12 Days Overdue - Update

Yesterday, I got out of the house for the first time in two days.

We successfully made it to the store and back in our newly acquired winter wonderland and as I was walking into the house (through the garage) I slipped and fell.

The baby is fine. But I was a little worse for wear. I managed to pull something in my groin that made it extremely hard to walk and at one point I could not lay down on my side (which is the only way I can lie down because of the big belly).

I called the midwife and she recommended some amazing homeopathic ointment (let me know if you need to know what it is...I HIGHLY recommend it for sports type injuries). But the heartbreaking news was that we would probably be rescheduling induction because of all the pain and lack of mobility due to this injury. We were hoping to try inducing today.

However, I am feeling ALOT better this morning. I'm hoping we can try to move forward with induction today - but we won't know until later this afternoon.

That's the latest update. I was pretty upset yesterday, but I'm feeling much more hopefully today.

10 Days Overdue

Well, my due date has come and gone...again.

I really thought I would handle it better this time around (IF it should happen). But I'm going a little bit bonkers here. I think I did fine until I hit 41 weeks. But every little thing that complicates my life (snow, a headache, a grumpy 2 year old, a grumpy husband) seems so huge to me right now.

I keep praying for Jesus to help me trust him. Since my first son was born right at 42 weeks (which for those of you counting would put me at Christmas Day this time around), I learned that I could birth a healthy baby naturally and not have any postpardum complications. In fact, I was so energized by NOT being pregnant I remember those first 6 months (before lack of sleeps really started to get to me) as some of the most joyful moments in my life.

Even as I write this my heart is calmed by the faithfulness God has shown me through childbirth.

Most often, I'm just tired of the kind of tired that comes from being pregnant. I have to say no to alot of activities with my 2 year old right now and that is SO hard...probably a sign of the things to come and probably not entirely a bad thing for my 2 year old...but it's still hard.

At this point in my last pregnancy, I was entering the hospital to be induced. The process of induction was 4 days long. This is not the path I want to take this time around. I am unconvinced that all the interventions I had last time did much good. But on Tuesday, if I still haven't had this baby, there will be some options we can try that don't require me to go to the hospital.

Pray for me!

Four Weeks To Go

That's right. As of today, I am four weeks from my due date. This baby boy is comming soon.

I'm not in a huge hurry. Four weeks sounds just fine with me. ( BUT I reserve the right to change my mind as the day gets closer)

My belly is big and I'm pretty emotional right now.

At church a couple of weeks ago, I was asked to acknowledge one of our members who would be moving to a new assisted living facility. As you might imagine he is limited by a wheelchair and sometimes he can be very hard to understand, but he had a few things he wanted to say so I handed him the mic. After he was done sharing, I looked at him and told him he was a great blessing to our church and that we would miss him. While I spoke those words he started crying. So, I started crying and made a bee line back to the podium to keep the service moving forward. My next line was a squeaky and tearful tearful, "Church, it's offering time!" Luckily, the congregation laughed with me and together we acknowledged the awkwardness of my attempt to move on in my emotional state. That gave me a few seconds to fan myself with a tissue and wonder if it was a good idea for me to be in front of the church anymore.

Popcicles in November

Maybe if we lived in the southern parts of the country this would not seem so strange. Maybe if I was a child it wouldn't seem strange.

But I'm a woman in her mid-thirties enjoying a popcicle and a warm jacket with her two year old out on the back patio in November.

No. Not 'Mom'. 'Dad'.

Lately, my son has been calling my husband, "Mom".

My son joyful greats my husband as he walks into the room with, "Hi, Mom!".

And my husband says, "No. Not 'Mom'. 'Dad'." My husband says these words firmly but not in an upset or stern manner.

I'm afraid it makes me smile every time I see this interaction.

What's funny is that my son was doing great with his "Hi, Dad!" and "Hi, Mom!" just a few weeks ago.

I guess that last business trip was just a little too long. :)

UPDATE: It seems that most adults are Mom right now. He has also used "Hi, Mom!" with my sister and one of my good friends as the happiest greeting he knows how to give. I think this makes my husband feel a little better.

A Sweet Moment

Yesterday I took my two year old to my midwife appointment. He was a little cautious in this new enviornment. When the midwife took my blood pressure he was worried it was hurting mommy. And then when the midwife was listening to the baby's heartbeat he was worried again that it was hurting mommy.

He even said "OUCH!" while the midwife was listening to the baby's heartbeat.

I responded by saying, "No, ouch, Baby."

"OUCH!" he said again with a furrowed brow.

"No, Baby. No ouch. Mommy is just fine." I replied again.

By the time the midwife was putting her equipment away my son had lifted up his shirt to show his belly and then asked, "More and more?"

Simple Summer Pleasures

Picking blackberries for my son to eat as we take our morning walk.

Trees hanging heavy with not quite ripe apples and pears.

Watching the grapes on the neighbors fence get a little bit bigger every day.

Playing at the park with friends.

Little boys with farmer tans.

"America's Most Powerful Religious Leader"...REALLY?

Has anyone see the cover of the new Newsweek?

I'm a bit torn about what to think about Rev. Warren these days. I'm not doubting the motives of his heart.

But does he really represent the American Evangelical movement as a whole?

And if that answer to the above question is YES, is that a good thing?

I'm also diappointed in our culture that can only acknowledge a movement based on the places (churches) that draw the most people. Aren't there alot of great things happening in small congregations around the country, as well?

Just a bunch of questions today.

Another Son

Today we had our ultrasound.

And we're having another boy! Is this the generation of boys or what!!??

This is my parent's 5th grandchild...all boys.

To tell you the truth, I couldn't be happier!

Even in the ultrasound, he seems to be a totally different child from the first one. Does that sound silly?

Anyways, I'm happy and grateful for God's amazing provision.

My Suggestions for a "Pick Me Up"

I know this song is a couple years old...but it still gets me going!

Enjoy!

Another Homegoing

Another member of our fellowship passed a few weeks ago and his homegoing was celebrated last Wednesday. Unfortunately, I was very ill and could not make the service. This man has another story of a hard, hard life. His body was beat up from war and drug abuse. And his passing was sudden and unexpected.

Yesterday, I heard some stories from the memorial service that remind me of why I love Jesus and the community He has placed me in.

I heard stories of men of God (my brothers) speaking to the adult children of the man who had passed in ways they had never heard their father spoken about before. They heard heartfelt stories of the servant who entered our fellowship only desiring to serve God and serving so many of us in the process.

The night of the service, in a hotel hot tub, two of this man's children were baptized - joining the family of faith that their father desperately hoped they would become a part of. The other two rededicated their live to Jesus.

Praise be to Him, from whom all good things come.

The Wierdest Hour of the Day

It's almost 5:30pm and I am expecting either my phone to ring or my front door to open. Just minutes ago I could have sworn my almost 2 year old was calling "Daddy! Daddy!" and I spontaneaously broke into a "Daddy Come Home" song.

My mom often tells of when we all waited for my dad to come home on week nights. According to ledgend, the Ramirez girls (all six of us including my mother) would, literally put our heads together and chant, "Daddy, come home. Daddy, come home. Daddy, come home." Usually this ritual would happen somewhere around the 20th time the question, "When's daddy going to be home?" was uttered.

For those of you who stay at home and await the arrival of your spouse, do you have a ritual you do with the kids to help them pass the time?

(Just to keep you up to date: my hubby called while I was composing this post.)

One Reaction to Blues Clues

The first time my husband saw a bit of Blues Clues he turned to me with a concerned look and asked, "Who is that mildly retarded man?"

My Favorite "More"

My son loves the word "more".

In his lexicon it is an overarticulated "moowr". The 'm' is long and so is the 'ow'. It sounds alot like "mower" with very little emphasis on the "-er". He works so hard each and every time to get this incredibly important word out of his mouth.

"More" means lots of things. Sometimes it mean "More yogurt, please." Sometime it means, "Bounce that ball again, Mommy." Sometimes it means, "Can I watch another video?"

But my favorite use of this important word comes out when his daddy gets home. After my husband changes his clothes and settles on the couch my son stands next to the couch and says, "MOOWR".

Usually, my son gets the response, "More what, son?"

And then my son extends his hand to his father and says again, "MOOWR."

"You want me to chase you?" my husband finally responds.

"Uh", my son grunts in affirmation. And the chase is on.

The Gift of a Midwife

In case you hadn't heard, I am pro-midwife.

Since we had lived in Seattle for only about 6 months before I got pregnant, I really didn't have many women to talk to about referrals for midwives. So, I got on-line. I found a couple of private practice midwives and one of them stood out to me, so I called.

Turns out she is a Christian. So she would pray for me at each and every pre-natal appointment. Around my 15th week of pregnancy I started to feel pretty good. I felt so good that I was bored. I told my midwife how I was feeling and the very next week I was attending the "Mom's Group" at her church. That's when my life in Seattle changed.

I was the only woman there that didn't have any kids. Really it was a play group, but since my midwife felt called to care for mother with kids younger than her own, she called it a "Mom's Group". And after a couple of awkward weeks of explaining that the only child I had was the one inside my belly I met some women that invited me to their weekly small group, which they called "parish groups". These were the first people in almost a year of living in Seattle that actually made an effort to get to know us.

During this time I also started providing childcare for my midwife. In hindsight, she was definitely trusting me with a lot after knowing me for only a short amount of time. Being able to take care of her kids also allowed me to get to know her better and we became good friends.

After my husband and I attended the parish group a couple of times we started attending Sunday worship. During the days we were in the hospital awaiting our son's birth the associate pastor called to check on us. After our son was born, women from this same church whom I had never met cooked and delivered dinners and gifts on a daily basis for the first week and a half of my son's life. One of my son's favorite blankets is one that was crocheted by one of the older members of the congregation that makes these blankets for the first born in each family in the church - a woman I have still never met. We never became members of this church, but they always treated us like family.

As I began anew the search for a midwife for my second pregnancy and delivery my needs are very different. The first time around my husband and I really needed a community to love us through this huge transition in our lives. God used our midwife to help provide that for us.

I'm excited to see what is in store of us this time, with new midwives with new gifts and wisdom to share.

Coming Out of The Fog

Sorry about the blank-ness of this post. I was composing on my Blackberry and then I got distracted and somehow the title got posted but not any of the text.

As the title states, it seems that I'm emerging from the morning sickness fog. I haven't thrown up for almost 2 weeks (Praise be to God!). I'm still experiencing some intense nausea and I'm definately still running at a lower energy level, but I can see the light.

Oh that sweet first trimester

I'm about 10 weeks into my pregnancy and this week was been the hardest week yet.

I wake up with headaches that I didn't have when I fell asleep.

I throw up way more than I did during my last pregnancy.

I cry WAY too easily. (for those of you who know me...pretend like this is a new thing)

Admittedly, I am terrible about pregnancy. The miracle of life that is occuring inside of me gets totally lost in my constant struggle to figure out what my body will be like on any given day.

Will I be sick this morning? Will I be able to take my usual walk and still function tomorrow? Will this headache go away if I rest long enough? Will I be able to look at the ketsup bottel today without wanting to hurl?

This part of the miracle of life will pass. God willing, it will get more comfortable, but does that doesn't mean that what's happening right now isn't equally beautiful.

Is there something distracting you from the miracles God is working in your life?

Our Loss

On Sunday, March 9th, 2008 a member of my immediate church family took his own life.

My first recollection of him is from December of 2007. He gave a testimony in church about having somewhere to go for Thanksgiving for the first time in a very long time. He glowed about the friends he had made at our church and was excited to share this joy with the rest of us. I remember getting misty eyed and saying to myself, "You're right, Jason. The people here are at this little church ARE wonderful. Thank you for the reminder."

In the months that followed I would not have many interactions with this man, but there is one moment that stands out in my mind when he talked to my son. He was just saying good morning but he was so happy to talk to my son, that my son matched his enthusiastic greeting. Turns out that lots of the moms at our church had similar stories.

Jason had a son that he was separated from but talked of constantly. Jason had spent time on the street. Even those who spent a significant amout of time with him did not know how to contact his mother. He had been struggling with suicidal thoughts for a long time.

What I know about Jason I only know because he is gone. I only know this information because conversations were had regarding his passing at our church staff meetings and during the memorial service.

However, this loss hit me harder than I expected. Part of my sadness was that this man was younger than I am and the service was being done in my church and many of my closest church family members attended, essentially Jason was a part of my peer group. The other part of my sadness is the disappointment that comes from the fact that I didn't ever take any initiative to know this man. I was forced to look at who I choose to spend time with and why I choose to spend time with those people. My prejudice and/or fear of those who come from different places was exposed in an unavoidable way.

It was clear during the memorial service that I was not the only one confronting this sin.

Our First Overnighter Without the Baby

Last night we left our one and a half year old with the grandparents so we could go to Seattle for an overnight trip. It was the first time he was without either of us overnight.

The trip was my husband's idea. Have I ever mentioned how smart my husband is? If not, let me mention right now...he's wicked smart!

This was our way of celebrating Valentines Day and it was really wonderful! We piggybacked a business opportunity Patrick had in Seattle and decided to stay in our favorite hotel. My husband made reservations at the fabulous restaurant in the hotel but we stayed in, ordered room service and watched a movie. If you know us, this is our idea of a GREAT time.

This morning we slept until we wanted to wake up (this is probably the second coolest things about a trip without the baby) walked to The Market and ate at our favorite French bakery then we walked up to Westlake Center and did a little shopping and alot of looking.

I've always affirmed the need for parents to have date nights and things of that sort. I am now a firm believer of the importance of parents having overnight trips to reconnect with their spouse and have some child free fun. So, if you are a parent and you haven't done this for a while, make some effort to make it happen. You'll thank me for it!

Thursday and Friday

My perspective changed dramatically on Thursday and Friday of this first week of Lent. After a horrible annual meeting I met with our pastor on Thursday to talk over a job description for a volunteer staff position I'll be doing. It was my opportunity to get our Pastor's take on the meeting that had me all confused earlier in the week. After voicing my concerns he shared his perspective - which in short goes something like this - "For me it's a bit of a releif. Now everything is on the table and we can deal with it." These were definately comforting thoughts. Of course, for those of you who know ICC, if you are talking about a leadership position with the pastor you will probably have plent to do in a very short amount of time.



I didn't sleep well Thursday night.



Most of Friday was spent setting up interviews for a new administrative person for the church (our current admin resigned about two weeks ago)..for interviews that pastor wanted to happen on Monday, write a job description for myself, and try to think through and rally some help for a 5 week "prayer initiative" that the pastor is starting...today.



And my Friday was FABULOUS! It was so great to start using some of the gifts that I hadn't used much since I quit working to have a baby. The kicker is I get to use those gifts directly for the benefit of a church body in order to help us accomplish the work of the Kingdom. How awesome is THAT! On Fridays my son and his cousin hang out with my folks so it gave me the perfect opportunity to be on the phone and email alot of the day. (thank you, Lord)



In general, Friday ended up being a great day of feasting. Feasting on the grace that God had provided for me.

Ash Wednesday

Last night we acknowledged our sinfulness at our Ash Wednesday service.

It was a very different type of service than most at ICC. It was quiet and simple and mostly organized and facilitated by women.

Certainly, ICC is in a different and more difficult place than ever before. Starting in January our pastor became a half-time employee of the church. It was not his desire to go to half time but a decision made in light of the reality of our current income.

Our Ash Wednesday service was the first service to follow our annual meeting. This year's annual meeting (and I will qualify this statement by saying I've only been to a handfull of annual meetings) was very ugly. I'm still confused by some of the disrespect and outright meanness that I witnessed my church family inflict on one another.

In one respect it seems totally appropriate to have these struggles during this time in the church calendar. God has provided us an opportunity to be clear about our brokenness as individuals and as a church body.

As I continue to talk with folks about our current state of affairs I'm hearing some scary things. And most of these things involve and contribute to divisions among our congregation.

My question is how do we (as a congregation) get back to Jesus as our focal point? How do we get back to the truth of that scarificial love that frees us to love one another in the way we ought to?

Honestly, I don't know. But I'm going to keep asking until He answers me.

Rollin' to the ABQ

My middle sister lives in Albuquerque, NM. Late last week my one and half year old son and I flew to the ABQ to visit her and her very sweet husband.

Have you ever flown alone with a one and half year old? I don't recommend it.

Let me start by saying my son was ROCK STAR on the plane. He sat in his seat by himself and really seems to enjoy it most of the time.

The tricky part was the airport.

We arrived early for our departing flight since (usually) that makes me feel better about the whole flying experience. I hate to be rushed. My father came inside with me so that he could watch the baby while I checked us in. The guy checking us in actually REFUNDED my son's ticket since the flight was not very full and my son was under two years old. Everything was going really well until we hit the line for security.

I did not bring a stroller for my son because he's not so hip on those things these days. He's all about this new found freedom that walking and running brings to his life. Does this help you imagine how much he DOESN'T understand waiting in line (especially when there is no shopping cart to sit in)?

I'm also wearing a back pack that weighs about 15 lbs and I'm trying to convince my young son that he needs to either let me hold him OR stand right by me while we wait in a line surrounded by transit security officers. I keep assuring him that this will be the hardest part of the whole trip and that once we get to the other side of all that machinery he'll be able to run around all he wants. Somehow, these reassuring words don't really help. He wiggles, and whines, and bolts in the direction of said security officers. I'm sweating before we even reach the x-ray machines.

It's our turn to unload the requires items so the machine can scan them and we can clear the metal detector. I manage to get my shoes off (even though I can't really remember how) after I've removed his shoes and my backpack, jacket, and his jacket - and trying to remember my boarding pass to flash at the lady waiting for us at the metal detector. The kind man attending the machine that scans all of these items helped me by taking my laptop out of my backpack for me.

We make it through the metal detector and are deemed safe by TSA. (Do they ever really do a "random" baggage search on parents traveling alone with kids? ) Now, I've got to collect all our belongings, put our shoes back on and find a way to carry everything else and hold on to my son while doing all of these things. I tried sitting him on the bench provided for putting your shoes back on, but he was not in the mood to sit ANYWHERE. Eventually I managed to trap him between my right thigh and right elbow as I finished tying my shoes.

The worst was past us. It would be another hour and a half before our flight left and for the most part it went well -thanks mostly to a play areas for kids that was at the end of the terminal. Our last big challenge occurred as I tried to get us some food to eat before the flight left. My son did not react differently when asked to wait in line (a shorter but slower line) again.
But we did accomplish our goal and were rewarded with our chicken nuggets and fries.

The trip home included more of the same and the added complexity of changing planes in Salt Lake City. As we exited the plane in Salt Lake City I was very hungry and my blood sugar as a little low. Our first order of business was to get food. So, we waited in another line until we had our black bean burrito and them went back to the gate to eat. But my son was not that excited about sitting and eating. He wanted to run around. I didn't really blame him. After sitting in a plane for two hours, walking around sounded great, but mama was desperate for some food. So our little airport picnic involved taking a bite of the burrito and them dashing off to catch my son who was running as fast as he could down the concourse. But that smile he gave me when I would finally catching him...made most of the work worth it.

I'm so very grateful for the opportunity to spend time with my sister and her husband - especially since in a few short months they will have a baby of their own.

What will I do differently next time? Bring another adult. :)

"How's living at your parent's house?"

In the three and a half months that we've been in my parent's house I've been asked this question several times. And my answer usually goes something like this, "It's great!" Sometimes I'm as surprised by my answer as other folks.

All things considered living with my parents has been pretty enjoyable. My folks have pretty good boundaries and are able to let us do what we need to do and they feel free to do what they need to do.

Even my husband doesn't really complain about living here.

There are a couple of things that make living with my folks more time consuming than just living with my husband and my son. First, there are two more people in the house. Relationships take time and since I want to have relationships with my parents I tend to want to sit down and talk with them. Second, we live on the other side of town from our church and most of our close friends. We spend allot of time in the car driving up and down 99E.

Originally we talked with my parents about staying with them for "a couple of months". Now, it looks like we'll be here for about 5 more months. My parents have been nothing but gracious to us. They don't seem at all bothered by how long we might need to stay. They never make us feel ashamed of the fact that we need their help.

In short, living with my parents is a gift. A beautiful, undeserved gift.