Applesauce

My sweet little Lucy is six-months old (as of yesterday)!?!? While we have days that feel like they will never end, I am mystified as to how she is already half a year old! We were excited about reaching this milestone for many reasons but top on our list was FOOD!! Wednesday, Lucy and I made applesauce for her first "big girl" food....standing in my kitchen with a smiley baby staring at me as I prepped the apples, I started thinking....

If I had handed Lucy a whole apple as her first food, she would have no doubt been excited to be getting a new toy but she would not have eaten it. Without teeth or experience, she would not have been able to access the fruit or reap any of its nutritional benefits. If she had managed to get a piece of the fruit in her mouth, she likely would have choked on the chunk she wasn't yet ready to chew.

So, I cut the apples into smaller pieces. I left the peeling on because, while it can be hard to break through without teeth, it carries many nutrients not present in the rest of the fruit. I cut them into chunks and placed them into my crock pot. The only thing I added was a small amount of water. Then I turned it on and walked away. The apples remained in the crock pot for a few hours with slow, constant heat. This heat, over time, began to change the apples. They got sweeter and softer and their skin changed from a bright red color to a very muted color.

Even though the pieces were soft and smaller than a whole apple, Lucy still could not eat the apples like this.  I turned off the heat and used an immersion blender to make it smooth.  The puree looked nothing like the original apples, but it contained all the same nutrients and was now in a form she could eat.

I got to thinking...I've had apples in our home weekly since before Lucy was born, and the crock-pot as well. But it wasn't until this point, with the applesauce made and Lucy being 6 months old, that both Lucy and the apples were ready for one another.

WOW! Isn't this how God is with us? Sometimes what we think we want is right in front of us but God has to turn the heat up to make it into applesauce for us. It's not that he doesn't want us to have it, it's just that he knows we can't handle it in that form. And other times, everything we need to make the applesauce is in front of us but we aren't ready to eat it. Again, it's not that God doesn't want us to have it; this time it's that he has to get us ready for it.

I can see this truth looking back at my life. God had always given me the desire to be a wife and mom. Before meeting Paul, I was dating a guy who wanted to marry me. He even took me ring shopping and was very honest about wanting to start a family very soon. But, even though he was there saying all the right things (like the whole apples and crock pot that had been sitting in my kitchen), it wasn't in the right form. Then, I met Paul who was clearly the right one for me and we thought we were ready to be parents. However, God told us we had to wait. We weren't ready to eat the applesauce, so to speak. BUT, at the perfect moment both of us and Lucy were ready for one another.

Seems a big lesson to extrapolate out of baby food but also such an awesome way for God to illustrate it for me!

Did I Register for This?!

Registering for gifts is a comical process to me. Both when we got married and again when we were expecting Lucy, we went to stores, signed up and were handed a scanner. Then we proceeded through aisles of things that were clearly essential to survival. Through the generosity of friends and family, boxes start to arrive filled with all of these essentials and the mind starts to drift back to reality...

"This {insert random item here} is adorable and pink and just so cute but what in the world are we going to do with this?!"
"I knew where we lived when we registered and yet someone I managed to forget that we didn't have an entire extra wing for baby gear."
"You know, it's funny...now that Lucy is here, we really don't need as much as we thought we did of this and why in the world did I think we could survive with only one of these?!"

And it's not like people didn't give me advice but honestly it's different for everyone. We own three bottles and three pacifiers. There is no magic to the number 3, it's just what we ended up having and this number works for me. With only three pacifiers, we are more diligent about keeping up with them because we know there aren't a million waiting in the wings and with only three bottles we are more motivated to wash after each use so they are clean and ready for next time. I have friends who are equally successful at managing their homes with a new baby who have a dozen pacifiers or only 1--different for everyone.

Yes, registries are funny because no matter how hard we try, we don't always know what we'll need until it is upon us. I put bottles on my registry and of all the gifts we received, not a bottle was among them. This didn't phase me in the slightest because I was planning to nurse and figured we'd cross the bottle bridge in a few months once I wanted a little more freedom in my schedule. Well let's just say that this was my expectation--what I registered for in my mind...

When Lucy was 7 days old, I was still in immense pain nursing and Paul said he couldn't watch me like this anymore. He contacted a lactation consultant (who we have since dubbed the Mary Poppins of nursing--she's British and works nursing miracles) and her next available appointment was two days away. We took the appointment and she was kind enough to call us that evening to see if she could offer any support in the meantime. So it's Lucy's life, day 9: we arrive for the appointment and I sit down ready to see what wonderful pearls of wisdom she is going to give us about latching on and such. We told her that in addition to the pain with nursing, Lucy has been fussy and having some gas issues for the last few days but nothing extreme. We fed for a bit, weighed her; fed some more and weighed again. Then she said "I think her latch was definitely a problem but hopefully we have corrected that. However, I think we also have a supply issue." I think my jaw literally hit the floor. I'm sorry, we have a what?! We discussed a bit more and the phrase "supplement the nursing" sent me over the edge and I started sobbing. Yes, I know that there is nothing wrong with formula. Yes, I am aware that a lot of people have used formula and their children are high functioning and thriving. Yes, I know that my gut reaction that formula is inferior to breast milk is wrong. In retrospect, my tears were less about my feelings towards formula and more about my inability to do something I should be able to do. Her increased fussiness was hunger. For the last 4 days we had been saying "I know you're not hungry. You just ate." Well, regardless of how long she was nursing, I was only making half of the amount she needed so she was, indeed, hungry.

We left with the following gameplan:

Keep nursing as normal.. Take a supplement to increase supply.
Following each feeding, pump.
Mary Poppins would call us in 1-2 days to check on us--if my supply did not increase in the next couple of weeks, we would look at formula.

We drove home in tears. And by "we" I mean me. This was my job--my dream job. After a roller coaster journey, I finally got to be a mom and now I couldn't feed my child?! I was so defeated, felt like such a failure and just stared at my sweet baby while tears poured from my eyes. That night I fed her as normal and started to pump while Paul tried to get her to sleep. After quite a while and several different tactics, she had not calmed down at all. Paul came in and said "Maybe we should give her some formula honey, she is just not calming down." While this was a perfectly logical and rational suggestion, to a highly-emotional-recently-postpartum-low-milk-supply mom, this was earth shattering.

People, we did not even own a bottle, remember?! Then I remembered (miraculously) that we had received one in a gift bag when we set up our registry. Somehow I remembered where it was, washed it and also remembered that we had randomly received formula samples in the mail months ago. Not planning to need them, I had set them aside in case someone else I knew did. At this point tears were just freely streaming down my face with no end in site. Bleary-eyed, I stared at two seemingly equal cans of formula. The deciding factor came down to one saying "newborn" on the package and the other saying "0-12 months." Yes technically she fit in that category too, but in my hysteria, if I had to give her something other than me, "newborn" seemed superior. I wouldn't even let Paul give it to her that night because "I'm supposed to be able to feed her!" At one point I remember saying, "She's not going to need me. Anyone can give her a bottle. She doesn't need me!" As we sat in her nursery I told him that no one else was allowed to feed her a bottle--just the two of us. He politely obliged this request and attempted to encourage me.

Mary Poppins called the next afternoon and I relayed the previous nights events. She advised to keep with our original game plan to try to increase my supply and since we were clearly comfortable giving formula, we should continue that after nursing. She further encouraged that there was nothing wrong with nursing and giving formula together for as long as we decide. This was like hearing Just a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go do-own, medicine go down." I was still crying but was greatly encouraged by her words. While I still felt like I was failing my daughter, I was encouraged.

This was certainly not the end of the tears, however. Pumping was only sustainable for so long--once family was gone and Paul was back at work it was increasingly harder to convince my sweet newborn to entertain herself while mommy pumped. The dietary supplement was manageable but we soon discovered that it gave Lucy very painful gas. After all the work, we did increase my supply but still not enough to meet all of Lucy's needs. So we decided that our way of life would be to nurse and then bottle at each feeding. And I still cried....I saw friends and strangers alike nursing their babies with more than ample milk. I was happy for them but envious all the same. Why couldn't I have enough for Lucy? In tears one night, and deep into a pity party of one I said to Paul, "I guess it was foolish of me to think that after our miracle baby and easy pregnancy that I would be able to nurse with no problems, too!" Wow! I knew how ugly this comment was when I said it but typing it takes it to new realms!

Not being able to provide all that Lucy needed really shook my world. I lost all confidence in my mothering decisions (Should I feed her now? Should I change her now? Is she sleeping too long? On and on and on...). I didn't even realize how much it shook me until we had a date night with my mom's group and sweet ladies were there to watch the babies. We arrived, I fed Lucy and then left her with these sweet women. We enjoyed a very nice dinner and she was fine. It was not until this successful childcare experience that I realized that our "normal" was really normal (no air quotes needed)...normal for us. When nursing took this unexpected turn, I felt robbed of something and couldn't see past that.

Now, looking at my sweet 4-month-old daughter, I realize this was about far more than nursing and required substantial processing. About a week into the constant pumping and the supplements I was exhausted. In desperation I said "Lord, please provide me what I need to provide for my child." His response was a very relieved "I'm so glad you finally asked for my help. And I am providing what you need--just not how you thought." The truth was, no amount of my controlling or working was going to change this situation. Nothing I did caused my milk to be low, it just was. While she went a few days without being completely satisfied, she was not starving. I was focusing on my ability, or lack thereof, to feed my child when really I was missing the fact that, on my own, I can't do anything for my sweet Lucy. The only way I can take care of her and meet her needs is by first going to Christ to be filled up. It is only then that I have anything to pour out to her or anyone else.

I was visiting with one of the nursery teachers at church. She shared with me about her own miracle baby. Like us, she wasn't supposed to be able to get pregnant and God blessed her with a son. While pregnant, she told a friend how ill-equipped she felt to be a parent. Her wise friend responded "Maybe that's why God chose you for this baby--because He knew you'd need to rely on Him to do it." Whoa. I had to let that sink in for a moment: I can't do anything or be anything Lucy needs without Christ and perhaps He used nursing to keep me on my knees?!

This has also been a very humbling experience. I have passed quite a bit of judgment in my day about other moms and the choices they have made. Perhaps, like my nursing experience, it wasn't their choice at all. Perhaps there are painful circumstances, disappointing details or simple specifics that I do not know. Perhaps God is taking them through a situation that will bring them closer to Him--He loves us each too much to reveal Himself to all of us in the same way. Perhaps I should be more concerned about Him in my life than judging how He shows up to others.

Yes, I'd say this was definitely about far more than nursing.....and just as we settled into our normal with eating, my very attentive (ahem...distractable) little girl is finding nursing to be more of a chore. We're adjusting our plan daily but this has not come without tears (mostly on my part). Tears of disappointment and sometimes frustration and recurrent feelings of failure. But as painful as this is, keeping me on my knees will always be for my own good....and subsequently will be good for LucyBug!

Day 914: Welcoming Lucy Kate into the World

914 days from our first date, June 6, 2012, we welcomed out sweet Lucy Kate Nixon into the world! As I sit here tonight watching her sleeping in her swing, it is still very surreal that she is ours and really is here to stay. While the last 2, almost 3 weeks have meant less sleep than I'm used to and hormones crazier than I ever thought possible, it is all 100% worth it when I see that sweet face.

The hospital had blankets covered in dinosaurs. While there were some purple and  pink ones, we had to add a bow to girly it 

We are totally in love with our precious daughter and are praising God for this gift! Lucy is a good mix of both of us and we never realized how many photos one could take of the same child sleeping or making faces!! While we are still adjusting and navigating this awesome life change, we are also looking forward to and praying all that God has planned for her life. Her mere existence tells us that He is BIG and powerful; the perfection of her creation (tiny hands, sweet toes, adorable nose, big blue eyes, cute grins...) tells us that He took great care in forming her! No guarantees on how often I'll be able to carve out blog time but I'll do my best. If you are interested in her birth story, keep reading. If not, that's ok, too. :-)

I woke up Tuesday June 5, 2012 sobbing because I still was not in labor. Instead I had been up about a dozen times throughout the night to go to the bathroom. Each time I rolled out of bed I was annoyed that nothing was contracting and my water had not broken. In the wee hours of the morning, I got back in bed and just grinned. I remember thinking, "Lord, are we having this baby today?" When the sun was coming up and alarms were going off to summon us to work again, I just lost it. "Paul, why won't she come out?! I need her to be out of here!" In my dramatic brain, the fact that I had not gone into labor overnight clearly meant that we were destined for the induction on the 11th.

We both went to work like normal. At work, I continued my extra-frequent trips to the bathroom and just in case my early morning thought panned out, I made sure to toss my phone in my pocket each time. I sat down to eat my lunch and after one bite quickly texted Paul to toss it and grab Chick-fil-a instead. It seemed that the pasta salad had not lasted as long as I had anticipated and was past the point of consumption. So I decided that it was a Chick-fil-a day for me as well and headed that direction. 

Still being annoyed with my lack of labor, I decided that I had earned fries and a Coke Zero. Back at work, I commented to a coworker "Maybe the caffeine will make her hyper and she'll break my water?!" That was 1:45pm. At 2:15pm I was taking another trip to the bathroom. I stopped to chat briefly with a coworker and then took one step and felt very strange. In my head, I thought "I've never peed in my pants before, this is strange." When I got to the bathroom, I realized that maybe it was my water that broke but having never done this before, and having already resigned to the fact that we were going to be induced, I wasn't sure. And of course, this was the one bathroom trip of the day where my phone was still on my desk. I walked quickly back to my desk, grabbed my phone and headed for the break room. I called Paul and told him to leave because I thought my water had just broken. Then I called the doctor's office and explained what happened. The nurse said to head directly to labor and delivery. I grabbed my things and told my coworker that my water broke but I wasn't feeling any pain so I was going to drive myself to the hospital (yes, many have already told me how unwise this decision was....noted for the next time). 

The triage nurse noticed my wet jeans and decided we could skip the initial evaluation so we headed for a delivery room. I still wasn't feeling anything. Paul got to the hospital about 15 minutes after I got checked in and changed and we contacted our families to let them know this baby was on her way! When the nurse checked me, I was at 3cm (I had been at 2cm since 36 weeks and 80% effaced since 37 weeks). Family and friends started to arrive and we spent a few hours visiting as they watched the contractions on the screen--contractions I still was not feeling at all. Occasionally I would feel some tightness but nothing painful. About 8pm, everyone headed out to get some dinner. This was my chance to take another bathroom break in my rather breezy hospital gown. Going to the bathroom and standing helped to make my contractions more regular and I started to feel them. My doctor stopped by about 8:20pm to check on me and let me know that I could have an epidural whenever I wanted one. Since I was progressing, he didn't see any need to augment my labor with pitocin at this time (he wasn't on call so one of his partners would actually be delivering Lucy). 

I continued to breathe through the contractions until just before 9pm. One contraction was bearable and the next one was more than I could take. I was chatting with Paul one moment and the next, "Ok, Lucy, mommy is all done. You have to do the rest on your own." By the time the anesthesiologist arrived (about 9:20pm) my knees were giving out and I was sobbing through each contraction. 9:30pm brought the sweetest relief I can describe. The nurse said she'd check me at 11:30pm to evaluate my progress. She also suggested trying to get some sleep because "you never know if you'll push for 5 minutes or 3 hours." I got in a couple of cat naps and at 11:30pm she said I was at 8.5cm, 9cm with a contraction. 

Our family returned to the room to visit some more since I couldn't sleep. About 12:15am I started getting fidgety and was feeling twinges of pain on my left side. Everyone headed back to the waiting room and Paul got the nurse. I had been laying on my right side since I got the epidural because laying on my left was very uncomfortable. Epidurals work with gravity so more of the meds were on my right side. The nurse said that I was probably complete so before checking me she wanted to set up the delivery table. She got that set up, called the doctor and told him my progress. "Sure. We'll do some practice pushes and I'll call you back when we are ready." That was a little after 12:30am. She then told me were going to do some practice pushes. Umm, I'm sorry, what?!? Practice pushes?!?! I was shocked we were already pushing! Less than 10 minutes after calling the doctor the first time, she called him back and said "We're ready for delivery. Yes, really." We were all shocked at how quickly this was progressing since it was my first baby. (Apparently my Coke Zero really did the trick.) 

The doctor arrived and told me to push through the next contraction. Since I couldn't feel anything from the waist down, the nurse told me when to start and Paul helped push on my back. At one point, after pushing with all my might and not feeling anything at all, I yelled "Is this doing ANYthing?!" The doctor and nurse looked at me like I was insane. He said, "One more push and she's out." WHAT?!?! How is this possible? Didn't we just start this process!?! I pushed for less than 15 minutes, through 6 contractions and then I heard the best noise on the planet. I will never forget that first cry and then seeing that perfect, crying baby laying on my chest. Paul got to cut the umbilical and I cried as I heard her cry and realized that our daughter had arrived! Yes, at 1:01am on 6/6/12 Lucy Kate had indeed arrived....all 7lbs 4oz, 20 3/4 inches of her! We could not be happier!!

This was not her favorite part, apparently.

She was ready to snuggle, I think.

She got to cry, so I thought I'd take a turn too!

First family photo!
You can't see it here, but Lucy and I had a shirt made for Paul that said
"Lucy's daddy" on the back and had tiny little pink footprints on the front. 

Lucy meeting her people for the first time!

Surprises, Waiting and Life Lessons Learned from Pregnancy

Our sweet Lucy is due in just 7 days! That's really NOT that long in the grand scheme of things--but sometimes I miss the grand scheme of things;-)

Truthfully, pregnancy has been full of surprises for me. I expected all the symptoms, ailments, weight gain and really expected 40 weeks of being uncomfortable in one way or another. I was super surprised to only have nausea for about 2 weeks at the beginning. Even though I wasn't surprised at how my body changed to accommodate this growing baby, I was surprised at how soon in pregnancy those changes occurred. While there have been hormonal mood swings and crying at the smallest things, even my husband would admit that it hasn't been bad at all. Food cravings never sent me on a quest for random out of season fruit or banana and pickle sandwiches; instead I've had a recent craving to eat more ice cream! My most consistent symptom has been lethargy and that simply means more naps--WIN!! And for a girl who has always struggled with her weight, the pregnancy weight gain has been healthy but minimal. I say all of this not to boast or brag but to say how thankful and surprised I have been by the ease of this pregnancy--something I know not every pregnant woman experiences.

In addition, it has flown by in record speed! That was until someone flipped a switch at week 37 and time started moving like molasses. Overnight, there were aches, pains and soreness coupled with not sleeping soundly, which exacerbates everything. Plus I was overtaken by a desire to meet this baby God picked to put in our lives. At first, the impatience started as a joke after we installed the car seat in the car. Now we had all the "essential" items for bringing home baby so naturally, she had the green light to come into the world. But, as the aches increased, so too did the impatience.

Paul and I had decided long ago that our "birth plan" was to simply have a baby. We have both confidence and trust in our OB and are comfortable with the information we've gotten on where we'll deliver and what that process will look like. We know that we want it to be just the two of us in the room when she is born and other than that, we didn't have anything else in our plan (which is, again, surprising for a control freak like me).

I was excited about how much I was "letting go" of the details I know I can't control. But then, slowly, things started to fall apart. There are several family members that may not be able to be in town when she is born due to work and other reasons. While the reasons are all 100% understandable, it's disappointing nevertheless that they might not be present. And while the app on my phone is counting down with absolute certainty, I know that there's no guarantee she's coming on her due date (moving the finish line is not nice even if you've known all along there's the potential for it to move). Then add in the increased discomfort and time seemingly standing still, plus the undercurrent beneath it all--an overwhelming, indescribable desire to meet this tiny person I feel wiggling constantly; the daughter God chose me to mother and Paul to father; the tiny person whose laundry I've washed and whose room I've prepped for months.

Put all of this together with hormones and WHAM! Disappointment! And more disappointment with each continued day of waiting. And then, as any good Baptist does, pile on the guilty feelings over not being thankful enough for this amazing blessing; not being Polly Anna straight through contractions and delivery; and for not persevering in the race marked out for me! Oy!

Phew! Are you tired yet? I know I am! And God knew it, too. I left the doctor's office this morning, having heard her sweet heartbeat and being told how great everything looked, and just sobbed. Partially because of hormones and partially out of disappointment that I wasn't sent straight to labor and delivery. Instead, we scheduled an induction for 6/11 just in case she's still relaxing in there (although she still has time to make her entrance on her own terms). In the hours that followed my appointment this morning, and after talking to my sweet husband (who faithfully responded with "Let's pray about this, sweetie.") and my mom (who can transport herself back and know in an instant how I'm feeling) I heard the Lord ask "WHY are you disappointed?"

Hmmmmmm.....WHY? Why am I really disappointed?

1) Even though we really don't have a vision of how her birth day will go, apparently there have been some assumptions I've made in my head and/or my heart about how it will look. Thus, the uncertainties wrapped up in any birth are threatening these assumptions I've made.
2) I really want to prove that first babies can and do sometimes come before their due dates. People keep telling me I'm foolish for entertaining this idea. Truthfully, there are equal numbers of people telling me that first babies always come early and first babies always come late and equal number of people who have experienced each extreme. Neither is any more foolish than the other.
3) As mentioned above, there is this overwhelming, indescribable desire to meet this tiny person. God has blessed us beyond measure with her already and I've never even held her in my hands. It is an honor to have been chosen as her parents and I just can't contain my excitement--I want it NOW.

And the response I got back, once I came to these wonderfully unattractive, controlling conclusions above? "STOP and let me do this." Hmmmm...seems like he's told me this before?! Truth be told, this is my go-to lesson from the Lord. And honestly, our path to parenthood was a HUGE hurdle in this lesson for me. Through our journey, I learned very quickly how to let go and let God because there was NO other option. And I think I was riding the wave from that lesson for the first 37 weeks of this pregnancy. And then, BOOM! Coasting wasn't enough anymore and I crashed.

The life lesson, you ask? Coasting is not a choice. Coasting is not enough. Coasting is not sufficient for a daily walk with the Lord. I know Lucy is going to have her own "life lesson" that God is going to teach her throughout her life regardless of the situation at hand. I pray, however, that I can be open enough with her to share the unattractive parts of my faith, the times when I coast and crash and all the times in between for her to see authentic, imperfect faith in her mother. I pray that in doing this, she will remember me not for the things I lack but for the things I allowed God to perfect in me.

Am I still overwhelmingly ready to meet her? Ummm, yes!
Am I still disappointed that I'm not holding her right now? Definitely!
Do I still want to prove that first babies can come before their due date? Pridefully, yes?
Am I thankful that God had me crash from my coasting before she arrived rather than collapse in a puddle shortly after her birth? Without question, yes!

Do I trust that God really is in control of my life and really does have my best interests at heart? 100%, no questions asked, YES--the concept is fully grasped (i.e., I know this is the right answer), it's the execution that's a bit amiss (i.e., living daily, no matter the circumstance, reciting this truth)--and thus, this is the exact place where my God is meeting me now.

Mother's Day Reflections

Wow!! I was shocked to see that I have not posted anything since January?!? Not sure how that happened except that time has been flying by and the fact that we are 28 days from our due date is absolutely insane!! I am so ready to meet my sweet Lucy Kate and hold her in my arms! This Sunday is Mother's Day and it got me thinking back to Mother's Day of last year. I sent a text to a few close friends of mine wishing them a Happy Mother's Day and received some very sweet responses back. Two in particular touched my heart because they wished me a Happy Mother-to-be Day, knowing that my heart was aching for a child of my own. Each of these friends, encouraging me in their own ways, told me that they were praying for the children God had for us! These messages were sweet, encouraging and brought tears to my eyes because I had no idea when God was going to make me a real mom...

You know the story from there.....emotional roller coaster and the shock of a lifetime at a positive pregnancy test. And now, a month away from our due date and it's come again: Mother's Day. Except this time, I'm a mom?! Lord, how did that happen so fast? Last year it felt like an eternity away and this year it feels like I blinked and it happened?! I have often heard in bible lessons that God's days are not our days and his timing is not our timing (ummm...understatement of the year). God doesn't ever tell us that we will have a, b or c at a specific time and while he created the heavens and the earth in seven days, this was likely not seven 24-hour periods of time. I know God's timetable is all his own, yet I am still surprised, shocked and blown-away when I see HIS plan come to fruition.

Days after getting a positive pregnancy test, still waiting on confirmation from the doctor's office so we could celebrate or grieve, I had a heart-to-heart with the Lord. I was crying and so scared that this was a trick from Satan to get our hopes up only to have it ripped away. Sitting there, drowning in my fear, my heavenly Father told me something so profound I find myself still processing pieces of it. He told me that even if we didn't get to meet this baby this side of Heaven, we were parents. He had answered our prayers and we were parents. Then came the even more profound statement from God, "Rachel, this baby is really mine. No matter how long you get this baby, if you ever get to meet this baby or not, this is a loan from me to you." This message certainly didn't turn off the tears but it did change their origin. I was still scared that the doctor might call and say we weren't pregnant after all, but my tears weren't coming from fear anymore. Instead, they were coming from a realization that God had answered our prayers even if the outcome wasn't what I had anticipated.

I have returned to this heart-to-heart often since October. A few times when something didn't feel right or I had a new symptom that scared me, the fear of her not being okay has crept back into my mind. And no matter what, I hear His message echoing "You are parents because I made you parents. Let me take care of all my children--you, Paul and this baby."

This year, for Mother's Day, I can't hold my daughter in my arms but I am holding her! Because of this gift from the Lord, I'm a real mommy!! And this mommy is praying that even after she is in my arms, I remember the words from my God "Rachel, this baby is really mine. No matter how long you get this baby, if you ever get to meet this baby or not, this is a loan from me to you."  I started reading Hopeful Parenting by David Jeremiah and he puts it this way:

"Our children are not our possessions; they belong to God. We are merely stewards of their tender souls for a short time--basically, for twenty years. We are wise to give them back to God when he gives them to us. Then we will be able to enjoy them as ours in a way that's otherwise impossible."

I wish all moms out there a very happy Mother's Day! Those who have experienced holding their babies in their arms; those who have seen them off to college; those who have watched them get married and experienced the joy of watching their babies become parents; those who will meet their babies for the first time in Heaven; those who got the privilege of meeting and know their babies and will be reunited with them in Heaven; those whose children are on this earth but haven't gotten to their home yet...Happy Mother's Day! Praying it's a day of celebration and praise, filled with shouts of JOY!!

36 weeks and counting!!

All His Promises

I was driving home today from work and popped in a CD of new songs we are working on in choir. Some we have reviewed in rehearsals so I was scanning them to get a taste of all the CD had to offer; listening to the first portion of each song and moving along. Perhaps it was traffic, the cadence of this one song or most likely divine intervention but when I came to a song titled "All Your Promises" I couldn't move past it. The lyrics are simple and yet profound:

The Lord is good those who wait and depend upon him

His lovingkindness never changes

His compassions never fail, never fail

You have kept all your promises, all your promises

You are faithful

You have kept all your promises, all your promises

So we trust in you

So we trust in you

Your word is light unto my path when I cannot see it

Your name, the rock on which I stand, will not be shaken

Ever strong, ever true

You have kept all your promises, all your promises

You are faithful

You have kept all your promises, all your promises

So we trust in you

So we trust in you

You will never leave, never forsake us

Mighty Savior, King, author of our salvation

You will never leave, never forsake us

Mighty Savior, King, author of our salvation

You have kept all your promises, all your promises

You are faithful

You have kept all your promises, all your promises

So we trust in you

So we trust in you

We will trust in you

All Your Promises, 

God is So Good, First Baptist Church Woodstock

(c) 2012 Prism Music, Inc

I was moved to tears hearing these words, I was overwhelmed by the truth in this song and I was flooded with memories of our journey this past year. Many, many friends were also brought to mind who are waiting for God to answer their prayers or struggle with an answer to prayer that is unexpected, uncomfortable or unwanted. As I sat for weeks and months unable to get through a day or even a church service without crying, I felt guilty. Guilt that I wasn't trusting, guilt that I wasn't seeing God move in this, guilt that I wasn't embracing the now, guilt that I didn't always feel like praising His name and honestly, guilt that I was hurting. Through tears today, hearing this song, I was overcome by the TRUTH that my tears weren't doubting the words of this song. In fact, the simple idea that the lyrics above are true was the motivation to many of my tears. I knew he was faithful, I knew he wouldn't fail but the waiting still hurt. I knew He had kept all his promises but I didn't have the strength to praise. I've mentioned before, I knew early on that I wouldn't trade this path despite it not being the path I anticipated. As this song resonated in my ears and my heart I realized something new today:

If we had gotten pregnant the first month we tried, or even in the first few months, I think I would be just as excited as I am now. I think I would be picking out nursery fabrics and shopping for baby clothes. I think I would cherish each sonogram picture as I do now. And, I think I would still smile each time I felt this sweet, wiggly baby girl jump on what I can only imagine is a trampoline in my womb. BUT, if we hadn't been brought to what felt like the bottom, if we hadn't walked this tear-stained road, if we hadn't been brought to a place of  complete dependence on Him for each moment, I would not think the same about God. Did you catch that, I wouldn't have felt the same about God!?! This was a staggering realization to me! 

If I impart nothing else to our sweet Lucy, I pray that I am able to communicate that God is always there, always keeps his promises and He is always worthy of our trust. Scripture guarantees our salvation if we accept Christ as savior. It certainly doesn't state anywhere "Rachel, I promise you will be a mom." BUT, through my tears, my struggle, my inability to do anything but listen, God promised me motherhood. And because "His lovingkindness never changes and His compassions never fail", He has fulfilled that promise. 

You know what else God did? He let me sit and be upset for a while. He allowed me the space to feel the hurt, to feel the disappointment, to be mad at him and to just cry on his shoulder into the wee hours of the morning. That, my friends, is something I will never forget. He will probably have to teach me to wait on His timing many more times in my life but written on my heart is the character of my Heavenly Father that kept his promise despite my tears and my honesty. Embedded in my memory is a God that was there in church, there when I couldn't go to church, there at three in the afternoon and three in the morning. I cannot express how thankful I am for the blessing of motherhood--the JOY I have experienced already is indescribable. But almost more than that, I am thankful for God bringing me so close to Himself, I couldn't help but come face to face with His character described in these song lyrics.

Pregnancy Update:

It's a girl!! The newest Nixon will be Lucy Kate!! 

As of today we are 21 weeks along...over halfway there! Insane!! Lucy is estimated to be about 13 1/2 ounces and 10 1/2 inches from head to toe. Maternity pants are a must now; maternity tops are still optional.  As of tonight, I am the very proud owner of preggo yoga pants--didn't think yoga pants could get any better--just did!!

I felt her move for the first time on January 2nd and both Paul and my mom felt her kick just a couple of weeks after that. Now, I feel her jumping, moving and kicking all the time and I'm starting to notice a pattern of when she is still and presumably napping (this is an answered prayer because the Nixons like their naps...let's start this habit now).

Thank you Lord for our sweet little miracle!

Paul is outnumbered now! Bring on the PINK!

That's her....our daughter, Lucy (at 20 weeks)! Technology is crazy!!
(3D/4D profile-she is looking to the left)