This Pregnancy Thing

I have finally hit the sweatpants, yoga pants, and all things jersey knit portion of my pregnancy. Being a stay at home mom, I usually like to dress cute. It makes me feel good, and I'm always more productive when I don't feel like I'm wearing my pj's.

 Pregnancy is a different bird. I have had round ligament pain, back pain, or sciatica during all four of my pregnancies. By the time I'm feeling as big as a house, I have to seek comfort where I can find it--be it in yoga pants or key lime pie.

This pregnancy has been a difficult one for me mentally. After giving birth to our third son, we knew our family wasn't complete, but I had decided to take a year or two off from the baby-making because I was feeling a bit rundown.

Constantly being pregnant or nursing for three and a half years can really take it out of you, and my body was feeling it. But being the Fertile Myrtle that I am, we ended up pregnant again VERY much on accident.

I'm incredibly happy to have this sweet baby girl, but I must admit that the first couple of months I felt trapped. It's not that I didn't want the baby, I just didn't want to be pregnant. My reluctance to suffer through the initial pregnancy nausea and exhaustion only amplified my discomfort.

I was kicking against the goads: fighting the inevitable and losing every step of the way. I didn't have an epiphany or a turning point that changed everything. I've struggled off and on with every change and pain my body has endured. Pregnancy is just not easy.

I enjoyed my first pregnancy immensely--partly because everything was new and exciting. But each subsequent pregnancy has felt harder and harder in part because I've had more little ones to care for and less time to relax.

All that being said, pregnancy is a perfect prelude to holding that bundle of preciousness in your arms. Pain and joy seem to be inseparably intertwined in the mystery that is motherhood.

In my experience, there has been no growth or maturity in my children without discomfort on my part. This is true of both physical growth in pregnancy and their general growth outside of the womb. Sleep training, potty training, the "terrible" 2's or 3's, and training my babies to obey: each stage and milestone is difficult to achieve, but there is so much joy on the other side of the pain.

Once that baby has been conceived, (in most cases) there is no turning back. I remember standing in the bathroom with my husband the night we found out we were pregnant with our oldest son. He was ecstatic, and I was just standing there in shock thinking: "This baby is inside of me right now, and there is only one exit ramp."

The weight of being someone's mother is something that no one can ever fully prepare you for: the worry, the responsibility, all the mixed emotions, the mommy guilt, the mommy comparison trap, the attachment, the love, and the pride.

 I took my two oldest sons to the playground one day when I was pregnant with our third son. Owen, our oldest, ran up to a group of kids who were running around together and tried to strike up a conversation.

The other children tried to ignore him, but when he didn't get the picture they started running away from him. He had no idea what was going on, so he proceeded to chase them. Finally one of the older kids said, "Everyone can play except you." Then he pointed at my son.

I quickly grabbed him and told him that we were leaving the park. I packed my babies into the stroller and headed home. While I was sprinting away, I heard the bully's mom put the smack down on him (thank goodness). She even yelled an apology to us, but I was booking it because I didn't want anyone to see me sobbing.

After everything, it never really registered with my three year old that the kids at the park had rejected him. I couldn't help but think about all the rejection he will inevitably face in his lifetime without me there to shield him from it. I hate that my children are growing up in a world where they will experience hurt at the hands of others.  And where they will inevitably also turn their hands to hurt.

Things that I would simply ignore and gloss over if they happened in my own life take on fresh meaning and significance when they happen to one of my children. 

So when they delight in a new friend, blow bubbles, or wrestle with their daddy, I am as elated in their delight as I would be if it were my own experience. 

Its like my babies are attached to me with an invisible emotional umbilical cord that no one will ever be able to sever.

In the same way that  pregnancy softens my body, every stage of raising my children has softened my heart. Dealing with all of their needs, joys, issues, and hurts has opened my heart to more love than I can contain at times. 

Trying to understand my little people has given me a greater understanding of myself and other people along with a wider capacity for compassion. 

Swimming Lessons

Now that summer has wound down for all intents and purposes, I've been reflecting a bit about what we did and learned. One of the more harrowing summer events for both me and my oldest son was swimming lessons.

 There's a great indoor pool within walking distance of our house that offered swimming lessons all summer long for $30 a session. The price could not be beat! So I signed poor Owen up since he was the only one of our children who fit within the age requirements.

 I knew it would be bad, we had him in lessons this winter and he cried and complained the whole time. I braced myself for the worst, but even I didn't realize just how bad it would be this time around.

The thing is, our son just wasn't comfortable going all the way under water. In the classes he took a few months ago they were more gradual with the whole process. They blew bubbles in the water, kicked, started to learn some basic floating; then the very last skill they practiced was jumping in the water. When they jumped in, the teacher would let them go under for a brief second before catching them.

Because of our travel schedule this summer, I was only able to sign him up for the final session of lessons: so maybe they were a bit more gradual in the first weeks. His teachers started every class off by making each child bob under water 3 times. This sent my boy into hysterics! He screamed his head off and refused to do it--so his teacher did it with him. Afterwards he continued to scream, cry, and refuse to do anything his teacher asked of him.

Owen became very skilled in the art of stalling. Once we got to the pool he would immediately request to go to the bathroom (which confused me because he always went before we left the house). One morning, I decided to be all tough love on him, and I told him "NO". He then promptly proceeded to poop in his pants.

I was humiliated. I considered just giving up on the lessons, but what kind of lesson would that teach my child. "Son, when things get hard, when you feel like you're in over your head, and you feel out of control, just give up." I knew this experience wouldn't kill him (maybe just scar him a little), so I decided we'd soldier on.

The first person I had to deal with was myself. Of course I wanted my boy to succeed in swimming, but mostly I just wanted him to stop screaming, crying, and causing a general ruckus in the middle of the aquatic center. I was embarrassed. I was annoyed. I was angry. How had I failed in my mothering and nurturing of him to such an extent that he was afraid of the water?

Whoa now Renee! This whole thing is not about you and your real or imagined failures. Stop thinking about what all the other moms with the adventurous and fearless little tykes think of your parenting chops, and start actually helping your son.

Well, telling him to stop crying over and over again was NOT helping. I tried assuring him that he wouldn't drown since mommy and his teacher were both watching him like a hawk. We talked about being brave at home and prayed on our walk to the pool every morning, but fear still had him  paralyzed.

Then one morning my neighborhood mom friend randomly came over and talked to Owen while he was having one of his mini panic attacks. Instead of telling him to calm down and assuring him that everything was going to be ok, she asked him to tell her the names of his classmates. Then she showed him how to cheer for them and encourage them while he was waiting to get in the water. Genius I tell you!

Immediately he calmed way down. He watched his classmates, and he got to know a few of them. It was like a giant light bulb went off in his head--there are other people in my class besides me and they are going through the same thing I am. That realization was enough to break through his shell of self-pity and fear.

I'm not going to say that everyday after that was rainbows and roses, but it was a start. Finally I knew where to start. Helping him to get his eyes off of himself, and onto others was the first step in overcoming his fear. By the end of his sessions, he hadn't mastered every skill, but he had been able to attempt to do everything his teachers asked of him calmly; that was HUGE! 

Lessons from my Husband: A Reflection on our First 5 Years

How can I sum up our first five years of marriage? It feels like 5 minutes ago and 500 years ago all at once.  4 houses, 2 states, 3 children... I've changed; we've changed.

 When we got married, we were madly in love. Don't get me wrong, we're still in love, but much of the madness has faded. Now we are able to see each other and our life together through more realistic spectacles. 

In the early days we were much more focused on adoring one another. These days, we're more focused on laughing about our babies, remembering what God has done in our lives, and enjoying good food, wine, conversation, and experiences.

We are painfully normal. We go through ups and downs. Like any other couple, there are times when we disagree, we take each other for granted, we don't feel connected, and we miss out on opportunities to spend time together.

But, being a front row participant in my husband's life has taught me so much. Listening to his struggles, following his (sometimes complicated) thought processes, and experiencing life's joys and pain with him has been an education.

In honor of our fifth anniversary, I'll share five things I've learned while living with and loving Jonathan Henson.

1. Be reasonable

My husband loves to talk, and he can talk to anyone. He especially loves to talk to people who hold beliefs that differ from his. He doesn't engage these people because he believes that he can crush their arguments. He enjoys these conversations because he believes that he has as much to learn as he has to share.

 On more occasions than I can count I've sat listening to him talk to people in our dining room, in local bars and restaurants, and wherever he happens to strike up conversation. People always leave him feeling challenged but loved.

 It's easy to demonize people who are different: to laugh at their "ignorance", to assume their simple stupidity.  We forget that every person is made in the image of God and therefore reflects that image in some way. There is much that we can learn, see the good, challenge the evil.

2. Fire and Motion

It's a catchphrase around our house that was inspired by this article written by Joel Spolsky-- who is one of my husband's software engineering heroes. It means: don't expect to be wildly productive everyday, but keep moving forward. Fire at your enemy and keep moving. Gain a little ground everyday and one day the battle will be won.

3. Never stop learning

When we first got married Jonathan was focused on going to seminary.  Then he landed a job in software development and the rest is history. He fell in love. So with the same vigor he used to plumb the depths of weighty theological issues, he threw himself into C, C++, Java, MySQL, and plenty of other things I still don't understand.

The man solves math problems and writes programs for fun in his free time. He loves to learn and expand his mental capacities, and I love to eat chips and watch movies. He has inspired me to read more, think more, and stop squandering my gifts.

4. His name is Jonathan not Jesus

This is a lesson I seem to learn over and over again. In my mind our relationship should always feel deeply connected and wildly passionate. I want to stay up till 3am every night having amazing conversations. I want to know every detail of his day. I want him to text me funny stories about his co-workers all day and pictures of what he ate for lunch.

 The reality is that we are two deeply flawed people who work hard all day and have three young children. We work beside each other and don't always have time or energy. I cannot look to my husband to fill every need I have for love, validation, or even companionship. If I do this I will suck him dry.

Jonathan sent me a sweet letter with this Bob Dylan quote enclosed while we were dating. It was after our first fight about my not feeling connected. I wish I could say this conflict doesn't come up anymore, but it does. The last line he added himself.

 Go ’way from my window

Leave at your own chosen speed

I’m not the one you want, babe

I’m not the one you need

You say you’re lookin’ for someone

Never weak but always strong

To protect you an’ defend you

Whether you are right or wrong

Someone to open each and every door

But it ain’t me, babe

No, no, no, it ain’t me, babe

It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for, babe

....It's Jesus

5. Embrace your limitations

This is a lesson we've been learning together over the past 5 years. We're learning that God honors our faithfulness more than our ambition. We want to do so much, change so much, and we think we have good ideas.

But we're finding that we only have time to do our jobs, care for our children, love our neighbors, pray to our God, and fall into bed so we have the strength to do it again the next day. This is my husband's favorite quote from The Hobbit and it just about sums it up:

 Saruman believes it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that is not what I have found. I found it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love. Why Bilbo Baggins? I don't know. Perhaps because I am afraid, and he gives me courage. -- Gandalf, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.