Abortion

In order to write this post I took a peek at the Planned Parenthood site. There you will find loving open arms who will happily encourage you as you plot the murder of an inconvenient "fetus". They phrase things so beautifully...it would be easy to be sucked into that death trap. They warn the reader about "anti-abortionists" who "claim" that there is such a thing as "post-abortive depression" which is similar to Post-natal depression. They claim that most women feel relief once the abortion is complete. They attempt to salve any fears and calm any quaking. In the list that they have describing why women have abortions, women who don't want their babies is number one on the list. Later as they are describing what occurs in the abortion, they point out that the fetus doesn't (probably and most likely, as far as they know) feel any pain until after 28 weeks gestation, so be sure to get the abortion before that time. Interesting, as far as I know cancerous tumours don't feel individual pain at any point in their existence and I don't think anyone would feel the need to have that pointed out.

I find it disgusting that in a society that claims to look out for the rights of children there is the legalized slaughter of children. By showing a concern about the pain of the fetus, Planned Parenthood betrays themselves. If a pregnant woman is murdered and her fetus dies as well, that is tried as a double homocide. Interesting that if the baby is wanted it's a baby from the time is conceived. If it is unwanted, it is a fetus and can be carved out at your earliest convenience. Dear child you have rights only as long as you are wanted.

I feel the weight of millions of babies that are defensless and the one person that thay have to defend them has the legal right to have them carved or sucked into a million pieces. Some mothers have the legal right to have their babies heads smashed as soon as it appears...What are we to do against the tide of all-consuming societal hedonism? I would brandish a sword if I could to defend the defensless. I know it wouldn't help. I ,myself, am an undeniable hedonist. I pity women that are sucked into the lie that infaticide is okay. I desperately wish that there was something to do. As a believer in Christ, it is my duty to care and to love. I don't hate the women that use this means to return to a life of immediate normalcy, but I don't think that there are many women who go through it unscathed. Every woman is marked by her children whether they survive or not. A death is a death. It grieves me that Planned Parenthood will not acknowledge that the murders that they help commit will have an effect on a woman.

Someone to blame

I heard about the Virginia Tech killings when my broken hearted father called me. He delivered the sad news with a slight quiver in his voice. I knew he was thinking of all the dads who wouldn't have their "babies" coming home for the summer holidays. A grief that parents don't want to even try to comprehend.
The situation is bad. One of the things that makes me saddest is the desperation of the media to find someone to string up. Who is to blame for tragedies such as this? How could anyone have known? Did his right to own a gun really have any impact on his intent? Doesn't it seem like he would have been a able to get a gun whether they were legal or not? Drugs are illegal and yet they are used prolifically, if someone really wants them. Would that really have made any difference at all? Do the grieving families really give a crap about the politics of gun control right now?
I wish that the families could be left to grieve without being caught up in a blame game. Their grief will not be eased by knowing that the university stuffed up and that the police stuffed up and that someone is getting fired for not having given Cho counseling. They are suffering deeper than any of those issues can touch.
The media manipulates our shock, grief, and outrage at the depravity of man by channeling our emotions into their own agenda. "See what the guns do?" they say. But guns didn't do it. Whether guns are legal or not, people would still die by them. Banning guns is the issue of the media, the issue of politics. Once again, the media is heartlessly using heartbreak to create controversy at a time when tears would suffice. They care about nothing but the political party they are serving at the time.

My prayers are with the families that are grieving this terrible loss including Cho's family. May it never happen again.

Parenting and such thereof

You plan for 9 months. The day comes and your plans are shot to heck in beautiful sparkles of unknown-ness. All of a sudden your heart is ripped from your chest and tied to the wrist of a tiny little clueless bundle. He grins and you hurt with the beauty of it. He rolls for the first time and nothing matters in your world but that one masterful acheivement. He hurts and you experience pain beyond your wildest imaginings. He reaches for you and there is nothing but softness and warmth and baby-scents in the air. Parenting is unfathomable beauty and pain bound up in one little uncontrollable being. You can guard and protect him, but only a little. And so the wound in your chest never heals...Your heart will never return...and there's nothing you can do about it.

Breasts in Public

I read an article the other day discussing women's right to breast feed in public. Evidently there is yet another group of people who are standing alone against public opinion. Some women are demanding that they have the right to breast feed in public because it is "natural" and because breast feeding is best for the baby. I don't argue that breast feeding isn't natural or even that it is best for the baby. However, I don't think that women should feel comfortable letting thier girls hang out anywhere they feel like. I'm not against breastfeeding in public. It can be done modestly and in a way that does not make everyone around feel desperately uncomfortable. I once witnessed a yummy mummy as she exerted her right to breastfeed in public while wearing a flesh coloured tube top she let her breast hang there, unattached to a baby, for a whole minute while chatting to her girlfriends. She was facing the restaurant. I was very uncomfortable with it. If she had even pulled her top up while she chatted it would have been fine.

Now the argument that women should be able to breastfeed like that in public simply because it is natural is a ridiculous argument. Vaginal discharge is natural, normal, and healthy. But I still wear pants and underwear. So sporting baby feeders like an accesory because it is normal and natural and healthy is silly. All a woman has to do is endeavor to be covered when the baby is not attached. It that too much for those of us in the general public to ask?

So please, breast feed, because as we all know Breast is Best, but maybe just pull up that tube top in between times.

In Defense

I am a stay at home mother. I do it because my mom stayed at home with us and I really valued that. I do it because I think it is best for Leif. And, yes, I think it is best if all mothers can stay home with their children. Leif went from sitting to standing in a second and I missed it because I was looking away, how much more would I have missed if I was away the whole day? I find parenting a challenging role. Someone asked me if I wanted a part-time job for some stimulation, and I answered that I had all the stimulation I needed. Which is true. If I wanted a break from stimulation maybe I'd get a job. (The woman who asked me this worked in administration in a hospital...I almost asked her if she needed some outside stimulation...) Life would be so much easier if I only had to worry about me for a solid portion of the day...Just to leave the house for a minute I have to change a nappy, make sure he's fed, make sure I have a bag of stuff to have on the ready, make sure that bag has all the stuff that I might need in it, I have to make sure I have my wallet and keys, and then we're off...but wait, something smells...let's start all over. And I love it. I'm so glad that I can be here with him. But some days I do need a break from all the stimulation.

Meandering

I want to change the world. I want a lot of people at my funeral. I want it to be said of me that I was "Barnabas" a "son" of encouragement. I want to go to Africa. I want to learn to make stain glass windows, and sew. I want to relearn all the higher level maths I used to know. I want to be willing to help, sacrificially (and learn how to spell.) I want to learn another language, fluently. I want a little girl. Boy would be fine too. I want to be patient, and wise.

I love my son, I love my husband and my family. I love my God. I love my God.

I love freedom. I am grateful beyond words for my friends.

I am nearly 28 but still feel like I'm 17.

I get sad sometimes that I'm so far from my parent's and siblings. Abused children around the world break my heart.

Parenthood

It's been a long time. I've thought so many things that I wanted to blog, but never the chance. Now, here I go. I've seen amazing things since my last post (whinge) and have come back to this country changed. I suppose if you are traveling like you should you should be changed. I realized going home, that since leaving the U.S., my home country, that I have now rendered myself homeless. The U.S. is not as easy as it used to me. I am a foreigner in my own country. I am a foreigner here as well. What's a girl to do? It's a little bit freeing, but also a little sad. I have no where to really belong. No where that is really home. Who knows what God will do with my new found homelessness.

I've been learning so much about parenthood latetly. I have a child now who is capable of independant movement. Help God! Leif is busy. He used to snuggle, now he makes sure to maintain an elbow firmly planted in my chest in the case that I try to sneak a cuddle. He laughs when I try to tell him "no". I suppose if I spoke to him solely in raspberries he might understand. He seems to have developed a highly complicated communication system based on raspberries. Depending on how his brow is furrowed, his body positioning and the length of the particularly raspberry it could mean, "hey give me more of that" or "Um, did I ask you to change my nappy?" Leif is getting a new batch of teeth, well, that's my guess anyway, so he was up all nite in misery. So was I. Leif joined Chad and I in bed last nite, and it seems like we have a sleep crawler on our hands.

With Leif's new levels of activity and his lack of naps during the day, I get nothing done. I feel a little frustrated creatively. I have so many projects lined up to the end of time. Chairs to be refinished and painted, walls to be painted, paintings to be painted, jewelry to be made, Bible studies to be done, lessons to be planned, rooms to be reorganized...

I'm tired.

Parenting is not for the feint of heart. Don't think I spelled "feint" right.

Over and out.

Guilt...A New Kind of Blanket

Funny how the post preceding this one is so pleasant to read...so true, yet not my current state. No, within minutes of acknowledging my surge of gratitude I am plummeted into a sea of a different emotion. Guilt. Chad, Leif and I are going on a wham-bam-thank-you-maam kind of trip to the US. I have dreaded planning it because I knew that we would not be able to see all the people that we want to see...We've had to prioritize and that always means unhappiness. So, now our trip is planned and of course people are unhappy with the results. Some are more merciful than others in their unhappiness. I have been accused of a gammit of things...
My guilt is keeping me up at nite and it's spreading to everything. I can't eat anything without feeling desperately guilty about my bad choice in food, too much sugar, not enough veggies. I don't exercise enough and spend too much money. I don't spend as much quality time as I should with Leif...or do I spend too much time with him?
I feel squashed by it. I know that it's not good or even justified, but how do you get out of it? I want to run and hide until May...
I want to get on hands and knees and beg for mercy and understanding. I know that people want to meet Leif and I wish that we could see everyone and spend a lot of time with everyone...but it just can't be. It's funny that once you have a kid everyone wants a piece, they don't give a flip about you when you're just you, but once you get a little one...Well, that's when you're important...well actually, the little one is important... And why do we have to go to everyone? Why can't they come to us? We sacrificed a lot to get there...Why can't people see and understand that?
So...MERCY! Please!

on the flip, i'm very excited to see the people we do get to see.

I wonder if Abraham felt this way? He as called to a foreign land and went...I wonder if he yearned for home, and they yearned for him with frustration that he left...

In my defence, Chad and I were called to Australia. It has been confirmed again and again that this is where we should be. I miss my family...can't wait to see em...just hate that we're so far. I'm not sorry that we left.

Blah blah blah.

So sorry to anyone reading this.

Change

I am changed. I am not what I once was, and I am so grateful. I watched someone die and as I had my hand on her shattered shoulder God was tearing down my walls. I feel I have become capable of so much more gratitude than ever before. I have watched a friend grieve the loss of her little boy...never getting to hold him...and in my heart another wall went down.

I feel so full of thankfulness sometimes that I find it overwhelming. The old me was bitter and jaded...a whinge and a sook...so full of self pity that I could see no one outside. But I think that God is changing me...and I'm so grateful.

Daily I feel overcome that I have been allowed to keep my little boy. I don't know why some can and why some can't...but I did. Daily I thank God with tears in my eyes that I can keep him, even if it is just for know. I find myself thankful for so much more though. I am thankful to have a husband like Chad, and a friend like Rebecca. I am thankful to have parents like mine, and in-laws like I have. I am thankful for my church, and that building. I am thankful that I can walk, and that I can think clearly (sort of). We get sun, and sometimes rain...there are beautiful little birds that fly around in the park next door...

To whom much is given much is required. I mark myself as one to whom much is given. Lord help me to do what You require.

May it not take a death for you to reach a state of gratitude.

Dancing With The Drunk Man

I went to my brother-in-law's concert at a pub on Thursday nite. His band was playing a 9 pm. There in the front was a man who had obviously been hitting the boos quite hard long before the concert began. At first I found him funny...but then some guys from the crowd started playing with him. They were dancing around with him and kinda teasing him the way one would with a dog or pet monkey. My heart broke for him. He was the side show entertainment, the dancing drunken fool for an entire room and younger watchers. It made me wonder what this man was running from. What would have driven him to the place where he needed to be totally drunk on a Thursday nite?
As a side note: Todd's band "Rogue" is quite good and worth a listen for anyone interested.

WAR

War makes whiners of some and heros of others. My only hope is that when this is all over, we will recognize who is who.

Great News!

Now, at nearly four months since my beautiful little son was born I can zip and button jeans that I used to wear in my pre-pregnant days! (The fact that they are almost too tight to breath is only a side note...they button!) Whooeee!!!!

Proof of a Woman

I think that childbirth is the ultimate proof of a woman. Is she strong enough to bear the pain? Or will she break down under it and demand relief? Will she be able to stand up? How well a woman does in childbirth is a test of her mettle...Or so it seems. Her character is demonstrated, her self will, her physical strength. All are tested to the fullest. Maybe that's why a Caesarean is such a disappointment. You never get to be tested in such a fearful way. I, like many women, have wondered how I would have held up. Would I have swore a blue streak, would I have screamed, would I have demanded pain relief? I may never know how I would do...I may never have the chance to prove myself in that way...However I feel like I have let everyone down.
Before I knew I was going to have a C-section I had told someone that I was willing to have an epidural and they raised their eyebrows at me...as if to say "Oh really, so your one of THOSE kind of women." But now, I have not only chosen to have an epidural, but I also chose to have a C-section. Nevermind the surrounding circumstances, I chose to have a C-section...and now I wonder...Am I really one of those kind of women?
(Secret confessions: I actually looked forward to my C-section...I knew the date I was going to meet my little person.)

Home again Home again

We are home. Leif's surgery was Wednesday August 23. It was about 2-3 hours long. He was pale and swollen when we first saw him and remained that way for a few days. That was terrible. He also cried a whole new cry, and looked stoned out of his head. He was not himself. He was on a morphine drip...My little 3 month old son was on a morphine drip. Heartache. By day three, his morphine dose had been almost entirely reduced and Leif could focus again. He was still in heaps of pain...as you would be if your intestines were pulled out your ass. But his pain has been decreasing daily. The first spontaneous poo of his life was in the early hours of the 25th. It hurt him and was just bloody...but it's become more normal since then. We took a picture of a full nappy. He even does little farts! It's very exciting! We are home now. God has shown Himself mighty in this adventure. We prayed that Leif would not have a colostomy replaced. It was closed! We prayed that his IV would last the whole time. It did! We prayed that he wouldn't get any infections. He didn't. We prayed that he would have a quick recovery. He is!
Thank you to all who prayed...We were carried as on the wings of eagles in this time of great fear.

it's a small world

" Then the Lord answered {Erika} out of the storm. He said: 'Who is this who darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? Brace yourself up like a man; I will question you, and you will answer me...' " Job 38:1-3.

There's a comfort in knowing that I am so small and and that God is so big. When I begin to complain to Him about my woes, He reminds me who He is.

I cannot keep you

Dear Leif,
Soon you will have major surgery and they will take part of your bowel. They feel confident that things will go well...I wish I could feel that way too. I dread the idea of them taking my precious little man as I can only watch you be wheeled away. I wish I could protect you from all that they must do. I wish I could protect you from the days or weeks of discomfort. I wish I could hold your little hand as they slice you up...but Leif, I can't. I am powerless against what must happen. I must wait for years for them to come out of the surgical theatre and tell me that everything went...I must watch as you are given pain medication and no food for days. I cannot keep you from all that will happen. I will simply stand by helplessly in your pain. I cannot keep you from all this...Forgive me.

Post-natal Perfection

I was thinking about Post-Natal Depression today. I am a major candidate for it and sometimes feel stirrings of said depression. It's interesting to me the rise of depression in our society. Compared to days gone by, we have everything a person could ask for. We are fed and clothed, and have amazing conveniences. We live longer and are taller and stronger. Yet we are more depressed than ever before. I think it is because we are in a state to desire perfection...in everything. We will tolerate no mistakes to be made. There are people who have made a living off of other people's mistakes, you'll find them constantly in court battling for cash because they slipped on a recently mopped stair...Gynecologists are being forced out of business because they are constantly getting sued for mistakes. For hundreds of years mothers and babies have died in the birthing process. Modern medicine has made it seem a safe process...but, thanks to Eve, it is not safe. In days gone by mothers were grateful to have a baby, the longer it lived the more amazing. We expect our babies to be born without pain, in perfect condition. We expect a special oil to take away our stretch marks and special pills to take away our fat.
I myself have fallen pray to this need for perfection. I get depressed at the size my belly still is and that I can't breast feed. I get depressed about my son's disease that made his first 2 weeks very near every mother's worst nightmare. (I say very near because, as with all mothers the worst nightmare is to watch your child slowly fade unto death.) I feel like our time with him in the beginning was stolen. I had to wash my hands before I could even enter the room he was in. He was cut out of me, and I was pretty much stoned out of my head for the only time we had "before" the disease. I expected a regular delivery with a healthy baby who would come home with me, and people would be so happy that "It's a BOY!" and I would feed him from myself. I suppose in many ways I needed it to be perfect.
So, I guess I don't really wonder too much why so many women are stricken down with such a paralyzing mental plague. We demand perfection and will take no less.

the many faces of Jesus

I have been thinking a lot lately about what a faith with works looks like. I have contemplated the real meaning of God's love. I know that His love is almost foolish. It's the kind of love that gives even when He knows we are only using Him. His is the kind of love that does drastic things that we only mock or demean,"Oh! How sweet!" He asks us to love others in this same way. To be fools in love, and to love everyone.
I have been stricken with a new found fear that I have seen him naked on the side of the road, and said,"Go and be warmed" yet did nothing. I know I have seen him hungry and hurting and did nothing. In my piousness I could not give him a dollar when He asked. His many faces haunt me now as there is no going back.
While I was a freshman at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago I gave money to every homeless person who asked. Then as time went on I became more and more jaded, and felt that the most loving thing to do is to NOT give them money since I knew ALL of them were alcoholics and drug addicts...I lived in Chicago for a total of seven years. I walked past hundreds of people who asked me for money...I ignored them, justifying myself as I went that I really was loving them best by walking past...
Now their faces gnaw at my flesh. I am pained by my Pharisaical Christianity. I can not go back and fix it...I walked past Jesus hurting and desperate and NEVER helped. My self-righteousness helped no one, and hurt many, mostly my lover, Jesus. I now know that it is better to be thought a fool and love, than to be callous and self-protected. I pray that I could again be given the chance to love foolishly. I hope that this time, with God's help I will not fail.
I know that I will one day see the faces of all those I walked past. It will hurt and I will be deeply ashamed. I will see Jesus' eyes as his tears well up as He says,"Where were you when I was hungry?..." I know that His Grace will cover me...I hope His Grace will let me try again...

gratitude

I've been thinking, is it real gratefulness to say,"Well, at least we're not as bad off as these people." One of Leif's nurses prompted this thought process by a comment during Leif's hospital stay. She was gently reminding us, as so many have, that he was not as bad off as some of the kids, but then she followed up by saying something about not wanting to use others misfortune to feel better about ours. I thought about that everyday as I wandered the halls of the children's hospital, so many disfigured and obviously sick children. So, is it true gratitude to God for me to say, "Ah well, at least Leif doesn't have a disease that will kill him. At least he doesn't have a painful and terminal illness." I wonder what it means to "give thanks" and have an attitude of gratitude in a situation like that? How do i "give thanks" that my son has a disease that demands major surgery? How does a woman who lost her little boy to a "genetic freak accident" give thanks? How does someone give thanks at the bedside of a 6 year old who is dying of leukemia? I praise God that Leif's condition will be manageable after his surgery and that he will not die from his disease. But what if he did have a terminal illness? How would I be grateful in that situation? I try as much as possible to grieve with parent's of children in worse situations, to grieve my own son's condition, and to praise God separate from worse situations...but it is very difficult to do.

Here it comes...

I worry. All the time. Leif has a few little problems with his colostomy. I've been told that there are always a few little problems with colostomies. It's a comfort that these problems are normal, yet I still worry. I worry that Leif is sick. I worry about what could happen.
Leif is expected to have his major bowel surgery in less than 2 months. I worry about that. He is blessedly and blissfully unaware of the impending surgery. I worry that he will not survive the surgery or that there will be complications...
Can someone please tell me that all this worry is normal mother stuff? Will I still worry about him in 2 years when this is all resloved? I feel like it would be comforting to know that this is normal...then I won't resent his disease so much.

I love him so much it hurts sometimes. The idea of him enduring more pain is almost unbearable.