Chapter Five: "Our God is In Control"

I hate that sometimes. I wrote the title and immediately was like "That's such a yuppie Christian thing to say. Ugh Madalynn."

Just because something is said a lot though, doesn't mean that it isn't true. This is truth.
God is in Control.

I remind myself of that a lot, I have to. We have so many ups and downs, I got sick, Ellie has a cold and will not be staying with us this weekend (and I will miss her something fierce), Blair finally admitted how useless he feels...how he was ok with me being sick because it meant he could take care of me.

We gave ourselves permission not to be at the hospital all night. We put our trust in our son's Doctors and Nurses and I told myself all afternoon, "God is in Control." I've heard it said that He's up all night so I don't have to be.

I find amazing comfort in that thought.

Some days, this just...this just sucks. Hard. A lot. More than I can describe unless you've gone through it. Not something similar, it. This. Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome. Open heart surgery mere DAYS after being born. Do you know what newborns should do? Poop meconium, nurse at my breast, and make little sounds in the middle of the night that make me smile. They should be crying moving, wiggling, I should be changing his diapers.

My reality: I. Have. To. Wait. And pray and talk to him and rub his fuzzy little head and be away. And I can't plan a dag-on thing. I have NO idea when we get to come home. None. And even when I do find out, I won't trust it. Yesterday he was doing great, by this morning, they were doing an echo because they weren't seeing progress as he should. By this afternoon he was ok. Seriously, what the hell?

We don't go day by day. We go hour by hour.
And we wait. So much waiting.

Look though, there has been laughter. God knew that we would need laughter.

The day he had surgery his godparents came and sat with us. I love them. They crack me up and it was so good to laugh with them during that time of waiting.

Like the time my amazing mother in law and Blair's Mamaw came to bring Ellie to see us. They took us back to Front Royal to get things and boy was it an adventure. We made wrong turns. We got lost. I had to pump in the car, hysterical. I had them rolling. "Oh Hello DC, this is my boob, yup, it's happening, move alone."

Or the night I was just having a bad day. I have this weird thing right now that when I cry, I would just rather be alone. Most of the time, this happens in the shower. Blair knows. He lets me and I love that. I jump in thinking "I'll cry for a little and get it out and be done and move on." God knew that I needed laughter. Basically, with pumping, I had not been emptying myself well enough and had a knot. I worked it out in the shower and then just shot milk for a good two minutes and I laughed and laughed.

Yes. That was a story about me milking myself. You know what? I want my son to know that story some day. Because dude, it's FUNNY.

Wednesday night My amazing mother in law brought Ellie in to have dinner with us, and then she and Blair went to see Deano. When they got back I had given Ellie a bath and put her in her footie pj's. Her pj's don't have good traction. My girl LOVES LOVES LOVES the elevators, she dances in them, and tries to push the buttons. When we all got in to say good bye for the night, she ran and completely wiped out and fell on her bum and hit her head. And the three of us just laughed and laughed and laughed. (She laughed to, by the way)

Yesterday, Blair's voice randomly cracked while he was talking to one of  Deano's nurses. I thought I was going to pee my pants.

Here is why these things are so important: because God is in Control. He knew, he so so so knew that we would need to fill our time with laughter. He knew we would need to allow ourselves to laugh.

I've been thinking about that all day. I was sick and came back early and slept and prayed and talked to people. If I were in control I would have completely forgotten about Joy and Laughter.

My God is so good that He doesn't forget those things.

I've been told how strong people think I am. Suddenly, I feel it. Don't get me wrong, they did their echo today and I was terrified they would "find" something. Being strong doesn't mean you're not scared though. I think it just means that you cry when you gotta (in the shower or wherever) and then you wipe those tears and say ok. Next battle. Bring it.

There are so many people I wish I could thank. So many who have no idea what their kindnesses mean to me. My cousin was here to day, haven't seen that kid in forever, and what did I do? Fought tears and asked to drive me somewhere. Without hesitation he did. (His girlfriend is so lucky to have him...shout to Carter who has actually subscribed to my blog...you are winning, just so you know)(and so is he). My parents, Blair's parents, friends from church, my older sisters, my big brothers...strangers I've never met in person...God is using YOU all to remind me that this is not something we are fighting alone.

God is using YOU all to remind me of His unfailing wonderful Control in my life, in Blair's, in Ellie's, in my Son's.

Literally every time I start to feel discouraged SOMEONE texts me. Every. Single. Time.

I am blown away by God's control. I am blown away by His love.

I am hiding there. Sheltered in His wings. Crying and Laughing when I need to.

I am thankful. More than anyone will ever know for the way this is drawing me close to God and closer to those who love me and whom I love.

Care With A Midwife

Recently, I've received a lot of questions about what Midwife care looks like. How it works, what happens when I go, that sort of thing. So I decided to take a small visual journey and show you all how my midwife works (with her permission of course! She loves my blog...:) )

I once wrote a post about how I got to take pictures and witness a birth, and I wrote about how awesome it was. I would link you to it, but internet here is not so fun, plus there's a storm. My midwife was the midwife that attended and helped that Momma in her journey. I loved watching her work. It was exciting and I agreed and loved all the choices she made for that Momma. I knew that one day, hopefully, Lord Willing, I would have her as my midwife.

Well, the Lord was willing, even last June when we found out we were pregnant the first time. Doran saw me through one of the worst times in my life. She sent me encouragement and love, and that is something that I will forever be thankful for. When we found out we were pregnant the second time, I felt that I could confess my fears to her without being judged. When I got sick and couldn't eat, she was nothing but loving and encouraging through that as well.

Me at our 38 week appointment! 

Doran is a CPM, Certified Professional Midwife and her practice is called Blessings Gods Way. She works out of Strasburg Virginia and has an adorable yellow cottage where she serves woman. Her website is incredible and can explain a lot of the questions that anyone might have.

I love visiting her. I love seeing her smiling face, knowing she's not only excited but that she already loves my little one, me, and my husband. Her cottage is warm and inviting and it always smells good.

Every time I visit Doran, I pee in a cup. I take a test strip and test that, and we look at it. The cool thing (for me at least) is that we look at it together. Together.  I like that I got to learn what the colors were telling me. I knew what was happening and I got to take part in it. That's neat.

The next thing we do, is we talk. I sit on her glorious comfy bed provided for us Momma's, and we just chat. How have things been going? How do I feel? Have I been swelling? How much water am I drinking? Do I have any questions? What's going on this week? I ask her about birth stories I've heard, I tell her how my toes only swell rarely and how I drink tons of water. I tell her about my family all coming in for the weekend, and she reminds me that I need to take it easy and rest when I'm tired. Another neat thing about it all, is that I an bring friends and family. My mother in law, Mommy, and two of my wonderful sister in laws got to come to appointments with me. My very best friend, birth photographer, and Ellie's Godmother were at our 36 week home appointment. Special people who uplift me and love me. 

She records all of my information in charts. 

Her assistant Jodi, they found out about this post and needed to "look like they were doing something", even though they always do!

Usually after chatting for a bit and writing down any information that's needed, they take my blood pressure and check my pulse. I think maybe there was ONE time that I had a high blood pressure, and immediately Doran said "Some one's a little riled up today, everything ok?" She was checking on me. Wanted to know if there was anything going on. At that time, there was, however, this has been resolved and my blood pressure has returned to what it is normally for me.

After those things are all taken care of, we move on to checking my fundal height with our little owl friend.

Fundal height measures how big my uterus is, to make sure that little booger is growing about where she needs to be.

After that is recorded, we listen to Lil Girl! When she's real little, we listen with a Doppler, but as she's bigger now, we listen with a fetal-scope. I love this part, even though my lil girl likes to hide from Doran. It's like she gets shy around her, which is silly, because the woman will be helping Blair catch her.

This part is really neat because once we find her little heartbeat, everyone gets to listen to her, they want. Angela and Karynne, my brother's wives, both got to hear Ellie's heartbeat, even though it can be a little tricky, and Ellie's Meme, my mother in law, got to hear it as well. And of course, I get to hear her as well, which always makes me smile a little.

So that is what an appointment looks like! We spend time together and I love it. I don't feel like it's impersonal or like she doesn't know me. Doran is not only my midwife and a professional, but she's my friend. She makes me feel calm and we have a lot of the same values. She serves the same God I do. That alone makes us sisters in Christ, which means a lot to me.

I've been asked when I'm supposed to call her, as in, what do I do when I go in to labor. Basically, I keep her informed. I've tried very hard to be in tune with my body, and nothing feels like something is too small to tell her. Even the other day I was kinda sorta unsure about something but needed to tell her anyways, and she was perfectly fine with it. Fun fact: I talk with her over Facebook chat. We're facebook friends. It's real life. :)

If my water breaks or my contractions become more intense and consistent, it's time to call her. I let her know about things like my mucus discharge (it happens while you're pregnant, just saying) and how I feel. We talk about lots of things, and sometimes she has to ask me awkward questions that most other people wouldn't ask. My favorite was when my sisters in law WERE at our appointment and she needed to know if um Blair and I...well...if we had happy fun times. It was awesome! But she needed to know, so she asked. We're close like that.

I also have this awesome sheet tacked to one of our bulletin boards called "What to do if Mom needs to push and the midwife isn't there yet". It kinda makes me smile a whole lot. HOPEFULLY and I'm sure this won't happen she'll be there in plenty of time to help me bring Ellie to this world.

I'm a huge advocate for women feeling empowered and comfortable where and how they birth. One more time for those who missed that:

I'M A HUGE ADVOCATE FOR WOMEN FEELING EMPOWERED AND COMFORTABLE WHERE AND HOW THEY GIVE BIRTH. 

For us, this means that we don't want to be at a hospital. I don't want to be hooked to IV's, have nurses constantly in and out of my room, be in some other persons gown, or to be restricted in any way. I want to be free to move. I want to be in my own room, in my own house, with my own people. That is what makes me comfortable. If a woman chooses differently, if the thought of having a home birth freaks them out, you won't be comfortable during labor, and that's no good friends. However, I wish more woman were truly educated, knew their rights, and fought for them. I also wish that birth and labor were less shrouded in fear and selfishness, but that is a whole other post. 

For me to feel comfortable  to have a baby, this what we chose. Luckily, God has made a way for that to happen. We've been incredibly blessed to be able to pay our midwife and to continue in her care. For a while, I was scared that HG would send me straight to an OB and the hospital. With God's grace, a supportive husband, and an incredibly midwife, who saw me through a rough pregnancy. 

So that's midwifery care. That's how things are done. If you ever have questions, feel free to ask and I'll answer to the best of knowledge, or ask Doran the next time I see her. :) 

And Doran, feel free to comment with anything that I missed! Blair and I love you, and are thankful for your service in helping bring Miss Ellie into this world soon! And you too Jodi! 

A Little Slice of God's Art

I recently started to think about the title of my blog. GodArt. I've come a long way from where I used to be, and what I used to write about.

I am still finding all the beautiful things that are worth writing about. People who support and love my husband and I, births that I've attended, people who've encouraged me, photographs of people that mean more to me than gold. I like to find the beauty of God's art in all things, not just some of them. While sometimes, this is hard (I recall my miscarriage and the start of my HG pregnancy) many times there are beautiful things that I am involved in (recall the births I've attended, that time I married my best friend, or when I met an amazing couple that encouraged Blair and I).

Life is a beautiful thing. The more I grow in my Walk, the more I get the option to see some truly beautiful things. Hard things, sad things, but absolutely beautiful things. Which brings us to today's post.

I was recently able to go see a family that has come to mean a lot to me. It's not for the best of reasons according to the standards of this world, but to me, it was beautiful.

I met this family by accident on Doughnut Day. They had three little girls and as I talked to them more, I realized that their Momma was pregnant with their fourth baby. Later that year, after we became fast friends, she gave birth to their fourth daughter. Since then, they have had to move, we have had to move, but we've kept in contact. That person who told me that not enjoying my pregnancy did not make mean I loved my baby less? That was her. She made me two butterflies that are on my fridge and held my hand 8 days after I lost Cara, while I asked God to hold the baby that I would never get to. Her friendship and encouragement mean a lot to me.

Earlier this year, they announced that they were expecting again. I was thrilled for her. To me, babies are babies man. If you want 8, go for it. If you want 1, go for it. If you wait four years or however long to have babies, that is fine with me! Your uterus doesn't affect me, but when you tell me you are pregnant, be prepared, I will be excited for you.

Not long ago, this friend called me after work with some news. Some devastating, earth shattering, life changing news. Her baby, that we all already loved, had passed away. I cried for her and with her. I kept my phone on and told her I was there when she needed me. I prayed and questioned, because I don't understand sometimes how God allows these things to happen, however, He assures me that I don't need the answers.

That Saturday after I was told, I took a drive down to see her. We talked, laughed, played with her girls, and then I was given an incredible privilege as a photographer and as a friend to take pictures of her pregnancy.

It was a humbling thing. To realize that these pictures are some of the only memories that she will get to have of what we found out later was her Daughter, who's name is Ambrosia Amore, meaning Eternal Love. It made my heart happy to be able to be able to give her this gift, while at the same time, these photographs make me want to weep.

I will not understand God's plan all the time. I've learned this. The beauty of that though, is not that He promised that we wouldn't understand, but that He would walk through with us.

I was given permission to share this story, and to share these pictures. Please join me in continuing to pray for this little family and to rejoice in their faith, strength, and love.

Love is Blooming

Maybe I'm just getting sassy in my old age. Or maybe it's all pregnancy hormones, whatever it is, I've decided some things. Some things that are worth sharing.

For the first time in my life, I'm on the other side of this being pregnant thing. Normally, I'm the one watching and waiting for friends or sisters in law or my mom or whoever. I get excited about babies. About ALL of it, the pregnancy, the labor, the newborn. I wish every women felt comfortable with sharing their birth stories, because I always have this burning curiosity to ask. I like knowing it all, how long it took for them to go into labor, how many weeks they are, all of it.

As the pregnant one now though, on the other end, I must humbly apologize for all the times I've annoyed a pregnant lady. Because you can be sure I've gotten annoyed a time or two myself. Here and there. About certain things. Little things.

The matter of the uterus a common topic, though we don't call it that. But if we're all honest and grown up and adult about this, that's where babies are formed and created. The uterus.  I don't like saying things about my daughter being in my tummy...makes me feel like I've eaten her and that's weird. She is where God intended her to be. The muscular organ that has grown SO very large.

Here's the deal though, my reproductive system, is the business of three people. Me, my husband, and my God. This includes but is not limited to how many children we have, how far apart they are, and when they come out of me.

I've decided that when I go into labor, I don't want people to know. I have certain expectations in my head. One of them is that I will be in labor for a while, like my Momma was. (She had LONG labors, that crazy woman) So informing EVERYONE once the contractions hit/the water breaks/however my body decides to do this, is for me, my team, and my husband.

I want to post a picture of a beautiful baby and invite friends to tell her Happy Birthday. Because that's what a birthday is people, celebrating the day that YOUR mother pushed/went under/whatever to get YOU out. (Think about THAT the next time you think your birthday is all about YOU)

My plan is for my team to know. And for my closest family to know. My older brothers and their wives, a few grandparents, but honestly, as much as I love all of you, you can wait. Just like I've had to for these past few months. Be patient. This birth is not about  you, and I'm not entitled to have to tell ANYONE when I go into labor. Plus, who knows when it will ACTUALLY happen, AND there is no way to tell how fast or slow a labor will go.

Don't worry, when she's born, I'm gonna wanna tell everyone. I'm gonna wanna show everyone. I have someone taking birth pictures for us, I promise you that you won't miss much (and don't think to much about birth pictures, there will be nothing too graphic). Every mother is proud of their baby. Every mother wants to show their baby off, I'm gonna want to, really really.

Now that that is said, here, look at some pictures my best friend/godmother of my child/Auntie Ameh took of me. I look like I'm gonna have a baby and what not...weird!

 

I know that most of you have seen these, because of the good old Facebook, but I still wanted to write about it. It meant a lot to me that she took the time to take these pictures for me (and hopefully, will take some of me and Blair together..?) especially since we went to the place that she had gotten engaged at the DAY BEFORE!!!

I love that I have someone willing to help me document this time. Especially since I never thought I would want to. Ameh is amazing, and she's doing such a wonderful service for us...and I won't be able to say enough how honored I am that she is part of her Lennie's life. She doesn't love in little ways, she loves with her whole heart, and that's...that's beautiful and something worth teaching my daughter.

This is a poem that she wrote, and it's beautiful. I want to frame this and put it above my daughters bed/her little corner in our room.

Love is blooming, right here, right now, right inside of me, and that is a precious gift that I am holding close.

9.5

I don't think that you should force creativity. I think sometimes, you'll feel more creative than other times. It's a stage, and it all comes and goes in stages.

Lately, I've wanted to draw and paint and sketch and play and doodle and and and all the things. There was only one problem, sometime in our move from tiny apartment to tinier apartment in his parent's house, I lost/misplaced a journal.

This had never happened before. I wasn't sure how to handle it. I panicked, maybe cried, maybe made my husband drive me around to several places to see if I had left it somewhere else. I love my art journals. I've been keeping them since I was probably 12 or 13...I have stacks of them. I re-read them, see how my life has changed and been documented. So to lose one, to not know where it is...it's like...it's like loosing someone you love. Not to mention, when we lost our baby last July, I journal'd a lot to get through that. It's...it's a heavy journal. It's one I need to remind myself that I got through it. I follows this ocean tide of happiness and sadness and eventually, hope that I would carry as far as I am right now with Ellie.

And I don't know where it is. I still don't. 

But...but, I've come to terms that it just needs to be hidden right now, for whatever reason. This did not change the burning fury in me to creative and doodle.

This week I was at a friends house, well, this past week. As I'm sitting and talking to my friend, I see a fairly large black journal. Without asking whose it is, I take it and begin to draw what's been in my head for weeks (a Dandelion...), and from there, it was allllll good. It turns out the journal belonged to my friends husband, who knew I had lost the other journal so he says "Take this one."

Flabbergasted, I informed him that if he gave it to me, I would NOT be giving it back. It just...I wouldn't. It would become mine, but he knew that.

So here I am now with journal 9.5.

And a big huge heart full of thank you to D.J. Trevor for knowing me better than I know myself. I found that I can't go without an art journal. I need it. It's my way to keep in touch with the art that I love so well and to express the things that I can't otherwise.

I'm incredibly thankful that I have friends who know me better than I know myself. I'd be a hot mess without them....

Full

There are all these little things that are happening that just make me smile. Conversations that I've had, people who've stopped to see me, encouragement right at the right time.

I think about how my husband and I realized how incredibly selfish we are with and for one another. If we have spare time, we want to be where the other is. Three times Blair has come by the Library just to see/be near me. He showed up today and confused the heck out of me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I wanted to give you a kiss." He said. And then he did.

Our schedules have gotten much busier than we are used to. I work more now that I have been in MONTHS and I LOVE it. It just means that we don't get to spend our afternoons together the way we used to. It's all worth it though, because I love what I'm doing now. He sees this, knows it, and embraces it.

Today I saw a friend I haven't seen in a LONG time. She said "I love seeing how much you love Blair and Ellie." First of all, I love that she called them both by name, and second of all, I love that my actions speak that loudly. I want people to know who I love. I want people to know about my Faith and about these two people who mean so much to me. They are gifts, shouldn't we treasure our gifts? I've been thinking all day about that conversation. It kept me smiling.

Tonight my little brother took me to get frozen yogurt for cutting his hair. He looked at me and said "You're not the same Maddie as last year." All these things in just one day, my heart feels full.

We are officially in the third trimester. Ellie Girl feels huge, shoot, I feel huge. It freaks me out a little that she's not done growing and that I'm going to get even bigger. I can't imagine that it's true. I still get sick in the mornings, but I'm so tired of talking about throwing up, that I just ignore it when it happens. I've gotten to this divine acceptance that THIS is what pregnant looks like for me. I have two choices, complain, or accept it. While some days it's hard to accept, still, most days, I just take care of business and carry on. I like it better that way. Having two or three nose bleeds in a week tends to make me a little (read, a lot) fussy, but I'm really really trying to control that attitude. I know there are plenty of women who would love to have what I have sickness wise if it only meant that they were pregnant.

All the sudden I've got this voracious appetite. I want all the foods all the time, expect first thing in the morning. By ten though, man...it's like a food monster lives in me. At night, I feel like I get so hungry I could eat and eat and eat. I'm trying to remember all the things that are super good for us though. I may not have been able to eat well the first two trimesters, but hopefully I can now.

I've also been treated to a pedicure and a steak dinner in the last week. It amazes me the amount of wonderful people that surround us. I told Blair that we've got to start getting out more, if only because truly, people miss us. It goes back to that being selfish with one another. We're entirely too content laying next to eat other in bed reading or talking about books. However, I know that there might be a time when we really won't have all this time for one another, so be patient with us as we try to make the most of it now.

My heart feels full today. Almost like I was empty and needed some words of love without even knowing it. It's amazing to me how God works things together to fill us, even when we don't know we were running on empty.

Battling Irrationality

I am not to much of a coward to admit that I get scared.

I think that cowardly people are the ones that don't admit when they are scared. I think that by admitting you are scared you take power away from what it is that is making you scared, and you allow others into your mind where they can calm those fears.

I grew up around childbirth. I went to school and would come home to a baby. I looked through the Bradley Birthing Method book at a young age. When I was 19, I saw my best friend push out my God Daughter, since then, I've seen four other births. It's something that I've talked about, read about it, know about, am educated about.

However, I have never given birth myself. Not to a full term baby. So no, I don't know what contractions feel like, I don't know what it feels like to need to push, I don't know what it's like to get to a point in labor where you just think, "What the hell am I doing?" And yes, just like that. The sensations will be all new to me, something different that I've never experienced.

And I am not to much of a coward to not admit that the thought of giving birth at the end of June/maybe July, kinda scares me a little. I mean, ok, maybe I need to rephrase how I'm wording this. I just have an incredibly high respect for it, sometimes, though, that respect borders on irrational fears.

I am not scared of what my body can do. I am not scared of what God has created me to do. I am not scared of the pain, it is temporary, fleeting, and worth it to hold my daughter.

I am scared of what I don't know. I am scared of all the "what-ifs" and basically, the things that are out of my own control.

Here is how I am battling these fears: talking, listening, praying, trusting in those who know more than me. Trusting that my midwife has all the knowledge she needs to help me bring my daughter into this world. Trusting that my husband will be by my side, eager to help (where he can), knowing that he will encourage me. Talking about these fears with my Husband, asking him to listen to me, however much invalid or unlikely they are. Listening to those who have done this before, who tell me that it really truly is all worth, regardless of if your birth goes how you planned it or not. Praying that no matter what does happen, God is glorified through this experience, and that His ultimate goal for us is achieved. To bring into this world a life we've been blessed with.

In the past year I've been around and experienced a lot of those unknowns. Tragic things, hard things that cut you to the core. I've seen grieving mothers, grieved myself, and grown so much because of it. I have a very clear idea, in my head, how I want things to go to bring Ellie Girl into this world. Certain things I do know, like I just want to be home surrounded by my Husband, Mother, Best Friend, and a midwife who lets me labor, and is there as my just in case. I want to trust that my body can handle this. I know that I can do it, and I know in the throes of labor I'm going to try to convince my Mommy, my Husband, and my Best Friend, that I can't do it, that I won't do it, that I don't want to do it any more. I know in my heart, that each person in their own way will tell me that I can, that I will, and that I have to.

I'm finding out that the people who surround you before your labor and during it matter so much. That if I didn't have my Husband and Mother and Best Friend and amazing Midwife, I'm not sure I would be given leave to trust the way that I want to.

My crazy hormonal pregnant mind day dreams a lot about what could happen, what might happen. Each time I start to panic slightly about what I can't control, I remember something. God is in control. He's in control now, and He will be in control then. Regardless of what happens, or doesn't happen, He is still there. Why do we all seem to think in these moments of desperation that He just isn't there? I'm guilty of it. But I don't want to be.

I imagine myself in my bedroom at four in the morning, hanging onto my husband, crying because I can't, and I pray in those moments that I hear that still small voice who says "You know, you're right, you can't, I can, because I Am." THIS is what I want to remember to stop these irrational fears. THIS is what I want to remember while surrounded by the people I have gathered to be my birth team. THIS is what I want to remember IF we have to transfer. THIS is what I want to remember IF she is breech and the little sucker doesn't turn. THIS is what I want to remember IF nothing goes like how I want it go.

That I serve I Am, and in those moments, I'm surrounded by His Love. 

By the way, I love love LOVE this picture.

Mental Health

I hope there is always room in my life for random trips to the beach with my best friends. I hope that I always remember that sometimes, you have to forget what's going on, and just go. I hope that I always remember Adventures, and Talks, and Walks, and Singing out loud in the car.

I feel refreshed and renewed this week, and it's all because of my weekend. I had two very good friends take the time to take the time for me.

See I've been waiting 40 weeks for a certain day to come around. While this may not seem so big to others it was big to me. I'm an emotional person, I wear my heart on my sleeve, I cry openly, and I get angry openly. If I am passionate about something, I'm open about it. So when, this Friday, I celebrated the "what could have been" I needed to have a few moments.

It didn't help that Blair was gone at Drill, again, during this time. I have two very beautiful people though, who instead of letting me be alone and sad, said "Hey, let's have an Adventure." Really what it turned out to be was a Mental Health Trip. I need those. We need those. You need those, even if you don't think that you do.

Basically, we got to go be. To just exist somewhere else, where no one knew our names, where no one knew why we were there.

I sat on the beach and felt small. I sat there and soaked in the sunshine because I'll be honest, the worst part of winter, for me, is that there is less sunshine. I love me some Vitamin D friends. So I took it, all that I could to store up for days like Sunday and Monday, when it snowed.

Grief in and of itself is such a hard thing. Doing it alone is even harder. Me? I have friends and family who rallied around me and made me feel so much less alone. These two? It's like they know that sometimes, I just don't want to talk about it. And sometimes I do. And sometimes it means nothing. And sometimes it means everything. Sometimes things are just so big and you can't handle it. Sometimes you need to run away to the Beach. 

See, I'm gonna have a little one (on the outside of me) soon. It won't be so easy to just drop it all and go. It won't be so easy to stop thinking. And even when I do manage to find someone to watch the little booger (I have plenty of people who would...ahem...Grammy and Grumpy) I know I would be a little sad the whole time being without her. I'm taking advantage of these last few months of being just a Maddie, because I am selfless enough to know that when she comes, it all changes.

It's All Good

Over the course of the past couple of weeks, I've been thinking about a lot of things that I've seen or read in the great wide internets. I've gathered ideas from people, from their blogs, from posts of Facebook, from articles, and from my own writings and ramblings. I had a moment of clarity today in Church where I realized what it all really boils down too.

Are you ready?

Here's what it comes down to: God made all these different people physically, but He also made all these different personalities, and you know what? I like who I am. 

Let's delve deeper into this thought process, hopefully it makes sense. :)

See, I'm an emotional person. When I get worked up about something, I cry or get really loud about it. When I hurt, I don't hide it, and when I think something, most of the time I share it. I wear my heart on my sleeve, people don't have to guess where they stand with me, they normally know. I don't spend a lot of time around people who get under my skin, and I try to share my opinions in a well mannered way (sometimes, this doesn't work, I never said I'm perfect, I'm still letting God work in me). I am very vulnerable, I tend to share things that have happened to me openly and honestly.

I was thinking about a time at camp when I turned 21. That was the Summer of Project Six. My best friend (who was later in my wedding) gave me a box of 21 things, all in increments of six (six ping-pong balls, six coloring pages, six fly swatters, stuff like that...). As I opened that box in front of my fellow staff members, I openly and honestly wept, and then proceeded to bare my heart to them. Told them what "six" meant to me, and how I'd been working on some things that God really needed to address in my life. It was a big deal, and some people don't handle vulnerability so well. I don't mind. In fact, thinking about that time makes me smile, it was beautiful. It was healing for me.

I like to post stupid Facebook statuses. I like to tell stupid stories about things that we, or I, do. I don't mind telling people when a bad day is a bad day. I like to tell them when a good day is a good day. One Mother's Day I sat at a restaurant and cried because I was asking my parents to forgive me for years of acting out and being a poop to them. My Mom said, "Maddie, it's ok, if you're crying, we know it's important to you." I love that she told me that.

I was sitting in Church thinking about these experiences and I just smiled because, you know, God made all these personalities. How much fun does he have doing this?! I read a blog post from another "camp" friend who was talking about her two children, and how different they are and how beautiful it is,and I just thought, she's right. All these people, all these different ways of handling things. Where I am loud and outspoken, my husband is quieter and more analytically, and it's all so beautiful. Two of my best friends have the same mental problems and didn't get along for a long time, and finally a certain little girl brought them together, and it's beautiful. So alike and so different. All these things, all these people!

Why do we act like personalities are diseases? Shouldn't we embrace and rejoice in what God has created? There are people who don't get me, and there are people that I don't get. And that's ok. There are people who think that I should keep my emotions in check and not share so openly about things, and there are people who I wish would share more who don't, and that's all ok. We are different, beautifully and wonderfully different and I hope and pray that my daughter knows this one day.

She's being created, right now, right in my womb, becoming a person with eyes and teeth and hands and organs. And I just thought...she's also becoming her own person. Will she be emotional and explosive like me, her Momma (Oh Lord help us all!) or will she be quiet and analytic like her Daddy? Will she have his focus and mood problems? Will she wear her heart on her sleeve? Can I protect her if she does? See, we don't know. But God does.

God knows. 

It was such a neat thought to know that He knows her personality. That He knows my personality, that He delights in all of our personalities. We are all so fearfully and wonderfully made.

I just decided today that I will never run from this person that I have become. I will never stop telling you when a bad day is bad (And when it is, man, I just feel like my world is ending...) or when a day is good (and when it is man, I just feel like I'm on cloud nine...). I will always want to tell people goofy stories about Blair and I, and eventually Ellie, and eventually and Lord Willing, the other children He blesses us with. I hope and pray that I can learn to take delight in all these personalities, just like my Heavenly Father.

You know, there are seven kids in my family, and none of us are the same. We are all so brilliantly different, our spouses are so amazingly different, and my nieces and nephew are all so wonderfully different. Sure, some of share the same characteristics (my big brother Nate and I could be twins...and Josh and Evie are two peas in a pod..) but it's so wonderful. I'm thinking it would have been pretty boring for us if we were all alike. Not to mention my parents would have been bored out of their mind, we certainly made life interesting for them. Especially me and Josh...we used to fight a lot. :)

But the point is I like myself. I like who God has made me.

And I like that God made all these different people. I wish that we could all just see that in one another, and celebrate it. We aren't all alike. We don't think alike. And it's ok.

Really, truthfully, it's all good. :)

Something Old, New, Borrowed, and Blue!

So this month got a little bit crazy. (No kidding you might say, considering I'm getting married NEXT WEEK!? WHAT!? WHO KNEW!?) But I'm still trying hard not to neglect this little blog of mine. I've been waiting for something that I really REALLY wanted to write about though. And you know what? Tonight I found it!

I'm still trying to write about this whole getting married process, still as a way to remember all the things that are going on right now and all the feels that I have. Yes, I said feels. You must deal with this. This month has been full of feels. Good ones and bad ones and angry ones and for the first week of the month, stressed ones. It's gotten better. This week I realized I'm getting married at the end of next week and got stupidly excited. There is no other way to say that. :)

As every good bride knows, there's a rhyme that one must adhere to. Some brides might not, but those silly traditions are things that I love. And I'm excited about all my things so I figured I'd tell you about each thing and the why of each thing. Let's start!

Something Old
My Mom's Mom, my Mawmaw won't be at my wedding. At first, because I am, as we all are, a selfish human being, upset about this. I wanted them so badly to make a way to get to my wedding. I love my Mawmaw and Pappaw. I love them very much and very deeply, and it feels like to long since I have seen them. So I decided tonight, that in honor of one of the most amazing woman I know, that I wear earrings that she gave to me. Opal earrings that will fit into the second holes in my ears. My something old. A tribute, however small, to someone who means so much to me.

Something New
My dress! Duh! Let me tell you something, when they tell you that the dress chooses the bride and that when you know, you know, it's the truth! My dress was the second one I tried on, and we all knew! We you might ask? My Momma, my two big sisters (sister-in-law really, but I love them to much for them to be in-laws) and a what, five day old baby? That's right! My five day old niece helped me pick out my wedding dress! I can't wait to tell baby Izzie that she was there when I found that dress! We found it in Tennessee when we were there to meet that new little girl.  My ring was still brand new, we hadn't set a date yet, and we had to send my Daddy a picture of me in my dress through a pic text. He was so wonderful. I think what really made that day so special was my Daddy's support, and the look on my Momma's face when he told her I could get it. Every girl deserves to feel like a Princess on her wedding day. I never thought I wanted that so much until that silly dress. Every time I see it, and wear it, or think about it, I think about my Daddy. How much he loves me. How much I'll miss him...even though I'll be down the street. That dress is more like a symbol of love form my Family, so it means so much more to me.

Something Borrowed
This one took a while. Tonight I sat at the kitchen table with my mom and little sisters, talking about wedding things. I had my computer upstairs and we were listening to songs for the Reception. My little sister Evie was doing my hair, because she IS doing my hair the day of my wedding. (Apparently I haven't been around to let her play and that was stressing her out! Poor girl!) After we finally figured it out, and I'm trying my dress on, and we're talking about this, I ask them if any of them have a simple cross necklace. Evie pips up and says, "I do!" So my something borrowed is from my little sister! I love it! I love that so many things in my wedding are from people that I love. And that little necklace looks like it was made just for me to wear. :)

Something Blue
Super excited about this one! My shoes are my something blue! While wandering around Target a few months ago I saw these wonderful slippers that looked like moccasins, they were warm and fuzzy and had sequins! I exclaimed, "Babe! Those are my wedding shoes!" So many women wear those simple white slippers on their wedding, so why shouldn't I wear my blue ones!? And if you know me, you know I don't even LIKE shoes, not really, and I have like three pair of slippers that I wear all over the place. I should really stop that...:)

Also, just so everyone can know and be proud, I haven't bitten my nails at all.this month. Not even ONCE. (I'm a nail biter, be PROUD!)

I'll try to pretend that I'll write more before my wedding, but I might not. And I probably won't be writing on my HONEYMOON, so if y'all don't hear from me until March, just know I'm not dead yet. :)

Winter Play

Before I post some pictures from my Wedding shower, I'd like to share a few from the other day when I was out playing with my best friend. I find it funny that adults don't use that term, out playing. Remember when you were a kid, and you used to ask if you could "go play with your friends?" I still do that. I think I might always do that.

This time we didn't go to the park, but we went to the rail road tracks. I know it's like, illegal or whatever, but if you're smart about it, then, well, it's your life. :) And it makes for some fantastic pictures. We even let my Beloved come along with us! She snapped a few pictures of the two us that just...just take my breath away.

I have this issue with people taking pictures of me, because, I just don't think that they do it well, or capture what I want to capture. There are very few people that I like to let take pictures of me. She is one of those friends. So there were, playing at the train tracks...me, my best friend, and my fiancee. What a fantastic afternoon.

In case you can't tell, my favorite from this play session, were the black and whites. :)