Wait, Pray, Hope

I finally did it. I stood in front of my entire church and told them (very briefly) my story. (Our story really - I'm not alone in this.) I totally freaked out the day before, trying to figure out what I would say and realizing that I was about to share intimate details with not just friends, but strangers and acquaintances. The verse "bear one another's burdens" came to mind, and I knew it was confirmation that I really needed to do this. No one can bear my burden with me if I don't share it.
The anxiety followed me Sunday morning as the church service got closer, but sitting in the worship and listening to the songs brought my focus back to Him and with it enough peace to steady me. I know that my voice wavered as I told them about losing JJ before we had Dune, the year we lost Anastasios, Sayuri, Tacey, Aliento, and then finally, Nima last summer.  I heard it crack as I asked them to pray that we would be granted just one more baby to keep. I felt the hope and the sadness that flowed as I spoke of my desire to come to the end of this story with heart whole, faith strong, and spirit resting in Him whether we were granted a baby or not.
They surrounded us and covered us in prayer. I felt blessed, loved, and tiny part of me healed.

Since I ovulated the night before this, it kind of felt like the perfect timing, and certainly my hopes have raised considerably. But, you know what happens with higher hopes - the harder the fall is when it happens. So with my hopes, my fears are high. I'm struggling to find a continuing measure of peace each and every day. The anxiety attacks aren't frequent, but there is a consistent background anxiety that I recognize through feeling often on edge and somewhat testy with my family. I briefly found myself frustrated with going from a place where I was ready to accept a short time with my next baby and going through another miscarriage, to a place where I was thinking about/hoping for a full term pregnancy and healthy baby and the idea of loss was shooting a bolt of terror through me. I don't need or want that terror.
Now, I'm working on seeking peace for today. One day at a time trusting in God's love, reminding myself to that I can trust that love through each day, whatever that day ends up holding. I really haven't got this down. Several times a day I have to take a deep breath and focus on his love, to bring myself back to today, to let "tomorrow worry about itself." I don't know how I will hold up through this week. I'm hoping this gets easier instead of harder, but it doesn't usually work that way. So pray for me that I won't fall apart by the end of this wait.

Physically, I feel like this cycle is different, that I'm likely pregnant, and while my husband will tell you that I've said that several times when I wasn't pregnant, the getting pregnant part has not been difficult for us historically, so there is indeed a decent chance. Of course, I'm also having the low backache that seems to have become a regular part of pms and was always a sign of an impending miscarriage when I was pregnant. But then that has also recently started coming before I've even ovulated, so maybe it's become something that I will experience no matter what the state of my uterus happens to be. There are no answers! I'm trying (and trying and trying) to not think about it all very much until the end of the week when I will actually have some idea of what's happening.

Wait with me, pray with me, hope with me, won't you?

The Fight for Rest

Figuring out all of this "rest" stuff is turning out to be way harder than I thought. I knew I needed to stop holding myself to these standards that I wasn't sure I could ever reach, but what exactly should my standards be? I mean, I need some, right? I can't just sit around all day, call it rest, and be happy with that life, as appealing as that sounds a lot of the time.
As I'm trying to figure out how to make a restful life without simultaneously feeling like a lazy ass who never does anything, it occurs to me that it's not truly rest if you haven't worked, if you have nothing to rest from. I know! Epiphany! So after I get past feeling slightly ridiculous that this is just occurring to me, I can process the fact that I need to work at my life, to live with purpose, to put in effort, and then rest will be truly restful.
Figuring out my current purpose is not too difficult. I'm at home with my son, which I believe is exactly where I'm supposed to be. Teaching, guiding, and building that relationship is possibly (probably) the most important thing I'll ever do. The difficult part is figuring out how to do that. What is this supposed to look like? I have this idea in my head, but it's the one that stresses me out, making me feel like I'm just never going to get this right, this life style that I'm just not sure I have the ability to accomplish. You know, the shiny family in the shiny house, where the mom has done her prayer time, her run, her shower, and gotten everyone fed and dressed by nine when they all sit down for a morning of school work, with an afternoon of  "fun" stuff like science experiments and all the children (it's always multiple kids, you know) playing nicely together outside to look forward to. She also does all the cooking and makes most things from scratch.
Even though I'm trying to get our mornings trim and smooth, it still takes me until around eleven to get all of that done, and my kid doesn't even get dressed. Our days don't have a schedule, or routine, or even a decent rhythm really. Bug spends 50-75% of his day on the computer watching things like toy reviews and Power Rangers on YouTube. Some days that number is more like 90%. I often get to the end of the day and wonder where my time has gone and how I didn't manage to get anything accomplished or spend any real time with my son.
So, I need a new frame work, a new picture. I want more than we've got, more than this feeling of skimming the surface of every day, floating through them never really getting anywhere, and I can't keep putting that "perfect" ideal on myself. It's only real result is to make me feel like I can't get it right, and emphasize the "I'm a failure" days that come occasionally.  I know that I need something that works for me, for us; a flow and structure that suits our personalities, that plays to our strengths. I need to find our ideal life. And this is where I'm finding some of the difficulty.
I used to have a pretty good idea of who I was and what I was good at, and of course some of that stays with me and continues to be true, but that was before I was into this role of mother. I don't know who I am as a mother. I don't really know where my strengths are, how to use my personality and spirit to our best advantage. I don't know what kind of lifestyle is ideal for our family, or what will help us flourish and bring purpose to our days. I know with just one four year old, I'm a relative newbie to mothering, but you'd think I'd have some idea at this point.
So I'm struggling to figure this out, to take tiny baby steps forward. I'm wrestling every day with trying to identify myself, to see where we are doing ok, where we need work, which step of change I can make today. I'm nervous, scared really, because often change isn't lasting around here, and what if it all falls apart in a week, and I just feel like a failure again? What if I never really figure this out, and we end up wasting every day, letting it slip through our fingers, until I look back and realize years of our lives have gone by simply vanishing into nothingness? I'm definitely a little bit lost (and freaking myself out right now), but I'm still in the fighting stage, and all I can do is pray that I will keep fighting until I find some solid ground to pull us up onto. I have a lot to figure out, to learn, discern, and I feel like I'm wading through muck and fog searching for light and dry ground. But over the fear I have strength, perseverance, and hope.

To My Tweeps

I'm thankful to all of you who replied to me this morning, especially those who said they would miss me or would like me to stay around. I will directly reply to some of you, but all that I'm feeling right now is just too much for Twitter, so I figured this was the best way to get it out there.

In the really horrible times, whether tragedy, loss, or just a day when I can't get on my feet is when Twitter shines. You are always there for me in those times. Always. And for that, I'm hugely grateful. You've gotten me through some seriously rough patches and kept me from feeling alone and lost. I know I can always count on encouraging words, sympathy, empathy, and a little extra strength when I'm really down and out, and I'm sure I won't ever give that up.
But I've been struggling with Twitter on and off since summer. I was offline for a couple of weeks and it felt like no one noticed. When I came on and mentioned how I felt, you were there to welcome me and send me love, and I climbed back into the twittersphere. But I'm not sure that my interaction level has ever really come back up since then. Part of it was conscious decision since I'd seen how much extra time I had and I knew I wanted to get some priorities straight regarding my family, and then I think part of it wasn't conscious. I just had a bit more trouble connecting, and I'd read, but often feel like I just didn't have anything to add anymore and the connections I had seemed to not be as strong as I thought they were, so I was a bit discouraged and not sure how much effort to put in. When I'm not on continuously and constantly engaging and replying, the few times I do tweet get little to no response. Natural maybe, but still lonely feeling.
I look around me on Twitter and I see people with relationships that go beyond Twitter - text, email, phone, lovely packages in the mail, and honestly, I want that. I want to make friends. I want to be needed, I want someone who checks up on me, who thinks of me during their day, sends me a link because they think I'll find it funny, someone who I can call on, and who knows they can call on me whenever they need something. There were a few relationships that I thought were moving in that direction, but as I go along, it seems the gap is widening, not closing, and I fear that, at most, I'm a second tier friend for these people. Now, realize, this is not blame placing, I'm not angry or feeling betrayed, I don't think this is "their" fault. I'm just seeing that things are not the way I thought or hoped for them to be. And, really I'm not sure how to get there. I've put a lot of effort into engaging others and offering support and help even when it wasn't easy, trying to show that I intend to be a friend (you know -"you've got to be  a friend to have a friend" and all that), but it didn't lead where I'd hoped. Again, no blame or anger, just noticing that I'm still not really connecting.
I'm also finding myself in a weird place in life that is making it difficult to connect. I want another baby, but I have no idea how or when to pursue it. It's all on pause, but at the same time it's not, because I'm sort of mentally working towards it, placing my foot tentatively around me trying to figure out where the safest ground is. I'm also trying to learn to be content with my life as it is now, and give my current family the attention and acceptance they deserve. So many of you are having babies now, and while I'm not upset about that (quite happy you are), I'm kind of numb in that area most of the time, just disconnected with it. Most of you who aren't there yet are pursuing it actively and while I've gained a huge education since meeting you all, I'm still a little confused about all process and procedures you are going through on that road. So there are two major groups where I often feel that I have very little to offer and I'm just kind of in this no-man's land occasionally bumping into someone on the edges that I manage to exchange pleasantries with.
As I read replies, it seems like this isn't unusual, and many find Twitter to be a bit of an ebb and flow of friendship, and some decide to take breaks when the connection ebbs away for a period. I can understand this, but if I'm finding greater distance in my relationships when I'm not constantly interacting, what will happen if I disappear entirely? Plus, that obviously won't fill the desire I have to find and build friendships.
I'm not really sure where I'll go from here. I've certainly considered taking a break from Twitter entirely, but my great desire to connect at least a little might not let me. I tried making a list of a few I'd like to continue making a concentrated effort on building relationships with, but my phone won't let me read a feed from it. Maybe I'll make a whole new Twitter account? I have no idea. I know I've been grateful to you time and again, and I'm sure I will be in the future also. In the meantime, anyone who wants to connect on Facebook, just let me know.
Much love to you all.

I'm Not Ok

I'm not ok. I know that I've not been doing very well for the past few days, but now I'm beginning to wonder if it goes deeper than that. The idea is kind of scary - I'm broken enough, I don't need mental/emotion issues on top of what's already there - and then what do I do if there are bigger problems? I just don't know if I can handle this.
Next week, I go for blood work to see if the thyroid medication I'm taking is bringing my TSH levels down to levels that are healthier for pregnancy. This is the one thing we've found to try for my unexplained recurrent losses, so if the levels are good we start "actively" (you know what I mean) trying to conceive again. Basically right away. For the first time in over a year.
I'm really, really scared.
Even though I've been doing my best not to obsess about it, and spend great chunks of time not thinking about it, it's getting to me. I feel like I'm entirely made up of stress and emotions. There is this weight in my chest that is just pulling me down. I'm this weird combination of numb and panic.
Every now and then I have a moment of calm and clarity. I feel ok, "I can do this. Even if I have another miscarriage, it will be horrible, but I can make it through. I've done this before. I will survive." But mostly, the possibility freaks me out. At one point I had hope that something would work, would make a difference to allow my body to carry a baby to term, but lately all I can feel is that it's just not enough. Tinkering with my thyroid is just not enough to make a healthy environment for a baby. How could something so slight be the whole reason that they keep dying? How could this tiny adjustment be a fix? It's not going to be enough, and I'm either going to lose another baby, or just not get pregnant at all. The hope is so small, that it's almost non-existent.
Should I give up? I ask this now and then, and I know that somewhere I have my breaking point, somewhere is the place where I have to just stop before it consumes me. But, I can't do it. Not yet anyway. I'm driven by a need for another child. A need to give my Bug a sibling. I know many people choose to have only one child, and I don't for a second think there is anything wrong with that, but for me, I feel like I'm doing my son a huge injustice if I can't give him a brother or a sister. Like, I'm keeping him from one of life's great experiences. I'm sure some of this comes from growing up in a family of five kids (not always roses and ice cream certainly, but my sister is one of my closest, most trusted friends), since Boy - an only child - doesn't feel this way at all. I feel like my family is incomplete. I've already given up my ideal of having four children, I just can't see it as an option anymore, but to concede to having only one? I can't. let. go. It certainly doesn't help that lately Bug has taken to telling us that he wants a baby sister, mentioning all the things he'll share with her, and occasionally asking, "Is that our baby?" when he sees another little one in life or pictures. I keep telling him we are going to try to make another baby, but it doesn't always work out; but of course, he doesn't understand any of this at all. I mean, despite our trying to explain how we hope to have a baby, he still doesn't understand that we can't just pick one out of a picture, or take home the little girl from church.
So I'm kind of a mess. I'm trying to focus on positive possibilities, but it's so hard. The negative ones are screaming at me.

This morning, Boy had his weekly meeting with the senior pastor. They talk about work, and life, and keep in touch on all things important. Today Boy shared what was going on with us right now, and how we were close to trying again. I don't know the full discussion, but there was mention about how I was handling it all, and SP wondered if I had fully processed my grief from all my losses. When Boy mentioned this to me, at first I was just pissed off. "How does any one else have the right to say I'm not ok? He doesn't even know me that well, he has no idea how I'm doing!" And honestly, I like this man. He's been nothing but kind and helpful to us since before we moved here. So maybe my immediate defensiveness is not really a good sign.
As I talked with Boy and began to think about it, some memories came to mind. Over the past several months there have been more than a few losses with all of my Twitter friends. With all of them, I feel great sympathy and heartache for those going through the loss. But, there have been a few that have shared starting with a tweet much like this, "I'm spotting." Reading those tweets makes my stomach plummet, my chest constrict, and my spirit scream, "No, no, no! Not again."
Wow, even writing those words, I can feel my heart beat faster, my breathing get shallower. As I keep writing, the tears threaten and I can remember exactly how I felt every time the first signs of pink showed on the toilet paper - that frozen panic fear.
See, this doesn't seem like a good thing. I think maybe I'm really not ok. But, what do I do about it? The idea of trying to deal with another problem is just overwhelming. I've already got so many things in my life that I'm trying to figure out, how do I handle one more?
And - it's March. The weather is warming up, Spring is trying to sprung, green things are growing in my garden. It's the time of year where I've always felt myself coming to life again, felt energy renewing after winter and the slight depression that it brings. It was always a time of joy for me. Until I lost my first baby as the crocuses bloomed. Three years after that I had my second loss at the very end of February, and then a year later had my fifth loss, also during the month of March. I love Spring and finally feeling the sunshine on my face, but it brings waves of grief, bittersweet memories of seeing the first flowers bloom, celebrating my first baby, not knowing it was all going to end in a few days. This season now brings me an odd combination of joy and sorrow. Maybe some of what I'm going through right now is simply part of all of this. Maybe this year, this season will bring renewal, and a bit of healing through new life, not just outside, but maybe also within my womb. Maybe this year will bring redemption to March.

The Weight of the Wait

I'm not sure I've ever had so many migraines in such a short period before. Every day I feel like I'm a little heavier, a little more weighed down. The stress is pushing me into the ground.

Five weeks ago we drove six hours to do a three day interview with a church, an associate pastor position for Boy. It went fantastic. The church felt comfortable and familiar, the house provided with the position felt good and fitting, the people felt like friends and family. Boy received compliments on his preaching and positive reviews on leading the service. Their priorities fit with ours. Their style of service keeps the children in until it's time for the sermon - a rare find and very important to us. Their theology meshes with ours and has actually helped Boy define some things. He says he didn't know before that he was (insert this church's denomination). Except for the fact that it's at least six hours away from all our immediate family, it looks like the potentially perfect church for us.
The high from that weekend only lasted so long though, because then we had to wait. And wait. And wait. And we are still waiting to hear. They had another candidate they wanted to interview and he and his family came a month after us. Now they have to decide who they think will be the best person for the job and for their church, and we get to wait. Is there anything so wearing as waiting? I'm not sure getting a negative answer is worse than waiting and dreading a negative answer. Especially when it feels like your last chance. Boy has been searching for a job for almost a year and our time is running out.
To add to the stress, the pastor sent an email last week asking about our cats and how "non-negotiable" they were. I think they're nervous about all our babies in the house after the previous residents left the (relatively small) carpeted area smelling like cat pee. I get that, but our house rarely smells like pee, and when it does, I hunt it down until it's GONE. There are few things more humiliating for me than to have people walk into my house and have it smell. I could just die. So anyways, we said we would repair any damages done out of pocket, give them a deposit if they wanted it, and would even replace the smelly carpet on our dime. I'm desperately hoping that it's enough, because if they come back and say they want us, but the cats can't come, I will break. I just don't think I can do it.
My sister says, "You aren't willing to give them up to be where God wants you to be?" First, thanks for the support. Second, I don't think I am. It's just too hard. These cats are part of my family and in a strange way, they are all tied up in my losses and my faith. I don't know how to let go of them. Maybe it makes me a bad Christian. Maybe it makes God disappointed in me (as my childhood picture of God would be). Maybe it will cost us a really great job with a really decent house in a time where we really can't afford it. I don't know. The one truth I know, is that God loves me. He loves me even if I can't make big sacrifices "for him." If I hold my cats tight, and we manage to thwart something big and miraculous and fantastic that God wants to do - he still loves me. I'm hoping that love means that whatever plans he has for us, whatever good he's working for us, that that includes this part of our family, these animals that are so close to my heart and so much a part of my life. I don't know really. I'm still just figuring out who God is and what he wants. The only thing I've got - he loves me.
So, I'm pretty familiar with the "be anxious about nothing" verse, cause you know, I'm working on it, but seriously, never been my strong point. I come from a long line of worriers. I really don't want to be like one older lady I know, who literally worries herself sick, like, put herself in the hospital sick. I'm hoping by that age that I've somehow figured out how to just trust God and let things rest in his hands, but I'm not sure I'm making much progress yet. It always the wait that kills me. I don't do well in waits. Once I know what is happening, I can usually handle it. I have seen God's hand in our lives and know that we have never been without what we need. We've always had a place to live and food on the table. Should this job not work out, I know I can trust in that. But, I'm still scared and stressed.
One of the church leaders called Boy last night to ask a few questions, so we know he's still in the running, and he seemed to think that we would know by the end of the week. Our wait may finally be coming to a close. Hoping and praying that this will be the place for us. A place to call home, a church family that feels like family, and a position where Boy can shine in the way I know he was meant to.
In the meantime, here's hoping the migraines will leave me alone.

A New Thing

Several years ago, I finally noticed that my life was not what it should be. I was depressed and I needed help. I wish I had had a better idea of what warning signs to look for, but I didn't. I thought I was fine. Seriously, I should have known that it wasn't ok to have mornings where it was hard to get out of bed. Where I needed to call Boy to help me put my underwear on. I just thought I was letting myself be overly dramatic, that really, I could do it, if I just made myself. I should have known that it wasn't ok to be getting upset every time Boy came home from work, and less ok that at one point I wanted to scream, "Could you please just stop breathing?!" because everything he did, even how he breathed, was irritating me. I just thought that I was hormonal, going through a rough patch in our marriage, whatever. The realization point for me was one morning while getting ready for work. I knocked the cats water dish with my foot and soaked down my sock. Annoying, but you just go change them, right? Nope. I broke down. Sat on the floor and bawled. Finally, my head said, "This is not ok. A wet sock shouldn't destroy you. Something is wrong." I met with my doctor and after a few hits and misses, found anti-depressants that helped me feel normal again. I used them for two years, and then slowly weaned off through much ups and downs as my body readjusted, eventually taking over and doing the job on it's own.
Ever since then, I've been terrified of heading down that path again. It stole my joy and my life. Turned my marriage into a burden. Took all my usefulness and made me nonfunctional. Every time I have a few bad days, it scares me. If things are feeling grimmer than usual, it scares me. If Boy feels especially irritating, it scares me. I know I struggled with depression as a teenager, hormones I suppose, and this deeper bout with depression was brought on by hormone imbalances (birth control pills) and stress. Now, I will never do the pill again, but guess who's life has been full of stress for quite a while now? Yeah, mine.
Boy has been looking for work longer than he's been out of work, and that's been since November. I don't know if any other hiring process is quite so stressful as within the church. I think they have more steps than other hiring processes and the waiting in between each step is often at least a month. So we are talking 5-6 months for the entire search to hire, or at least a month to find out if you've been rejected right off the bat. And the rest of your life in the meantime? It's on hold. You don't want to make any major decisions, commitments, or changes because you don't know what your life will be like in a few months. You don't know where you will be living, or how much income you will have, or if you will still be on hold. It's a sucky way to live.
The past year has also been full of dealing with, well mostly waiting on, doctors and hoping/fighting/despairing over trying to find answers as to why I've had so many miscarriages. Either one of these big things is a lot of stress. Together they are immense and overwhelming. Throw in a bad habit of going to bed late, with a little one whose struggled with his sleep this summer, resulting in some serious sleep shortage and we have a cocktail for disaster.
A few days ago I sat down with Boy to tell him how I'd been feeling. I was worried and scared. It seemed like I was spending a lot of time irritated with him and I was pretty sure it was me, not him or our marriage (although I'm not sure spending almost every second together for the past nine months has been that great for us. We love sharing everything and being together a lot, but we never have a chance to miss each other.) Also, I thought that I maybe wasn't being happy very often. I ended up breaking down, totally freaked out that I was headed towards depression and needing medication. He tried to calm me and said it wasn't that bad. He'd help me keep an eye on it, but I was doing ok. He prayed with me and for me, and I prayed. In praying many of the burdens and pain I've been carrying for years came out. My spirit touched again by Emerging Mummy and led by the heart of a child, I poured out that my heart was full of bitterness and cynicism and irritation, and I didn't want it anymore. I was tired of carrying it around. Despite the "coolness" of being a cynical Christian, and of being wary of emotional spiritual displays,and being too cool to be one of "those" ("Isn't Jesus great?!!") Christians, I didn't want it anymore. I was tired and broken and done. I wanted my heart to be full of him, and full of love, peace, and the joy he promises. I called and he answered. Somehow I felt freer, happier, and more alive. I also felt more connected to my husband than I had in months. Things weren't perfect. I knew I wasn't perfectly healed or over all I'd been feeling, but I knew he had heard me.
The next day I felt like nothing had changed. I was frustrated, irritated, and breaking down again. I felt dragged under, like things were actually worse than before. Talked with Boy and felt myself falling apart. "Where is he? Why can't I have the joy so many others have? Seriously. I can understand him not healing every cancer patient ever prayed for, not saving each baby I lost, not protecting every person from sickness or death, but when it comes to spiritual healing, why wouldn't he give that as soon as it was asked for? Isn't that what he wants most of all? Isn't that what Christ is all about? Why? Why can't I just have joy? Why would he deny that?" I don't remember all he said, but I remember his face and him voicing his fears that I would just give up. There have been many times I've struggled with believing God was really real, mainly because of wondering where the peace and joy were. I know that's not what I want. From the depths of my soul came, "I will not give up. I choose Christ. I choose joy." He promises these things and I will not give up until I have them. I will pursue them until they are mine.
There is no explanation for how this has happened, but these past few days have held more joy for me than the past year did. I've had moments of overwhelming, bubbling out of me, had to giggle out loud, joy. I've been more connected with my husband than I have been in months. I've initiated more kisses with him, than several previous weeks combined. Last night, we actually played together, wrestling and teasing like little kids. I can't remember that last time we did that. It's not been all sunshine and roses. There are times when the fear consumes me and I worry that none of it is real, I'm going down again, where is God and joy? There are times when I'm so irritated and frustrated I could cry. There are times when the cynicism takes hold and I think, "There is no way this job for Boy will work out. This doctor won't be able to help me, just like the others. This all has just been fleeting hope, and I will just be back where I started, wondering where God and his promises come into my life." But, I am finding ways to connect. I'm realizing how much I need quiet time, with no chance of distraction, times to walk alone and sit at the water, and be overwhelmed by God's Spirit. Each day is still a struggle, but if each has moments of joy, I am beginning to heal; to be a whole functioning person again, instead of pieces scattered on the floor. My heart has been a wasteland, but he is doing a new thing.
I choose Joy.
Isaiah 43: 18-19:
“See, I am doing a new thing! 
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? 
I am making a way in the desert 
and streams in the wasteland.”


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Disclaimer - Depression and faith have a very real connection, but in NO way do I think that if you are depressed it's because of lack of faith. My faith could not save me when I experienced long term depression before, and I am very grateful that anti-depressants were available. Depression is a condition that can eat your soul from the inside out, but it's also a medical problem. Sometimes faith can carry us through and I have seen God heal those struggling with it. Sometimes it can be managed with a good diet, sunshine, and exercise. Sometimes you need counselling. Sometimes medication is needed. More often than not, it's a combo of these things. If you think you may be depressed, please talk with your doctor or counselor. They can help you come up with what will work for you. Please don't suffer alone trying to ignore it, or "just get by." I am still trying to keep an eye on how I am doing, and am constantly reevaluating if this is just a blue period where I seriously need more sleep and less stress, or if it is pointing to a greater problem.

Lost In the Dark

Lately I've been feeling like I'm failing at everything, but especially at being a mama. I think it's probably tied into how miscarrying affects my feelings as a mother (not being able to protect them and take care of them = major mama failing), and also because being a mama is my biggest role right now. There are also so many other stressors in my life right now, that so little energy is left for this role. I find myself short on patience and ideas and energy. I'm snapping more, saying "no" a lot, and giving so little time to this one that needs me. I feel like I'm forcing him all the time. Gently forcing, but forcing none the less. I can't figure out how to teach and guide and convince him to do the things that need to be done - like eat and sleep and tidy - without just saying, "You have to. I'm sorry you don't want to, but this is what we're doing," which wouldn't be so horrible if it didn't turn into a fight half the time. I don't like to physically struggle with my son to get his diaper and pajamas on, and constantly bring him back to the bed crying, because he doesn't want to sleep, he wants to play; or tell him again and again, "Eat. Eat. EAT. It's supper time. You need to eat," and then deal with him saying at bedtime, "I'm hungry," and knowing that it might very well be true, because he didn't actually eat that much at supper, but now he really needs to sleep, and if I let him eat, he'll end up being overtired and not sleeping very well, except if he really is hungry he won't sleep well either. (ahhh! deep breath)
Anyways, I'm super struggling with the whole discipline (as in teaching, not as in punishing) thing, and I'm not really sure how to figure it out. I'm frequently drawn to the "let your child express themselves/be their own person/work with, not against" style of parenting, but occasionally it does seem to go too far or have a very humanist view point. I very much want my parenting to be Biblically sound (not in the "you must spank you child" kind of way, cause I really don't think it says that), to honor God, and to teach my son just how much God loves him, but I can't figure out what that all means or how to do that. So I have these two ideas about parenting that I think should mesh, but no idea how do either one, let alone put them together. My lack of energy and patience is not helping.
I feel like I'm hunting for gold, except I only have this vague idea of what a mine is, I've never heard of a pick-axe, and my headlight is on backwards. As I search through this semi-darkness, stumbling around, I can only hope I'll do more good than harm, and perhaps someone who's been this way will pass by and offer a helping hand.

On Failing and Contenment

Finding myself struggling today. I've actually been struggling for a while now with feelings of failure. I think it's pretty common with those that have trouble carrying a child. Not being able to carry out this basic, intrinsic function can leave a women feeling less than, and incomplete, and not enough, and well, broken. It does a pretty good job on your self-esteem, often causing this feeling to flow out into other aspects of your life, and can make a gal feel like she's just not good at anything and is constantly failing. Well, at least that's my experience anyway.
I've been feeling like I'm failing as a wife, a mother, a home maker, and well, just being me and taking care of myself. So many days are made up of randomness, disorganization, and problems. We started this family schedule, but have we managed to actually make it through a day on the schedule? Maybe once. I'm gaining weight, not getting the exercise I want, and spending far too much time online. Boy is supposed to have time to work on some writing he is doing, but it's constantly being overrun by the family things that don't end up staying in their scheduled place. Bug is not eating well enough and spending far too much time watching television, which I can see in his whining and inability to imagine something that's not from his favorite show. Wow. Just writing this out is making me feel terrible. Of course, that's probably also partly due to the fact that it's twenty to twelve and I'm still up instead of in bed, where I should have been about two hours ago, since I am so short on sleep (therefore also everything else) lately. To sum up - I've been very miserable lately and feeling like I'm not good enough at anything.
In reading some posts by Emerging Mummy (If you aren't reading her, you should be. Her writing is beautiful and inspiring.) like this one, I've been realizing that my life is seriously missing some joy and contentment. I am certainly not happy right now. Here's the part I'm struggling with today - scripture tells us learning to be content is important, but I'm pretty sure how we are currently living is not very God honoring. How do I have contentment and welcome joy in, while realizing there are things in my life that need improvement, especially when considering trying to fix most of these things is incredibly daunting (like so overwhelming it keeps me from moving daunting)? How do I strive for a higher goal while still being content with how things are? I know I need the peace of contentment, but I also know that things can't go on as they are and changes need to be made. I'm currently so messed up inside, and this internal struggle and lack of answers is making my brain feel like it's bouncing around in my skull trying to get out. (It makes you understand why little kids have temper tantrums, because I'm getting closer and closer to wanting to throw things.)
The best I have tonight is the very real situation that I need far more sleep than I'm getting. First step - go to bed on time! Second step - seek God. That's all I've got. I need to find some way to make sense of this all, and they say he has the answers. Of course, even that seems daunting right now, and I'm really afraid that I'm going to fail at that too. Trying to make daily time for God has been difficult for several years, and I can't figure out how to make it work.
Somebody pray for me.