Brace yourselves - this is a long one.
Thanks, everyone, for your supportive feedback. I didn’t write that post expecting much feedback. I had just read and replied to the email I received and needed to spurt out what I was feeling. I’m definitely feeling better today. A little extra quiet time and time alone can help with perspective.
I am not angry at the girl who wrote me. I don’t know her from, well, Adam. And she does have the right to her own opinions. I think that the reason that I was so upset goes something like this…
If someone that knew me in The Real World had sat me down and shared concerns about what I was posting, I would take it to heart and go from there. When someone knows your heart well, they can give you a gentle reproach and you know that it is likely needed.
In this case, a complete stranger went into lengthy detail about the effect that my postings could have on people who read them, and that they might reflect badly on God. That upset me because this person does not know my heart, so maybe there were others reading that felt the same way. I also disagreed with some of what she said, but that was not the main reason for my being upset.
I stepped back from my computer and thought about why I post what I do. I honestly do think about what I write on here before I post. I don’t post much about what I am learning or what God is doing or showing. Why is that? Well, that can often sound “preachy”, or self-righteous, etc. God likes it when we do good things in secret so as to please him and not to receive the praise of man. Posting that stuff here would not make it very secret.
So, I post about my sweet boys, happenings in our life, and random thoughts that I’m processing. I try and do this through a filter that would make God happy. I will obviously not do that every time, but that is my intent. The post that prompted her email was my attempt to be funny when I didn’t much feel like laughing. I thought it might be a better approach than just saying, “People can just suck sometimes”. Just like I suck sometimes.
I make stupid comments too. Trust me. Nobody’s perfect, me included. Duh.
The other main reason I was so upset is because I am slowly going crazy. Not really, but it sure feels like it. I will put a disclaimer before I continue: it’s my own fault that I’m pregnant (well, Matthew’s too), and I’m not complaining (well, maybe a little), but mostly explaining the hormonal fog I am living in.
In my experience, pregnancy hormones are like PMS hormones on speed. Or maybe crack. I’ve never done either, but from what I’ve seen on TV, they make everything a bit more amplified. Such is the roller coaster that I’ve been riding lately. Pray for Matthew, because he’s been dragged onto this ride too. Poor guy.
One minute I feel like there’s a heavy cloud around my head, and something’s not. quite. right. I can’t put my finger on it for the life of me. Then I’ll watch some lame sappy commercial and burst into tears…or leave a store that is out of newborn sleepers and do the same. Then something will strike me as funny that I laugh harder than I ever do when not pregnant. I can’t breathe, there are tears, and I sometimes even shriek. Or I get that silent laugh that makes me laugh even harder.
I’m not a big PMS person normally. Except for that one day of the month where I am UBER sensitive. Honey will comment that he knows what is coming the next day, to which he doesn’t usually get a very friendly response. The next day I apologize profusely when he is proven right.
These pregnancy hormones are much worse. Add to that the fact that I have one good night of sleep (kind of) followed by one bad night of sleep (up in the middle of the night). The varicose veins are no fun, and my lower back has decided to join the Discomfort Party. My belly just keeps getting bigger, and lower. It also appears that someone has given the baby a big serrated knife and he or she is trying to stab their way through my cervix. Good times, good times.
All of the above is to just let you all in on why I may be more sensitive than usual. I also feel like I’m not as smart as usual. Or witty for that matter. Not that I’m as smart and witty as most of my friends, but I usually feel like I can keep up. Lately…not so much.
It really is all so very much worth it, though. I had my check-up yesterday (perfect!), and we really are getting close to meeting Baby D. I have one more normal check-up on Tuesday. The following Tuesday (the 10th), my doctor will strip my membranes. If that doesn’t get the labour party started, we’ll go in the hospital Wednesday morning. She’ll break my water, and if that doesn’t work by about noon she’ll put me on the drip. That’s 12 days from now, MAX.
There are two other reasons that I know this is all worth it.
Reason #1:
Reason#2:
Sigh.
I just received a very lengthy email from someone who reads my site. I won’t go into great detail, but it was about my last post.
She basically was critiquing my last post from a Christian perspective. I am a Christian too. Love Jesus, believe he came to earth via Mary, died and rose again. No question. And trust me - I’ve researched it.
Here’s a quote:
“We are Christians. What does the general public think of Christians? Words like hypocrite come up. Words like patient, loving, forgiving, understanding, Christ-like do not. Too bad because that is what we should be, correct? If we are to keep a blog online that is available to the entire world, I think we need to be careful how we present ourselves. We should be honest, humble, and most importantly we should share the love of Christ. If we cannot do that I think we should forget about posting.”
So basically, I shouldn’t write about what’s on my heart unless it’s a happy thought.
I would never actually say any of those things in my last post to people, because God loves all of the idiots in the world. Me included.
I was trying to put a humorous spin on what I am subject to on a daily basis. I am tired, I am hormonal (I cried yesterday over the fact that I couldn’t find a “coming home” outfit for Baby D), but most of all I am HUMAN. And it seems that whenever I try to parlay a struggle, I get kicked for not showing only my happy face to the world.
I am sorry if I offended anyone else.
Matthew just told me that this is why he sometimes thinks blogs are stupid. Maybe I’ll just stop posting. Or only post cute happy posts about my cute happy kids. Seems like a good plan right about now.
An Open Letter To People Who Speak Without Thinking
Date: Tuesday September 26, 2006Posted in: Pregnancy
To all of the complete and utter STRANGERS who feel the need to make judgmental comments about my pregnancy/growing family/whatever else you can think of:
It has come to my attention that you are lacking in basic social skills, so I am attempting to help you understand how you are a complete idiot, in the hopes that you can become a better person. I’m nice like that.
First of all, I am a pregnant woman. Since you apparently weren’t paying attention in Biology 11 (or to life in general), pregnancy equals hormones. Many, many hormones. Pregnancy hormones are to PMS hormones what a hurricane is to a mild rain shower. And the hurricane days are the GOOD days. Don’t get me started on the bad days.
Secondly, pregnant women are generally exhausted. Sleep is elusive due to a big belly and loosening joints, and if you have other kids, it just gets compounded.
The sum of those two things equals an especially sensitive woman. Again, that’s on a good day. The bad days are beyond your comprehension.
When you decide to strike up a conversation with any pregnant woman, it would be wise to think about what is about to come spewing out of your mouth. Another lesson that you neglected to learn was, If You Can’t Say Anything Nice, Don’t Say Anything At All. You might want to write that one down and carry it around with you.
I’ll be kind enough to give you some examples of things not to say to a pregnant woman. The list is not an exhaustive one, but should help you on your path to recovery.
“You are going to have your hands full!” (Point to my two boys) “I mean, looks like you already do, but it will only get worse!”
Hmmm…I see that you have no children. So, of course, that would make you an expert in what life with three kids will be like.
“You really shouldn’t drink Diet Coke you know. It’s not good for you.”
Oh of course I know that. I should drop my occasional Diet Coke, because it’s so much worse than those CIGARS you are purchasing. Maybe I’ll start smoking cigars instead.
“So, you don’t know what you’re having? It would have been good to find out, because if you have a boy you’ll be pretty disappointed.”
You are so right. If I have a boy I will weep incessantly for months on end. Whatever will I do? I know. I’ll trade up for a girl.
I hope the examples above helped you. As you can probably tell from the tone of my letter, I’m a little hormonal. And today is a “good” day. Lucky for you it’s not a bad one.
Peace out.
We had a sweet weekend away. The best part about it? It went by so very slowly.
When you have two preschoolers under the age of four (as Karen and I both do), your days look something like this:
Wake up and eat breakfast
Go! Go! Go! Go! STOP!
Make and eat lunch
Go! Go! Go! Go! STOP!
Make and eat dinner
Go! Go! Go! Go! STOP!
Give the kids a bath and put them to bed.
All of the above seems to happen in about an hour. You lay on the couch, exhausted. You really should go to bed, but you need some “alone” time, so you watch TV for a bit before dragging your butt to bed.
It’s a glamorous life, really.
This weekend, however, we were heard saying, “It’s only what time? Awesome.”
The extent of my “running around” was going from the couch to the table, outhouse or the fire. I think I burned about 100 calories all weekend. It was in direct contrast to the vast amount of good food I ate (think - steaks grilled over an open fire, along with potatoes and asparagus…never mind the S’Mores).
I bought Season 2 of “The Office” and brought it along. We only started watching it at the end of last year, so we have some catching up to do. That show makes me laugh out loud, which is a rare thing for a show to do. Kind of dangerous for me to watch with the status of my bladder right now, but so completely worth the risk.
Matthew had some good fishing time. Unfortunately, the ones he caught were too small to keep. That was the story of the day for all of our neighbours, except for the five year old grandson of our closest neighbour. He caught three huge trout, right off of the dock. I should have asked him for a fish as a fee for using our property.
I had a stampin’ good time and made me some cards. Well, not for me, but for others. I also figured out the layout for Baby D’s birth announcement. Once he or she arrives, I’ll add a picture and the deets and mail them off. I figure I should be able to get them done before Baby D starts Kindergarten. I aim high, so as to not disappoint myself.
The boys barely missed us. We had left during Nathan’s nap on Friday. Graham had to be coerced to give me a hug and a kiss, because he was playing Play Doh with Grandma. When Matthew called that night to check in, his Dad said that Nathan didn’t ask for us until bedtime. He was so busy having a wonderful time with Grandma and Grandpa that he didn’t even notice we were gone.
They sure were excited to see us when we got home though. Hugs and kisses for both of us. More for Daddy, but I have come to terms with that one. They love their Daddy. I can’t blame them. I think he’s pretty fantastic too, and I hogged him for the whole weekend.
Daddy roughhoused with them while I made dinner and got the laundry going. We jumped right back into the daily routine, and it felt good. It was great to get away but it’s always even better to come home. There’s nothing like sleeping in your own bed…especially when you’re as big and uncomfortable as I am.
Now to get caught up on my blog roll. It may take awhile, because I need to get going. Things to do…
I had my weekly check-up yesterday. Did the standard routine: pee in a cup, weigh in (gained my requisite pound) and read a magazine while waiting for the doctor.
She comes in, points at my belly, and says, “Wow! You’re really blossoming!”
I lay on the examining table and we listen to Baby D’s heartbeat - a nice happy 148. She feels the baby and tells me it’s nice and high, so still no worries of pre-term labour. She does the beloved Strep B swab, and then pulls out her measuring tape.
In a “normal” pregnancy, your uterus grows 1 cm a week, and that usually corresponds with the number of weeks you are. For example, 34 weeks = 34 cm.
Until last week, I was trucking along, growing one cm per week, which agreed with the number of weeks I was. She measures me, and I grew TWO cm. In ONE week.
She shows me this graph in my chart. I didn’t realize that they plot your growth on one of those curved charts similar to those used for babies. I’m plotting in the 90th percentile. For those that don’t know what that means, it means the baby is REALLY BIG.
She tells me that if I were to go to term, the baby would be at least 11 pounds. At least! ELEVEN POUNDS!!
She then tells me that she will twist any and all arms necessary to make sure we get in early. No kidding. I may have “child bearing” hips, but even they have their limits. My experience with Nathan’s birth was so much easier (as easy as childbirth can get) than the vacuum/forceps/almost C-Section experience I had with Graham. Here’s to another 2-hour labour with 2 pushes to deliver, ala Nathan.
All is well with both Baby and I, and she thought the trip to the cabin was a wonderful idea. As do I. Have a great weekend, everyone!
