Bummed.

So, my breastmilk is depleting and we are coming to the end of the breastfeeding era. I am sad. It appears to be a combination of stressed out/dehydrated mom and uninterested David.
During the day, he just doesn't "have time" to breastfeed. He barely has time to eat solids. It's go-go-go all the time. He will take the breast in the morning when he is sleepy (and the cat is not around. Sorry Milhaud. Morning feeding = you hang out outside) and at night. When he is sleepy. He gets excited if I offer during the day, but that only lasts about 30 seconds then it's off to the next thing.
The other problem I am running into is that I have been busy and stressed out sinced we got back from Colorado which causes me to not drink as much because I don't think about it. One track mind. Go do this. Take care of David. Take care of myself? Only when everything else is taken care of. When I realized how much less milk I have been producing I had a big wake up call.
Now I am trying to boost my milk supply by drinking more and drinking Mother's Milk tea and trying to get David to nurse, but after a week, I am not seeing much change. I think we are just at the end of an era.
It makes me sad. I like breastfeeding. It is really the only cuddle time I get with the busy monkey. Ah, well. All things come to an end eventually. I will take my 5 minutes of cuddle time in the morning and evening and cherish it all the more for the brevity of it.

Continuing to wait and continuing to pray...

Welp. David is older than the last time I posted (obviously). In fact, he will be 9 months this week. I am still tired! But, I have devised a sort of system as far as housekeeping is concerned. It is called, clean up the mess after you make it. Novel idea. My mom has always been on my case about this since I was a little girl. Recently, I have been putting it into practice and it is amazing how well it works! Usually, the mess is cleaned up after the monkey goes to sleep, but it is still going ok.
I haven't blogged in forever because nothing much has changed. I am still praying for God to make a way for me to be a stay at home mom. I got a bit of comfort in this arena today, from the sermon at church, of all places! The sermon was about The Lord's Prayer. One thing he said really stuck out to me. God always answers prayer and He does it in 3 different ways.
1. Yes! Your will is also My will!
2. Not right now. That will be good for you later, but not right now.
3. I have something better in mind.
So. I can infer that my desire to stay home with David is obviously not a "Yes, definitely, right now" type of answer. I have two options left to me. "Not right now" and "I have something better in mind." Either way is not so shabby. "Not right now" implies that God needs me where I am right now. This tells me that my work for Him as a floor nurse is not done yet. In that case I am in the perfect place, which is in God's will, and who am I to argue with Him about it? The "I have something better in mind" option is obvious. He has something better in mind and I am excited to see what that might be.
So. Until I figure out which way we are headed I will continue to pray that God will provide a way for me to be David's full time mommy. I will also continue to pray that He would give me the grace and the strength to continue to glorify Him where I am.

Thoughts on Motherhood thus far

In a nut shell: Tough, but worth it. Wow, that sounds cliche. Let me expound. I will probably sound like a big whiner, so bear with me, those who care to read on. David is a good baby. He is not fussy without reason. I get cranky when I am hungry/tired/dirty/etc, too. However, it can be quite a challenge figuring out which it is sometimes. Especially, when I'm tired. Which brings me to my next paragraph.

I am tired. Yes, I know. It comes with the territory, but I am tired. Bone tired. Seems like I will never not be tired. Because I am tired my house is a wreck. And it seems like every effort I make to get it into some semblance of presentable gets undone as soon as it is done and my kid is not even mobile yet. How can this be? Do things just jump out of place when I am not looking? Right now, as I write this, I am frustrated to tears. Where is my magic wand? Accio clean house!! Nope. Didn't work. At least, as far as I know it didn't work. I mean, Matt didn't call me just now to say, "Wow, our house just cleaned itself!!" How does one work 2 nights a week, care for a precocious 4 month old and keep the house clean and husband happy? It must be possible. Right? Is it not possible? If it is not, I would like to know so I can stop feeling like a lazy idiot. Maybe I am just a lazy good for nothing. Maybe my dad was right when he told me no man would want me because I was bad at house work.

What I would really like is to not work at all. Not a possiblity at this point in our lives, but a dream none the less. Before I had David I didn't want to go to work because I liked being at home, but I didn't worry about leaving Matt alone. He liked the time to himself so it wasn't too difficult giving it to him. Besides, once I was at work it wasn't so bad as jobs go. It really is a rewarding job and it is as much ministry as it is a job.

Now, however, it is getting harder and harder to leave David. I know he is with daddy and they are having "guys' night," but he is so upset when I am gone. Matt texts me at at work that he cries for hours at a time. I don't want to have to have other people take care of him and I definitely don't want to have to put him in Mother's Day Out. I don't like this at all. Sure, you can "present" reality to me and tell me that we need the money I bring in from my two nights a week and we need the health insurance that my job provides, but I don't like being away from my baby and that is the short and tall of it.

So. I am going to pray that God will somehow make a way for me to stay home. I can't see one right now, but I know that He can. Meanwhile, I will wait. This is the lenten season right now, is it not? Lent is all about waiting. This year the song Matt is using to tie in a sermon series all about the number 40, is the song "40" by U2. Here are the words:

I waited patiently for the Lord
He inclined and heard my cry
He brought me up out of the pit
Out of the miry clay

I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song

How long to sing this song
How long to sing this song
How long...how long...how long...
How long...to sing this song

He set my feet upon a rock
And made my footsteps firm
Many will see
Many will see and fear

I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song

How long to sing this song
How long to sing this song
How long...how long...how long...
How long...to sing this song

What do I see here? "I waited patiently for the Lord. He inclined and heard my cry." Ok. I will wait. He is not deaf. He can hear and see my need/desire. "He set my feet upon a rock and made my footsteps firm." He will give me the strength to wait. And He will give me the strength to figure out life until then.

I just realized that all I did was whine this entire post. I did not even mention the part that makes all this frustration worth it. My beautiful (I figure I can get away with that term for at least a year, right?) child. Just when I think it wasn't possible, the little man child grows more beautiful every day. He makes me laugh all the time, even when he wakes me up in the middle of the night. I love his cooing (video to come on facebook of that cuteness) and smiles. I love that he is so friendly to everyone he meets. He is changing by the minute, it seems and is so smart. He observes everything so seriously. One can almost hear the gears turning in his brain. He makes the frustration and exhaustion worth it. I can keep going just so I can see what he will do next.

A different use for this blog.

When I first started using this blog I thought it would be a good place to post updates on my growing family. Now, however I think I will use facebook for that. Everybody that would be interested in familial updates are on facebook. Instead I will use this post as a commentary on life. Since I am not inspired to comment on life very often there will probably not be many entries. Every now and then, however, I do get inspired (usually at work when there is nothing else to do) and so I will blog. If you the reader are so inclined to read my inspirations, be they ever so few and far between, I encourage you to do so!

Refreshing!

Sunday, in church, I came across the usual sympathizers and anecdote tellers (although I managed to avoid the inevitable belly rubbers). However, I came across a new and refreshing experience as well.

There is a woman in the choir (I cannot recall her name. I feel terrible about this, but there are many people who know me that I cannot recall their name.) who was very helpful. She started out the conversation by asking me how I felt. I do not mince words (as I am sure those who keep up with me have noticed) so I told her exactly how I felt. I want to deliver this baby. I feel heavy, tired, uncomfortable, and impatient to meet this new little person. After commiserating with me for a minute on the discomforts of the third trimester she grabbed my hand and started to pray. I know people are praying for me and with me as I have been venturing on this whole pregnancy adventure (believe me, I have felt the prayers), but it was something else to have somebody suddenly pray in my presence. What she prayed for specifically was what has been on my mind the most lately. She prayed for a safe and healthy labor and delivery, a continued healthy pregnancy, and a healthy baby. I admit it. I cried. I always cry when someone prays for me in my presence. I guess it is up there with remembering that God actually cares for me personally.

She has done this before. She grabbed me and prayed for me when I was in my second trimester. Again, she hit every prayer request on the head without me telling her what to pray for. Every time she has done this has been right after a session of obsessing and brooding on all the things that "could" happen. It is amazing to me how the Holy Spirit is always reminding me to trust Him. I know in my head that He is totally in control, but sometimes I forget to apply this to my life. Why? It is not like He has EVER let me down before. What gets me is that everytime I pray I know we will be okay. It is the times when I think to much without telling God about it that I start to freak out.

So. How do I apply this? The thing to do is to remember to never think without "thinking aloud" to God. Right? Every time I do it this way my brooding sessions always turn into praise sessions. It is not like God is going to be offended. He already covered all my stupid brooding and doubts with the blood of Jesus. (Why am I crying now? Is it the hormones or the fact that it is 0420 and I need to be in bed, but would be fired from my job if I went to sleep right now? Maybe a combination of the two...) So. From now on. Think aloud to God. Yep. That's what I am gonna have to do. All thinking must go to the Boss because not only is He the Boss, He is also the "freak less" guy. Every time I freak out to God he calms me down and causes me to freak less. I guess that is my lesson. That. and. How awesome is it to have true believers around? The woman at church (don't even know her name and don't really need to) is truly doing her job as a sister in Christ. She comes along side me, takes my hand, and brings me to God. I know that it is a Holy Spirit thing. As if we could really do that kind of thing of our own volition.

Pregnant lady crankasaurus rantings and ravings

I like to think I am usually pretty even keel when it comes to temperament, but I am turning into a crankasaurus. This pregnancy thing has been pretty cool. I mean, having a separate human being growing in my belly is a pretty neat thought.

It is not neat anymore. He is heavy and digging into my pelvis. He is no longer a cute little wriggle worm. No he is a giant kick boxing baby and the punching bag is my ribs and liver and stomach. He will probably be very cute and wriggly when he is born, but for now I am annoyed. Instead of David Matthew we are going to have to call him Paul Bunion and paint poor Milhaud blue. (I just read over all that and realized what horrible things these are to say about my child. Please keep in mind that I do not dislike my son. I just think we both might be more comfortable with him on the outside.)

Yesterday morning my mother bore the brunt of my crankiness as she is the one I talk to in order to keep myself awake on the way home from work. Sunday night I had two nurses declare that I will be pregnant all the way up to 42 or 43 weeks because I have a midwife. Folks, I have no sense of humor anymore. That is just not funny and won't be funny for at least a few months yet. It is just wrong and quite discouraging. When a person is apt to cry at the drop of a hat it is just downright mean to curse them with the misery of 3rd trimester pregnancy for 2-3 weeks past their due date.

I understand that there are few at work who "approve" of my choice of having a midwife instead of a doctor (although, lets face it, I am pregnant, not sick). However, I believe I have actually received better and less paranoid prenatal care than I would have with an OBGYN. Midwives are all about prevention where as most doctors wait for the problem to crop up and then deal with it with multiple interventions that could have been avoided with a little teaching. Doctors are great and wonderful for high risk pregnancies, but mine is not high risk. Also, my midwife does not sit around during the third trimester waiting for the body to figure out how to go into labor. She provides well researched herbal supplements that prepare the body naturally for labor and assist the cervix with dilation. If the doctor thinks labor isn't coming fast enough (or if their patient is whiney enough) they will go ahead and induce labor. If that doesn't work there is always a c-section! For those reading this that have chosen an OBGYN, please do not think I am judging you. To each his own (or better yet, her own). I just don't appreciate being looked down upon for my choice. So I choose to have a midwife instead of a doctor. How does this hurt my judgy nursing peers? So I choose to labor without analgesic or epidural. How does this effect them? It is my body and I have the right to choose the labor and care that is best for me. I do not try to convince others to do the same. In fact I encourage my childbirth class people to follow their doctor's advice and orders and I encourage them to get an epidural if they feel that will provide the best experience for them.

Ok. So. I guess I feel better now. Please understand that I am really not a terrible person. I am just uncomfortable. I am also getting to the point where I am ready to meet this new person. I think he is going to be a neat kid and I am anxious to get to know him (that, and it is daddy's turn to carry him around for awhile ;-) ). Please continue to pray with me for a continued healthy pregnancy, a healthy delivery, and a healthy baby who will follow his namesake and become a man after God's own heart.

An interesting work week. God is still Sovereign

So Sunday night/Monday morning a lady came in 32 weeks 4/5 days and after much stupidity on the side of the doctor ended up delivering a dead baby. Today I am 32 weeks 6 days. When I heard of the fate of this woman's pregnancy I had a panic moment. I had begun to think I was in the clear as far as David's health. If I went into preterm labor at this point he would more than likely be fine. Everything is pretty much developed. He just needs to grow. The other lady's pregnancy is evidence that stuff can still happen. When I heard her story I knew that I had to pray, but could not even find words. I just had to let the Holy Spirit take over at that point because I was so freaked out.

Then, Monday evening on my way to work I found some words. I prayed the usual - a continued healthy pregnancy, a healthy labor and delivery, a healthy baby who is a good eater, good sleeper, not allergic to my cat, and not a screecher. I also found myself praying for the grace to give him back to God. It is amazing to me how attached I have become to someone I haven't actually met. Sure, I feel him pummeling me from the inside out, but I have never seen him, or held him. I asked God to be with me and Matto as we embark on this new adventure of parenthood. I want so much for him and he hasn't even been born yet. Most of all I want for me and Matto to demonstrate a strong faith in God. I want him to grow up understanding that he is loved and can come to us with anything. Lofty goals. Anyway, after all this praying I turned on the radio and this is the song that came on from my Skillet CD:

Whispers in the Dark

Pre-chorus:
I will be the one that's gonna hold you
I will be the one that you run to
My love is A burning, consuming fire

Chorus:
No
You'll never be alone
When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars
Hear my whispers in the dark
No
You'll never be alone
When darkness comes you know I'm never far
Hear my whispers in the dark

It is good to know we are not going into this thing by ourselves. We, as David's parents, are his guides in life, but we have a guide who knows the way better than us and all we have to do is follow him.

Praying took away the anxiety for a healthy delivery as well. I know God is still in control and hasn't lost a lick of his sovereignty. It is good to be reminded.

Also, I have a patient tonight that delivered via c-section at 33 weeks because her baby's heart rate would not come down. When the baby was born his APGARs were 9 and 9 (that is good by the way) and after a little cardioversion (they shocked him with the paddles) his heart started working right again. This was a good reminder that not all pregnancies turn out with a dead baby. Sometimes when I see the sad stories I forget about the miriads of happy stories that happen multiple times a day around here. It is not all roses, but then again, it is not all thorns either.