I battled an eating disorder from the middle of my junior year in high school through my second year of college. Through an incredible community of people who loved Jesus and me, as well as counseling, the Lord graciously rescued me from that trial a few years ago. Unfortunately, the enemy continues to plant lies in my mind about my body image on a regular basis. This will likely be a struggle I’ll fight for the rest of my life here on earth, but I praise God for providing me with the strength to overcome it through the Holy Spirit. It’s the thorn in my flesh (2 Cor. 12:7-10) that keeps me dependent on Jesus, and I’ve learned to be content with that! Needless to say, when Jordan and I got married, I was pretty afraid of becoming pregnant {at first}, knowing that it would likely be very difficult for me as I gained weight. The Lord was so gracious to me, allowing me to view my entire pregnancy the way it was intended, and truly celebrate the little life growing inside me. I can say with integrity that even though I was watching the number on the scale rise, I enjoyed the entire process and rejoiced over the changes happening in my body. Jordan was a huge positive influence during this time {still is!} as he always affirmed his desire for me as his wife. That continues to be one of my biggest questions these days — Do you still want me? Am I still beautiful to you? I have a hard time trusting his answers, because I don’t yet believe them about myself. I wish that wasn’t the case. It would be really easy for me to post this carefully curated photo that makes my 15 extra pounds look pretty decent and say something inspirational about how mamas are warriors for what our bodies have been through. How every fat roll is worth it because it means we get to hold our sweet babies. How stretch marks are truly beautiful {even though I’m not showing mine}. And how we should love & accept our new selves because they are perfect just the way they are. It’s not easy for me to tell the truth, though. Here’s the ugly, gritty, raw truth. This is my real post-baby body. And I’m not okay with it yet. I don’t love it right now. I’m having a really hard time with the fact that my maternity jeans don’t fit me great anymore so I had to go out and buy regular jeans that were size 12 when I’m used to buying size 2-4. I find it difficult to accept that even though I know I’ll work hard to get back in shape and lose the weight now that I’ve been cleared to work out, my body composition will probably never look the way it used to. My hips are wider; my chest is broader. I’m struggling with the knowledge that I don’t have any idea how to lose weight in a healthy way, without simply starving myself. I look at this body in the mirror and I’m embarrassed by it. I’m ashamed of it. The skeletons in my closet are starting to rattle. I can hear them taunt me with the all-too familiar “You’re not good enough. Your husband is lying to you when he says he thinks you’re sexy. He loved you more when you were tiny.” And you know what, guys? That’s hard. It just is.
I don’t need pity, but I do need prayer. I know the truth of God’s Word. I know that this body is AMAZING for what it has done in the past several months & what it continues to do as it cares for and nourishes our baby girl. I look at her, and I would do it again 10,000 times just to have her. She’s worth it, and I’m learning to love the new me. I’m learning to champion myself, because when the Lord looks at me, he doesn’t see my weight and a purple forest of stretch marks. He sees a daughter that he loves, and he sees a sinner justified by his Son’s blood. He does see beauty. I’m posting this with trembling hands, SCARED TO DEATH to be this vulnerable and reveal these photos to the entire internet world. But you know what? I can, because my body — pre-baby, pregnant, or post-baby — does not define my worth. God defines my worth, and it’s simple: created in His image; very good (Gen. 1:27, 31). So, mama friend, if you find yourself in the same place as me today, wishing you could believe that your body is beautiful and amazing after baby, but you’re just not quite there yet, know that it’s okay. You’re not alone in that, even though it seems like everyone on Instagram has it figured out already. And to my other friends, the ones not dealing with all the postpartum things, I hope you’ll be reminded of where your worth comes from today. You are so valuable and so loved by your Creator, whether you’re a size 2 or a size 12. xoxo.
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“For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” -John 1:16 When I look at my daughter, I see a tangible example of God’s grace. Yet another blessing that I do not deserve; a gift I have done nothing to earn; a rare treasure. Evidence of his grace has marked my life in so many ways, and it was present all throughout Ada’s birth as well. I was pretty open about my desire to have a natural childbirth throughout my pregnancy, so many people have asked my husband or myself how it all turned out. While the short answer is “basically nothing went the way I planned apart from not having a c-section,” I experienced God’s presence in a powerful way, and his grace was over our family the entire time. For that, I am grateful, and I was reminded again how God’s plan is always good. For those of you who are interested, here’s the longer version: On Friday, January 12th, I had been up all night about every 2 hours to use the restroom. I figured I must have been really warm, because I was extremely sweaty to the point of changing my clothes each time I got up, which was out of character for me up until that point in pregnancy. Just before 7am, it dawned on me that what I was thinking was “sweat” this entire time may have actually been me leaking fluid. I knew I needed to call the doctor, but I was also fairly confident that they would ask me to come in, and I hadn’t finished packing the hospital bag!! I peeked in our bedroom and saw a very peacefully sleeping hubby. I didn’t have the heart to wake him yet, so I calmly finished gathering our things into the bags and began asking the Lord to prepare my heart for this day. I know everyone talks about false alarms with your first baby, so my head told me it was just that. In my gut, however, I knew this was it! Planning to have a natural labor, remaining calm was key, because it would likely be a looooong time until true labor started. By 8:15am, a few other funky symptoms of early labor started showing up. I started having some cramping, and I had finished packing. Jordan started to stir, so I gave him a kiss and woke him up by saying, “Are you ready to have a baby today? I think it’s happening.” We called the doctor then, and they said that unfortunately, we couldn’t come in until 10:30am to get checked out because there wouldn’t be a provider there until then. Still completely calm, we ended up at...you guessed it...Chick-fil-A...for breakfast. Yes, not kidding, we literally went inside the restaurant & casually ate CFA while unbeknownst to the both of us, I was in labor. HAHAHA. This was God’s grace #1, because everyone knows chicken minis are the Lord’s food, amen? When we got to the doctor, they checked me and said that basically, I was in early labor and had become effaced. They did not check me for dilation because they didn’t want to risk infection, and sent us home saying that my water hadn’t broken & gave me instructions to wait for contractions to get stronger. Once they reached 1 minute long, 5 minutes apart, and that was consistently happening for 1 hour, I was supposed to call the hospital. God’s grace #2, because in hindsight, I think the doctor was wrong about my fluid level... We got back home somewhere around noon, and it was pretty much business as usual. Fridays are Jordan’s day off, so we hung out, watched a little TV, and tried to relax, but I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Again, because I was trying to prepare myself for natural labor, I downplayed EVERYTHING. I knew this was gonna be a marathon, so I told myself that my “discomfort” couldn’t really be that bad yet. I also wasn’t recognizing my contractions as contractions because they were completely unlike everything I’d ever heard described by anyone. Honestly, this just proves that every woman experiences labor differently. Every ounce of my irritation was focused directly on the center of my lower abdomen. I never had the wave feeling people talk about, or a targeted muscle group tightening up and then relaxing. I just had a stabbing, twisting pain in my pelvic area that lasted for about 30 seconds and then went away. My “discomfort” {I refused to use the word “pain”} intensified gradually the entire afternoon, but because my maybe-maybe-not-contractions weren’t lengthening, we just kinda waited. Around 3:30 that afternoon, I decided I was going to take a warm bath to loosen up a little. While in the tub, I noticed that my stabby episodes were becoming a lot more frequent, so I started timing them. It was also getting much harder to deal with them. It took a lot of effort to concentrate on breathing through them. Sometimes I could talk through it, but other times I couldn’t. I looked at the app on my phone...THREE minutes apart. Consistently. But only lasting 30-45 seconds and of varying intensities. So at this point, I was just epically confused. I didn’t want to be the girl that cried wolf, but I also didn’t want to be the girl that delivered her baby on the side of the road in 30 degree weather, ya know? I phoned a friend who had birthed a human already, and asked for prayer & a little advice. Hubby convinced me to just go ahead and call the hospital to see what they said. I had to leave a message with a nurse who said the doctor would call me back in about 30 minutes. Although it felt frustrating in the moment, it was really God’s grace #3 because it bought us just a little more time... I “relaxed” for a few more minutes and then decided I should get ready while waiting on the doctor to call back, because my gut told me it was almost time to go to the hospital. I came back into the living room to let Jordan know what the deal was, and while standing in front of him, we both witnessed a relatively-small-but-prominent-enough-to-raise-alarm gush of fluid come out of me. Eyes wide and mouths open at each other, “let’s go!” was the immediate consensus. I kid you not, 15 seconds later the doctor called back, 100% confirming we needed to come to the hospital. For some BIZARRE reason, likely related to all the information we’d heard from other people about first time parents getting sent home from the hospital when they think they’re in labor, we weren’t actually convinced that they would admit me, and didn’t call our parents yet!! HAHA. The last thing we wanted to do was get everyone all excited and then have to go back on it. So we just waited... By the time we got to the hospital, I was tip-toeing around the word “pain” and feeling pretty shocked and scared by how much it was unexpectedly hurting. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of a warm up into hard labor, I thought? My body refused to relax, and it was already getting very difficult to find a good position to cope with my “stabbing episodes.” For some crazy reason, when they checked me in triage and informed us that my water had definitely broken and they would be admitting me right away, Jordan and I looked at each other dumbfounded. Sooo, what I take from that is, when your water breaks, it’s not always like a levee giving way all at once, and sometimes it’s not even a constant, long trickle {both of which were the only scenarios described to me beforehand}. It CAN happen little by little, over a period of hours, with a final small burst at the end {or at least, that’s what happened to me!} This is the biggest example of God’s grace to me in our whole story - his protection over Ada during the many hours that my amniotic fluid had been slowly leaking. See, we knew I had a very minor complication in my pregnancy that meant I would need to receive antibiotics throughout labor that would protect Ada from getting sick upon delivery. We also knew that once my water broke, that risk for infection increased. When I was admitted, I had only dilated 1 cm. Because of the complication, the doctors started me on fluids and the medicine right away, and told me that they could give me two hours to see if I progressed on my own. If I didn’t, they would have to start me on pitocin to speed up my labor for Ada’s safety. I was very unhappy about this, as I knew having a natural childbirth on pitocin would be basically impossible. I gave them a little pushback, and they agreed they could give me four hours instead of two...but that was it. The nurses and staff were absolutely amazing though. I really felt like they were on my side and wanted me to succeed. They respected my wishes, but they just wanted to do their job to keep me and Ada safe. We informed our families that the real deal was happening, and got settled into our room. Nurses came in to introduce themselves and ask me the most basic questions, but it was becoming more difficult to concentrate by the minute. I was hurting, BAD, but still trying to be really strong and downplay every contraction. Those four hours were miserable. I mean honestly, it was torture. My sweet husband was the only one who could really see through my facade, and graciously kicked everyone out so I could suffer privately. As awful as it was, I was getting pretty excited! With the amount of pain I was in, I figured I had to be dilating pretty quickly. My guess was that I was around 5-6 cm, and I planned to grit my teeth and push through the last 4 to have my natural birth! So, when the doctor came in to check me and informed us that I was only TWO CM DILATED after the four hours, to say I was devastated is an understatement. We had to start pitocin for Ada’s safety. There really wasn’t another choice. My water had broken, and the risk of infection was too great. I was also trying to figure out how on earth I could survive 8 more cm of dilation with the amount of pain I was already in. I felt so defeated, and asked the doctor if there was something wrong with me. I couldn’t understand why it hurt so badly. She was so caring as she explained what was happening in my body since my water had broken, and how there was no protection anymore. She affirmed that what I was feeling was so much more intensified, and how only 10-15% of women’s water breaks before their labor begins. She was gracious and understanding about my wishes for natural birth, and gave us a moment to think it over, but strongly encouraged that I get the epidural because in her exact words, after the pitocin kicked in, “Honey, that s*** is gonna hurt.” To be honest, I felt like such a failure in that moment. Before, I really trusted that my pain tolerance was high enough, and given the right circumstances, I could handle natural labor. I know it doesn’t matter at all to some people, but it really did to me. And I was disappointed. Thank the Lord for my husband. He was SO supportive, told me how much of a warrior I had already been, spoke truth over me that I wasn’t a failure, and that God has provided modern medicine for times like this. He said it was going to be okay, and he was proud of me. I was SO scared to get the epidural. Honestly, the thought of getting a needle injected into my SPINAL CHORD caused me far more anxiety than the pain of childbirth. I was legit freaking out inside...but again, God’s grace was available for me! I was having a very hard time staying still through contractions at this point, so I prayed like crazy for Christ’s power to remain calm long enough. They placed it on the first try successfully, and I began to feel relief very soon after. Although I felt a little down on myself still, I knew it was the best decision. My body was FINALLY able to relax again, and I slept! Boy, I did not realize how much I would need that sleep. I absolutely hated the fact that I had to get pitocin. God even covered that detail in his grace in that Ada did not react well to it and her heart rate became concerning, so they turned it down to essentially nothing! BUT, because the epidural helped me relax, I went from 2cm to 9cm in three hours! The doctors and nurses were completely shocked when they came in to check me. We couldn’t believe it, but we were SO excited to meet Ada. The final jump to 10cm took less than an hour, and it was time to push! While waiting on the doctor to come back, I started pushing with the nurse. In about 20 minutes, Ada’s head was THERE! Our poor doctor barely got her gloves on in time to catch Ada. Two big pushes, and she was here!!! January 13th at 6:20am. It was the most breathtaking moment, and a surreal evidence of God’s grace - new life, by him and sustained through him alone - just like the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ. And looking at that perfect little girl in my arms, I was blown away by how he would use ME, such a sinful and broken human being, to bring his beautiful creation into this world and allow me the opportunity to care for her as my own in this lifetime, even though she belongs to him. If that’s not grace, I don’t know what is. I didn’t get my dream natural childbirth surrounded by worship music, essential oils, and a peaceful environment, but that doesn’t make my experience any less of a miracle. Instead, the Lord chose to guide me through the fire and show me how he would still be there. It was 100% worth it.
I am SO thankful for our Ada Bee’s life. She has taught us so much already & brought us so much joy. I know she will continue to be a light for so many. Her birth story is not what I had designed, but that’s exactly the point - it’s what our sovereign Lord designed from before the beginning of time. He held us both safely in his grace amidst all of the uncertainty, pain, and altered plans. At the end of the day, what matters is trusting him and his way, for it is undeniably better & more beautiful than anything we can craft in our finite minds. The star of the show has arrived, friends!! The inspiration behind the blog decided to join our world on Saturday morning, January 13, 2018. Born at 6:20am, she weighed in at a whopping 6lb 2.8oz, and was 19.5 inches long. She is perfect and lovely in every way, and her daddy and I are completely obsessed with her. Watching God bring new life into the world and knowing that He allowed you to play a role in that is a marvelous experience. My labor & delivery did not go the way I had expected or planned, yet He remained faithful. My "birth motto" per se was simply "Great is Thy faithfulness." Probably my all-time favorite hymn, the lyrics replayed in my mind continuously during the days leading up to Ada's birth. These first five days of motherhood have been amazing, beautiful, and yes - difficult. Our journey with this sweet little human we've been entrusted with is just beginning, and I'm confident that it will our most extraordinary adventure yet. I love you, Ada Bee. And thank you, Jesus! <3 Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with Thee Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be. Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness! Morning by morning new mercies I see All I have needed Thy hand hath provided Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me! Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth, Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide; Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow, Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside! All white everything, natural elements, and a hint of girly flair was my vision for our sweet babe's nursery. Jordan and I had so much fun putting it together for her! All of our {okay, mainly his} hard work has finally paid off, and now we're just eagerly anticipating our little bee to get in there & mess it all up! (; One of the parts of Ada's nursery that I love so much is how many personal touches there are woven throughout. For example, her dresser belonged to my Pop-Pop {Ada's great grandfather!} and was refinished by her daddy, so that's extremely special. We found the antique trunk at the building which now holds our church's new multi-site campus, and rescued it from a trip to the landfill. The canvas with Ada's name on it was gifted to us by a dear friend and co-worker, who has prayed for us from the very beginning of our journey with this little girl {love you s'much, Tay!!}. The chair and ottoman was a total God thing! I never realized how daggum expensive those nursery gliders or recliners are. Like...anywhere from $300-$600+ expensive. We were storing up our gift cards and waiting for Black Friday deals to come around, and then while visiting a Goodwill in Asheville the weekend before Thanksgiving, stumbled upon this bad boy. It was in PERFECT condition {just needed a little shampoo & love!}, and so so comfy! When I saw the $49 price tag for both the chair AND ottoman with hidden storage, I nearly started to cry. I'm completely overwhelmed by the Lord's continual provision for us during this pregnancy! Is anyone else a sucker for details, or is that just me?! Like this adorable door-hanger given to us by Ada's uncle Brent & aunt Bethany, the sweet woodland creatures mobile, succulents that we planted in white teacups, and the monogrammed "A" from my talented friends over at Shiloh Collection {go buy their things!}. Ahh, I feel like I could go on and on about every little inch of this precious room. There are several other meaningful pieces & gifts from family that I didn't mention, and the stories of how it has all come together are endless! Oh, do I love this little space. It might just be my new favorite room in the house! Which I guess is a good thing...cuz I'm about to be spending a lot of time in there. Jesus, I pray that you would bless this nursery with your continual presence. Let it be a room full of peace and security in you, even amidst difficult nursing sessions, chaotic periods of seemingly endless crying, messy blowouts at the most inconvenient times possible, and all the other unpredictable moments of mommyhood. I ask that you place angels at every corner, in front of both windows, the door, and beside the crib where she will sleep, protecting our baby girl at all times. As worship music and lullabies play over her, may your Spirit already begin wooing her heart to yours before she even recognizes the depth of her sin and need for you. Draw her to yourself, Lord, that at an early age she would accept the gracious gift of your salvation, and that with her life she would serve you wholly. Thank you for the joy she has already brought into our days, and I pray that she would be a beaming reflection of your light in this dark and broken world. We love you, Jesus. Use us, imperfect parents as we are, to raise Ada in a way that honors you. And use her life to glorify yourself, for that is the entire purpose of our existence. Thank you for this undeserved gift. Lead us as we begin this journey. In Jesus' holy name, Amen. New Year’s Eve has always been one of my favorite nights of the year. Call me a slave to the cliche, but there’s something about the clean slate of a new calendar year {new, cute planners, helllloooo} and the inherent fresh start that always makes me feel so inspired!
Even though I love NYE, I’ve never been a huge “resolutions” girl. I just don’t really believe in them. For me, they’re not healthy, because resolutions kind of have a pass or fail verdict attached to them. Let’s be honest, most of the time, it’s failure. Instead, I’m big on reflections. With each new year, I love to reflect on what worked, what didn’t work, and how I want to G R O W in the next season. Striving for growth isn’t only healthy, but biblical! We are commanded all throughout Scripture to grow in grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, for His glory (2 Peter 3:18). Jesus himself was also portrayed as an example of continual growth in Luke 2:52; “And Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man.” Over the past few years, the idea of a “Word for the Year” has become popular. I’m a massive fan of this idea, but I’ve never participated in it, simply because I've never felt the Lord speak to me specifically about it! I didn’t just want to pick a random inspirational word and then try to craft some uber-spiritual reasoning behind it. If I was going to have a word for the year, I wanted it to be genuine. All of that being said, this is the FIRST year I’ve heard specifically from the Lord about my “word,” and I’m really pumped about it! STEADY. steady (adjective): direct or sure in movement; firm in position; showing little variation or fluctuation; not easily disturbed or upset; constant in feeling, principle, purpose, or attachment synonyms: unfaltering, fixed, stable, dependable The Lord gave me the word “steady” after reflecting on Jeremiah 17:7-8 for the past several months, which declares, “Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD. He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit.” These verses encapsulate my #1 goal for motherhood: trusting the Lord. Simple concept, right? You’d think it’d be pretty easy to execute. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself over the past few years after stepping into adulthood, it’s how little I truly trust the Lord on a consistent basis. So often, I am just flat out terrible at it. I want to control everything in my life, freak out over the smallest hiccups, and let fear & anxiety rule me far too often…each of which are signs that I’m not truly trusting God, but instead myself, my abilities, my circumstances, or my people. Walking into motherhood, that’s a MASSIVE red flag of sin that shows up on my radar. When I think about 20+ years from now and how I want my adult children to remember me, I desire for one of the first thoughts to pop into their minds to be: “No matter what happened, we always knew that mom trusted God. Even when things were hard or didn’t make sense, mom reminded us that God was good, His character could be trusted, and to place our hope in His sovereignty. We knew she really believed it, because she was steady in her faith and her actions proved her vigilant in her pursuit of Him, always.” If my children remember some version of that about me, then I will know that I’ve done my job exemplifying a life that honors Christ to them. That’s what I want my legacy to be to them. So, how do I get there? Well, I guess I ought to start by uprooting the sin of distrust in my heart through the power of the Holy Spirit! I guess I better strive to be like the tree described in Jeremiah - rooted in the water of life that the Word of God gives, clinging to it for nourishment & refreshment; unafraid of heated circumstances or dry seasons in my life, because I’ll have my trust in the Lord. I’ll continue to bear good fruits of the Spirit, and remain fresh because Christ will be my all. And whew, as a new mom, won’t that be KEY? If there’s any time in one’s life where things probably feel unsteady, overly emotional, confusing, frustrating, and easily upsetting, I imagine it’s got to be when you become a parent for the first time. So, I’m committing to the Lord that I’ll grow in 2018 by remaining steady. This won’t be possible without Him, of course. It goes against all natural parts of my flesh. But by His power, and for His glory, I believe He will help me to remain a steady mom, even as I embrace the chaos and the unknown of bringing a little one into this messy world. Cheers to 2018, friends! I’d love to hear YOUR “words” or reflections for growth in the Lord this year. May we seek to know and love Christ more every day. I’ve been sitting here with an open laptop for about 40 minutes now, just thinking and thinking. My husband is sitting in his favorite chair across the room from me, working on a video for church, and I’m propped up on the couch with a steaming cup of hot water and honey, begging my throat to stop punishing me for simply breathing and swallowing. I’ve got an entire list of “blog ideas” on a brainstorming note, and I’d picked one out to write about this week, but something just doesn’t feel right about it now. None of the other ideas feel quite right either. But, since I’ve committed to post each week, I just thought I’d start typing and see what comes together by the time I’m done rambling. I’ve been sick for close to two weeks now. It’s just a cold (I think/hope?) but if you’ve ever been pregnant and sick, you know how it’s just extra miserable. I’ve also avoided taking any medicine for the past eight months, and have just been letting my germs and aches work themselves out. But, I finally went to the doctor yesterday, and he assured me that Mucinex wasn’t going to hurt our baby, and that at this point, I really just need to try and knock this thing before it gets any worse and turns into something that could be dangerous. SO, I bit the bullet and starting taking some meds. I’m trying to rest the best that I can and praying that I’ll be better soon. Needless to say, I’m exhausted. I just kinda feel icky and useless, and I’ve obviously got serious writer’s block. Or my brain just isn’t working well enough for me to put together coherent, inspiring thoughts for the readers out there. I’ve learned that I’m not a very good “rester.” Even when I’m home all day during the week, I can’t just lay down all day without feeling incredibly guilty and lazy. Which kinda stinks…because if there was any time in one’s life where they should get a free pass to be 100% lazy, you’d think it would be when you’re sick and eight months pregnant. I'll try to start doing better this upcoming week. This has easily been the slowest week of my pregnancy yet. Everyone says that the last two months crawl by, and I’m definitely feeling that now. I’m uncomfortable, constantly stumbling all over the place as I try to get used to my new & ever-growing body, have to go to the bathroom literally every 30 minutes, and obviously, I’m sick right now. It’s not the most fun combo, but it’s still so insanely special and I’m loving every moment of this season - or at least trying to soak it all in. I can’t stop thinking about our baby girl. I’m constantly dreaming about what she will look like, what her temperament will be, and what everyday life is going to be like with her here. I wonder about how our pups will react to her, and picture my husband holding her & doting over her. I imagine taking walks with her and the dogs at the park near our house, establishing new routines, and how much pure light she is going to bring into our lives. I anticipate the sleep deprivation, the untimely blowout diapers that will make me late for SOMETHING, the frustration when I can’t get her to stop crying, and the struggle to accept my postpartum body. And I’m pumped for ALL of it. Ada Bee is so very loved. I feel like my heart might just explode with desire to have her in my arms. I absolutely cannot wait to be a mommy. The closer we get to her arrival, the more confident I become that God has designed MY heart to be just that - a mom. It’s the only job I feel genuinely passionate about or called to. I know I won’t ever be a perfect parent, but I sure will love that little baby & desire to give her my best effort every single day. And I will love the adventure ahead.
I guess while I’m sitting here babbling, the Lord is reminding me to see His glory in the ordinary. Maybe I don’t have a well planned, well constructed, mega encouraging or challenging message to post this week. Maybe I’m just Ashley…a little run-down, scatter-brained version of myself at that. And maybe that’s okay, because when you commit to share your life and journey with others, there’s some moments that feel dull. Being sick and dreaming out loud about my baby as she dances around in my tummy (very visibly, might I add…like seriously she might bust out any sec) is super ordinary. Yet, in the normality of it all, God’s glory is evident. To know Him and to love Him leads to seeing His fingerprints all over your life. Jesus said, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). Life is glorious because of Christ’s glory alone. He gives ordinary moments extraordinary purpose. I pray you’ll notice them this week. It started when I was just over four months along, and I had begun noticing myself start to show a little baby bump. I was SO excited. I finally had to make the move to maternity jeans and was thinking I didn't look like I'd simply eaten one too many pints of Ben & Jerry's anymore... Then I went to the library. While browsing the parenting section, I struck up a simple conversation with a mom who was simultaneously watching her toddler look at a picture book & changing her 8-month-old's diaper. Full of all the baby excitement, I proudly told her that I was 17 weeks along myself, expecting to be met with equal excitement. Instead, I was met with a look one would anticipate if I'd suddenly grown an extra head while speaking, and "You ARE?! Are you sure?" First off, lady, I've been throwing up every day for literally 3 months straight now. I've seen my baby cartwheeling around on a sonogram and heard her heartbeat, so, YES, I'M SURE. Then, polite as can be, she added the dagger: "You look really small. Make sure you're taking care of yourself, sweetie." OH, THANKS. Because what every first time mom really needs to hear is that she's probably not taking good enough care of her baby. SO HELPFUL. I wish I could say that's where it ended, but unfortunately, the overwhelming remark I have received about my appearance during my pregnancy is "you look so small!" I've heard it from just about EVERY stranger I meet in public that asks how far along I am, and even well-meaning church people. You might be sitting there rolling your eyes at this point, wondering how on earth I could possibly be unnerved by a comment that most women (myself included under normal circumstances) practically beg to hear at any moment of the day. You poor thing, Ashley, you're skinny, woe unto you. Get over yourself. Before you shut down and label me #salty, hear my heart. Insecurity has always been a struggle in my life. And specifically, concerning my body image, it's been a battle I've had to repeatedly take to the foot of the Cross for my entire young adult life. My past includes anorexia, and some of my greatest concerns during counseling through that season were 1) Will I be able to get pregnant? and 2) How on earth will I handle it when I am and start gaining weight? Wanna know something else that makes this comment tough on me? I am measuring small. There, I said it. I've been consistently measuring smaller than is "normal" for my pregnancy. I can't tell you the amount of times I've worried over that, even though my doctor has assured me at every appointment that it's FINE & she's not concerned about our baby. I'm gaining weight, and Ada is growing steadily, but for whatever reason, this is how my body is carrying her. Insecurity is real for me. Insecurity in pregnancy can look different for everyone, but it is real for ALL women who have ever experienced it, and I'd venture to say amplified once you throw in the hormone circus going on in your body. Here's the pro tip: The ONLY thing you should ever say to a pregnant lady about her appearance is this - "Girl, you look AMAZING!" Seriously. Because you know what, she does look amazing. No matter how she's carrying. No matter if she's muscular, petite, curvy and toned, tall and lean, or a little swollen and rocking some cankles. She's amazing because she is growing a tiny human, and that's a lot of stinking work on her body! Don't tell her she looks like she's about to pop, or that she hardly looks pregnant, or really anything at all related to her size, even if you mean it as a genuine compliment. You don't know what her journey has been like, and even though you mean well, you don't know how it's going to affect her. Just support that cute lil' momma-to-be & let her know she is doing a killer job, and that she looks stunning doing it! For the record, I honestly believe that's what Jesus wants from us, too. "Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen." {Ephesians 4:29} This is such a simple guidance in wisdom with our speech, but how often do we pay close attention to it? I know I fail at this, often. And did you know that the context of this verse is set in a passage that talks about unity and maturity in the body of Christ, along with further instructions for Christian living?! Pretty cool stuff, eh? Let's encourage each other to do better at lifting others up this week, with or without baby bumps. Oh, and if you're reading this & realize you're one of the sweet folks who has made a similar comment to me over the past few months, it's really okay. I'm not that #salty about it {anymore} (; One of my biggest pet peeves is when people hyper-spiritualize things. It just really, really gets under my skin. So I want to start off by saying that through this post, I'm really not trying to hyper-spiritualize something as simple, normal, and routine as an OB tour in the hospital for a first-time mom. That being said, I love how it seems like in my life, every time I need to hear a reminder from the Lord, He shows up in the most ordinary things - like our hospital tour this morning.
To be honest, I've had a tough week. Some unexpected physical & emotional hurts came into my life, and I've just felt kinda "bleh." That's part of the reason this post is not on schedule...whoops! So, today, I really needed the reminder of this all-important biblical truth that's been written on my heart in years past: My Lord is El Roi - the God who sees me. To back it up for a sec, let me explain my nerves leading up to our hospital tour. I have made the personal decision that I would love to attempt a completely, 100% natural childbirth. I say attempt, because I'm not ignorant enough to declare with certainty that I won't end up deciding I want some pain medication or an epidural. But, for my own reasons, natural is the way I desire it to turn out. {Enough about that...not trying to have a debate about something I haven't even personally experienced yet}. My hubbs has been super supportive about this plan, which will be huge if I'm gonna be successful in it. However, we still felt most comfortable with a hospital birth. I've done tons of research, tried to educate myself on all the things, and as a result have been quite nervous about how OUR hospital would view & support my birth wishes. I've heard the scary statistics about the rate of hospital interventions, etc., etc., and I had about 20 million questions lined up to ask whatever poor human being got stuck with us on our tour. I've been praying about all this stuff - over my questions, over my desires, over God's perfect plan for my labor & delivery, over the hospital, over the doctors and nurses we have yet to meet, and yes, while sitting in the waiting room this morning, I begged God to give us a kind, understanding, helpful tour guide. "Ed from Guest Services," you're a rock star, my friend. This sweet man was so patient, loving, and thorough with this anxious first time mommy-to-be, joked around with & involved my husband, making us feel very much like we mattered to him and the rest of the staff. God sees me. Ed answered all of our {extremely specific, whoops!} questions, didn't rush us once, and went above and beyond to even pass along some extra tips & tricks to us. I felt God show up moment by moment, as my checklist of concerns faded away one after the other. Every prayer was answered, and every desire of my heart for the day Ada is born will be a possibility according to the hospital's policies! And of course, because God not only sees us & provides for us, but He is also good, I left the hospital feeling empowered and just a little bit more ready to do this thing {by "this thing" I mean BIRTH A HUMAN GUYS IT'S FINE LOL I AM SO CALM}. So seriously, the life application is this: Wherever you're at, friend, and whatever you're going through this week, don't forget that God sees you. Don't forget that He truly, deeply loves you, and that He wants to know you more. He wants you to invite Him into the big things, yeah, but He equally cares about the details, because He cares about you. And He sees. He sees you. I pray this reminder will be a breath of peace in your life today. |
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Ashley Setterlind: Jesus lover, wife, new mama to a baby girl. Archives
October 2018
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