becomes a reality that your mind can't overcome and every single month you are reminded that there is disunity within your very physical existence. For me, it takes on the added element of psychological disunity. My PMS is so bad that it has put me on antidepressants, sent me to counseling, and overwhelmed every person I've lived with as an adult. Yesterday, Trey and I got into a massive fight. The fight was no one's fault, but my acting like a teenager was a reminder that at the height of my PMS, I can't even deal with reality accurately. As I told Trey, it is the scariest thing to know that once a month things will happen physiologically that will impact my brain that I will have absolutely no control over. And that will never change.
 
But today my mind was able to overcome while I ran, and that was a big deal. As a woman, I may have learned from a young age that my body is my enemy. But that doesn't mean peace can't be made with it.

(Image by Pablo Picaso, "Nude in An Armchair.")

Boston Athenaeum, Boston, Massachusetts
 
It's a beautiful day at the Athenaeum. I got here right after they opened at 9am and was able to get a table by the window overlooking the Park Street steeple. It's sunny and quiet. I feel like I could just curl up in the patches of sun streaming over my table. I feel really thankful.
 
Friendship makes all the difference in life. On Wednesday, A. came down to eat lunch with me and then I gave her a tour of the Athenaeum. It has been so long since I've had a true, real female friend, and having A. in my life is this remarkable breath of fresh air. I think I had forgotten what it's like to have a girlfriend. I don't feel tired talking to her, I don't feel judged by her in any way, and we enjoy so many of the same things. Our personalities are pretty different, but that just makes it better. Best of all, we're in the same stage of life. We're both in our early thirties and both struggle with the question of having kids. But not because we don't want them; rather, because it's just such a big question and we don't know how to deal with it.
 
When we were touring the Athenaeum, I showed her the children's library and I knew she would love it. All of the precious little books that are all so beautiful and carefully curated. And the cubbies that overlook the cemetery. And all of the sudden, we were talking about having kids at the same time and doing a childcare swap and coming to the Athenaeum together.
 
I am praying so much that God allows us to stay in Boston, because A. is so much the friend I need to get through babies. If there is anyone I could choose to have babies with at the same time and share the experience of motherhood with, it's her. Please, Jesus, please let Trey get into Harvard.

At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
 
Well, I've started reading Taking Charge of Your Fertility. Which is terrifying. WHY do all of these women's health guides always feel like they think they have to romanticize the female bodily experience in order to make us women interested in it? Just be a medical guide, don't try to tell me all of the reasons why I should distrust the medical establishment because they disdain the natural processes and a woman's body.
 
It is exciting, though. Here we go. The lid is about to be taken off of Pandora's box.
 
I do think that we need to wait one month longer before we start trying. I really want to start after the next round, but if I got pregnant right away (and even though it's a big if, it's still an if), I would be due mid-December and that seems crazily difficult to swing with graduation. I guess I could make it work? But one month more isn't going to hurt anyone.
 
Trey found out today that he has been accepted at Brown. Still waiting to hear from Harvard, but at least we know he has Brown. The day has been full of so many thoughts, mostly just thankfulness, but it also puts a lot of my plans and thoughts almost into motion. I am really, incredibly excited for this next stage. I'm excited for where it seems God is leading us, and I am excited for the changes they entail for me, too. I have good work ahead of me: the work of bearing children, the work of mothering, the work of editing, and maybe the work of ministry in the church. Right now, I have really hard work to get my thesis finished, and it is incredibly hard. In the future I hope to have more hard work on a dissertation to do (I discovered an exciting UK option at Birmingham this morning!), but that's for the future. I don't need to prove anything to anyone – I just need to think the thoughts I like to think and see if anyone out there wants to hear them. And in the interim, I'm excited for the hard work of trying to be a mother.

At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
 
I've been feeling incredibly stressed about my thesis - I just don't even know if it makes sense anymore. And I'm only two weeks into reading primary sources. I made the horrible mistake of starting research on PhD programs in the UK in the middle of my most stressed out part of the day and all of the sudden all of my academic self-doubt and fears about putting a pause on everything to try to start a family came rushing back in.
 
Tonight, though, I was thankfully reminded of how much I need to let go – by Anne of Avonlea of all things. I know it is incredibly silly and probably very superficial, but I need Anne in my life. Trey and I decided to spend the evening listening to an audio book and sew and do a puzzle respectively instead of gooning out to TV all night. Anne is just so optimistic and it challenges my pessimism to the core. She is willing to be content and wait for things to come when it's the right time, and though she is just a child's fictional character, I need what she represents. What I have now is so rich and so good. What it looks like I'll probably have for the next six years is also phenomenally good. God has blessed me abundantly after waiting for this time to come, why do I doubt him in the next stage of waiting? There is joy to be found in doing my current work well – I’ve waited years to be able to do so, so I might as well have fun! It may take years before the next stage in my academic career, but really good things will come in between. I don't need to stress. Maybe I just need to start planning a trip back to PEI for this summer.

At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
 
Would you rather... Have children who rebelled, made life a hardship, and you never really knew either way if they loved the Lord, or never have children but live out your life in meaningful ways and joyfully with your spouse?
 
This was the question I asked the car for “peel the onion” on the drive back to Boston from Thanksgiving. Everyone else in the car (R., J., and Trey) chose the second option. I chose the first. And though I couldn't say I would definitely be committed to the choice, I think that choosing it demonstrates growth in my life. I don't think either answer is ultimately right or wrong, but I'm glad that I felt compelled enough by the first answer to go with it in a silly game. Perhaps even if one could never really know about the eternal state of your children, producing life is good in and of itself.

At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
 
It's 11:30 at night and instead of writing I should be putting in another solid hour of homework before going to bed. But I've had so many thoughts about babies swirling around my head for the last two weeks, and since I haven't given myself time to put words down so far, I figure I'm just going to have to take time away from my C.S. Lewis paper if I'm going to write before these thoughts have faded completely.
 
Where to start... I guess I'll work backwards.
 
Since coming home from Thanksgiving, I've had the happy realization that with the arrival of December I'm now about six months away from going off of birth control and starting what seems like the daunting process of "trying to get pregnant." It's kind of heady to think about it. It's adventurous sounding, and kind of crazy sounding. Which is sad, because shouldn't it just feel natural? It is what our bodies are naturally supposed to do. But then again, maybe God created our bodies to involve a sense of adventure.

It also sounds steamy. I couldn't possibly say why, but sex to get pregnant just sounds hot. I know it could start to feel like a task, but I hope it stays exciting. Fingers crossed it's going to be fun.
 
I am really starting to feel ready for this. I'm not ready for parenting, and I sometimes still feel like it will be the end of all I know to be good under heaven, but I'm ready for this next thing. I don't feel baby gaga, but I do feel hopeful. I don't need to be completed, and I'm not bored, but there's a sweetness to it that I'm ready to invite in and take on. While we were home in Pittsburgh, K. came to our party and brought her seven-week old daughter with her. I held her for a long time. I didn't melt and I honestly could have been just as happy talking on the other side of the room, but it was good to be there, holding her. I wish I could come up with some other word to describe it, but I can't think of anything other than "sweetness." It wasn't warm, it wasn't satisfying, it wasn't tender, it wasn’t ovary-provoking, it wasn't holy. It was just sweet. And it was happy.

At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
 
I wrote the following for my Jonathan Edwards class and I want to remember it here.
 
“‘Being sensible that I am unable to do anything without God’s help, I do humbly entreat him by his grace to enable me to keep these resolutions, so far as they are agreeable to his will, for Christ’s sake.’ With these words from Jonathan Edwards as a reminder of my complete dependence on Christ to attain not only my salvation, but also sanctification, I list here a set of twenty-five resolutions. May these resolutions work for my spiritual benefit, and may I avoid creating a law unto myself; for the law ultimately can do no good for my eternal state, apart from the power of the Holy Spirit in me to regenerate and renew my will to live for Christ.
 

1. I resolve to live only unto Christ, focusing the eyes of my heart upon him.
2. I resolve to continue to evaluate and seek God’s calling in my life, working to increase in my ability to obey when and as he leads.
3. I resolve to live out of faith, rather than fear, as I seek and determine God’s call on my life.
4. I resolve to carefully heed words of wisdom from others concerning calling and giftedness, and I resolve not to be unduly swayed by those who are unwise. I resolve to grow in seeking the Lord’s wisdom first, and in my ability to determine what advice is wise and what advice is folly.
5. I resolve to stop listening to my insecurities concerning God’s gifts in my life and to grow in faith in God’s abundant blessing to me as one of his children.
6. I resolve to pursue good work, particularly work in which I sense the Lord’s delight upon me as I use my abilities to accomplish what he has equipped me to do.
7. I resolve to work hard, without complaining or bitterness, and finding joy in the work my hands do.
8. I resolve to be a good steward and to consider seriously throughout my lifetime that which God has given to my care.
9. I resolve to steward the material goods God has given me so that they may not go to waste.
10. I resolve to steward the material goods God has given me in order not to hoard possessions.
11. I resolve to steward the body God has given me, taking care of what I eat and how I exercise so that I do not live a dichotomized life, caring greatly for my soul but neglecting my body. Rather I resolve to glorify God and make use of his gifts to me, unified in body and spirit.
12. I resolve to honor my parents, seeking and learning what this means as an adult, so that peace in my family and heart might abound.
13. I resolve to honor my husband, delight in him, and follow his guidance.
14. I resolve to guard my tongue and speak only in love.
15. I resolve to speak encouraging words to others and avoid a complaining mode of speech.
16. I resolve to guard my heart, working to maintain and foster joy, rather than being given over to its whims.
17. I resolve to pray for joy and seek the Spirit to grow this fruit in my life.
18. I resolve to share my joy with others when it is found, particularly my husband, rather than keeping it quiet to myself.
19. I resolve to share in others’ joys, not only their sorrows, and to grow in my ability to celebrate with others in the good gifts God has given them.
20. I resolve to lay aside all jealousy and envy, delighting in what God gives others.
21. I resolve to reflect upon God’s kindnesses to me when jealousies do arise, and to celebrate the love he has given me.
22. I resolve to grow in forgiveness and charitableness when others have hurt me.
23. I resolve to maintain friendships, working to restore what has been damaged.
24. I resolve to lay aside petty judgments of others and learn to delight in differences.
25. I resolve to value scripture highly and to soak my life in its light and truth.” 

At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
 
I'm in my office. The only light on is my floor lamp. The rest of the house is dark, except that I know a light is on in Trey's office behind the closed door. Modest Mouse is playing. I can see bright white snowflakes in the light of the streetlamp directly outside my window. It's just the light of the computer, the dim light of the lamp, and the flecks against the black night. And I know everything is ok. And this is when I want to have children. The moments when everything is quiet, but not dead, and there is poetry to be breathed. And I want them to know it and to see it and to experience it.