What everyone tells an expectant father
Being an expectant mother, I receive all kinds of advice, horror stories, encouragement, and predictions. Usually I appreciate it and am grateful. Either way, I’m very used to it, and for the most part, everyone tells me something different. Other than the questions, “How are you feeling?” and, “Are you ready?” I don’t get repetitive advice very often.
But my poor husband does. For some reason, there is one word of wisdom that everyone wants to share with him. I have heard this directed towards him dozens of times – the Forecast of Doom for the expectant father:
“You’re never going to sleep again.”
Why is there such a concensus that new fatherhood is one long, sleepless nightmare? Even if he does lose tons of sleep over the next few months (which he probably will), did he gain much from having been warned over and over?
I’m writing this mostly tongue-in-cheek, so don’t feel bad if you’ve warned him once or twice yourself. 
I’m just pondering why this is the first thing that pops into most people’s minds when they’re talking to a first-time father.
The Waiting Game
I’m writing about small things today, because it’s a day of small things for me. And this is, after all, a weblog (one definition of which is “a publicly accessible journal for an individual”). Really, I don’t think that’s the best definition of a blog, but I suppose it’s one of them.
I got online to check the weather for today, preparatory to running some errands. (Yes, I could just step outside, but that can be deceiving.) I had just been thinking, I am so tired today. I don’t remember feeling this physically drained for a long, long time. The advertisement on the weather page was, ironically enough, ”Tired of being tired?” and it showed an athletic man running a marathon or something. That’s what the end of the third trimester feels like – running a marathon. God bless you mamas who do this with two or three preschoolers underfoot!
I’m also feeling rather nauseated today, and have just started having some more back pain and cramping (which woke me up at 6:00 this morning, too). Of course, I interpret everything as a precursor to labor, hoping this-or-that symptom is a sign that things are moving along.
As far as I’m concerned, he can stay in there for a couple more days, though – I’ve been praying he would come this weekend. I just cleaned the bathrooms and vacuumed and paid a bill and washed the dishes, and now I’m going to Babies ‘R’ Us to spend a gift card. Tomorrow I want to finish getting his room set up (as much as I can without a dresser to put things in; my mom is bringing it down when she comes) and pack as much of a hospital bag as I can with things I don’t use on a daily basis. I have the baby’s things ready to take already. I also want to try to find a baby book; I still haven’t decided exactly what I want.
It’s starting to feel like I will be home alone during the day forever, but I keep reminding myself this season will be over in less than two weeks, so I need to enjoy it while I can! I have my list of things to do, but even then I start to get bored and procrastinate, because I am either in Superwoman mode or Supertired mode. However, right now I’m in the happy medium and really enjoying it. It’s a beautiful day – time to get shopping! (Not the most fun thing to do at 9 months pregnant, as I discovered at Walmart on Tuesday.)
Also, A.J. and I watched Monsters, Inc. last night and it was so fun. “Boo” is so cute!
As a side note, for those of you who are interested in knowing when my baby’s born but aren’t friends with me in real life, you can check my Twitter account for updates. I haven’t really been using it lately, but I can update it from my phone, so I may remember to send an update there before I’m out of the hospital and able to update my blog. So if I go silent on you and you happen to be curious, you know where to look.
Nine Months, Baby!
My little Christian is still snug as a bug! I am 39 weeks, 2 days pregnant. (I am also officially 9 months pregnant, as of today.) Last week I had made slight progression (dilated to a fingertip) and this week, I was exactly the same. Alas, all of those Braxton Hicks and backaches don’t seem to have been moving me along at all.
My doctors (I rotate through a team of five female doctors and one midwife) don’t want me to go past 41 weeks. They will induce if I get to that point, which is 12 days from now.
Today’s doctor spent awhile talking with me about induction. She said it would be extremely hard on me if they induced me now while my cervix is so unfavorable. It would take days for me to progress, in all likelihood, and induction increases the risk of needing a C-section. However, she also said that in inducing past 41 weeks, the risk of a C-section is lower as compared to inducing before 41 weeks.
I do not want to be induced – it increases the risk of other interventions. It makes me more likely to get an epidural because contractions come on more quickly and strongly, thus more painfully. If my body is not ready to give birth, I’ll be less likely to progress, which may mean fetal distress and/or a C-section.
Of course, induction isn’t the end of the world. Lots of women are induced with no problems. I know there are benefits to inducing once I’m a week past my due date, and I’m not against it – I just hope it won’t be necessary.
If you think of me, blog readers, please pray that my body will prepare to deliver my baby on its own over the next week and a half. It’s still quite possible - I’m not even officially “due” yet, and things can happen very quickly.
Either way, Lord willing, we will be welcoming little Christian into the world in less than two weeks! God is good!
Devastation in Haiti
I am praying for my dad, who is currently in Haiti working with a medical team there.
Watching this video humbles me.
“You love Jesus, you teach the Bible, you marry a woman, you have four children, you’re serving the Lord in ministry, and now your wife is gone, your church is gone, your home is gone, Bible college is gone… So why do you smile? Where is your joy?”
“It’s from the Lord.”
This is a video presentation put together by Churches Helping Churches. May it inspire you, as it did me, to “Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body” (Heb. 13:3).
My Baby in His Hands
Fear is one of my besetting sins. It affects many areas of my life. Each new season God brings to me can become another temptation to anxiety.
The season of motherhood is no different.
Pregnancy is difficult. And precious. And tenuous. It is, from the very beginning, a letting go. Though my baby is within me, our hearts beating in the same body, I cannot sustain him. I can drink lots of water, take my prenatal vitamins, exercise, go to my doctor’s appointments, and avoid too much caffeine. But I cannot keep his tiny heart beating or breathe life into his body. I cannot control his existence physically.
And I cannot keep him alive psychologically, by telling him I love him and reading to him and playing with his little feet through my skin, by repeating how much I want him and how excited I am to meet him.
He is fragile. From the moment I learned about him, when he was a miniscule 4-week-old, his life seemed to hang in the balance in the face of miscarriage statistics – 15% of recognized pregnancies (source). I heard his heartbeat at 9 weeks, strong and steady. I saw his little head and body on the ultrasound monitor. I struggled through 4 months of debilitating nausea, reminded again and again that it was a good sign for his health.
The weeks continued to pass, along with important milestones – lessened risk of miscarriage, higher viability if born early. But there are no guarantees at any point along the way.
I was reminded of this today when I read Molly Piper’s post Why I Didn’t Blog My Pregnancy: Fear. Her daughter Felicity was stillborn at 39 weeks. A blogger who commented on Molly’s site lost her son at 36 weeks. I’ve read several similar stories recently.
This may seem like a morbid topic for me to be writing about 10 days before my due date. These stories didn’t send me into paroxysms of anxiety. They did, though, remind me of my temptation to fear.
With such an incredible gift as a child comes incredible potential for loss and heartache. I know that already with my husband – I love him so much that sometimes it scares me, thinking of what it would be like to lose him. And it is the same with being a mother. My earthly treasure could be lost. I cannot sustain my son’s life, either now or after he is born or when is all grown up.
I’m brought back to Jesus. His deep, deep love. As the hymn says, “‘Tis a heaven of heavens to me.” That’s what it means to have my treasure in heaven. Jesus’ love will never fail me. And He holds onto me. He keeps me.
And He teaches me to loosen my grip on my earthly treasures. They are gifts, not gods. Mine for now, but easily taken away. They should be already surrendered. Fear should have no place in my heart. It still does. My flesh is weak.
So I lay my hand on my belly again, and it moves consolingly under my touch. I count kicks, dream sweet dreams, and fold tiny clothes. And I am thankful… and sometimes fearful. But I’m learning.
Haiti and Me
11 days till my due date.
I am starting to hit the miserable phase. I can’t sleep anymore. Today I’ve been tired, nauseated, and headachy. I haven’t been productive at all – other than redesigning my blog!
But it’s all worth it. I can’t wait to hold my little Christian.
In much-more-important news, it’s been over a week since the devastating earthquake in Haiti. I’ve felt very connected to this tragedy through several avenues.
Three families from the church I grew up in were in the process of adopting orphans from Haiti. They were expecting to have to wait for years. Now the adoptions are being expedited, and Lord willing, the little ones will be home within the next week!
Two families from the same church were medical missions hosts to little toddler girls from Haiti. One of the little girls just returned to her home country a few days before the earthquake. They do not have contact, so are unsure of how the girls are doing.
The sister of a friend from college was in Haiti during the earthquake. Her parents lead several missions trips there each year. Thankfully she was not hurt.
One of the directors at Water Missions International used to be an elder in my old church. They have been working overtime to provide clean drinking water to earthquake victims.
My dad and a couple of other people from the church are hoping to travel to Haiti next week to visit the orphanage where the adopted kids are coming from – to assess needs and do medical relief.
When I was in high school, my parents and I sponsored a child from Haiti through Compassion International. We were unable to continue sponsoring her, and since then I been able to sponsor girls from Honduras and Ethiopia. But I haven’t forgotten Youseline, and I hope she and her family are safe.
The singles’ group from the church I’m in now took a missions trip to Haiti this summer. They did lots of fundraising, and we were able to see their pictures and hear their stories when they returned.
It’s amazing to me how many connections there are through the body of Christ to this suffering nation. My husband has reminded me how important it is to pray for them.
In very late pregnancy, it seems as though there’s almost a “license to complain.” It is a very difficult time physically and emotionally. But I am truly spoiled – blessed with a healthy-so-far little one, a husband who works hard to provide for me, freedom from having to work this last month, and most of all, “every spiritual blessing” (Eph. 1:3).
I have the simplest blessings. Clean water to drink, food to eat. A place to sleep at night. Not having to worry about my unborn child getting enough nourishment. Not lying awake wondering if the roof will come tumbling down on me during an aftershock.
Most of all, I have forgiveness for my sins. I am very performance-oriented naturally, and on a day like today where I haven’t checked things off my to-do list and I’ve gotten very little accomplished, I feel as if I’m somehow less of a child of God. But I know that’s not true. Jesus paid the debt for my sins, and I am adopted and called to obedience as a gift of grace.
I feel like this was a formulaic post, but it’s what’s on my mind right now. I’m off to salvage what remains of the day. Pray for Haiti!
Photo credit: United Nations Photo
Edited to add: My husband sent me this video of a young man trapped underneath a building in Haiti.
A few baby tidbits
My blogging is all about baby for the next little while. I’ve accepted it!
I go to the doctor every Wednesday now. Last week I had made no progress, and the doctor said it would probably be awhile.
They induce at 41 weeks if you haven’t given birth naturally by then. I’m 38 weeks today, so at least I know I won’t be pregnant for more than 3 weeks!
I was nesting again last week. I had my baby shower, and it was such a blessing! Our small group gave us a crib! We were not expecting that and were so thankful. A.J. set it up yesterday.
Now I’m just tired. Really, really tired. I don’t sleep well, and I don’t feel like doing anything. I need to clean my house up and do laundry. I’ve been reading up on labor and delivery again today, but I’m getting antsy to be productive and get things done. I don’t like the feeling of wasting time.
So that’s it for now.
Full Term.
Pregnancy = a little interloper in your body. An interloper who keeps growing and taking over. During the first trimester, he left me constantly nauseated and exhausted. Now, nearing the end of the third trimester, he’s made almost as much room for himself as possible, rendering me unable to sit, sleep, walk, breathe, or bend over the way I used to. It’s fascinating, the way a tiny little zygote invisibly grows into a recognizable baby. Miraculous, for sure. Wearisome at times. Completely consuming physically.
What’s intriguing me right now, though, is not so much the way our little one has taken over my body. It’s the way pregnancy becomes all-consuming emotionally and mentally as I near the end. It consumed me in the beginning, mostly because its physical symptoms were so unpleasant and demanding I couldn’t think about anything else. Once I felt better, I enjoyed being pregnant, but it didn’t take over my thoughts – I had a tiny baby bump and lots of time until he would be born.
Now, though, it’s impossible to go for more than a few minutes without thinking about it – pregnancy, and him – the baby. Being kicked in the ribs, making the 5,000th trip to the restroom (I wouldn’t normally write about that, but we all know how pregnant women are), watching my stomach morph into strange shapes, feeling numb on one entire side when I wake up in the morning… and the fun things, like washing and folding his clothes, watching my husband paint his room, and hearing his heartbeat at my doctor’s appointments.
I can’t stop thinking about it all. And everyone who sees me can’t stop talking about it (except my husband, the only one who’s around me often enough to be somewhat used to it). You’d think the constant pregnancy talk would bore or annoy me eventually. (I’m always afraid of doing that to other pregnant women.) But it doesn’t, because pregnancy is almost all I can think about right now too. I have to remind myself to take an interest in other people’s lives and ask about them, too – not just answer the questions, “How are you feeling?” and, ”When is your due date again?”
I guess it’s an introduction to parenthood, particularly motherhood. Put two mothers together and they can go on for hours about details and particularities that would bore anyone else. It’s the same with pregnant women (or a pregnant woman and any woman who’s ever been pregnant) - put us together and there’s a bond of sorts; here’s someone who understands!
I’m pondering this because I’m 37 weeks today, and when I clicked the “Add New Post” button, all I could think to write about was a follow-up to my last entry about being 36 weeks along. It’s hard to focus on anything else! So I’ll indulge the urge to share my excitement… I’m finally officially full term. If the baby was born now, he wouldn’t be consider premature. His lungs are fully developed and ready for life outside the womb. I start going to the doctor every week now.
(I could actually have written every one of those last four sentences as an exclamation, but I’m sparing you.)
Sometimes I almost panic. Like when I was riding in the car with my husband yesterday, on the way to our friends’ house, and we passed the road we’ll have to take to get to the hospital on D-day. Why did we want to have a baby right away? What do we know about parenting? What will it be like to not just be us any longer, to have our little one in his carseat behind us? I am not emotionally or spiritually mature enough to be a mother! I’m going to be tired all of the time, my house will be a wreck, and I will look like a stereotypical stay-at-home mom. I’ll only lose 10 pounds of baby weight… and the list goes on…
Other times, I am so excited. I hold my friends’ newborns and look at their chubby little cheeks and feel them wiggling in my arms, and smell their delicious baby smell, and I can’t wait to hold my baby. I can’t believe I get to be his mother. I’ve loved so many babies in my life, but I’ve never gotten to be the mother before. I can’t wait for that; I can’t wait to see A.J. hold him and be a daddy; I can’t wait to see his first smile and take care of him.
I’ve been neglecting personal devotions lately. I’ll read the Word, and journal, but not focus my time and thoughts as I should. And now I need it more than ever. I’ve been meaning to set aside specific time in my communion with the Lord to pray about this big change that’s coming, as it seems so all-consuming and overwhelming. I need that! I’m completely helpless to do this on my own.
So time to do the next thing - switch the laundry, put meat in the Crock Pot, vacuum, and open the Word as the day wanes.
36 Weeks (or, what’s a crenshaw melon?)
Today marks the 36-week milestone (when you’re pregnant, each new week is a reason to celebrate!). One week from today, baby Christian will officially be full-term. I’m so excited for him to reach that point. I could only give birth to a preemie for one more week!
Baby Center tries to relate your baby’s size to you by comparing it to a food, usually a fruit or veggie. This made sense in the beginning – oh, the baby’s the size of a poppyseed. And it makes sense when it’s one you recognize, like a lime (12 weeks), an apple (15 weeks), a bell pepper (18 weeks), or a pineapple (33 weeks). But it’s kind of silly sometimes, like, “Oh, my baby’s a rutabaga this week” (25 weeks), or a Chinese cabbage (28 weeks), or this week, a crenshaw melon. Who knows what a crenshaw melon is like? I’ll just take the stat that he’s almost 6 pounds now.
I’m now in a weird in-between stage. My last day of work was Thursday. I was not sorry to retire from my daycare career, although it’s been easy the past few months because I’ve just been doing lunch breaks. I couldn’t work anymore because I was about to reach my one-year deadline, and I would have legally had to take classes and training to continue working there. That wasn’t worth the time or money when I would only be working for a few more weeks.
So now I am a full-time stay-at-home… mom? Well, yes, but my baby’s pretty easy to take care of at the moment. It’s gotten lonely and depressing sometimes over the past few months being home alone so much, but right now I don’t feel that way. I have the gift of a few free weeks before this huge change takes place, and I have a big list of things to accomplish. So far (as of this morning), I’m enjoying the challenge of getting things done before he gets here, and I’m also enjoying a chance to rest. Pregnancy symptoms are much easier to handle this way. I feel very blessed.
I also want to mentally prepare myself for a long wait before he gets here. It’s so easy in these last few weeks to get eager, but the truth is, he probably won’t arrive for at least four more weeks, especially because he’s my first. I don’t want to expect him sooner than that.
I’m about to make my packing list for the hospital. I’m not really going to pack much ahead of time, because most of it will be things I use now – i.e. my toothbrush – but I want to have a list so I don’t have to worry about forgetting anything when it’s actually time. Any recommendations on what to bring?
Happy first Monday of 2010!
A new year in a short life
Happy New Year! It’s 2010!
Raindrops are slipping down the windows, our neighborhood (and my husband) are still sleeping, and I am sipping a cup of Wal-Mart cappuccino. The first morning of the new year has been peaceful so far. Next year at this time, Lord willing, I’ll have an 11-month-old. I doubt he’ll allow us the luxury of sleeping in and typing blog posts first thing in the morning.
I always enjoy the fresh start of the new year. It seems like a gift, like 2010 was wrapped up in pretty paper tied with a Tiffany’s-blue bow. That can be deceptive, though. Really, I am only given today. I was reminded again of the brevity of life through an article posted on the True Woman blog the other day.
It is easy to become so focused on day-to-day activities that we begin to live as though we’re earth-bound rather than temporary residents…
Once I leave this earthly realm, I’ll no longer have opportunity to accomplish what can only be done here. Only here will I be able to share the gospel with lost souls. Only on this side of eternity will I worship God while in the midst of battle. This life is my only opportunity to win victories over my flesh. Only in this fallen world can I prove that His value is of greater worth to me than my sin. When challenged to deny self in the face of temptation, only here will I have opportunity to please my heavenly Father with steadfast endurance. Here only do I fight spiritual battles with the hope of one day hearing His “well done!” as I enter heaven.Once I leave this realm, I will no longer have the opportunity to store up heavenly treasure.
I want to live the rest of my life with no regrets, with no wasted moments, living intentionally in a way that purposefully glorifies Him and redeems the time He has allotted for me.
Earlier this year, a wife and mother named Rachel Barkey was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and a video of a talk she gave just a few months before her death was posted all over the Christian blogosphere. I’d read quite a few of Rachel’s blog entries, but hadn’t seen the video until a few days ago, when I watched the first part. It was a sobering and encouraging reminder of how short life is. Watch here.
Meditating on this can help me keep my eyes focused on what is truly important – Christ. Entertainment, frustrations, fatigue, and popularity suddenly all pale in comparison to what really matters. It’s so easy to forget, but Lord, help me remember.
