Nine Weeks

Tomorrow begins the 31st week of this pregnancy.  I can hardly believe there are only nine weeks (give or take a few) to go.  I have to admit that February still feels like a long ways away, but in the context of being more than 3/4 of the way through I really start to see how close we are getting.

I have been extremely fortunate this time around to have a straightforward pregnancy.  My morning sickness the first trimester was only ever as bad as a hangover, without the preceding fun night of memories.  I never even puked.  Although future first time pregnant women be warned, the gag reflex really picks up during pregnancy.  The fatigue was brutal, but at least I was able to get the rest I needed.  Next time around it probably won't be as easy to do that.  I haven't had any crazy cravings, although I find it funny that in the dead of winter the most consistent craving has been for popsicles.  The mood swings haven't been nearly as wild as I had anticipated, and our marriage has certainly benefited from that.

My major struggle during the second trimester was one that I hadn't anticipated because overall I felt really great.  Second trimester was when I really started to show, and I struggled a lot more with body image than I realized I would.  The bump has grown on me, pun intended, but it took a while to accept it.  Surprisingly, it wasn't really the way it looked when I saw myself in the mirror, it was more the way I felt.  It started with the weight gain.  I knew I'd gain weight, but it was hard coming to the realization that baby was in control and I no longer was.  Then my clothes started to be less comfortable.  I noticed that t-shirts that fit the week before, were no longer appropriate the following week.  Being someone who still wears jeans from high school, this was a new experience for me.  I realized that waking up in the morning and not knowing for sure if the clothes I picked out were going to fit was terribly unsettling.  While I am very grateful to not have to deal with the end stages of pregnancy and sweltering summer heat, it isn't all that exciting to dress in the necessary winter layers on days when I feel whale like.  

About the time I began to accept my changing body, the comments began.  My growing belly became the topic of conversation, and everywhere I turned I was reminded of it.  Coming from the relative secrecy of the first trimester, where people would only know I was pregnant if I told them, it was strange to have such a personal experience become front and center.  The emerging bump somehow makes complete strangers feel entitled to touch your stomach and ask questions about your life that in any other circumstance wouldn't necessarily be acceptable.  To have my changing body be a conversation starter in and of itself, was a very odd experience for an introvert like me.

Now that I have come to accept the inevitable physical changes of pregnancy, I am starting to feel the effects of these changes on my body.  I laid down last night and asked Nick if it was normal to feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest.  I am finding that I need to stop more and more frequently to catch my breath as this little one encroaches on my diaphragm.  Putting on socks and tying my shoes requires a game plan and strategy.  My previously brisk walking pace, is slowly turning into a definite waddle.  My empathy for my mom and grandpa grows everyday as I occasionally get restless legs now...thanks baby.  Waking up with cramping calves has become a new form of an alarm clock, but at least it leaves me with the sore feeling of a good leg workout.  It was also a little startling to come home after a seemingly harmless walk through the snow at the park and find myself forced to stay on the couch for the day guzzling water and trying to beat back regular 2-4 minute apart braxton hicks contractions.

I don't usually like to insert disclaimers in my writing, but feel a need to do so right now.  Hopefully, this post doesn't come across as complaining.  I have been extremely thankful for the relative ease of this pregnancy.  I write these things more out of need to process the experience, than to complain about it.  I really have found pregnancy to be incredibly miraculous and am so excited about the baby we will welcome into our family in February.  The love and support I have had from my family and friends throughout the past eight months has been extremely amazing and I am so thankful that.  I am a firm believer that it takes a village to raise a child, and our child is going to benefit greatly from our community of loved ones.

As we get closer to our due date, I am finally starting to kick into gear on the nursery.  I started clearing out the office, and finally feel like I have a vision for the room.  We were blessed with the gift of a crib from Nick's mom and crib sheets from his sister for Christmas and now that it is put together I want it to have a home.  However, I would definitely venture to say that not knowing the gender of our child has limited the compulsion to shop for it.  I find myself focusing more on the things that we'll need to care for our little one in those first few months, than on all the extras that businesses like to market to new parents.

As a side note, I would like to insert that throughout this pregnancy I have found myself feeling quite strongly that we are having a boy.  However, over the past few days I have been feeling more girl vibes and am now left a little confused.  Contrary to the conspiracy theory that we do know the gender and are simply choosing not to share it, we are left waiting as anxiously as everyone else.  I chuckled to myself a few weeks ago when one of my co-workers told me that a mom always knows what they're having.  I guess I am thankful that I'll have many years to prove my worth as a mom, and will hopefully not be judged based on a 50/50 chance.  I for one was blessed with a fabulous mother who has proved her worth over and over again, and yet she was so convinced that I was a boy that she called me a "he" for the first few weeks of my life.  I guess we'll see if history repeats itself...

It is still a little surreal to think that in a few short months our baby will take up permanent residence in our home.  I get super excited when I think of the ways in which we anticipate this child to change our lives, but even more excited when I realize that we will be changed in ways we do not yet know.  It is definitely unnerving to think about, as child rearing is no easy task and comes with many unforeseen challenges.  However, Nick and I pride ourselves in our communication and have felt reassured to find that when we discuss some of the challenges we anticipate as parents, we are often on the same page.  More important than our parenting values, has been our repeated commitment to support one another in our parenting decisions.  It is nice to know that while we both realize we will disagree on things, we recognize that it is most important to be a united front.

As I have come to more fully accept the physical and emotional challenges of pregnancy, I am finding myself now eagerly anticipating and waiting for the birth of our child.  I find myself focusing less on the here and now of pregnancy and instead focusing on the inevitable result of it.  We had a delightful visit last weekend with Nick's cousins and their four month old son.  I laughed as his cousin, a little mortified that her son had spit up on me, apologized for the mess.  To me, it was just a taste of what is to come.  I know I'll have times in the next several months where I will panic and ask myself what in the world am I going to do with this tiny being.  I might even ask myself how it was that I ever thought I'd be prepared to be a parent.  However, I wasn't weirded out by the mess, or annoyed by his tears.  Instead I found myself saying, bring it on.  I am ready for this...or at least I will be in nine weeks.

    

Click

There is an Adam Sandler movie that is ringing a little too close to home today.  The movie is called "Click."  Adam Sandler plays a man who receives a special remote control that can fast forward his life.  Naturally, he spends a lot of time fast forwarding the bad parts hoping that he can just jump to the fun stuff.  He thinks that if he can just quickly get through the current hurdle and the hard work that he can enjoy the benefits and fabulous life he's expecting.  I won't risk spoiling the movie, but I suppose it doesn't take too much intuition to figure out what kind of lesson he learns at the end of the movie.

I am having one of those "wishing I could fast forward" days.  I am impatient and I just want answers.  I want to know what my baby looks and acts like and what it feels like to be a parent.  I want to know if I'll be able to handle sleep deprivation and balancing another member of the family.  I want to know where my husband is going to get into residency, so I can start anticipating the next house project or the move.  I want to get through my next three days of work and enjoy a few days off again.  I want to know for a fact that all the many unknown pieces of our life puzzle will fall into place and everything will be fine.  My list goes on and on.  As a result I am moping.  I am not getting a thing done.  I am stuck in an impatient rut of wanting to move forward, but not able to because I won't be able to move time fast enough for myself to be satisfied today.

The irony of this funk is striking as we are now two weeks into the Advent season.  Being born and raised Lutheran, the fact that Advent is the season of waiting is no secret to me.  This is the time of preparation and patience as we anticipate Christmas.  Consumerism certainly helps remind us with the preparation part of the holiday.  We are constantly bombarded with commercials reminding us of our secular Christmas to do lists.  

However, the waiting part is completely escaping me.  At least it is escaping me today.  Because today I don't want to wait anymore; I want to know for a fact that all will be well.  I don't want to be patient.  I don't want to find it all out in due time.  I want to know it RIGHT NOW.

I guess it is a good think I don't have one of those magic remotes because I am pretty sure I'd go against my better judgment and use it today.  I'd fast forward through today and find myself at work tomorrow.  It still wouldn't give me the reassurance I am looking for today and I'd fast forward through work.  Pretty soon, I'd find myself several years down the road unsure of the path I've taken.  I would feel unsettled because I'd have missed out on the process and would be curious to know how my current state is going to work itself out.  Soon the experience would be lost and I'd simply be an audience member of my own life.

There is after all a reason that I only have to tackle so many tasks a day.  To complete a lifetime everyday would be very exhausting and probably not nearly as enjoyable.  I suppose I could get moving, and stop sulking.  I could accept that today may not solve all the unknowns I have right now.  Instead I can take comfort in knowing that time will keep marching on and most likely, contrary to today, I'll be back to wishing it would all slow down.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Today I tackled the basement boxes.  It has been on my list of things to do for a while, but I've been avoiding it.  They were mostly boxes that get moved from place to place, but never unpacked.  They hold memories and snapshots of various times in my life.  And while their contents have no value, they are priceless in defining the journey I've made to become me.  These are boxes that for months now I've been telling myself I need to sort because I just don't want to have to move them again next summer should we find ourselves matching to an out of state residency program.

Generally, I do a good job of not hoarding too much stuff.  However, I am a sentimental gal and over the years I've kept my fair share of memorabilia.  For example, today I finally recycled four years worth of college papers that I'd written and saved.  I also ceremoniously rid myself of that dreadful final letter from my drawing professor freshman year who told me "your attitude, attendance and work ethic are second to none but your skill is lacking and that certainly has factored into your grade."  I came across a few sentimental letters I'd received from great friends over the years and some odd trinkets I'd never quite known what to do with but felt attached to and couldn't get myself to toss.

It was one of those mixed up days where I wasn't quite sure how to feel.  On one hand, I only look at this stuff every few years at most.  On the other hand, many items in those boxes represent me and who I am today.  Some items encouraged me at important times in my life.  Other items were the byproduct of the hard work and knowledge I'd gained throughout my courses in school.  Some, like the letter from my all too honest art professor, represent the challenges I've had.  It was simultaneously cathartic and painful to sort through those boxes today, and tonight I am admittedly a little wiped out.  However, I am thankful to have another thing crossed off my to do list.

In honor of the sorting I thought I'd share with you a piece I wrote in my ninth grade health class (yes, the contents of the boxes went back more than ten years).  The assignment we had was to create something that represented us.  As my college art professor solidified for me many years later, art wasn't my thing and I chose to write something instead.  I modeled my piece after a poem I had identified with that had been written by another missionary kid.  It was interesting to read through this again and think about who I was then, who I am now and who I am still becoming.  Without further ado here it is...

What most don't know...
What most don't know as they go walking by is that on the outside I look like everyone else, but inside there is so much more.  I have my own ideas and feelings.  I have highs and lows.  I have likes and dislikes.  I have good days and bad days.  I have my own fears and dreams.  I have my own goals to make and my own obstacles to overcome.  I have a past behind me and a future ahead of me.

What most don't know is that I'm 15 years old, and I hate to drive.  I went to a French school in kindergarten.  I love gymnastics.  I used to help my friends take care of their ring tailed lemurs.  I hate snow, cold weather and seeing my breath.  I love the sun, warm weather and Christmas on the beach.

What most don't know is that my favorite baby-sitter and I used to play the game SORRY in two different languages without understanding each other in either language.  Most of my friends come from different places around the world.  I am fluent in Norwegian.  I had to teach myself to read in English.  I am the oldest sister of two younger brothers.

What most don't know is that my favorite game when I was little was school, but I am the one who dreads going back to school the most.  I don't want to give up being a little kid, but I can't wait to grow up.  I am never wrong.  I could crawl out of my crib, stroller and car seat by the age of one.  I love to tease and hate being teased.

What most don't know is that I love tomatoes.  I can not sleep on airplanes or in the car.  The first language I learned to read and write in was French.  I was the little kid who thought they served rice at McDonald's.  I grew up in a country that had one brand of cereal.  I went to a Norwegian School in fourth and fifth grade.

What most don't know is that when I was two I had to travel halfway around the world to see my grandparents for the very first time.  I always want to be somewhere I'm not.  The friends who understand me best I use a paper and pen or e-mail to talk to.  I have no idea what to be when I grow up.  I am a diver on the High School Swim Team.  I love to sing.  My favorite songs are still from Sunday school.

What most don't know as they go walking by is that I might look like everyone else, but I am not.  No, I am myself.  I can't be anyone else, and no one can be me.    

Today's Numbers

I see a lot of numbers when working in the ICU.  My patients depend on me to interpret those numbers and respond to them appropriately.  Therefore, it is probably fitting that today after going to another prenatal check-up, I am thankful for three numbers.  These numbers are 27, 139 and 155.

The first number is 27.  This is how far along I am.  It's crazy to think that the third trimester has arrived and there are only 13 weeks left.  With Thanksgiving and Christmas coming up, I think the rest of this pregnancy may end up flying by pretty fast!  I also measured out perfectly, which is always a relief to know that baby is right on target for growth.

My second number is 139.  This was the my blood sugar after my glucose challenge test; which is a test for gestational diabetes.  It is that test that pregnant women complain about because they have to drink a sugary cocktail.  I had gotten some good advice before the test to choose the lemon-lime flavor.  It tasted like sweetened flat sprite.  I had low expectations going in, so I was pleasantly surprised when it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  My numbers had to be under 140, so I barely made it.  However, I passed and that's all that matters.  If I had been above 140, then I would have had to have a three hour test to actually confirm the results.  I am glad I don't have to do that.  I am also glad I don't have to test my blood sugars everyday.  In high school I almost fainted the day my anatomy class tested our blood types during a lab, so I wasn't so sure I had it in me to do that everyday.  Plus, the spot on my finger that they took a sample from still hurts tonight.  I have a lot more empathy for all the patients we have to stick on a regular basis.

Finally, I am thankful for the number 155.  This was baby's heart rate today.  Now that baby is growing, the movements it makes are even more noticeable which is always comforting to feel.  However, it is a relief whenever I get the opportunity to hear that heartbeat and have added confirmation that all is well.

While my body feels very much like it has been taken over by this baby, I really have had very few complaints throughout this pregnancy.  Fatigue, indigestion and restless legs have been my only major complaints.  Being a slightly anxious person it has at times made me feel as though things are going too well, so tonight I am going to go to bed thankful for a day of many positive confirmations on this baby's health.  I am also going to bed in eager anticipation of the last trimester, knowing now that the end is in sight.  We will soon get to meet our little one, and I can hardly wait!  Uff, I guess it better be a good night's sleep because I've been told those days are numbered!

Puppy Love

At a year and a half our dog, Sadie, isn't so much a puppy anymore.  However, she still looks like she could be and some days we wonder if she didn't just get stuck in puppy-hood somewhere along the way.  For those of you who haven't met her, she is a rescue dog.  We got her through an organization that takes in dogs from high kill shelters in the South, fosters them and then finds homes for them here in the Twin Cities.  She and her litter were found without parents, so we really aren't sure what is in her mix.  She has the colorings of a German Shepherd, but since she's stunted at 40 pounds there was some small dog mixed in there somewhere.

I would venture to say, while she has her meek moments, she is what they call a high-confidence dog.  She is spunky and energetic.  She hates cleaning and house projects.  There is nothing worse than when the vacuum cleaner and broom make their appearance from the basement.  Sadie is intelligent and loves a good training challenge.  Hard work is her middle name.  Walks and runs are much more fulfilling if there are a few sticks along the way that can be cleared out and moved along.  Her best days are spent with plenty of time outside stalking squirrels, and chasing the deer from the yard.  Her personal mission in life is to destroy all those annoying squeakers that are placed in those goofy dog toys and to rid them of their stuffing.  Most of all, she absolutely adores Nick and I.

There probably isn't much more in this world that can raise your confidence quite like the loyalty of a dog.  I am always reminded of how long it takes to walk to the end of the driveway to get the mail and return to the house when Sadie greets me at the door as cheerfully as if I'd been gone for the day.  When I take her outside to play, and she waits with joyful anticipation for her toy to be launched in the air, the look she gives me makes me feel like I am performing the most important work of the day.  Her satisfied sigh as she collapses on the floor after a good walk/run remind me of how satisfying a good workout can be.  She watches me whenever I get dressed, and if I don't end up putting on scrubs for work, her tail wags so fast it looks like she is going to take off the ground.  Finally, when she is called into the house from outside the determined look she has as she runs towards me just makes me smile.

Her cuddliest times of the day are in the morning right after she's woken up and after a good long run.  During these times she wants to sit on the floor next to me.  When I grab the blanket and sit down, she sidles up next to me and slides down to the floor, so there is absolutely no space between us.  She lets out her best happy grunt and settles into a nice nap.

We were warned when we bought our house to not rush into the dog ownership trap, but we couldn't resist.  I think we made it about a two weeks after we moved in before we started looking, and about two weeks more before Sadie was officially in our house to stay.  Sure, we each have days where the responsibility of a dog feels a little burdensome, but she has worked her way so deeply into our "family" that we really would be quite lost without her.

Sadie reminds me everyday of the simple pleasures of life.  She never complains about her meals, even if she gets the same thing everyday.  To her food is nourishment and nourishment is life.  Her excitement over a car ride, even when it may end up being a trip to the vet or groomers, reminds me that adventures are the spice of life.  You never know when it could lead to an off-leash exploration of new territory.  To her, a toy is a toy.  She doesn't care how expensive it is, as money means nothing to her.  A newfound stick in the yard usually provides better entertainment than the fancy squeaker toy that she destroys within minutes of receiving it.  Materialism is not the name of her game.  She also finds pride in her work.  When she is asked to perform a task and she completes it, you can tell that she finds tremendous satisfaction in that.

Most notably she finds joy in loyalty and being together.  Obviously, for dogs their survival depends on loyalty.  If she doesn't pull her weight, follow commands or take direction from those that care for her she won't survive.  She has to trust that we will make decisions that protect her, and when she does her needs are provided for.  I am no different.  I couldn't survive very effectively without the guidance and wisdom of my support network.  Finally, nothing makes for a happier dog than when both Nick and I are home, at the same time.  When this happens she prances around like she has won the lottery; a wonderful reminder of how special togetherness is.

Around this time of year, I sometimes get overwhelmed with the abundance of parties and gatherings that fill our calendar.  I am an introvert and usually get a little anxious about being over-scheduled.  However, with how busy our lives are it is a wonderful blessing to be able to have a time of year where we can focus on re-connecting with family and loved ones.  I grew up abroad and I didn't get this opportunity every year.  Nick has family all over the globe, and in the past I have too, and time together becomes extremely valuable.  I think Sadie is absolutely right being together strengthens bonds and reaffirms us of the community we are a part of, that is definitely deserving of a good prance.

Snow Days

It has been quite the process to get me to appreciate days like today.  I realize I am a Minnesota girl now, but I haven't always been.  I grew up in a country where we spent our Christmas on the beach, wearing sandals and walking on the reefs.  We always looked forward to it because the pineapples were sweet, the weather was warm and we had friends gathering that were so close we called them family.  We were a long ways from family at the time, so it was special to be able to share the holidays with the next best thing.

Thanksgiving in Madagascar usually meant a day off of school because mom liked to try and honor the holiday.   I remember one Thanksgiving in particular where we went out to eat at a local hotel and even got to go swimming in the outdoor pool.  We shared in our typical thanksgiving tradition of going around the table and telling everyone what we were thankful for.  Most important of all, the meal didn't include turkey, which was a food I didn't particularly enjoy as a youngster.

When we moved back to the United States in fifth grade, we returned home in March.  The snow was gray, the weather bleary and we were faced with the reality we wouldn't be returning "home."  It was a big adjustment and I think I took a lot of my distaste of the situation out on the weather.  I hated winter, because it was cold, but also because it was so far removed from what I was used to.  The onset of winter meant that I was no where close to the comforts of my childhood and where I grew up.  I used to complain bitterly about the snow.  Even in college my friends knew to avoid me during the first snowfall because it usually put me in a bad mood.  I would keep my curtains closed and huff and puff about how stupid it was that anyone would live here.

I used to blame my parents and my ancestors for choosing so foolishly to live in a climate that freezes for more months in the year than it thaws.  I would give myself permission to complain because at the time, I had no choice in the matter.  My family lived here, so I had to live here by default.  It wasn't my choice I would exclaim.

There was also the time I told my mom that we really should have a plan in this state that everyone evacuate during the cold weather.  If hurricanes and floods could force people out of their homes then why couldn't 40 below zero do the same?

I don't know that I would say that I particularly enjoy the full five to seven months of winter that we endure every year.  By January, which is the month I am usually most homesick for Madagascar, I am usually singing another tune.  However, today I woke up and marveled at the snow.  It looked so crisp and clean, I decided that if we have to live with the below freezing temps we might as well have something pretty to look at.  It makes me want to get out there and cross country ski, although this year I am going to have to try my hand at snow shoeing instead.  I now have fun memories associated with this weather and have obviously made a conscious adult decision to live here.

The arrival of winter leads to time spent with family at holiday gatherings.  This is treasured time, as we have family spread out far and wide.  The cooler weather means warm drinks, cozy fire places and snuggling under warm blankets.  Christmas lights provide a much needed glow to the shorter, darker days.  Snow on the ground calls for fun times skiing outside, wrapped in long underwear, mittens and scarves.  Now, the changing of the seasons doesn't so much remind me of what I am missing out on, it indicates what I get to look forward to.

Sleep

I really enjoy working night shifts, but I hate the lack of sleep part of it all.  I never pulled all nighters in college and I didn't enjoy lock-ins in high school because I don't sleep well during the day.  The thought of being in bed while the daylight hours are burning is beyond me.  So here I sit with a lot of hours of work behind me and several more ahead of me trying to understand why my body thinks its okay to only have three and a half hours of sleep.  Its beautiful outside, but judging the fact that last night I had to do jumping jacks in order to finish my charting, I don't think I should be too ambitious about getting much done.

Hence, today I am thankful for sleep.  I am not thankful for it because I've had a lot of rest the past few days.  I am thankful for it because I miss it, value it and can not wait to catch up on a little of it someday soon.  After all, once this baby arrives all hope for sleep will be lost anyways, right?

I have always been a notoriously bad sleeper in any situation aside from laying in my own bed at night.  My parents have many stories of trans-atlantic flights with a sleepless toddler.  In fact, the first trip we made to the United States was when I was two.  Our family here had never met me and anxiously awaited our arrival.  Despite my parents valiant efforts I didn't sleep for the duration of the trip.  However, upon reaching our destination and eager family, I promptly fell asleep and didn't wake until the next day.

I couldn't help but think of the many stories of sleepless nights that my parents still love to tell as I cared for a sleep deprived patient the other night.  There were many statements and pearls of advice that I heard flowing from my mouth that night that sounded strangely similar to the advice my parents would patiently give me as I lay thrashing in beds in hotel rooms during family vacations.

The ICU environment is awful at promoting sleep.  There is absolutely nothing restful about it.  Unfortunately, people are admitted to the ICU because they require close and frequent monitoring.  On our unit we work primarily with the brain.  While some measurements can be taken while patients rest,  much of our clinical information comes from a patient's orientation to their environment and how their body is moving and feeling.  This requires us to frequently wake patients up to do our assessments.  Therefore, optimizing their rest schedules as best as possible is often on the top of our priority list.

Every once in a while though we get those patients who, like me, are convinced they "just can't sleep and there's nothing that can be done about it."  It was this type of patient that I cared for Sunday night.  The kicker was that she was doing nothing to help herself.  I walked into the room at ten at night to find her on the phone, lights on, tv blaring and her sister snoring on the couch.  Knowing that this patient had not gotten adequate rest in several days, I began the process of slowly weaning her off her stimulation.

First, I had to calm her down over her frustrations with dietary.  Then I explained the importance of sleep in such a stressful situation.  Finally, I told her that the tv would not be allowed to be on throughout the night, unless she wanted to watch the station with peaceful nature scenes and classical music.  I turned out the lights and left the room.  I peeked in a few times, to find her resting.  When I returned an hour later for my assessment she awoke and stated that she had had the best night's sleep ever.  I informed her there were many hours left in the night.

She then proceeded to make several phone calls.  I waited, and when there was a break informed her that it was time to turn the phone off for the night.  She stated again, "I can't sleep.  I am not tired and there is nothing in this room for me to do."  Then it happened, my mom's voice shot through me as I said, "Well, you can't fall asleep if you're talking on the phone.  Now I am going to turn out the lights and you need to get some sleep."  At first, I was a little taken back and not quite prepared to sound like my mom just yet.  However, it worked and the patient was snoring before I even left the room.

As I sat down to chart, I stared down at my growing belly, and told my unborn child that there is more where that came from.  I feel quite convinced that there will be pay back for the ease of this pregnancy.  My mom has always insinuated that she hopes that I get a little pay back for the troubles I caused growing up; and given the stubborn, opinionated genes that have been contributed to our child's genetic make up, I feel confidant that parenthood should be a wild ride.  I guess in terms of sleepless nights and the "I can't believe I just said what my parents used to tell me" moments, I am ready.  Now I just need to multiply everything like ten times...or so I hear.  
 

Change of Pace

I am going to admit that I am not necessarily feeling rested and rejuvenated after my one day off.  I will also admit that I am a little exhausted at the thought of heading back to work for three more nights.  Daylights Savings and a Monday morning staff meeting made for two extra hours of work this weekend and that was more than enough for me.  Needless to say, I am a little fatigued.

However, I also have to admit that I had some really great moments at work this past weekend.  The kind of moments where I was reminded of why I am a nurse and how much of a difference nursing care can really make.  In that regard I am ready to head back again tonight.

As I was laying out on my living room floor soaking up some of the last bits of warm sun we'll get in the months ahead, my body aching from all the raking we've done in our yard the past two days, I was thankful for the change in routine yesterday.  During this stretch of my work schedule I work two stretches of three consecutive night shifts with only one day off in the middle.  Sometime, around yesterday afternoon, I start feeling a little sorry for myself because it never really feels like a day off.  I have to sleep for some of it and then I have house work to catch up on before I head into another stretch of nights, and by 10 pm I am so exhausted I have to go to bed again.

However, today I was able to reap the benefits of yesterday's change of pace.  I woke up this morning rested and ready to tackle a few more things before heading into work.  I even have three more blisters on my hands from raking to prove it.  I also woke up knowing that I only have three more night shifts and then I head into a nice weekend off.  There really is nothing quite like working the weekend away to make you appreciate a weekend off.  I guess even a small change in routine really can be helpful in adjusting my attitude and I am thankful for that.

Two Things

Today is going to be short and sweet as I am worn out from work and have to pull myself together for one more night shift!

First, my husband, brother and father-in-law welcomed me with a fabulous surprise when I woke up today- the windows are all in!  There is A LOT of finishing work to do, but the arduous process of removing the old windows and making the new ones fit is complete.  It already looks tons better on the outside of the house and they are such a dream to open and close.  Eeek, I've been so excited and it is such a relief to know that we made use of this beautiful weekend and we don't have to wait until the spring to start this project!  I am so incredibly thankful for how perfectly the timing worked out for this project.

Second, the Vikings finally won and my fantasy team looks like it is headed for a win!  I can't take any credit for either win, but it sure is nice to be associated with winning teams.  I guess it is one of those days where small things can really make my day...

Productivity

I am sitting here laughing at myself this afternoon as I am beginning to realize what this blog will lead me to admit.  About six weeks ago, I switched to a day/night rotation at work and last night marked the beginning of my stretch of nights.  I remarked to Nick about midway through the afternoon that it just doesn't seem fair that when you work nights you have to work while everyone is sleeping.  We had a busy day yesterday, and all I could think about was while everyone would be tucking themselves nicely into bed at the end of the day I would be heading to work.  However, I neglected to recognize that I do eventually need to sleep and that inevitably I would be heading to bed and tucking myself in just as the rest of the world was waking up.  I guess it does eventually work itself out, doesn't it?

This is a weekend where being close to family has come in very handy yet again.  Nick finally has a weekend off and he and his dad wanted to tackle the enormous project of installing new windows at our house.  However, with our house being small there really wasn't going to be a quiet place for me to sleep while they were working.  Here enters my wonderful family again.  I was graciously offered, or perhaps I requested, the use of the futon in my parents quiet and very dark basement.  It worked out well.  I woke up well rested this afternoon and found out that two windows were already installed at our house.

Even more phenomenal, I woke up to find my parents and brother feverishly working away at organizing their garage.  This too is an enormous project, as you can imagine, and they were conquering it with zeal.  And to think all this occurred while I was sleeping soundly in my bed, maybe this whole nights thing isn't so bad after all?!

Celebration of Life and Death

We had our 25 week prenatal appointment this morning and there is absolutely nothing sweeter to hear than the heart beat of our growing baby.  I seriously count down the days until each appointment just for those few seconds of sound bites.  With a heart rate of 140 beats per minute all checked out well.  I measured right on target for abdominal girth and the weight just keeps going up nice and steady.  All seems well and for that I am so extremely grateful!

Upon leaving the doctor's office, having experienced my own little celebration of the new life growing inside me, we rushed off to the funeral service of Nick's uncle.  Never have I been so vividly reminded of this journey of life that we find ourselves trekking in.  While listening to the speakers recount the life of their dear friend and stories of years gone by, I could feel the tiny movements of our little child inside me.

I couldn't help but marvel at the years of stories that are ahead of us.  I thought about the stories I have had thus far and the milestones I've achieved.  I thought about the memories that are yet to be experienced and how this little one is just embarking on that journey.  This whole life thing is a precious gift and quite the wild ride; today was a perfect illustration of that.

He's Back

My husband is back, my husband back!  No he was not on a trip and never actually physically left for any long period of time.  Today he finished up part two in a three or four part series (I am still trying to understand the process) of exams required for earning his medical degree.  Upon returning home tonight he had endured another eight hour, multiple choice marathon exam.  The last one was over a year ago, but none-the-less...yuck and no thank you I couldn't do it.

Don't get me wrong, he does an amazing job of prioritizing time at home and work.  I have always marveled at that.  It would be so much easier for him to completely immerse himself in school and work, but somehow he manages to find a balance between it all.  For that I am extremely grateful.  But obviously when major exams are close at hand, I lose just a little of his attentiveness.  

It is nights like tonight that remind me how intense this medical degree process is that he and his peers are navigating through.  I never really feel like things are as stressful for him as I am sure they are because he works hard to maintain a healthy perspective of work and home life.  However, when big exams like today are over and I get my entire husband back, then I am reminded of how stressful things can be.  Tonight I enjoyed having my whole husband at home.  The one that is 100% attentive to what is going on, who laughs freely and smiles quickly.  I really am madly in love with this man, and couldn't be more proud of all he does.

So, if I haven't said it enough; tonight I am thankful for the triumphant return of my wonderful husband!  :o)

Clean House

When we were first married, Nick and I lived in married student housing at the U.  The accommodations were really very nice and we were so thankful for the opportunity to live there.  However, I wanted a dog and so the house hunt began.

When we moved into this house, we were both so excited.  There was so much potential and it was so freeing to be able to morph this four sided structure into our very own home.  And a home it certainly has become.  Nick often comments on how awesome it is to come back at the end of the day and be able to relax and melt into our own sanctuary that we've created.  I couldn't agree more.

Our kitchen has come so far and I absolutely love to cook in it.  It is nearly complete now with the backsplash up.  We have a new window to install and then some lighting changes and all will be finished.  Here are a few pics of the most recent additions.

I especially love the evenings immediately following a solid house cleaning.  For some reason dinner tastes better and the evening seems quieter when everything has been picked up and put away.  Today, once the vacuuming, dusting and sweeping was over I sat down and really enjoyed my house.  The candles were lit and I just snuggled under a warm blanket on the couch and took it all in.  The only thing missing was a great glass of wine, unfortunately baby is still underage.  Regardless, I am one lucky gal and so thankful to be a homeowner.

A Voice

Today I was thankful for the opportunity to vote and the reminder that apathy accomplishes nothing.

A few years back I spent a month in South Africa with a group of students and two professors from Luther College.  It was a challenging trip.  I had never participated in a study abroad course before and the topic, Truth and Reconciliation in a Post-Apartheid South Africa, was very intense.  We had an ambitious itinerary, and experienced many parts of that beautiful country in ways that no tourist group would ever be allowed.

Sight seeing was not our priority.  We spent most of our time in conversation with South Africans.  We did not go on safari, and my pictures consist mainly of townships and Apartheid memorials.  Most of our days we listened as Black, White and Colored South Africans recounted their experiences during apartheid, throughout the Truth and Reconciliation Committee hearings and beyond.  My real memories are not in my photographs, they are in the journal I kept and mostly in the quotes of the many courageous and amazing people that we had the opportunity to meet.

The beauty and challenge of travel is that it provides us with an opportunity to remove ourselves from our comfort zone and gives us a chance to view our respective communities as an outsider.  This trip was no different.  There were many times when our conversations turned from South Africa to the United States.  We were often challenged by the South Africans we met to participate more fully in our democracy.  Americans are viewed widely as apathetic toward our government and the people we met were not shy in reminding us of how fortunate we are to have a democratic system that operates under relative peace.  This experience marked a turning point in my recognition of myself as a community member and not just as an individual.

It was with those memories that I voted today.  In recent months I have become increasingly frustrated with political campaigns and agendas.  I often feel that our system is not always looking out for the best interest of the community.  As a country it seems we are often impatient and short sighted when it comes to the real issues at hand.  We have divided ourselves on party lines and can't seem to work beyond them.  I have felt the apathy that I swore to leave behind in South Africa return, and I couldn't let that happen.  I didn't want to let down the people I met during the course of my travels.  I wanted to make sure my voice, as small as it may be, was heard today because too many people have fought hard and endured terrible things for their right to vote and for mine.

Thankfulness Project

I have always been a little baffled by our American tradition of Thanksgiving.  I never really understood the food or the celebration of white Europeans bringing over disease and displacing hundreds of indigenous people from their homelands.  A part of me has always doubted that the first thanksgiving was really as harmonious as our textbooks lead us to believe. 

However, as I've gotten older and my taste buds have matured, I now look forward to the opportunity we have to spend a day with loved ones recognizing the wonderful things we have in our lives.  The past few years I have found myself wishing that I could carry some of that spirit of Thanksgiving with me throughout the whole year.  How much different would my life be if I spent more time focusing on the good things in my life rather than the bad?  

Last year I was impressed to see a trend start up on Facebook where people dedicated the month of November to thankful status updates.  I loved reading as people chose one thing a day to be thankful for, it was a welcome change from the typical "...is it Friday yet?" updates.  It certainly spurred on my own thoughts of thankfulness last year, and when thanksgiving came around I was truly prepared for a celebration.  Therefore, I've decided this idea might make for an interesting blogging project this month.  I am going to dedicate this month of blogging to things I am thankful for.  I am going to try to make them specific to the day, but others may end up being a little more general.  I have a lofty goal of attempting to write everyday, but I'll take it one day at a time and see how it goes.

And so begins day number one.

Last night I was on the receiving end of an awesome hug.  It was one of those all encompassing, the world is good and things are all right hugs.  I had gone over to my parents house for dinner.  It had been a goofy day at work and my day had disappeared.  Nick was at home, immersed in his studying and the Vikings had lost. I didn't feel like cooking and my parents graciously invited me in.  We had an awesome night catching up, talking about life and politics and the baby.  It was exactly what I needed.

At the end of the night, my dad wrapped me up in his arms and gave me a total bear hug.  I left feeling like a million bucks because the whole night had felt like a monstrous hug.

I believe that I have the absolute best parents in the world.  I couldn't be more thankful for the wisdom they have imparted on me over the years and continue to provide.  I am constantly reminded of the sacrifices they have made over the years to ensure that my brothers and I have the best experiences possible out of life.  They are a tremendous support and incredibly encouraging of whatever endeavors I embark upon.  The older I get the more I realize that I have a lot to live up to as I head out on my own parenting adventures, but I am extremely thankful to have them available for guidance.  Not everyone is as blessed as I am and I recognize that.  Therefore, as I start out on my month long blogging adventure of thankfulness, I feel it is fitting to pay tribute to the two people that started it all for me...thank you Mom and Dad.  You are the best! 

The Now

I am finding it hard to fabricate my to do list today.  I know there are a ton of things to do...I've been thinking about them all week.  However, after being extremely task oriented at work the past few days I am finding it hard to get motivated when I don't have to worry about someone's ABC's (airway, breathing and circulation).  

I am also procrastinating.  The backyard needs raking and unfortunately a temperature of 34 degrees fahrenheit is no motivation for me to get outside.  I realize that in March I will be extremely grateful for this type of weather, but right now...no thank you.  I even cheated this morning and turned up the thermostat.  Don't tell Nick.  The dog on the other hand refuses to come inside.  She absolutely loves this weather.  If only there was a way to attach a rake to her as she forages the yard, then I'd have it made.

Alas, here I am, sitting in front of my computer ready to blog.    

I don't think there is any other profession that can remind a person so consistently about the fragility and unknowns of life than that of the healthcare profession.  In the ICU where I am employed we work primarily with individuals who have suffered from various types of strokes and brain aneurysm ruptures.  These events occur with very little warning and can create significant life changes for all those involved.  I used to think, mistakenly, that these events were reserved for the elderly.  Unfortunately, I have seen some very young people affected.  In fact, the majority of our patient population is in their mid-40s to 60s.

I often struggle with the stark reality of how quickly a caretaker becomes the cared for.  In fact, this week I was assigned to a man who had suffered a stroke that resulted in massive brain swelling.  In order to control the swelling, he underwent emergency surgery and was placed in a medically induced coma.  His prognosis is unknown until the swelling retreats and we are able to see what the underlying damage is.  Yesterday, I listened to his wife as she described to me her battle with MS.  She had always known that someday she would need to be cared for, but never imagined that her husband would find himself in a position that would threaten his ability to do so.

There are obviously many complexities to this job, but one of the hardest is the lack of predictability.  Sometimes patients arrive in the worst shape possible, and they end up eventually returning to their previous lives.  Others come in, face numerous complications and are never able to reach a full recovery.  I often find myself reminding patients and family members that we need to work with the challenges we have right now and then our next steps will depend on their response to the current crisis.

I think one of the greatest lessons I am learning in the ICU is that the only predictable thing about life is that it is unpredictable.  My mom was constantly reminding me as a child to "never say never."  She used to tell me that God finds opportunity in that statement and makes the unthinkable possible.  As a child you grow up thinking and dreaming about what your life will be like when you are older.  It may change from time to time but rarely do you imagine several dreams for yourself simultaneously.  Suddenly, as an adult you begin to realize that life comes with a plethora of options.  You start to see that the journey isn't as concrete as you once thought.

As I have mentioned multiple times in these blogs the year ahead is anything but concrete for Nick and I.    I have a sneaking suspicion that next year I will look back and think about all the things that happened that I never expected to happen.  I am also certain that the addition of another person to our family will only increase the possibilities.

I can, however, take comfort in knowing that a few constants will remain intact.  I take solace in knowing that the love and support of my family has been unwavering for 27 years now, and I don't anticipate that changing.  I know that despite challenges Nick and I have continued to grow as a couple.  We have navigated many changes over the past nine years of our relationship, both individually and together, and eventually end up stronger.  Finally, I know that through the various growth opportunities of life I have always been filled with a sense of calm and peace in knowing that things will work out.  After all, I believe it has been said that faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains.

The Power of a Good Pair of Jeans

I was a woman on a mission.  Desperate times were calling for desperate measures, and I had my eyes set on one thing and one thing only.  The goal was to find a pair of maternity jeans; the challenge was to find a pair of maternity jeans that didn't feel or look like what they were.  


I've gone through a pretty major "growth spurt" in the last few weeks, and this weekend I finally came to the realization that there was no more adapting my old jeans to fit my growing bump.  I had been using all the tricks including the bella band and expanding the waist line using a hair binder.  However, when my zipper popped open for the umpteenth time this week, I just couldn't take it anymore.  There was a ceremonial tossing of the jeans across the room with an exclamation of frustration that Nick would not be able to ignore.  It was official, the jeans had to be retired.


I was all business as we headed out to the store.  There was no stopping me.  I was going to beat the bump, no matter the cost.  Nick came along and was able to provide enough comic relief to ease my wild and desperate aspirations.  I was on a timeline as we had only come into town from a weekend up North late in the afternoon and had plans for the evening with some friends.  Since maternity shops are limited in Roseville, I had few options.  However, after trying on only four pairs there was a clear winner and I left the store feeling like I had renewed hope for the future of this pregnancy.  Actually the process was quite anticlimactic considering the anxious anticipation I'd had over the outing.  


I can honestly, and sheepishly, admit that my lack of adequately fitting pants had indeed affected my mood this weekend.  I had started to dread getting dressed.  Very few of my clothes fit anymore, and I just wasn't used to that feeling.  My body really has changed very little since high school and so dressing for two has been quite the mental shift.     


Don't get me wrong, I love the bump.  I am excited about the baby and full of pride at my growing belly.  I was elated when we had our check up last Thursday and I measured out at 21 cm, right on target for where I should be.  In fact I was pleased as punch to find out that our ultra sound estimated us to be at 21 weeks as well.  I am incredibly thankful and relieved to know that all is on target and progressing as it should.  It is just a very foreign feeling to be gaining weight and curves in such a dramatic way. 


I have always been criticized by my loving family of my tendency toward exaggeration and drama, and I know this post only capitalizes on it.  I am fully aware and willing to admit this and appreciate the gentle reminders of my family to adjust my perspective.  However, I can't convey the relief I had this morning when I only had to try on one outfit.  I didn't dread going through my closet to find a shirt because I knew I wasn't going to have to wear a thousand layers to cover up the unbuttoned and halfway zipped jeans.  


I can't describe how excited I was to put on my jeans today.  I do have to take a deep breath when I pull the elastic band up and over my waist, but all I can do is smile once the shirt goes on and I find that I can sit and bend without popping a zipper or pinching my stomach.  I finally felt today like I had regained control of some of these crazy changes.  And today, instead of resenting the bump, I embraced it.  For that, maternity jeans I salute you and look forward to several more months of continued growth.   

First kick...

In this grand adventure of pregnancy, there are times in which I feel like it is a very one sided process.  Obviously, it takes two to get to this point.  However, for the most part I have sole responsibility of the baby baking process.  I am the one watching what I eat, and giving up some of my favorite treats.  I am the one who has given up the occasional glass of wine or beer that seems so deserved at the end of a long day or during the football game.  I mean, can anyone watch the Vikings these days without a little alcohol on board?!  I am also the one who gets to experiencing the morphing of my body as I lose complete control of it to this baby.

On the flip side, I also get the instantaneous and daily connection to this baby.  With every change, comes another reminder of the process that is taking place.  Ever since I found out I was pregnant I've felt a great responsibility and sense of pride for this little one growing inside me.  I have delighted in the changes in my body knowing they carry with them one of our greatest blessings.  And when I started feeling flutters at 17 weeks, it was only I who could experience them.  Recently, I have been increasingly anxious to begin feeling the kicks outside my body, so that Nick could experience them too.

Aside from hearing the heartbeat at our doctor's visit, very little of this pregnancy process has been experienced by Nick.  Most of what happens is reported to him after the fact.  However, just two nights ago, we were sitting on the couch and Nick reached over to pat my stomach.  Suddenly, his fingers jumped off my abdomen and he cried out excitedly that he had felt our baby kick.  Now, I've been waiting for this to happen as I've become increasingly aware of the baby's movements and kicks, but still hadn't felt it with my hand on my stomach.  It was so exciting to me that Nick was able to experience a "first" for the pregnancy.

There truly is nothing like it.  With each kick, both inside and out, I am falling more in love with this child of ours.  I am also incredibly thankful that Nick was able to palpate the first official outside kick.  It was fun to have him report a pregnancy experience to me, instead of vice versa!  Making sure he feels included in this process is incredibly important to me and the smile on his face was priceless.  Now I can hardly wait to see the way he beams when he first holds our child in February!

Patience is a virtue. Impatience is not.

I am dubbing this week my reset week.  An opportunity to catch my breath, get a little work done and regain perspective.  Last week was exhausting.  I spent a lot of time in a state of constant thought overload.  I felt for every one thought, ten or more new ones would spring up.  I had to-do lists a mile and a half long, and no time to get anything done.  I also allowed myself to get caught up in the worries of next year's uncertainties.

First, I had thought overactivity on house projects and home improvements.  Home owning is a tremendous blessing, with many joys.  One of the joys is putting work into making it better.  Nick and I don't stop dreaming of the next project.  However, sometimes I just want to do everything at once.  Last week, I was convinced that the windows needed an overhaul, the water heater needed to be replaced and the basement needed to be refinished...all at once.

This of course led me into thoughts of the practicality of home improvement projects.  Simply put, we have no idea right now if we will be moving next spring.  One of the many wonders of medical school is its constant reminder that there is little about it we can control.  The last few years have taught me that we are constantly at the mercy of the clinical schedule, and aside from choosing which clinical to do when, there is little control over much else.  Residency will be the same, if not less flexible.  However, with residency we get the added bonus of not really knowing where it will take place until next March.  Sure, Nick gets to rank his top choices and only apply to certain programs, but in the end he'll get a letter telling him what program he'll be attending.  Given that there are only two emergency medicine programs in the immediate area, there is a chance we will move.  For obvious reasons, I vacillate between being okay with that idea and being absolutely terrified of it.  Last week, terrified pretty much summed up my feelings.

On top of that I couldn't shake the thought that I would like to go back to school.  I've wanted to get my masters for several years now, and have the program picked out.  Money and time have prevented me from doing so thus far.  They remain the obstacles, but with Nick finishing up school, I feel like it is becoming more plausible to consider graduate school again.  I feel I've been patient thus far, but last week I was anything but patient.

Finally, I probably shouldn't forget to mention that intertwined amongst all these thoughts was of course the ever growing baby due to make its arrival in February.  Which creates its own list of to-do's, worries and eager anticipation.  Not to mention an additional person to factor into all the changes of the coming year.

Needless to say, last week I was overwhelmed.

I decided that this week I needed to focus on the feasible and try not to worry about the things I can't control.  I have had this week off from work and have been tackling the realistic projects on my to do list.  Nick and I have devised a plan for the home improvements that make sense for our home, whether we are still living here next fall or not.  Thoughts of school are once again on hold, and I am okay with that.  I am also thankful for the gentle patience of my husband.  Last week he had to endure many of my thought storms, most of which tapped into his own worries and stresses.    

Monday I was greeted by rain.  I woke up thinking of Martin Luther, who states that each new day is a baptism, a renewal.  I chose to live it out, and set a new tone for this week.  I feel a sense of peace knowing that working away at my immediate to-do list, will make tomorrow's to-do list a lot easier to accomplish.  I just need to keep in mind that what seems huge and unknown for now, will in time work it's way out.  Deep breaths and patience, are my daily goals.  I think it was my ninth grade diving coach who reminded us of this quote at the beginning of the season, "Remember grasshoppers, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."

Puppy parenting...analogies for the real thing

Today was a great day.  The evidence lies in the sight of our completely exhausted puppy, who is passed out in the middle of the living room.  This afternoon we took Sadie to a nearby state park.  It was an outing we've secretly been promising her for months, but Nick and I never had coinciding weekends off.

The day started out with a dog who felt very sorry for herself.  Perhaps it will be strange for people who have never experienced the many emotions of a pet to imagine, but Sadie moped for the better half of the morning.  She woke up and immediately ran to the front window.  There she stood for several minutes, wagging her tail and then turning to look at Nick.  She was hinting for him to take her out on a walk.  Then she decided she might have more luck getting us to play in the backyard.  When we let her out she just waited for us on the back porch.  The minute we stepped foot outside, she darted off the steps grabbed a stick and brought it back hoping for a rousing game of fetch or tug.

You see, yesterday was a day filled with house projects and yard work.  Sadie didn't get her usual walk, and had to resort to the solace of the drowsy side effects of her allergy medicine.  We didn't feel too guilty because we knew she was in for a grand adventure today.  However, it is impossible to explain this to a dog.  This morning we just watched her and laughed because we knew what the day had in store for her.

When the time finally arrived for our grand adventure to begin she was more than ready to jump into the car.  After a quick jaunt to Northfield, and a comical run-in with a random parade, we finally arrived at Nerstrand State Park.  Sadie was elated and we couldn't get out of the car and on the trail fast enough.

We finally got far enough along the trail that we felt comfortable letting her off leash (technically a no-no in State Parks) and that's when the true colors of our happy pup shone through.  If you haven't met Sadie she is an incredibly energetic and enthusiastic canine.  She loves to sniff, chase, run and generally be outside in the vicinity of her "pack members" (a.k.a. Nick and I).  She is a shepherd mix, and has this awesome gazelle leap that is very characteristic of German Shepherds.  She tore circles around us.  Sniffing out squirrels, finding the streams and puddles, leaping through bushes and over sticks, and then quickly returning to reassure her "pack" that all was well.

Her less than stellar moment came somewhere along the path when she decided to roll in poop.  A surprise we discovered when the leash went back on.  It resulted in an unplanned bath in the river, an attempt to avoid a malodorous drive home.

I know I am not a parent yet and dogs are much different than children, but dog ownership has often given me a glimpse into the adventures of parenting.  Today, I couldn't help but see the analogies between dog ownership and parenting.  This morning, with the dog feeling so sorry for herself, Nick and I chuckled about the times in our upcoming parenting lives when our kids will be convinced that nothing exciting will ever happen to them.  Sadie's impatience in the parking lot was just a snapshot into the warped understanding of time of that of a toddler, and the times to come when we just won't be able to move fast enough.  Even more, I was able to imagine the combination of fear and pride as our children spread their wings and begin their own exploration in the woods of life.  I also laughed at the thought of having to drag our kids out of whatever piles of dirt or poop they find themselves in (both literally and figuratively).  I guess even the best laid plans still leave room for surprises!

Rain Reminders

I really do not plan on blogging too much about current events, politics or even religion, but all I've been able to think about this week has been the Quran burning news story out of Florida.  I have been very troubled by this story.  I find it unbelievable that in a country that prides itself on freedom of speech, thought and religion some people still manage to hole themselves into remarkably small world views.  Often times these ideas limit and restrict the freedom of others around them.

Bias is everywhere.  I am not going to deny that.  We all have our own views and perspectives of right and wrong and our world is a very complicated place because of that.  However, there are ways in which we can live out, express our beliefs and follow our truths that don't actually inhibit, restrict or misconstrue the beliefs of others.  This world does not need to be any more complicated than it already is.

The horrors of September 11th were lasting and devastating.  It was awful to watch as the day unfolded. It was equally hard to learn the acts of a very small group of people could inflict so much pain and devastation in such a short time span.  The consequences of that fateful day are still surfacing.  However, it wasn't carried out because of the teachings of Islam.  It was also not an act that every Muslim in the world condoned.  To make the generalization that all of Islam preaches terrorism is absolutely untrue.  It was in fact similar generalizations of America and Americans that lead to that fateful day in 2001.

Sometimes I wish we had all listened better in grade school when our teachers reminded us of how valuable it was to listen to each other and know the whole story before we chose our actions and words.  I was taught once that we should "treat others as they would want to be treated."  It was an interesting twist that reminded me that people come from their own perspective and place, and to interact effectively I must understand that.

We had the windows open tonight as we sat down for dinner.  It was peaceful to hear the rain fall outside.  As I sat there, with the candles glowing because I am my mother's daughter, I was reminded of a proverb I came across a long time ago.  It's a Malagasy proverb and it says, "Let your love fall like the misty rain, coming softly but flooding the river."  As I sat there immersed in thought, I was comforted by the knowledge that love has no end, no boundaries.  Hatred has limits.  There will always be horrible atrocities carried out throughout this world, but these acts are limiting and only set up new road blocks.  Love does not.  Love opens us up to new opportunities for acceptance and understanding.

I don't have any fantastical ideas of global acceptance.  However, tonight I am comforted in knowing that while some people will never see beyond their own views, many people already do.  And that small realization was enough to remind me that there is hope.  An opportunity where perhaps a few more people will broaden their understanding, and then a few more will follow.  Then, like a flooding river, we can start seeing the similarities in one another and not the differences.

A New Venture

Maybe it is the change in weather and the fact that much of my family is heading back to school.  It could be the fact that for several years I've been eager to head back to school myself, I just haven't been able to figure out how to find the time or money.

Mostly it is stemming from the fact that I am eagerly anticipating major changes in the coming year.  With Nick finishing up course work for medical school in December, the arrival of "itty bitty" in February, and residency decisions happening in March...life as I know it now is going to change drastically and rapidly over the next year.  I am finding that there is much to my life that needs to be processed and so begins my blog.

I don't have any fantastic ideas of where this blog will take me, but I am hopeful that it is something I can maintain for at least a little while.  I would never admit to being an English buff or a grammar whiz, but I have always enjoyed writing.  There is something about sitting down with your thoughts and letting your ideas come together that I've always found addicting and cathartic.

I anticipate that a great deal of my writing will be centered on processing my life experiences, hence the title of the blog.  The title is actually a twist on a song by one of my favorite musicians, Mason Jennings.  Nick and I have often listened to Mason's song titled "Be Here Now" and marveled at the simple power of the song's message.

We have actually deemed it our theme song for our marriage as it reminds us to slow down and take things a day at a time.  The song emphasizes the importance of just being in the moment.  Often I find myself thinking "if I could just get to next week" or "maybe in three years we could..." and then I have to stop and remind myself about the now and enjoy the day to day routine.  It is after all the humdrum of normal everyday living that gets me to next week or three years from now, and those hopes and dreams for the future just wouldn't happen if I didn't live in this moment right now.

As I contemplated a title for this blog I really wanted to have a title that gave me some focus and represented this period of time in my life.  I found that this actually captured it pretty well.  Lately, I've been overwhelmed with a feeling of being on the cusp of change and yet my daily routine hasn't changed significantly.  I've felt as though I want time both to simultaneously speed up and slow down all at once.

This was all spurred on in June when Nick and I found out I was pregnant.  I wouldn't necessarily call it a surprise, but I think it all happened much more quickly than either of us had anticipated.  Since finding out we've had the normal roller coaster of emotions, we're completely elated and then we throw in moments of impatience or fear.  Couple that with the eager and nervous anticipation of welcoming a new  member into our family, and we pretty much swing through all varieties of emotions on any given day.

It is a bit like that summer before your first year of college when you get the name of your first roommate.  There is that period of excitement when it finally starts to feel real that you will be heading off to college.  You know that things are going to be different, but you're not really sure how.  The name of your roommate and those first few phone calls or emails remind you that this change is approaching.  There is excitement as you learn that you have a few things in common, then there are the unknowns of how it will go to live with a stranger and what happens if you don't get a long.  And of course there is that period of waiting, you start pulling together the items you'll need to make college feel like home and you buy a few new school supplies.  You listen as all the people who have been through it before tell you how great it is going to be.  Then they scare you with horror stories of their first roommate.  Somedays you wish your could just be a senior in high school forever and then other days you couldn't be more ready to move onward and upward.  In the meantime, all you can do is wait and imagine what it will be like in August or September when move in day FINALLY arrives.

I feel that way most days now.  I am anticipating and starting to prepare for our little arrival.  I hear stories of how amazing becoming a parent is, and then I hear about the fatigue and the complete takeover that this new family member will have on my life.  I worry about leaving behind the freedom of childlessness, and then simultaneously I can hardly wait to experience the world with our child in it.  In the meantime all I can do is live in the comfortable, quiet little world that Nick and I have created for ourselves over the past two years.  Planning the nursery, picking out names and dreaming of who our child is becoming slowly starts to make everything feel more real, but I still have to wait.

Hence, being here now has really been my theme this summer.  Mason writes it best when he says, "Be here now, no other place to be.  And let good things happen, and let the future come into each moment like the rising sun."  I am relishing in the quiet moments and the great closeness that Nick and I have established in our wonderful first two years of married life, and I am slowly and daily anticipating the next phase of our life.


Here is a link to Mason Jennings' music video for "Be Here Now" on youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wa_4wV2GDfQ&ob=av2e