Food aversions: Still eggs, coffee and broccoli, pineapple and cottage cheese.
Gender: Don’t know yet, but this week I’m feeling girl.
So far I haven’t really blogged about my “bump” or lack there of. I’ve been journaling some in a book my mother bought me, but I’d also like to use this space to do weekly updates, so I can look back and have a sort of digital scrapbook of my journey into motherhood.
So here goes…
What I am looking forward to: Finding out what baby Adams is! Only 3 more weeks!
I’ve been doing weekly picture collages intending to blog, but alas that hasn’t happened, so here are my other collages if you are interested.
Stay tuned for more updates.
Around the beginning of November, I started to feel very overwhelmed with everything. I felt tired all the time, I had absolutely no energy, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on the problem. I blamed it on the stress that comes with finding a new house and the inadequacies I was feeling at work, and daily life in general.
Then around the beginning of December I realized that I was late. My boobs had been sore for over a week and that’s when I began to suspect something was amiss. I waited all week long to see if anything changed, if Aunt Flow would grace me with her presence, then on Friday, December 6, I decided to just bite the bullet and take a test. I figured if anything, I could just rule out the possibility and I wouldn’t have to worry anymore.
I went to Walgreen’s, got a pack of First Response tests, and headed home. Nick and I had been invited to a friend’s house that night to watch movies and eat pizza. I knew there would be adult beverages at this get-together and we felt the responsible thing to do would be to find out beforehand.
When I saw those two little pink lines, my mouth fell open. Then I just started laughing. Not really a full belly laugh, more of an “oh my God is this really happening,” nervous laugh. Nick sank down the wall with his head in his hands. It was like a scene from a movie, except it wasn’t. It was real life.
I quickly pulled myself together, if only for Nick’s sake. I put on my pajamas for our pajama-pizza-movie hang out and we headed out the door. I don’t think either one of us thought about anything else for the rest of the night, or for the next few days. I went through waves of acceptance and then panic, and then back to acceptance. I think Nick just went through panic and sickness. Bless him.
The hardest part was keeping it all a secret. We knew we wanted to wait until we saw a doctor before spilling the beans to everyone, or at least until I was further along, just in case. Everything is so fragile in the first couple of weeks, you really just never know what will happen.
Once I was 8 weeks, we decided to tell our families. We told them all around Christmas and we were overwhelmed with their excitement and support. Everyone cried tears of joy. It was nice to finally relieve some of the pressure, but we still had two weeks to go before we could actually see the doctor and our baby.
Let’s not talk about how long it’s been since I’ve blogged, instead let’s focus on the things that have transpired since I’ve been away.
First things first, Nick and I bought a house!
We began this process early in the Spring. On weekends and during lunch breaks we would look at a few houses. Time after time, we were let down. At the end of October however, we stumbled upon this house. It fit all of our criteria, but it needed a little (lot) work. With encouragement from our families, we decided to make an offer. That was in early November and we were on a time crunch to close before the end of the year. Our initial close date goal was Dec. 19, just before the holidays. We planned to use our time off to paint, fix, and do whatever else the house needed before we moved in. December 19 came and went with no news of when we’d close. Our plans to have our families help us paint and work during the holidays were dashed. On December 26, we finally got the call we’d been waiting for and we were able to sign the papers to our new house. After work that day, we met at the house to look around. As I walked inside I was more overwhelmed then overjoyed. All I could see were the problems and not the potential. Nick’s parents were with us and they were very excited for us, but I couldn’t be happy. To me, it was just an empty house with a lot of problems. It didn’t feel like my home.
When we left the house, Nick and I went out to have a celebratory dinner. I told him how I felt and he promised me that he would make the house a home for me and our baby.
That’s right folks.
Not only do we have a new house, but a baby on the way! Needless to say, the last few months have been nothing short of stressful. As I result, I’ve retreated into myself to do a lot of thinking, worrying, and sleeping.
Things are looking up these days though. Our house is becoming more of a home day by day and we are so excited about our sweet baby.
Big changes are coming in 2014!
My husband randomly sent me this image one day and it got me thinking. I feel that there are a lot of misconceptions floating around about church. This is something that has been on my heart for a while, so I thought I’d take some time and address one misconception that bothers me.
Before I dive right in, I’d like to share my spiritual background. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve known about Jesus Christ. Who He was, what He did, and why His life and death were so important. I was baptized for the first time when I was 7, and I attended church regularly when I was younger. When I was in 6th grade, however, we moved from the city to the county, and for some reason we stopped attending church.
For a long time, this was a source of shame for me. I remember being asked (on several occasions) by my classmates what church I attended. Being the “new kid” was hard enough, and I didn’t want to be the “heathen kid” on top of that, so I did what any kid in my situation would do, I lied. I told them that I went to this country church I knew none of them had ever heard of, and although it wasn’t a total lie (I did attend the church a lot growing up, it was my grandparent’s church) it wasn’t the total truth either. For several years after that I’d go on occasion, holidays and such, but I didn’t have a church home. If I’m being completely honest though, I wasn’t really interested in finding one. It seemed that every church I attended had the same message, “You’re going to hell no matter what you do.” I wasn’t being fed spiritually and I didn’t want to sit around and listen to some old man shouting scriptures at me without telling me how to apply them to my life. I’d leave feeling beat up and had no clue what I’d just learned.
I never turned my back on my faith, but I became disenchanted with the idea of church. I got to the point where I just didn’t care to go at all. That feeling followed me to college. I remember taking a biblical studies course in my freshman year and I learned more in those few months than I ever learned sitting in church. That class made me hunger for something more. I branched out from Christianity and began studying other religions. With every religion I studied, it seemed to all come back to one unifying principle, love. It really made me think about my experience with Christianity. I’d always been told that God is love, but the love aspect of it all had been left out of most of the messages I had heard.
That same year, I met Nick. He had a similar upbringing and had also become disillusioned with church. Faith was important to both of us and we discussed our spirituality with each other and our feelings about it, but we never actively sought God in our relationship or tried to find a church to call home. We let the world guide us for a good while and that led us down the wrong path. About 5 years into our relationship we began discussing marriage. It was important to both of us to start our marriage on the right foot and we knew that getting back in church would be a big part of having a strong marriage.
So that’s what we did. We found a church and tried it out. Luckily, we found a place where we felt like we belonged, a place that we knew we could learn and grow. When we walk through those doors every Sunday, we leave the same imperfect people we were when we arrived, only a little lighter and filled with a little more hope.
You see, the church doesn’t exist for the good or the perfect, it exist for the troubled, the imperfect, the lost, the lonely, the broken, the weak, and the weary. If you think you aren’t good enough for church, you’re wrong. If you think you need to work on yourself before you go to church, you’re wrong.
“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”- Luke 19:10
One of the most amazing things to me about church, and what really makes me feel good is knowing that I’m among people who are just as screwed up as I am. We are all broken and are looking for healing. We are all lost and are looking for guidance.
Being together with other believers is one of the most powerful things you will ever experience in your life. That’s when the Holy Spirit works and that’s when He will work on you. Let Him work on you.
“For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” Matthew 18:20
Stop thinking you’re not good enough for church. It’s a lie and it’s an excuse. The reality is, you’re not perfect and you never will be, and that’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect.
“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”- Romans 3:23
God doesn’t expect perfection. He wants you just as you are because He will use you and all of your flaws and all of your mistakes and make you and your life greater than you ever dreamed. If you don’t believe me, try it out for yourself. What have you got to lose?