More than Rubies

Evangeline “Bearer of Good News”

on by in Family, Uncategorized

Evangeline’s birth story begins long before labor did, that’s for sure.  It’s an emotional and spiritual story for me to tell and I’m not even sure how to do it or where to start.  But just know, this is more than a birth story.  {Disclaimer: this story is filled with all the details – especially spiritually and biologically – so if you don’t want to hear about Jesus and my cervix, please move right along}

When we got our positive pregnancy test in September of last year, I was elated!  With my other pregnancies, having a person growing in my womb has brought me so much peace and so much connection with my Creator.  As you probably know, we had just moved to Texas and bought our first house and we had gone through a very trying time, and I thought this pregnancy was a reminder that God had not forgotten us and our life was continuing as planned.  As you also probably know, I have experienced postpartum depression and anxiety after some of the kids. But this pregnancy would be the first time I experienced depression during a pregnancy.  

The Birth Plan

Since our homebirth experience with Ben was so wonderful, we had intended to go that route again.  At 6 weeks, I began interviewing midwives and learned very quickly that I didn’t have a lot of options unless I wanted to drive into downtown Austin for prenatal appointments (which is about 45 minutes).  Most of the interviews went well but for some reason I found myself defensive and in tears during them.  I had exhausted my list, and I couldn’t make a decision.  For 6 more weeks, I sat and thought and could not have peace, unlike choosing our previous midwife (we walked out of her office saying “she’s the one”).  Scott thought maybe the unrest was due to our house.  We have had major buyer’s remorse since our purchase and we’ve had no problem finding things we hated about it.  We also were slowly purchasing furniture and making the home ours, but had yet to do our bedroom, so the thought of giving birth on my mattress on the floor, in a place where I wasn’t at peace, wasn’t appealing to me.   I decided that I would just find an OB that our insurance covered and start my prenatal care and then I would transfer once I came to a decision.  

I Googled “best OB for natural birth in Austin area” and the tremendous response was this practice run by an OB but also offering midwifery care.  I quickly discovered that they were very natural birth minded, in fact, so much that they had their own free-standing birth center right across the street from one of the best natural birth friendly hospitals in the area (surprisingly Austin-area hospitals haven’t quite jumped on the “crunchy” bandwagon that Austin boasts).  We also found out that our insurance covered this birth center, which would save us thousands of dollars versus paying cash for a home birth.  After much deliberation, we decided that having a birth center birth was worth the savings, and the peace of mind, that we weren’t having with the home birth plan.  We convinced the kids that they would still be able to attend, and then moved on with that plan.  

I went about prenatal care with a very “let’s just get these appointments over with” attitude since the practice was run similar to an OB office (short visits in a doctor’s office), versus a home birth midwife (long personal visits in a comfortable environment).  Thankfully, the office was very accepting of all of my preferences and I never had to argue for the freedom to make my own choices about prenatal care.  Everything was going great, pregnancy wise, but I was still feeling a little depression and on top of it still coming to terms with our choice to not have a home birth.  


I want to be sure to add this next part in, because I had someone tell me when I shared “Oh I’m glad to hear you feel like that sometimes, because it seems like you can handle anything!”  So I want to be bold and honest about my struggles so that you can see that although it may seem like I walk through the fire faithfully, there’s a fair amount of push back in my attitude with God sometimes.  I was experiencing some major birth anxiety.  My births are not easy, and thinking back on them sometimes can be emotionally exhausting.  I wondered why I was doing this again. I started hearing all the lies that society (and people) have told me about having a large family.  “It’s too hard.  Why can’t I be content with the 3 children I have?  I must be crazy.  How can I do it?” I started regretting this pregnancy. Then of course what followed was immense guilt that I was not anything but blessed by this child forming inside of me.  I didn’t want to be pregnant; I didn’t want to give birth; I was just done.  I contacted a friend of mine who I knew had hard home birth labors and who also struggled with anxiety over it at times.  She encouraged me to go to the Lord with it, so I did.  

I prayed and I wrote down scriptures to post to bring me peace.  Scott and I read Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth together and we talked about how he could support me.  I started to let go of my fears and get excited about the birth and what a special day it would be for our family.  

Change of Plans

Around 28 weeks, I began to feel like something was off about the pregnancy.  I couldn’t put my finger on it but I just knew something wasn’t right.  I wondered if it was her position, as she felt much different than the other three.  I mentioned it to a midwife at my next appointment but she assured me everything felt normal.  My next visit, the midwife told me that she didn’t think she was feeling a head down position and we did a quick ultrasound and sure enough, I had a head in my rib cage.  The midwife assured me that this was very normal in a 4th pregnancy and that she was absolutely sure the baby would flip by my next appointment, which would be 36 weeks.  She gave me some Spinning Babies techniques to facilitate room for her to flip.  I went home and laid upside down over an ironing board several times a day.  I made sure to sit in my “optimal fetal positioning” spots and I tried ice packs and chiropractic and essential oils and lights and singing and all the things.  There was just a feeling in my gut though, that she would not flip.

Doing a Spinning Babies position – ironing board on the couch 

At my 36 week appointment, sure enough, she was still head up.  The birth center would not facilitate a breech delivery and no OBs at the practice would do one in the hospital, so my choices were a c-section, or look all over immediately for a care provider that would.  After research and prayer, Scott and I decided that we would choose a c-section.  I mourned my birth center delivery and I tried to let go of my birth plan.  I made peace with my c-section.  Everyone I told had a similar reactions “Oh NO!” “I’ll pray she flips!”  and my heart was thinking “It’s cool guys, this is her story.”  I have never in my 20 years of following God experienced this peace that surpasses understanding, this overwhelming spiritual comfort.  

They told me that if she was still breech at my 37 week visit they would schedule me for an external cephalic version, which means they would manually try to flip baby by pushing her around on top of my uterus.  It’s a risky procedure and it’s not comfortable at all, and it is only successful about 40% of the time, so I struggled with whether or not I wanted to try it or just be okay with the c-section.  Because of the spiritual peace I felt, I decided that I would go into the version expecting it wouldn’t work but just giving it a shot any way (after having gone through it and seeing the bill for it, I wish I had just gone with my gut and skipped it).  After 1 hour of trying to move her, the OB finally said that she wasn’t going to flip and that her butt was firmly stuck in my pelvis.  We scheduled a c-section for May 3rd.  

Attempting the External Version {we’re laughing but it wasn’t as fun as it looks}

What I felt in my heart had come to pass and I was at peace with it.  I was preparing for a c-section birth.  We explained it to the kids, who were of course expecting to be at the birth {Matthew said “Um, if you have to have the surgery, can I have a babysitter because I do not want to see that!”}.  We bought supplies for a long hospital stay, we researched ways to make the c-section as natural and gentle as possible, we picked a playlist that would allow anyone in the OR to hear our admiration for our Lord even in this situation that we did not choose.  

Another change of plans

One Sunday evening, after having a very lazy day, the whole family was in bed doing laundry and watching a movie.  I suddenly felt something different and I told Scott “Oh my gosh! I think I can feel her butt! Feel this… a head here and a butt here… right?!” He felt and agreed with me.  I did some forward leaning inversions and then I couldn’t feel her any more.

Doing a forward leaning inversion to give her room to flip 

I went to sleep and when I woke up I said “I can’t feel her head in my ribs any more… I don’t know what that means, I just know it’s different than it was”.  I honestly was torn.  It seemed like this is what I should want, but it wasn’t.  I immediately went to back to feeling scared of doing the natural labor again.  At my 38 week visit they confirmed she was in fact head down.  Everyone kept saying “This is great news!”  and “Praise the Lord” and “we’re so happy she flipped” and all I could think was “Good for you, but you’re not the one who has to go through the labor…” I felt abandoned by God and I was so confused about how He could give me so much peace and then change the plan again in an instant.  I cried for days.  I went to Him in prayer and I had a vision of Him and I, we were standing face to face, sort of floating, but His hands were on my face and mine on His and there was blurriness all over but my eyes were locked on His.  I said “Lord, this peace! Why did you take it from me?”  He said “I didn’t look away, you did.”  

It immediately reminded me of Peter walking on water and I went to read that scripture and I realized that I had focused more on the circumstance for peace and when it changed, I moved my eyes off of Jesus.  After that, I’ll admit it wasn’t easy but I tried, oh how I tried, to keep my mind focused on the Word and the Truth and not allow fear to make me sink again.  Unfortunately, it got more difficult.  

Trials

I started to get a round ligament pain, which was excruciating.  Sometimes it just sort of burned a bit, sometimes it felt like a *snap* in my groin and I was brought to screaming out in pain.  I tried everything I could to ease the pain but nothing worked.  I had to sit around with an ice pack on my crotch every day.  I could barely move.  I cried out to God “Why are you giving me this to bear too?!”  

In the midst of all this, they told me that I was GBS positive (a normal bacteria that women sometimes carry in their vaginal tract but would require IV antibiotics at birth to avoid the risk of spreading it to baby… it’s a very small risk, but a risk nonetheless).  This was an inconvenience at best because I would have to be sure to get to the birth center at least 4 hours before I gave birth.  I also prefer not to take antibiotics (I haven’t had them since my gallbladder surgery 6 years ago and my kids never have).  If I declined the antibiotics, I would not be allowed to have the birth center birth and would have a mandatory 48 hour stay in the hospital.  

The next thing was the kids all got sick.  They woke up with red, gooey eyes and I thought for sure we had a pinkeye outbreak.  The stress of thinking about what would happen if I went into labor with kids who had pinkeye made me a crazy person.  I yelled at them to take the supplements I had.  I yelled that they wouldn’t be able to see her born.  I cried and cried at how much I did not want to do this any more.  Again, the fear and lies of having 4 small children took over and I believed the world instead of the Word and I was crippled by anxiety and fear.  I went to everyone of my appointments hoping they would say she flipped again and I could have my c-section but alas she was head down.  

May 3rd came, and I cried and cried.  I wanted the c-section.  I wanted to be done with this.  

Then I got sick.  I woke up unable to swallow and I spent two days in bed feeling awful.  I prayed I wouldn’t go into labor but at this point I was convinced God was going to make this as hard on me as possible.  I flip flopped between anger and peace, trusting and doubting.  I was so angry.

41 Weeks

Waiting for Labor to Start

At 41 weeks, they started talking about my options if I went to 42 weeks.  42 weeks is considered post term, so I become “high risk”, and I wouldn’t be able to deliver at the birth center.

Of course, there are a million and one old wives tales about what might trigger labor, but after having 3 babies and being knowledgeable in how birth and bodies work, I knew that none of them are sure fire things, and a lot of them are uncomfortable and stressful.  Because I was GBS positive they wouldn’t attempt anything that would spread infection, like membrane sweeps or breaking my water (which I was thankful for and would have declined any way).  They gave me the options of having an outpatient foley bulb catheter (a balloon that goes into the cervix and fills up with saline to hopefully manually dilate the cervix to 3 cm) or castor oil (which basically gives you diarrhea hoping that stimulates the uterus to contract).  Both have about a 50/50 chance of working.  {And yes, we had sex and yes we tried nipple stimulation for oxytocin; but,  in order for those things to be effective, they have to be pretty constant, and as fun as that might sound, it’s really not… especially knowing that when you’re done a tiny person is going to come out, wanting to suck on them} 


Walked around IKEA at 41w 3d; lots of contractions, no baby


I decided to try acupuncture.  I had one session and they told me I needed to come back twice a day for it to work quickly and effectively.  While I was sitting in the chair with 100 needles sticking out of my body, I prayed and I kinda felt this nagging question like “are you really trusting God by trying to control this or can you just let go and let God decide?”  At that point, I decided that God was sovereign over my body and over human deadlines.  He knew that if I didn’t go into labor by Monday than I would have an induction.  And He also knew that if He had to use pitocin and policies to get me to surrender to Him, He would.  

I came home from that week’s appointment and told Scott I wanted to rest. I had a lot of ligament pain from being out and about and I had cried a bit at the appointment so I was exhausted.  I was still coughing from the cold and every time I coughed I either peed my pants a little or pulled my ligament some more.  I went straight to bed and laid down and suddenly had excruciating tooth pain.  I did some at home treatments and fell asleep.  First thing in the morning, I went to a dentist and he told me I needed a root canal.  He asked if I could schedule it for that week and I said no, because I would be giving birth.  So I left paying $45 co pay for nothing and praying God would keep that pain at bay until after she was born.  

Selfie I sent Scott from the dentist chair “Well… I need a root canal. Awesome.” 

At my 41-week-3-day appointment I declined their out-of-hospital induction attempts.  I told Scott I wanted to spend the weekend having fun, being at peace, and trusting God, not trying a million uncomfortable things and stressing out. I was in enough pain I didn’t want to be having false labor on top of it.  I told him to stop asking me if I felt contractions, I’d tell him if I was in labor.  We didn’t do much with all the pain I was in, but we made sure to play a lot and spend family time together.  We had spent the last few weeks trying to get out of the house, find things to do and make sure the kids weren’t getting too stressed out by all the changing of plans.  Matthew was pretty bummed out that the birth center birth was off the table and although he was allowed to come to the hospital he chose not to because he said all the cords and stuff would scare him.  

The Last Supper…as a family of 5
We were celebrating, although the kids were sad it meant No to the birth center

The Induction

Monday morning, May 22nd, I woke up 42 weeks pregnant, and knew I would be receiving a call soon to set up an induction plan.  I showered and repacked all the bags.  I set out stuff for the baby sitter.  My phone rang and it was Michelle, the midwife on duty.  She asked me to meet her at 11am and she would check my cervix and decide what to do.  Scott and I made a list of specific prayers we wanted God to answer.  For my cervix to be dilated and effaced quite a bit.  For this induction to be quick, hopefully under 12 hours.  For the kids to do okay sleeping without us.  That if I did still need a c-section for her position, that we would find out sooner than later.  

Just waiting… and waiting…

We got to the hospital and my cervix was “1, maybe 2 cm and still thick”.  I actually yelled “Noooo!”  First prayer, unanswered.  She explained my options and all I wanted to do was go home and hope this would all just go away.  The disappointment was defeating.  I chose to have Cervadil, which is a cervical softener that is inserted vaginally and stays in for 12 hours.  I honestly sort of misunderstood at the time and thought it was “maximum” 12 hours and that it was possible to be shorter, but that was not the case.  They would come back and check me in 12 hours.  In the meantime, I could lay there and do nothing.  I cried. For hours.  I cried to Scott, I cried to the nurse. I cried to the midwife.  I didn’t want to wait 12 hours. I had kids at home.  I didn’t want to do this.  I wanted the c-section.  She told me if I had the c-section I couldn’t go home.  I said no, but Scott could.  Then I would know they’re okay.  And they could come here to visit.  And this would be OVER. I was done.  

Scott tried, bless his heart, but I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to pray.  I didn’t want to play cards.  I didn’t want to listen to music or watch TV. The babysitter told us that Ben didn’t nap and I was worried about bed time as they have never spent the night without us before.   At 6pm, Scott decided to go home and check on the kids and get them to bed okay.  I was having some contractions, which is normal when they’re messing with your cervix, so while I was alone I tried to focus on the contractions. I told my body to dilate.  I asked her to come down.  I promised her I would be a good mom, even though everything I’d thought over the past months had said the opposite.  I apologized for not being excited about her.  I begged God to make my contractions to be effective. I prayed for labor to start. I prayed for it to be over.  

Scott came back to the hospital at 11pm, and at 12:30am the midwife came back in to do the 12 hour check.  She checked me and said “Great! 3 cm.”  I wanted to cry again but I didn’t even have the strength.  She told me that my cervix was softened and 50% effaced and that was exactly what we wanted.  She said that they would start the Pitocin now, very low, trying to mimic the body’s natural labor course.  They would come in every 20-30 min and see how my contractions were and increase the Pitocin by 1 until my contractions became regular.  She offered me a sleeping pill and told me it was best if I got some rest.  I took the sleeping pill and at 1am they started the Pitocin (and the antibiotics for my GBS).  

The Birth Part

I was having contractions in my sleep but I just assumed it was irregular, early labor stuff so I just kept tossing and turning.  At 2am, I woke up and the contractions were intense.  They didn’t seem regular, they seemed kind of erratic and I assumed it was just intense because of the Pitocin.  I took a few contractions still in bed and noticed that the Pitocin was at a 4.  I know that 4 is a very very low amount of Pitocin and I knew that this was just the beginning.  I had decided earlier that I wanted to try to skip the epidural (I don’t like giving birth when I can’t feel what I’m doing) but if I got too tired I would have the epidural without guilt.  I asked Scott to help me to go the bathroom.  I had a couple of contractions on the toilet (my favorite place to labor, hurts like hell but really brings the baby down without a lot of physical effort on my part).  Since I knew this was early labor, I tried hard to keep my mind under control and focus on the purpose of the contractions and not the intensity.  I kept my face relaxed.  I groaned low and open.  I thought about her moving down.  

The nurse must have noticed I was off the fetal monitor and came in.  She heard me having contractions in the bathroom and asked if I wanted her to call the midwife.  I said yes because I was planning to hear 4cm and request an epidural.  She asked if I was feeling pressure and I said yes.  

I got off the toilet and asked Scott to bring me my ball.  As I was getting on my ball, my hospital gown and the fetal monitor cords were getting all tangled and I was getting frustrated with it all so I ripped the gown off and continued to labor in just my bra.  I tried to sit on the ball but it hurt too bad to sit so I tried one leaning over Scott.  I remember say “No, that’s no good” and I fell to my knees and leaned over the bed.  I had a big contraction and peed all over the floor, which was a huge mess because it’s linoleum.  I apologized and had another contraction.  More pee.  The nurse asked if it was my water, I said I didn’t think so.  I had another contraction and then looked up and the midwife was across the bed from me looking at my face.  She said “Are you pushing?”

I had felt some definite pushing sensations but I honestly thought I was delusional because there was NO way I was pushing, just two hours after being told I was 3cm. I said “I think so. I think my water broke.  Or I peed. I’m not sure.”  I had another big contraction and yelled “She’s crowning!”

The midwife walked around the side of the bed and calmly said “Oh, your water is still intact!”  Scott got the phone and filmed the next part, which if I hadn’t seen the time stamp saying 1:40 I would never have believed it truly happened that fast.  My body took over and I kept pushing.  The midwife told me one more big push and as Evangeline was born, fully in the caul, I felt that sudden relief of being done.  As soon as her feet were out, the bag of waters broke with a huge splash.  I had one tiny little pad they threw under me, but other that that, I sat on the hospital floor and held my baby to my chest.   I looked at the midwife and the exact words that came out of my mouth were “Holy hell.”  She laughed and said “let’s get you off the floor”. 

Just after giving birth on the floor


After Matthew, Charlotte and Ben, I honestly didn’t think there were many other ways to be born.
But with just an hour of active labor, minutes of pushing; born in a rush, on the floor, in the caul (which is 1 in 80,000 babies, by the way), well, Evangeline sure made her impression.

Evangeline Ann

Evangeline means “bearer of Good News” and I’m just positive that she has a special calling on her life.  I can’t imagine the joy she will bring to our family over the years, but she will never fully comprehend how her life had already made me surrender and trust God and His goodness more than I ever have.  I am digging here for something awesomely spiritual to say that will bring this whole thing together, but honestly I just don’t have it yet.  I know that God is good, all the time.  And I know that while I suffered, His plan was greater than all of that.  I don’t know why we went through such emotional turmoil this pregnancy, but I do know that I have a Creator who loves me and who gave me this sweet girl to be her mother, which is an amazing privilege and calling.  When I was praying for a verse for Evangeline, I came to Isaiah 61:1

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor, He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners

And if that isn’t good news, I just don’t know what is.  

Evangeline Ann, born May 23rd, 2017;  9 lbs 12 oz, and 22” long  


Our precious girl; our whole family prayed for you, waited for you and is already blessed by you.  We cannot wait to see who you become and how much GOOD NEWS you bring to us and others who know you.  

She has no idea how much these 3 love her.  The first thing they said when she was born was “Thank you so much Mommy!” 

 

Celebrating her birth day with a cupcake in the hospital 

Our Texas Fixer Upper

on by in Uncategorized

If you’ve haven’t read the story of how and why we moved to Texas, go back and do that.

Fixer-Upper-TV-Series-Bannerphoto from HGTV

 

When we moved to Texas 6 months ago we were on the lookout for our dream house.  We considered buying a fixer upper… I mean, let’s be honest we considered moving to Waco and having Chip and Jo do a fixer upper for us but I digress… we thought about if we wanted to buy move in ready or if we wanted to buy something that needed work.  There were pros and cons to both obviously, and we were open to whatever came our way.

 

We had no idea that the fixer upper would be us!

We knew that moving would be hard, but there is no way I could have predicted that God would go full on demo with us.

It started with the kids. They had a really hard time adjusting to the move.  We started our Texas adventure exhausted and sick.  Charlotte got pink eye on our last leg of the drive and by the time we checked into our San Antonio hotel she was full on sick.  A few days later, we got our apartment and then Matthew got it.  His case was especially bad and I had to keep changing our approach in order to kill it.  He was miserable.  To make matters worse, our moving box wasn’t due to arrive for several more days so we only had our pillows and several blankets that were on our road trip.  I had to keep washing everything in between sleep and naps so that we didn’t spread the germs but we only had so much extra linens.  We bought an air mattress for Scott and I but it was terribly uncomfortable so we were all sick and tired and achy.  We didn’t have a couch or a table and my body ached from sitting on the ground while nursing.
Enough became enough for Matthew when he eventually started refusing to sleep.  This kid has always been our little sleep lover.  He is like clock-work when it comes to sleep.  He asks to go to bed.  And suddenly, not only was he refusing but he was rebelling.  He would do anything he could to get out of sleeping.  He would yell and scream at us, he would tell us he hated sleep, he hated this apartment and he would never sleep here.  The anger that possessed him was devastating. It hurt me so bad to see my baby suffering so badly.  We found out sometime during the battle that he was having nightmares.
Charlotte regressed in her potty training.  She was fully potty trained before we left but she began to have accidents when we’re preparing for the move but I had assumed it was mostly because we were so busy we were forgetting to check on her.  She did really great on our road trip but by the time we moved into the apartment she was regularly soiling herself without a care. We tried everything we could think of – encouragement, new panties, charts, stickers, candy, discipline… nothing worked.  She would basically just say she didn’t care.  After a while, we got tired of cleaning up poopy panties and scrubbing pee out of the carpet and resorted to putting her into PullUps full time.

emptyhousekids eating dinner in our empty house

The stress of the move was not lost on Scott and I.  We basically jumped head first into the ocean without knowing which way the shore was.  We were treading water.  We didn’t know if we had made the right choice and the kids’ behavior was beating us down. We were sleep-deprived. We were lonely.  We could no longer hear God’s voice and the promises we had once heard clearly had quickly become vague mutterings that we were no longer sure of.  I’m sad to say that we lost our tempers, we said words we regretted, we chose punishments we regretted and our desperation won.

We spent every weekend driving from town to town.  Every nap time was in the car, and while it was nice to have a time of forced sleep from the kids, it didn’t give us any respite and we were emotionally exhausted.  I can say, however, that having hours of quiet alone time exploring the beauty of central Texas was refreshing.  We saw a lot of towns we liked, but nothing we loved.  We just weren’t sure where our home was going to be.

smalltownsmall town in Texas, one of our weekend drives

We also tried several churches in different towns to see if one of them would lead us to our new hometown.  This process was exhausting and trying.  We’d often have to get the kids up early and out the door to drive to a far destination.  Keep in mind, this is the first time we were trying family-integrated worship services so we were having to coach the kids on sitting still and listening to sermons.  It was definitely more than we bargained for, especially facing the behavioral issues I’d previously mentioned.  We found one church that we liked in a town only 30 minutes from here and we began looking at homes in that area but it just wasn’t it for us.  We couldn’t put our finger on it, but it just wasn’t the perfect town for us.

We were discouraged and lost.  We kept forgetting what we were looking for, what our goals were, why were we in Texas again?!

After a few months, we decided to head north of Austin again and check out the area we had explored last spring on vacation.  While looking on Zillow, I found a home that I loved.  I told Scott immediately “This is it!”. I loved everything about it.  We drove up that weekend and looked at the house. Because it was last minute, our Realtor wasn’t able to join us and we called the listing agent and viewed the house.  We loved it.  It was perfect.  We discussed putting in an offer, but decided that we wanted to see it one more time before we did.  When we got home and started looking into it, we found out that the property taxes were much too high and it was going to put pressure on our budget.  While we could technically “afford” it, it wasn’t a comfortable place and we ended up letting it go.  We spent several more weekends house hunting in that town, but the more and more we hunted the more discouraged we got.

We finally had one night of looking where I lost it… there was yelling, there was crying…. There might have been cussing.  It was bad.  Scott finally said “Let’s take a break”.  And we took a few weekends off to celebrate Christmas and try to relax.

Throughout the whole thing, I was experiencing symptoms of my anxiety and depression again, some worse than I have before.  The loneliness was getting to me.  I am an extrovert and I very much thrive off of communication, togetherness and hosting things.  We didn’t know anyone and we didn’t go anywhere and all the things I ever did “for me” were packed up (sewing machine, crafting, decorating).  The apartment didn’t give me a space to go when I just couldn’t handle it any more and I was feeling frustrated, angry and claustrophobic.

Just after the new year, we put an offer in on another house that we loved.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was amazing and I really did love it.  One night, Scott was restless and never came to bed.  He told me the next day that the Lord had kept him awake until he was ready to listen and when he listened, he heard that we should not buy this house.  I was so proud of my husband for hearing God, but I was so angry at him for saying no to this house.  We prayed and prayed, Scott for wisdom and me for the house, and we went back to the house just before our option-period ended.  By the time we got there, Scott was sure the answer was no but I was praying for some other revelation.  I wanted the house.  I walked through it room by room, opening every single drawer and cupboard falling more and more in love with all of it.  And at the end of it I stood in the silence and I said “Lord, can I have this house, please can I have this house?”  My heart heard “Can you trust Me? Can you let go of this house and let Me give You what I want to give you?”  Of course, my selfishness said “I just don’t want a tract home Lord…” and I heard “What if what you don’t want is exactly what I want you to have?”

We left the house, called our Realtor and pulled our offer.  And I cried. For days.  I was angry at God, angry at my husband for listening to God (I’m a real gem…) and just plain angry.

In the midst of all of this, I realized that a lot of the outbursts and anger was deep, deeper than just the current circumstances and I made the commitment to forgiving a lot of hurt I was holding onto.  Every morning I sat with God, I prayed and I journaled, I poured out every hurt and I asked God to show me how to forgive.  I have to say, it’s been a long process but it’s been amazing.  While letting go of the hurt, I also camped out on John 15:2

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I wrestled with the feeling of being so blessed that God was helping me through it and with the idea that God did not want me to be happy, that He wanted to take away everything that I loved or wanted so that I could only want Him.  This idea scared me, mainly because at this point all I had left (or so I thought) was my kids and my husband and the mere thought of living without them was enough to send me into more anxiety and depression.  I would have sleepless nights worrying about ways I could lose them.  The more I thought about what God had pruned from my life, the more depressed I became.

About the same time we pulled our offer on the second house, we found out Ben was dealing with a health issue – that while minor {he’s okay} – is causing a great amount of anxiety, worry and guilt in my mommy-heart.  We decided to try a diet change and it was extreme.  Scott and I decided it was best for the whole family to participate rather than just Ben and I (for breastmilk).  Taking away foods that we loved was the last straw for me and I decided God wanted me to be miserable.  He wanted me to suffer and to have no joy in things of this world.  Instead of seeking blessing in this, I went into mourning.

If you know me personally or you know my story well enough, you know I have encountered much loss and much hurt in my short life time.  You know I lost my best friend at 17 years old.  You know I lost my house in a fire.  You know I lost my dad recently.  I am no stranger to grief.  I can’t explain how a 6 month stint in an apartment 2000 miles away from everyone we know can compare to the loss I’ve experienced but friends, I tell you it really did.  This was one of the most challenging fires I have ever walked through.

Daily, I have had to put on the armor of God.  Daily, I have had to ask Him to forgive my sin.  Daily, I have to had to ask Him to change my heart.  Daily, I have to remind myself that God is breaking down this house, down to the studs, and then some… He is checking for mold, He is replacing the old plumbing with new plumbing, He is making sure all the wiring is safe.  He is not leaving one part of the house unchecked.  He is about to build something more beautiful than I could have ever imagined, and in order to do that, He had to really get in there and do some hard work.

I don’t know what the finished product will look like… we can all hope it’s similar to something Chip and Jo would whip up.
Fixer-Upper-Gaines-Farmhouse-HGTVThe Gaines’ house- photo from HGTV

I hope the promise is fulfilled in my lifetime. I hope I get to see the end result.  But if not, I pray for my children, my legacy that they would benefit from this, that they would be built on The Rock and that they would stand firm on the Foundation we are laying for them.

And with all that said, we bought a house! It’s not a fixer upper (thank goodness!) but we do plan to put some of our own flair on it.  It’s not the house we set out to find, but it’s the house that God wants us in.  And we are praising Him, because He is good, all the time .

newhouse

 

Your Way Isn’t Right

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I got an email yesterday from a woman who spoke at a MOPS meeting I was at some time last year.  I remember her speech because I hated it.

She went on and on about how she always gets the house and herself perfect before her husband gets home from work.  She talked about putting on jeans instead of sweatpants, fixing her hair, putting on lipstick. She talked about how her husband didn’t like to see ‘evidence’ that the children lived there so they had to put away all their toys before he came home. She talked about how this is how she showed her husband that she loved him, put him first and respected him.

I love my husband.  I love putting him first.  I love respecting him.  I think all those things are important.

But I sat there that morning, probably in yoga pants, with my newborn baby and my two kids under 4 in childcare downstairs, thinking about the dishes in my sink that had been there for who-knows-how-long, and I thought about the toys that cover my floor all hours of the day, and I thought about the last time I did my hair more than putting in a bobby-pin or two. I thought about how my husband comes home  ready for action, ready to take the kids outside to play, ready to help with dinner.  And I thought “Thank you Jesus that my husband doesn’t require those things of me because I would surely fail and he would be pretty disappointed”.  And if he did require those things of me, the pressure that would consume my life would be unthinkable.

Listen.  I’m not saying she was wrong.  She found something that made her life happier, that made her husband feel loved and respected, that made her home life smooth.  That’s awesome.  But it’s just not going to happen in my house AND my husband doesn’t ask those things of me. Here’s what I realized:
Everyone has their thing.

Her thing, her moment of “when I did this thing, my life ran smoothly” was keeping her house and her self presentable for her husband.

Some people’s thing is eating a special way.

Some people’s thing is exercise.

Some people’s thing is going on vacations without their children.

Some people’s thing is being a home-body {ever met anyone who home births, home schools and works from home? Hi, I’m Jennie…and I never leave my house.}

And sometimes the problem is those people seem to think their way is THE way and then some people {myself} read their blogs or have conversations with them and think “I have to do xyz” in order for my life to work better, in order to be happy, in order to feel my best… and it’s simply not true.

Their thing is not right. Their way is not right.  I’m not saying its wrong.  But it’s not the only way.  I often feel the need to defend myself and my choices to people because I’m a people-pleaser and I like everyone to like me and agree with me.  I realized yesterday that I need to view these ideas and choices with the lens of not everything works for every person.  There are some Biblical concepts that are in stone, YES… I’m not talking about those things.  There are scriptures to support each of the above choices and many more.  Here’s what I’m learning though, and what I want to share with you, go to God.  Don’t read 30 blogs or articles and then make a decision for you life.  Even if the blogs and articles are from the best Christian pastors and authors and moms you know.  The path that God has them on may not be for you.  Trying to be like everyone else is not going to give you peace.   I brought this turmoil to Jesus and I said “Is this what You want for me? Is this drawing me, my kids, my husband to You?”

Here’s my verses that I’m meditating on to help myself remember these principles:
Proverbs 21:2  Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but the Lord considers the heart.

Hebrews 12:1 Let us throw off everything that hinders us and the sin that so easily entangles

John 15: 4  Abide in me and I in you.  A branch cannot bear fruit unless it abides in the vine and neither can you, unless you abide in Me. proverbs21

Moving To Texas: Part 2

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Moving to Texas: Part 2 The Planning

If you missed part one of this series, go back and read it first! It will fill you in on the Emotional “how” and this post will walk you through the logistics of planning the big move.

If you know me in real life, you know I am a planner. I love lists.  I love calendars.  I’m always on time.  I love schedules.  I start packing for trips about 2 weeks before we leave, and I start making packing lists at least a month before that! No joke.  So, of course, moving half way across the country was one big epic list making extravaganza.  I had several different lists going and then it hit me! BAM! Notebook.  So I got a three ring binder and some adorable dividers (seriously, I love school supplies!) and made a moving binder.  I wanted to make a cover for it, but it fell to the back burner and now it is housing The Rippey Road Trip Art Gallery, which obviously is way better.

Once we set a date, I took all the remaining weekends and made a big calendar (basically I just printed out the weekend dates with a bunch of space in between for me to write) and I hung it up on the hallway wall.  I also made a blank sheet for “Road Trip” and “Disneyland” (oh wait, did I mention our drive across country started with a week at Disneyland… crazy, much?) and I also hung those on the wall.  I used those to jot down any quick things I thought of that I wanted to bring with us, so I didn’t forget in the rush of things.  We basically gave ourselves 6 weeks before we left and in my opinion that was the perfect amount of time. Right near the end of the six weeks, I was like “I’m ready to go already!” but I wasn’t too rushed either.

Step One: Set a Budget and SAVE

The first thing we did was set a moving budget.  We had 3 options for moving our stuff 1) drive a Uhaul ourselves (which meant Scott driving the Uhaul, and me driving the van with three kids – VETO!) 2) pay a moving company (um, we’re not the Rockerfellers here! VETO!) or 3) do a “POD” which was the most convenient choice.  Honestly,  I didn’t even price out the other options because I decided they weren’t options.  So, if your budget is a big deal, I would suggest looking into those.  Once we decided on a POD, we compared prices and went with Pack Rat.  It was the least expensive, and had the policies to work with what we needed (there was another company who only gave you two days to load it and we wanted more time).  We also got a discount because of the time of year (end of summer).  Pack Rat was affordable, reliable and really convenient.  They dropped a moving container off in our driveway a week before our move date and picked it up.  Then they delivered in San Antonio at the new apartment and picked it up a few days later.  It took longer to get here than we did to get here, so that was a bummer, but we had expected that.  (What we didn’t expect was how hard it was to live without our stuff!!)

The other things we factored into our budget was the driving costs, hotel costs and food costs.  Once we had our budget, we figured out how long it would take us to save that much.  And then we picked our date.

Step Two: Set a Date 

Several things went into picking our date.  One was weather.  We had made our decision to move in May, but I knew I didn’t want to move in the hot hot summer and I also knew I couldn’t do it all in just a few weeks.  We also really wanted to go to Disneyland before we moved and I didn’t want to do that in the summer either (wouldn’t it figure we went during the hottest week any way?! At least it wasn’t crowded!!).  The other thing was Ben’s first birthday and the holidays.  We knew if we stayed for Ben’s birthday in November, then we’d think “may as well stay for Thanksgiving” and then if we were staying for Thanksgiving, we’d say “may as well stay for Christmas” and before we knew it we’d never leave! So, Labor Day it was and as soon as we had a date we were able to really put things into action.

Step Three: Details, Details, Details

With a date and a city, we then picked a place.  We chose to sign a short lease on an apartment while we house hunt (and town hunt).  I wish I could say we used Apartments.com one day and picked a great place… but it was not that easy.  We had a lot of requirements and I’m sad to say that even with as much picking and choosing, we still have things we don’t like!  But we know it’s temporary and we’re putting on our tough faces! Finding a home just based on the internet is not easy but it’s doable.  There are a lot of great search engines and Google Maps (Earth) is a huge help!
We also had to decide what to do with our stuff…. moving is expensive.  So we decided that we would pay for one moving container and that was it! Whatever didn’t fit in it, wasn’t coming.  And let me tell you… it’s not a lot.  We decided that since all of our furniture was either hand me downs or used or cheap… we’d just sell it all and buy new stuff when we bought a house.  This meant a lot of Craigslisting and a lot of living without stuff once we got to Texas.  We also decided to sell our second car (my husband works from home and it’s not big enough for our family, so it wouldn’t need to be replaced right away any way). The rule was “If we don’t love it or use it, it’s not coming!”.  Start deciding what you can live without and start getting rid of it early.
We also started researching health insurance, homeschooling co-ops, churches, how to register our car, etc.  so we would be prepared when we got there.  We checked travel routes.  We looked at the weather charts.  Basically, we got all the answers to the questions people would ask… which leads me to my next point…

Step Four: Tell People

Telling people is the hardest part. We laugh because the question we heard most was “What’s in San Antonio?” and the real answer was “Nothing!”  Think ahead about your reasons, and figure out how to communicate them.  We found that when you say “we wanted to move out of San Diego” to people who live in San Diego, it kind of hurt their feelings.  And then we were back peddling like “Uh… I mean, San Diego is great… its’ just uh … expensive… uh and uh, too sunny…”   The other thing to realize is that some people’s idea of a good reason to move are not the same as others.  That’s okay.  Remember, you are not defending yourself, you are just notifying them.  I found that the people who knew us the best didn’t ask a lot of WHY questions, because they knew why.  They knew our hearts and they knew that this is something we’ve been praying about for years.  I wish I could tell you the best way to answer, but honestly I believe it depends on who you are talking to.  Scott chose to notify his parents and siblings  via email, which may sound calloused, but it was the best way he could get out everything he needed to say without being too emotional about it.  It also gave them time to digest the news before responding with hurt or shock, which was inevitable because of what a HUGE change this is for them.   We gave most people about 6 weeks notice, which was when we nailed the final details down (basically, had all the answers to their questions!)

Step Five: Start Packing 

Packing with three small kids is not an easy task.  However, I got started early, just doing one drawer or cupboard at a time.  I would put garage sale items in one pile (I kept a roll of colored masking tape and a Sharpie next to me to price them as I went), trash in one pile and stuff to pack in one pile.  Anything that I needed to use for the time being went back in the drawer.  I literally would do maybe one or two of these a day, during naps or whenever the kids were occupied.  Before I knew it, I was mostly done! My garage sale was priced and ready and my drawers were empty.  I made a list of thing I wanted to leave out – to pack in the car or to use up until the end.  The stuff that was used up until the end was packed into boxes that would come out first… like my coffee maker.  Oh how I missed by coffee maker…

Moving “saran wrap” (I honestly don’t know what it’s called) is the best.  We have our toys in a cube shelving unit and we just wrapped that baby up, wrapped up the shoe bench (shoes still in it!), wrapped up the dressers (the kids use the plastic Rubbermaid type drawers) and everything just stayed in.  It was really helpful.  Now that I am unpacking in the apartment, I would have better organized my  stuff on what things I want out for the “in between time” and the stuff that could wait until we get into the house because now I’m digging through boxes and putting half unpacked boxes back in the garage.  It’s not the best system.

Step Six: Pray a lot and depend on the Word

There is no easy way to move your family to another state.  There is no easy way to make life changing decisions.  The best advice I can give is to pray a lot and find scriptures that encourage you to stay the course.  Read the Word, pray with your spouse and keep reminding each other of your goals and the promises you’ve received from the Lord.  Scott and I see to be on a teeter-totter (he calls them see-saws so whatever….) this whole time, when I am down, he is up and when I am up, he is down.  But the good thing about that is that we are there to get each other to where we need to be.  

Coming up… part 3 The Emotional One! It’s been HARD. Harder than we thought.  So hard it took me 3 months to write this post because I just couldn’t deal.  But it’s getting better and we are excited to share more of our journey with you (ya’ll!) soon.  Until then, if you are seriously considering a move to another state and you have questions, feel free to post them on Facebook or PM/email me.  We want to share this journey so we can support others! texas

We’re Moving To Texas, Ya’ll!

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texas

 Part One: The Explanation

That’s right! Our family is leaving sunny San Diego for the wide, open spaces of San Antonio, Texas. We are leaving in just a few weeks and we are busy busy busy packing, selling most of our stuff and saying our goodbyes.  We’ve mostly kept our news off of social media, mostly because we wanted to be old-fashioned about it (you know, when people used to tell each other news in person?) but also because it’s such an emotional and sensitive topic for us and our close family and friends that we thought it was better handled off-line.  However, we have had so many wonderful, positive responses and a great deal of other young families like us saying “We’ve talked about moving out of California too! Let us know how it goes!” that we thought we would chronicle our experiences here to hopefully help and encourage others.

To answer the first question we get asked, no, we are not moving for Scott’s job.

It may sound strange, because it’s so counter-cultural, but we are not choosing our location for work.  About 3 years ago, Scott and I decided that by the time Matthew was school aged, we would have accomplished a few things. 1) Decide what we wanted to do for schooling 2) Decide where we wanted to buy a house and 3) be financially ready to buy a house.

The first answer came to us rather quickly, as we were already mostly sure we would home school.  Once we decided that was for sure our plan, that opened a lot of doors for us.  The third answer was a battle as we worked on communicating our budget, using online tools and saving, saving, saving.  I hope one day my husband will guest post his budget how-to because he has worked out a phenomenal program that keeps us accountable and on-task, and he has done a great job at getting us secure.  But back to the subject, number 2.  Where did we want to live?

The first and most obvious answer was in San Diego, because we were already here.  We moved to San Diego 5 years ago for a job, with the intention of opening doors for Scott’s career.  We did just that, his career has taken off and he is a highly sought after, very well-loved software developer with great resources and an amazing list of accomplishments over those years.  But the more we thought about living in San Diego for the rest of our lives, it just wasn’t right.  The cost of houses is absolutely unbelievable and we know that expensive city does not mesh well with stay-at-home-mom and lots of kids (which are absolutes in our life, Lord willing).  I also really don’t want to live in a track home and growing up in a small town in the mountains, I was having a hard time accepting raising my kids in a suburb of one of the largest cities in California.  When we talked about what we wanted for our family, I craved the small-town and big yards that I grew up with and San Diego just wasn’t fitting in with my dreams.  In general, we’ve never really embraced everything that people pay the big bucks for in San Diego – we don’t really go to the beach and we just aren’t really big activity people, we would rather spend our weekends hanging out at home than kayaking, visiting museums, running (everyone here runs!), or being at big, crowded events.  We just knew San Diego wasn’t our home.

After we decided that, we considered our other options: move back to where we were from or pick a completely different spot.  I think like most people do, we started considering work opportunities.  We were not okay with a long commute, as family time is a top priority.  Both of our hometowns don’t have a ton of opportunities for software developers (mine probably has zero, considering it has a population of 5000) and we knew that in order to work close to home, we would have to make sacrifices both financially and in the line of work (at this point, Scott was designing an app for Xbox One so you can see how not much could live up to that!).  We started considering other states.  At first, it was mostly a joke… kind of the politically conservative “get of out California” jokes.  I had always felt like I was more of  “Southern Belle” than a Southern Californian any way – I’m kinda the cookie-baking-porch-swing-sitting-apron-wearing type.  And as we began to pray and talk and think… the idea of moving out of state became more and more of a necessity than an idea.  The list of pros was quickly outweighing the cons and we just knew that our minds were made up.  But there were more logistics to cover, especially the job situation.

The more we thought about job choices, the more we started wondering why we were letting a job – something that, while necessary and important, is so temporal- rule our decision.   As amazing as Scott’s job is, he was never going to stand before God and hear “Great code there, Scott, you really nailed that website”.   We thought about our faith, we thought about what God was asking of us and we knew that the most important thing we can do on this earth is represent the Lord through our marriage and our family.  We considered what that looked like and how we could be purposeful about raising people who love and serve the Lord.  I’m getting way off track here, but the more we prayed and sought answers, the more we were seeing a smaller town, a smaller church, a smaller community.  And old fashioned, slower paced, know-your-neighbors kind of life.  And Texas just kept on coming to our mind.

Little by little we were getting convicted to make huge changes in our life and in our parenting and in our walk with God.  We decided we ought to go to Texas.  We chose to visit Austin because of the big tech industry there.  We visited some areas just outside, in commutable distance, and we came home discouraged.  We had really thought we would show up and the skies would open and God’s countenance would shine upon us and we would hear “This is your new home!” but surprisingly, that didn’t happen.  And since that didn’t happen, we thought maybe we were wrong.  So we went home and thought “Well, I guess we’re not moving to Texas.”

But as He does, the Lord laughed at our plans and continued pushing us towards Texas.  We had previously talked about Scott working from home in the future so that he could participate in homeschooling at a deeper level.  Just out of curiosity, Scott started applying for remote positions.  He decided to take an interview to explore what exactly remote positions entailed and whether or not it would work for us.  Of course (because like I said, he’s awesome) he was offered an amazing position and he accepted! After he accepted this remote position, we knew that was the answer to our prayers that we had been waiting for and now we were on our way to leaving California.

And then the ball was rolling!
Telling our families was probably the hardest part.  Of course we could not overlook the huge change of being an entire plane ride away from family.  We had always been a short drive away and it was certainly not something we  took for granted.  We talked to a lot of friends who live far away from their extended families and we found that, for the most part, the distance made family visits as a vacation – something special and exciting and memorable.  We are choosing to focus on the benefits of that scenario and praying that God will provide for us a church family that will be able to support us.

A lot of people have asked why Texas, mostly because they’ve considered it too… and while I touched on it a bit in the above explanation there are a few main reasons.  The first thing we checked was homeschooling laws  because that is very important to us.  While California is “free enough” for most people, we were drawn to the idea of a “No Notice” state which there are about 10.  We also didn’t want to live in any very cold climates so that took a big chunk off the list.  We also considered Arizona, which is not a No Notice state but does have low regulation.  Texas is also a mostly-conservative state, which politically is important to us.  The ol’ “God, Family, Country” theme is our main draw.  The people of Texas, the hospitality, the South, the family values is what drew us there.  We know a lot of people leaving California for the Pacific Northwest, but just like we weren’t really “San Diego People” we didn’t think we were “PNW People” either.  We aren’t really outdoorsy and we knew we just wouldn’t appreciate the greenery up there like everyone else.  Texas just fit with us.  So if you’re considering a move, find your priorities and weigh the pros and cons.  Oh and yes, we know it’s hot in Texas!

And more specifically, why San Antonio? Well, the answer to that is really vague.  Sometimes it feels like we just drew it out of a hat.  First of all, I should clarify that our plan is to rent in San Antonio while we explore other areas.  Like I mentioned before, we don’t want to live in a city or even a suburb, we want to find a smaller town.  We just didn’t think picking a random small town was the best idea! We decided it was best to find a landing spot for the time being and spend some time exploring the area.  But Texas is a large state and there are a lot of options.  Since we had tried, and not loved, Austin we started considering Houston.  We were particularly looking for churches, family-integrated churches specifically, and there is a big one outside of Houston.  But the more we explored there, we realized we were stressed and not at peace.  We invited a couple from church, who are from Texas, over for prayer and counsel and a little encouragement.  We explained to them what we were looking for and they told us to try Hill Country.  They suggested the area between San Antonio and Austin, which is the opposite direction from which we looked before.  Once we began our {internet} research of San Antonio, we felt peace and the pieces started coming together.  We know that even though we want to live and fellowship in a smaller town, having access to things like educational field trips, amusement parks, airport, colleges, and other benefits a city has.  San Antonio can offer us those things and has plenty of smaller towns on the outskirts.

To wrap up this very lengthy post, I’ll just say that all in all, it’s a huge step of faith.  We have a lot of things figured out, we made a lot of smart choices, a lot of well-thought out plans, and a lot of prayers and counsel went into this decision.  BUT there is a huge element of faith, there is a a lot of unknown about what we are embarking on and for all we know, we could get there and hate it.  However, we have a ton of peace about it and we are very excited.  We are confident that our family will thrive in Texas and that God will bless us for our faithfulness.  If you would like to join us in prayer, you can pray for a safe trip out there as well as the kids’ behavior and adjustment to the craziness of life on the road.  You can also pray for us to find the community of our dreams to settle down.

I will continue to blog in this series, to encourage and inform those who are interested in a similar journey and to update our loved ones on our adventure.  This was the Emotional How To and I will post again soon with the Logical (How we are moving 3 kids and a ton of junk across the country, renting an apartment sight unseen, and searching for a home in the wild frontier!)

But for now, I think I have a few boxes to pack…

Teaching Our Kids to Be Safe

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As a mom, there is little I want more than to keep my children safe. If I could put them in a little bubble and make sure no one ever hurt them, physically or emotionally, I just might do that.  But we live in a fallen world and the truth is, they might just get hurt.

Of course, as parents, we take responsibility for a lot of the safety.  We always know who are kids are with.  We have our car seats certified and checked. We learn how to buckle them properly.  We always supervise near water.  We chose parks that are fenced in.  We put on bike helmets, every time.  We hold hands while crossing the street.  We put gates over stair cases.  There’s a million little things we do every day to keep them safe.  But there are some things we just don’t have control over, we can do our best, but the best thing may be to remember there’s only so much we can do and to teach our kids how to be safe.

In our house, we have a sign with our safety rules posted on our fridge.  Our kids aren’t old enough to read yet, so it’s there for the adults.  It’s there for Mom and Dad to read and remind the kids, to drill the information into them so they know what to do without a second thought.  It’s also there for other adults who enter our house to see and read, so that any one who is around our kids knows what we are doing and how they can help.

20150612_122744Our rules:
1. Always Check First
“I must get mom or dad’s permission even if it’s with someone I know. If I can’t check, the answer is NO.”
We like to give hypothetical situations when reviewing the rules so I will usually use people my kids know.  Obviously, this rule is because it’s just good to know where you’re kids are, but also to avoid them being kidnapped by a “nice stranger” who wants them to come look at something.  I don’t want to tell my kids that and instill fear in them, so I just tell them it’s important that mommy and daddy always know where they are and who they are with.  I use examples like “What if Uncle asked you to go look at something in his car?” because then they realize it’s not scary, it’s just a nice thing to ask mama first.  It also teaches them that no matter who it is, even if it’s family or a best friend, they have to ask.  I also threw my son a curve ball and said “What if he says he already asked me and I said it was ok?” and my son said “I would say ok!” Ahhh! So now I make sure to remind them that they should say “I still need to check.”

2. No Touching Without Asking
“I always ask before touching others and they should ask before touching me. It’s okay to say “No thank you”.
I really struggled with this one because I want my kids to know boundaries but we are a very physical family and we love hugging, tickling, kissing, etc.  But not all kids like to be touched so I didn’t want them just running up to strange kids and hugging them.  Secondly, my oldest is very affectionate and we have to constantly remind him to not kiss people on the lips or not crawl up on people’s laps.  We remind them that only family gets kisses on the lips.  For any other touching, you need to ask if it’s okay first. “Can I sit on your lap?” “Can I have a hug?”  The other important part of this rule is that they can always say no.  It’s hard to watch an extended family member pressure your toddler for a kiss… sometimes toddlers just don’t want to give kisses and I feel so bad that my child is being rude.  But I firmly believe that we cannot teach kids that in order to be polite they have to comply with requests for kisses or hugs… or any other physical touch.  So I tell my kids “Use your manners” and that means saying “No Thank You” not complying.

3. Privacy is Important 
“No one sees or touches my private areas unless mom or dad say it’s okay. I knock on closed doors. I can ask for privacy.”
Unfortunately, at a young age there are a few exceptions to people seeing your private parts so it’s important that kids know that sometimes it is okay.  We always remind them when we leave that the adult in charge is okay to help with potty breaks or diaper changes.  We remind them to always knock if a door is closed and that they can ask someone to leave if they need privacy to go potty or change clothes.

4. We Don’t Keep Secrets
“No one should ask me to keep secrets.  If someone does, I should tell mom and dad right away.”
When we realized the importance of this rule, it took a while to change some of our vocabulary.  Secrets are fun! There are secret codes and secret birthday gifts and secrets whispered in the ear.  So now we say “surprises”.  The difference is a secret is meant to be kept, a surprise will be told eventually.  It’s also hard because sometimes well meaning people will say “Here! Let’s go have a cookie before dinner… shhhh! Don’t tell your mom!” because that sounds harmless and so fun.  But we want to foster a sense of trust with our kids so they know it’s okay to have fun, it’s okay to have a special treat sometimes but when those words “don’t tell your mom” are mentioned, we want alarm bells to go off! Again, we don’t want to scare our kids by telling them the “real” reason this is wrong, but we use examples like if you are with your friends and they steal some candy and they tell you “don’t tell anyone!” you should always do what’s right and tell an adult.

Clearly, these rules are to protect our children from sexual abuse… there are other benefits of these rules, but their main goal is to protect our children from people who want to harm them.  These people may be strangers, but statistically, it would be someone our children know, and likely trust.  That’s why we don’t teach “stranger danger” or anything like that.  We don’t want them to be afraid or not trust people.  We want to them to be smart, make good choices and trust US.   We have other safety rules in our house – remind us if your buckles aren’t on tight, no getting in the water without an adult with you, stop and look both ways before crossing the street, hold the side of the cart or stroller in the parking lot, no sword fighting people without swords – you get the idea.  But these safety rules are written and reviewed because they aren’t things that happen on a daily basis and we want them to be in their memory, to be a habit.  

And of course, with all things, we cover our children with prayer and ask the Lord to protect them and keep them safe.

You can follow me on Facebook and comment there to join in on conversation about how you keep your kids safe. 

 

Can I Get A Little Help, Please?!

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After Ben was born, I experienced another bout of Postpartum Depression and I really had a hard time keeping up with the normal things around the house.  Because I have the most supportive husband ever, he offered to hire a house cleaner.  He even set up a free consultation.

The lady showed up and walked around my house (no, that’s not uncomfortable at all… “Hmm… let me judge how messy you are…”) and explained what they would do.
First they would do the initial cleaning, it was a little more expensive because it was a deep clean.
Then they would come every other week and do the floors, the bathrooms, all those chores that I haven’t even thought of for months.

But then came the kicker.  The house had to be picked up.  They didn’t put away the toys, the random cups every where, the pieces of food left under the sofa… they didn’t do dishes or laundry… and if I left it, they would just clean around it.

I wanted to CRY! All I could think was “Great, now twice a month I have definite pressure to clean my house so that someone can come clean my house? If I could get the laundry and dishes done, and get the stuff put away, I wouldn’t need any help!”

I thought to myself…. I need a nanny. Someone who can help pick up, do light chores, watch the kids so I can shower or put my laundry away or start dinner.  But I don’t want a full time nanny. I don’t want to pay a nanny, I don’t need a babysitter… I just need like… a helper. A Mother’s Helper.

You guys, do you know those exist?! Mother’s Helpers are a thing. So we got one.  And it’s like we hired a Fairy Godmother. She’s an older lady, who was a preschool teacher and a nurse. She comes once a week for 3 hours. She comes at 9am, ready to help.  She looks around.  She greets the kids.  If Charlotte has breakfast on her face, she grabs a wash cloth.  If Matthew is doing a puzzle, she cheers him on.  If I am standing there in my pajamas, with messy hair and holding a wiggly baby, she takes him out of my arms and loves on him.  She helps with dishes.  She makes lunch.  She takes the kids outside to play.  She does homeschool assignments I prepare.  She puts away laundry.  She plays board games.  She vacuums and sweeps and wipes up messes. She gives me a few minutes to shower or clean the bathroom or hang up my clothes.  She gives me a little adult conversation.  And when she leaves at noon, my house is picked up, my kids are ready for their naps and I am relieved.

But do you know what I love best about her? She tells me I’m doing a good job.  She watches me handle a situation with the kids and says “I like the way you handled that” or she sees our memory verses posted and says “Thank you for teaching them that!” When I serve snack, she says “You guys have a great mommy to make you such a great snack!” All day long, she tells me I’m a good mom and she tells what I’m doing right.  And that, friends, is priceless.

I’m sharing this on my blog because I want you all to know there is help! There are people who just love kids and want to help.  Sometimes they are young girls, who want to earn some extra cash (summer time is a great time to look!), college students who need something flexible, or retired grandmas who want to help.  Ask around.  This is an incredible blessing!

Get a little help mama! You are worth it.

Loving Moms Through Postpartum Mood Disorders

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Bear each other’s burdens and so fulfil the law of Christ. Galatians 6:2

While most moms experience some sort of emotional change after giving birth, postpartum mood disorders are anything but normal.  Unfortunately, when moms are going through them they don’t always speak out.  Sometimes it’s out of fear of admitting the thoughts they struggle with.  Sometimes it’s worry that friends will brush it off or belittle the severity.  Sometimes it’s concern that no one can or wants to deal with such an emotional train wreck.

When I had my first child, I actually planned to leave my husband so that he wouldn’t have to deal with me.  The only thing that kept me there was that I couldn’t decide what would be best for him, taking the baby or leaving him.

The statistics say that 1 in 5 moms suffer from some sort of postpartum mood disorder.  This includes depression, anxiety, psychosis and more.  Because 70-80% of moms get a case of the baby blues, it is easy for others to misunderstand postpartum mood disorders.  The Baby Blues usually last for the first few weeks where as PPMD can show up anytime in the first year and usually last months upon months, especially when left untreated.

Because I’ve had two births that were followed by PPMD and one that was not, the way I would describe the difference is that having a PPMD is more severe.
When a normal thought is “I just want to go to bed and sleep forever!” the unhealthy thought is “I want something terrible to happen to me so I can go to the hospital and have pain medication”.
Normal thought “I am so overwhelmed I don’t even know where to start in my to-do list!”
Unhealthy thought “I can’t even do my every day chores. I suck as a mom and a wife and it would be better for everyone if I just left.”
Normal thought “I feel so isolated. I’m so lonely.”
Unhealthy thought “I have no friends.  No one would care if I drove my car off a cliff”

I’m sharing my experience for two reasons, one is that I want moms who have PPMD to know they are not alone.  But also because I feel that people who have not experienced PPMD do not always know how to support their loved ones who do experience them.  If you are experiencing PPMD, having support from your friends and family is so important.  Please find someone you love and trust to share with.  Make sure your husband knows and understands.  Tell him your scary thoughts.  He needs to know exactly what you’re going through.  Find articles and blogs, to help give him insight.

It’s very scary to say “I have postpartum depression” out loud and even scarier to say it to another person.  Most of the moms I spoke to about this said they mostly just wanted someone to talk to. If someone you love shares a little, or a lot, of their struggle with you, here are some tips to help them out.
– Try not to compare experiences.  If she’s saying she’s “overwhelmed” you might be tempted to say “Yeah, we all are overwhelmed with a new baby!” She might actually mean she’s feeling hopeless and desperate and not know how to say it.

– Don’t just say “Let me know if you need anything!” Offer her something specific.   Ask her what would help and offer what you are capable of.   Can you take her kids for a playdate? Can you come over with a cup of coffee? Can you fold some laundry? Really listen to her answer. If she sounds unsure, she might not want know how to tell you that she’s uncomfortable with what you’re offering.  Another thing that’s helpful is to be assertive and tell her dates and times. Don’t leave it open ended by suggesting “sometime”.

– Don’t assume.  Just because you see me post a picture of my kids doing awesome crafts on Instagram doesn’t mean it’s all June Cleaver over here.  What you don’t see is that 20 minutes before that picture I had an epic meltdown, yelled at my kids, ran in my bedroom and thought “I need something for them to do before I leave them home alone and go check in to The Holiday Inn” so I threw the construction paper and glue sticks at them. The mess will then stay on my table for two days.  I took a picture because I was proud of myself that they weren’t watching TV again.

– Ask a lot of questions.  If you ask how she is and she says “fine”, ask again.  Ask a couple days later.  Ask more specific questions.  “Are you up for company?” “Are you getting enough sleep?” “Are you still feeling overwhelmed?” “Want to go for a walk?” “How’s your relationship with your husband?” “Are you struggling with anything specific?” And then listen.  Let her know you hear her and validate her. Don’t offer too much advice.  Hormones are not rational and don’t respond well to “just let it go!”

– Just understand.  Most of the time, I feel like I’m walking on thin ice.  Sometimes I might be skating gracefully and doing spins and twirls, but then all of a sudden I feel the ice begin to break out underneath me.  When that feeling happens, I’m embarrassed to be around people because I don’t know what they will think of me.  When I can say to my friend, “I’m starting to have anxiety being here” and they answer with, “Okay, do you want to leave?” I immediately feel safe.

Because all moms have different symptoms and needs, I’ve asked a few other moms I know to share their own experiences.

Mama C: I have two children (ages 3 and 5) and have experienced postpartum depression twice, and it was definitely more severe after my second baby.   It wasn’t just depression, however, as I also experienced intense anxiety as well as at least one obsessive-compulsive behavior.  My experience included:  severe insomnia, loss of appetite/weight-loss, thoughts of harming myself, severe irritability, and a pervasive sense of hopelessness and worthlessness.  For the first four months with my second, I felt so overwhelmed, exhausted, and anxious that many mornings I simply couldn’t get out of bed to face life with a colicky baby.  My husband had to call off work on several occasions to cover child care on those days, and I began to have feelings of anger and resentment towards my baby (though thankfully never had thoughts of harming her.)  It was very difficult at the time to share with others what was going on – I truly felt that most people didn’t care (a lie that depression tells you) or just wouldn’t “get it” (especially if they had never gone through it themselves.)  I deeply appreciated the few people who showed genuine concern and desire to listen/understand – whether by calling/texting to check on me, asking me to coffee to talk, or offering practical help.  For me, deeper relief eventually came after talking with my doctor and making the decision to go on an antidepressant (a life-saver for me, literally), as well as hiring regular childcare to give me reliable breaks.  Looking back, I know that I have never felt so alone or afraid at any other time in my life, and I still thank the Lord that – with help – I was able to climb out of the abyss.  Life certainly isn’t perfect now, but I feel healthy and “normal” and truly enjoy time with my family and doing things that I love again.  I want to tell any mom going through something similar that 1) you are not alone, and 2) please take the courageous step to reach out (sooner rather than later,) tell the whole truth of what you’re feeling, and keep asking for help until you get it!

Mama A: So I was told to keep this not too long however this is a topic close to my heart, in fact I am currently writing a paper on it. After each of two my boys I experienced PPD (Postpartum Depression).  My chart says “Major reoccurring postpartum depression with recurrent episodes are mild” and “anxiety”. Each child I get bad PPD and I still struggle some days. Sometimes my anxiety is bad and other times my depression pops back up. I tried a few times to talk to my friends and family about it however PPD is almost taboo. Most people know the term “baby blues” and associate that with PPD however although they can be related but they aren’t the same. My family and friends didn’t understand or would think that I was fine and I went undiagnosed for months. It severely affected all my relationships in many aspects. I was a puddle of emotions and my husband didn’t know if I was going to flip or break down at any moment. The things that helped me were yoga. I do yoga every day and my kids too. My friends and family learning about PPD and us talking about what I needed from them and how they could support me was a big one. Lastly becoming friends with people who dealt with it and survived it. Postpartum Progress is a great resource to connect with moms and survivors. The hard thing about PPD depression is the signs/symptoms can vary. The common idea is that you can get it and deal with it from birth- a year, new research is showing some moms may get it while pregnant and it may be possible to have it even after a year. Common signs are: Loss of appetite, Insomnia, Intense irritability and anger, Overwhelming fatigue, Loss of interest in sex , Lack of joy in life, Feelings of shame, guilt or inadequacy, Severe mood swings, Difficulty bonding with your baby, Withdrawal from family and friends, Thoughts of harming yourself or your baby.

To any mom who is struggling I would say getting help takes a tremendous amount of courage but I am so proud of you. I am praying for you. You are an incredible mom because you are getting help so you can be the best mom/wife/friend you can be.

 

Mama M: I  have a total of 6 kids, 4 are mine (soon to be 6, 4, 2, and due with 4th in 2-3 weeks) and 2 are my husband’s teenage siblings, 18 and 15, that we care for full time.

Around the time of my first three births, one or more very stressful life events have happened, so it is difficult for me to attribute my depression solely to PPD as it could very well be situational depression as well as symptom of my autoimmune disease and thyroid issues. Also, in between my first and second and second and third births, I had a miscarriage. The first one we lost twins and I was emotionally devastated and the second time was very traumatic physically and it took a while for me to heal from that.

I did not tell anybody because I am not one to ask for help and because at the time, I wouldn’t have thought myself to be depressed. It is only hindsight that I clearly see that I was in it deep. This 4th pregnancy is actually the first time that I have reached out and admitted that I needed help. It has been a humbling and blessed season for me.

I wish that I didn’t put up this supermom facade for so so long. Being broken beyond what I could fix myself has really allowed me to be open and honest with moms in particular and the response has been amazing. Being vulnerable and sharing that with others is incredibly freeing and is now my passionate prayer for other moms. My advice would be to find someone and to be real. It is scary at first, but I bet you will find that walls and facades are broken down real quick and true, genuine, beautiful friendships will be born.
Mama S: I have 2 children and I experienced postpartum depression with both of them to varying degrees. I have a history of depression, so I knew that getting postpartum depression would be more likely for me, but I wasn’t fully prepared for it with my first son. The depression was worst with him because I didn’t get any help or reach out to anyone.  I felt very isolated, ashamed, and embarrassed and thought that I shouldn’t be feeling this way.  To an outsider, I probably looked like everything was fine, but internally I was falling apart. I would still have enjoyable moments with my son, but I would often experience crying or anxiety and get overwhelmed in my emotions or negative thoughts. It was difficult for me to be around other moms because I looked at everyone else as ‘normal’ because they seemed so happy and have it together but I felt like a mess. However, keeping everything to myself caused me to suffer longer and harder than I had to. With my second son I was more prepared and sought help before he was born.  I looked for a counselor who specialized in postpartum depression, which was very helpful, and I also attended a few postpartum support groups that helped me realize that I wasn’t alone in my feelings. I shared with friends and family that I felt like I could trust and asked for prayer and emotional support when needed. The most difficult part about having postpartum depression is reaching out for help because it makes me want to stay isolated in fear of being misunderstood. I believe that God has been with me through every tear and desperate prayer and that He continues to heal me.

2 Kings 20:5 (ESV) – “…Thus says the Lord, the God of David your father: I have heard your prayer; I have seen your tears. Behold, I will heal you…”

 

All of these mamas and myself want to pray for you.  If you want to comment here or on Facebook, we will be praying for you or you can send me an email to mrs.rippey@gmail.com and I will make sure it gets to the above mama.  Remember that friendship cannot replace professional help, so if you are experiencing harmful thoughts towards yourself or others, you need to call your doctor or a crisis line immediately.

 

I Don’t Mess Around With Nap Time

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I don’t mess around with nap time.

Most people think I’m a little too strict.  Or maybe a lot too strict.  We adhere to our nap schedules on birthdays and Christmas. Even at Disneyland. When the sky is falling and the locusts are invading, we will adhere to nap time.

I freakin’ love nap time.

I didn’t always know I’d be so strict about nap time but my first born does not handle change well and is best when he has a routine.  The kid slept like clockwork.  So when just 15 months later, his little sister came along, I kept her on a similar path and now at ages 4 and 2.5 they are synchronized.  Once baby number 3 came into the picture, I have never been more happy that I enforce a nap time.

A couple months ago, my 4 year old started fighting naps.  So many sources were saying “he’s at the age, it’s time to drop naps” but I just couldn’t give it up! So, I made strict quiet time rules.  You don’t have to nap.  You have to stay in your bed.  You can read or do a work book.  The end.  He usually falls asleep. I also allow my kids to listen to audio books.  But everyone stays in their bed.

I fully believe that my children are happier, better behaved and more self-regulated when they are on a consistent schedule.  We eat at the same times. We sleep at the same times.  Sure, we might go late by 30 minutes or so on occasion but my kids know when nap time is, and they very rarely argue with me.  Those are really great benefits to nap time.  But do you know what else is really great about nap time?

Moms need nap time too.

When I had two kids under 2 (like way under 2!) I found out that with multiple children nap time goes quickly (even when it’s 3 hours!).  Just when you think you have enough time to put away all the laundry AND rest, you get those towels put away and BAM! Kid awake.  So I made a rule for myself.  I don’t do chores during nap time.  I read.  I watch TV. I shower. I blog.  I eat.  I rest.  Sometimes I craft or do a project I want to do, but nap time is MY time.  It’s how I don’t burn out.  It’s how I can be excited when my kids wake up and not exhausted.

So when do I do chores? When my kids are awake! They help or “help” but they don’t think a magic fairy comes in and does the chores.  But that’s a post for another time. The point of this post is my rest (my sanity, my mood, my body) is more important than the chores.  Dishes, laundry, cleaning toilets can all be done with awake kids or by someone else (cue world’s best husband!).  Rest cannot.  And a tired, worn thin, cranky mama is good for no one! Remember “If Mama Ain’t Happy… Ain’t Nobody Happy!”

All this isn’t to say it’s easy.  I have to fight for my nap time schedules.  I have to fight against errands. Against well-meaning grandparents.  Against really fun social events that are always scheduled right in the middle of naps.  Against two year olds.  Against crying babies.  I have to fight for my nap schedule.  But it’s worth every bump and bruise I get along the way.  I work very hard to keep us all on nap schedules.

I sometimes let nap time rules slide and I usually regret it.  But I never regret a long quiet rest time in the middle of an otherwise crazy day!

My Joy Is Here

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Since Ben’s birth, I’ve noticed signs of Postpartum Depression and Anxiety like I did after Matthew was born.

In a way, it’s been easier this time because I’m not also dealing with grief and physical pain at the same time. But in another way, it’s been more difficult because I have two other people to take care of.  I can no longer stay in bed for hours and hours.  When I cry, my sensitive sweet big kid sees me and asks me what is wrong.  When I can’t get myself together enough to get out of the house, it’s my children that suffer.  When my anxiety level rises, the baby won’t stop sucking and the two year old won’t listen, it’s the kids who get yelled at.  This is not the mom I want to be. And I fight with all the thoughts, some truth, some lies.  I hear the thoughtless words of others, the stinging words they probably don’t even remember they said.

I can’t do this. I am not a good mom. I’m messing them up. 

I see all the signs around me telling me this is not the mom I want to be.  I want to be the fun mom.  I want to take them to every local event.  Every play date.  Every birthday party.  I want to go to the beach and the pools and the parades.  I want them to experience life.

This morning I was supposed to go to a play date with my moms group, which I’ve been attending as little as possible in the past months.  I really wanted to go.  Matthew has been craving social interaction and I wanted him to see some friends.  But suddenly this morning as I stepped out of the shower, I felt that familiar sensation… my heart tightening.  The butterflies in my stomach.  The lump in my throat. But I pressed on.  I got the kids dressed.  I did Charlotte’s hair.  I filled the water bottles.  I waited for the baby to wake up.  And the feeling did not subside.  I worried about what would happen if I took them… would I cry in public? Would I yell? Would it all be okay and we would have a great time? I worried about what would happen if I didn’t take them.  Would they cry? Would they have bad behavior this afternoon because they’ve been stuck at home all day?

I told them we couldn’t go.  They said, Okay mommy.  They ran into the back yard.  I sat in my recliner with the baby and I nuzzled his face and kissed his little mouth and my heart was calm.  All I could think was MY JOY IS HERE.

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Right here, in this house, in this very chair.  My joy is here.  I don’t need to do all. the. things. to be a good mom.  In my house, heck, even in my chair… I can give my infant the milk he needs for life.  I can give his snuggles and love and set him down on his play mat to learn about life.  In this house I can play dress up and do art work and teach my kids to read.  In this house, I can sing praise songs and say prayers.  I can show them how to be compassionate and creative and hilarious.  In this house, I can make memories and treats and forts out of old sheets.  My JOY is HERE.

Being content where I am is going to be huge for me.  I’m a mover.  I’m a doer.

But right now, I need to remember.  I am not a Human Doing.  I AM A HUMAN BEING.  And I am okay with just being right here. Right now.