Ok. Lets do this.

Thanks for your stories and your advice, all.

I have made the decision to actively pursue a natural childbirth in a hospital.  (Hooray).

I feel I've educated myself, some additional stories have reassured me that this is a well and good (and achievable) path to take.   Now that I have signed up for pre-natal yoga, a Bradley class, and just flat out think that I CAN do it... my mind is easing tremendously.

If the train crashes and I need the drugs in the middle, it wont be the end of the world or of my pride, as long as the baby is healthy.

But I will do everything I can to prepare myself mentally, physically and practically... then let the chips fall.    There can't be anything wrong with that plan.

We are truly fearfuly and wonderfully made.

23 Weeks.

I miss blogging.  I do think that blogging started and sustained me through a very hungry place in life.  Many things have changed and I feel less drawn to this angst-ridden place, but I think writing down things can and will continue without that gritty purpose. 

Maybe a new purpose, this little gentle Tiger growing in my belly, is reason enough to chronicle. 

Perhaps, well, no, certainly, I will greet that gritty angst-y hungry place of motherhood soon enough, and will need the outlet.  So as with all other preparations for this world-changing ball of uncertainty kicking me from the insides, I dust off the blog and commit to writing again. 

Oh yes, and we got a new camera.  So there's that.

Here we go.  First set of thoughts.

To medicate or not to medicate?  Or, the first test of how to be a 'good mom' according to 'them'.

If you use medical interventions or pain relief during the birth of your child, there is a school of passionate-well meaning granola-bars (Dr. Granola Bars, actually) out-there that write books and blog blogs about how this disrupts the delicate instincts of mothers.  The beautiful and perfect balance of hormones and juices and happiness and instincts that have kept our species alive and bonding for as long as humans have walked on two legs.  People who claim we are doing great harm in medicating and intervening in the process of birth, making the most normal and low-risk occurance a medical emergency more often than it needs to be.

There are then a school of mothers that want to punch those people in the face as they grab for the epidural button.

And doctors who listen supportively to your desires to have a natural birth and then roll their eyes and go order the epidural that they know you will cave-in and ask for.

I wish I had enough faith and trust in my body to be completely in the Granola camp.  I do not mean that to be an offensive term. I merely mean it as a description of the holistic care movement in general, of which I am not against in the least.  I want to do the best for my kid.  Right out of the gate.  And everything they preach sounds amazing and right and good and YES, of COURSE I wanna do that.  Doesn't make me want to paint my unborn child's placenta, that's a little off the path for me..but whatever....I'm MADE for this childbirth thing.  My mom did this (and to an 11 lb. 7oz baby no less).  I will do this! Maybe not even in a hospital. Maybe in a forest.  Or a waterfall somewhere. 

On the other hand, I also hate pain.  Right now I have a dry nostril that is giving me fits.  My mom said she would have taken the drugs had they been available. Other moms have said the same to me.  One MIDWIFE is on tape begging for an epidural at her OWN HOME BIRTH.  Doesn't inspire much confidence in my 'beautifully attuned system'.  Yet others have said their natural births "weren't that bad" or "the baby just slipped out".

They say if you go into a natural birth unprepared in a hospital setting, you will at somepoint ask for an intervention.   They say if you go in with a "we'll try it, why not?" attitude, you will fail. 

The other camp says if you go in and dont' go through with the natural birth, you shouldn't feel as if you failed.

One camp says "visualize" your birth positively.

The mothers who have had babies say "yeah...do that until 7cm...then get the drugs"

I'm certainly not discounting the births where medical interventions are most certainly necessary.  But it's become more and more unclear to me what 'certainly necessary' even means.   I think most, including the modern medical community are in the camp that inductions are undesirable.  Luke and I agree on this.  But epidurals?  One teeny-weeny one can't hurt can it?  I do find it odd that the same doctors who tell us not to even take cold medicine during pregnancy are suddenly ok with narcotics during labor.

It feels like a hot mess.  Like, once again, we are trying to control and put something into a neat little box, that by nature was never meant to be so controlled.  Giving birth to a human being was really never designed to be something for our convenience or comfort.  Blessing? Absolutely.  Fun?  I'm just not so sure.

Right now I'm living in a mental cycle that goes like this...

"YES, I will do it naturally, and I'm stark raving TERRIFIED about it.  Well, I shouldn't spend the next 17 weeks in terror.  No... just relax, plan to get the drugs, everyone else does it, and then I feel ashamed that I am agreeing to jack with my hormones and with my baby....maybe I should try it naturally..."

Seems like a healhy place to be right?  Maybe this is why I am having dreams where I shoot people.

My way-more-stable husband had a good mantra that is sustaining me for now "Healthy Mom, Healthy Baby"  even though I dont really know what that means. It suggests that the end is more important than the means and that we will get through it somehow.

I welcome advice and thoughts and your personal views on this delicate subject.

Since being Pregnant...

List of Weird Dreams.

More on the general state of Pregnancy later.

1. Dreamt that I had the baby early on two separate occasions. One was a girl with no nose, and one was a boy with full goatee.

2. Dreamt that I have shot two people now. The son of the man who operates our local deli, and a random stranger who was in my high school.

3. Dreamt that I have been slated to play college basketball again, for some magical fifth year, and was woe-fully ill prepared, no shoes, no jersey, wrong jersey, not a single day of practice under my belt, etc. (Have had this dream about 4 times now, including once where my ‘boyfriend’ Gary Coleman was in the stands, and once where immediately after, I was scheduled to perform as the lead in a production of Les Miserables)

4. Dreamt that I had a liturgical Role in Leigh Abernathy Cannons “wedding” which was like no event Leigh would EVER plan, and certainly not the man she married. Included the most Hitchcock-like release of VULTURES instead of doves at the end. I knew none of my lines, and the wedding was absolutely hideous and covered in heavy dusty velvet tapestries with gold tassels and such.

5. Dreamt I killed some close family members Dexter-Style (they shall remain nameless because I am not entirely sure which ones they were). With no regret except that Luke and I hid the bodies in a bad place. The closet of a lake house that was for sale and being shown regularly by realtors. “We need to have a talk” I told him when I woke up.

6. Dreamt I had my vehicle taken over by Dave Geiser and his three kids (Dave only has two) and they boarded my Equinox from a moving vehicle on the highway while wearing black hooded cloaks. Then, after dropping them off at their destination, I left my car and returned to find the ENTIRE Iowa State Men’s basketball team and three cheerleaders sleeping in my car, and they trashed it.

7. Dreamt my house burned down. This was the most horrible yet.

Long Time

Has been awhile.   Lots goin on. 

Went to Charleston SC on our honeymoon.   We ate our way through the city, happily.  She-crab soup and salads with bacon-jam on them. (!)  Grand Marnier souffles and fried green tomatoes.  Sweet potato pancakes and lovely local greasy spoons. And grits.  Oh man, did we eat.

Back to a reality that is new and fun. Resting. Building a life together. Nesting. Breathing. Laughing.

Not really cleaning so much.  But we'll get there. I hope.

Road trips to see new family and friends are never dull.

In our apartment. We rent a parking space from our downstairs neighbor, Jeffrey.  He has lived there for 1000 years and makes soup and freezes it.  He has two little white dogs he calls his "boys" and they often chew our welcome mats and sleep against our front and back apartment doors.   It's sweet and weird. Luke put some cayenne pepper on the back one, I think it only served as bait.

Luke looks cute in scrubs.

I have put on all my weight again, I look cute in nothing but circus tents. But he loves me still.

If life goes in cycles, we are certainly in a new one.  One where new friends are now very old and deep friends.  Where I have just completed my 10 year anniversary at my company.  They have also become very old and deep friends.

Friends babies are now almost driving.   My hair has a few grays, my hands more stiffness, my knees creak and groan.  The volleyball court gets more social and less competitive simply because we cannot keep up with the springy young gazelles anymore.   I think striving ceased a little.  It's nice.

Fall in St.Louis is as beautiful as ever and church is starting to feel like home again.

The Lord is ever present, ever faithful, and ever deafeningly silent, like He does.

AND. That blessed day approaches when we get to have a whole extra hour!  My heart dances and sings.

I am thankful.

So how do you like that?

Whew.  I'm married.  It happened.  I'm happy.

Update

I answered a question about five months ago.

Little did I know that that little question was just the beginning of a million other questions that would also need answers.

From what color should this be, to how will I ever be a good wife or mother?   How do you leave your parents and cleave to another person when all they have been is great to you?  Where do you get flowers? How do you say yes to a dress?  Where are you going to live? How do you still have friends after you plan a wedding?  How do you meet a thousand new people, new family, change churches, get a new small group, move, say goodbye to living with your brother (s), help your beloved get through nursing school and keep your job and your mind?  Oh and blog?

I said "of course" to Luke Stigers on November 20th.  They day after I returned from Belgium.

Yesterday, we received our first wedding gift.  A beautiful banner with the words "Come to Me" and "You will find Rest for your Souls" hand-made in a gorgeous fabric mosaic assembled in a beautiful one-of-a-kind design.  This rendered me speechless.   Tear-less even.  To avoid complete ugly-cry meltdown, I had to kinda pretend it didn't slice me to the quick and stitch me up at the same time.  It was so right-on for us.  For both of us.  We have both had restless roads up until this point.  And the Savior who offers us Rest is always a source of overwhelming joy to me.   Tastes of it occur daily from my dear mom helping me fold thousands of clothes, to my dad figuring out the southwest rapid rewards system for OUR honeymoon tickets on HIS birthday.    To new mother-in-law who slaves in a kitchen for days to allow her community to come and love on me, someone they have never even met.  To the amazing Liz who designed the most gorgeous wedding invitations I've ever seen for free in her "free time" between about 10:30 pm and 1am after she started her new job.

Is there any end to the blessings?  Sometimes it seems not fair at all.  Surreal, is what Luke said today.  It is completely crazy.  Maybe this time is a well-ordained equipment for harder days to come, when the flowers are dead, and you are once again too fat to fit into that dress, and your children start to ask the same questions you have and you are only semi-sure of the answers.  Weddings are weird things.  Rites of passage, that those who elope miss out on.  The dynamics, the decisions, the binding of two people together, not just at their point of contact, but at their roots and beyond as well.  Liz and many others may feel more invested into my future marriage now that she has worried with me over some details of it.  As I did for hers. The success of her marriage is personal to me because I tore strips of fabric for her.

As an aside, the emerging theme of fabric continues to strike me, as it has in other weddings.  For hers, we tied strips of cloth on clothesline to compliment the beautiful backdrop of fall, we used burlap and lace and other tactile things to seal that day.  For mine, there is the banner, assembled into Gods Word over us, and a hand-made quilt from a grandmother.  Fabrics.  Pieced together at a pace that is easy.  A pace that conversation happens over.  That love grows over.

When you outsource this stuff, when you just write a check for it, somehow those dear to us miss out.  On a chance to sew, to tie, and to bind us together.  To provide preemptive support for the days to come described by the wise as "better than you could imagine and worse than you can imagine".  

As a long-time singleton it's difficult for me to not consistently apologize for this time.  To apologize for feeling stressed when others would welcome these million decisions.  To apologize for being giddy and talking about it ad nauseum to those who are well past this time in their lives and into the nitty gritty times who would also much rather be picking out table napkins and song lists. To apologize for the biblical-ness of marriage and walk that line of celebrating this wonderful, sharpening and good and beneficial path in life and also acknowledging the sting of singleness and the ones dear to me who struggle with ceremonies that point out "incompleteness" or where it speaks of "not being good for man to be alone".

I am thrilled to be taking this next step.  With all the unknowns, the joys the sorrows, the reality of living with another person, another sinner and their process, forEVER.   I struggle not to spreadsheet it for fear I will back out after the risk assessment.  It will require everything. You will live for another all the time.  You will sacrifice yourself, and it will be the best thing you ever do.

If you are a praying sort, please pray for Rest for our Souls.  For rest enough to somehow find the energy to enjoy this time, and to keep food on the table while trying to plan and be present for a milestone event. While trying to maintain graciousness to all who will be a part of it, to enjoy it fully while being sensitive to those who long for this day to come to them as well, and the freedom to celebrate lavishly while there are so many in need and destruction.

May this celebration unite us together so we may fight darkness as more compassionate, more healed, more whole, more loving people.

Who blog more.

Rochefort and Dinant.

Grace at this adorable little restaurant that gives you blankets to sit outside next to the fire.

Going down into the Cave at Rochefort

The trees on the drive to work.  The one day we saw them in daylight. 

The entertainment after work.  

Ghent

When I mention Ghent, two people have quoted to me now: "Tell me you went to Bruges first.  You don't want to miss that gem." 

What movie is this from?  I feel out of it for not knowing the quote.  Is it from the 2008 Colin Farrel flick "In Bruges"?  I'm at a loss.

Regardless, Ghent was a Gem indeed.  There aren't words for how the clear slanty autumn rays bathed this city in light.  Maybe some pics will suffice.  I wish I was Courtney or Jodie or Elisa at this juncture.



This is Grace, roomate extraordinaire!

George, Lindsey and Grace.

The symbols of  Ghent.

Grace Choi shown for Scale.   This was a two-handed sword.  Obviuosly.

George drinking Mussel juice.  Grace pretending to drink Mussel juice for purposes of the photo.  To me, the smarter option of the two. ;)

Bikes literally as far as the eye could see.  I think this is where bikes are grown. 

Chasing Light.

To quote the Dassler, "Glory be to God for Dappled things."

Belgian iPhone Nights.

The iPhone camera has this cool button that switches the camera from the back of the phone to the face of the phone  Thus, I can capture my face looking like this....when I look at things like this:

Ew.  As if regular ones weren't weird enough.  These are orange.  And I dont know why.
Yes, lets keep them on the "DL".  

More Grocery Store Prophecy.  I give you Cheesus of Nazareth.

Mia also knows exactly how to take a picture of herself as she looks at the phone.  In rapid succession.  I had about 50 of her thumb.

And of her folks.



And of Gordon.  Who made us dinner.  Lamb Shanks stuffed with Goat Cheese and Olives, slathered in Spicy Dijon mustard and rolled in bread crumbs.  Parmesean Risotto, veggies, and vanilla ice cream with fresh Strawberries.  Love this guy.   (PS I stuffed the lamb LOOK OUT!).

Mia also loves taking and watching video of herself.  We watched this video about 20 times.  And she would laugh every time.



Belgium Sneek Peek.



Don't be fooled, this is actually a  HUGE smile.  (I had just given her one of my rings to play with!)



There are indeed waffles under there.

Amelia loves to "Cheers".  She learned it on the Amstel tour. 

The Flat.

Dont be fooled.  I had just given George one of my rings to play with.