In Which I Defy Societal Norms

I am so nervous about hitting "publish." But here goes....

It's strange how far I've come in the past 17 months, since August of 2015, the month I miscarried our first baby (that post here). 

At first, I was eager to hop back on the baby making train. It only took three months the first time we tried. My midwife and nurses and friends all seemed SO confident I'd fall pregnant in NO time at all. And, I mean, it's fun to try, right? At least, that's what well-meaning friends offered as a placation. 

After about three unsuccessful months, I began to fret a bit. So the acupuncture began. The herbal supplements. The ovulation predictor tests (some months; it made me obsessive and I had to limit myself, lest I become a legitimately crazy person). Later, the strict diet and increased emphasis on fitness. I wanted to exhaust all my natural options before succumbing to the pressure I was feeling, mostly internally but sometimes from outside sources, to see a fertility specialist. 

I set mini-deadlines for myself. If I'm not pregnant by Thanksgiving, I'll go see a specialist. But I didn't feel at PEACE about that. That was ME imposing MY timeline on God and HIS timing. 

So this fall, I started to pray differently. I started to pray that God would open my heart to seek His will more and mine less, and I felt nudged towards adoption. Sidenote: If you look at my "List of Things to do in Life" from 8th grade, you'll notice adoption is listed on there, so clearly I've always had this desire. 

Anyway... I began to research. Met up with an adoptive mom for coffee. Prayed a lot more. Checked out a lot of books from the library. 

I searched for foster children online and watched their videos and read their stories and cried when I saw that they've been without a forever home for years. I joined adoption groups of Facebook. 

I finally breached the subject with my reluctant husband, who agreed to pray about it and revisit the idea with me this summer. 

Peace. Acceptance. I finally had them. Maybe biological children weren't in my future, but having a family was, and my heart was open to that process. So open to that. Older children, siblings, children of color, you name it. My heart began to grow as God showed me His love for children who are not in their forever home. I started taking screenshots of children who were up for adoption and praying for them, sometimes to the point of tears. 

During this time, James 1:27 rooted itself in my heart: "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." 

So...perhaps you can imagine my absolute and utter shock when this happened on December 19th: 

That's a pretty solid second pink line. 

I still thought the test was lying, so this happened over the next couple days: 

And when I still didn't believe those, I bought a digital one just so I could see that coveted word: 

Every day is a struggle to stay optimistic and hopeful. Even though I know there is an 80 percent chance the baby will be fine, I can't help but worry. 

I also worry about sharing this blog. What if people judge me for announcing too early? What if I do miscarry again? What if I can't handle all the unsolicited advice I'm going to get? What if people think this is a cry for attention? 

The first time we got pregnant, I was going to do the "traditional" thing: wait until second trimester to announce. This time, I want to celebrate and love and pray for this child, and Randy and I want to invite all our friends and family to join us in celebrating this new life. We are cherishing every moment of this pregnancy (even the nausea and fatigue and heartburn and insomnia). We are sharing this news to celebrate life and to share our story in hopes that it will give other women who want to announce early courage to do so. 

In short: we are so excited to meet our rainbow baby*. 

*Rainbow baby: a child born after a miscarriage, stillbirth, neonatal death or infant loss.




Dear Lord, Creator of all things,

Thank you for creating a new life within me. I trust You to give this baby health and divine protection, to knit him/her together perfectly. In those times when fear tries to creep into my heart, increase my faith. May Your unfailing love rest upon me as I put my hope and trust in You.

Draw Randy and I closer to You and to each other so that our faith may increase and we may show our child Your unconditional, everlasting love. We know you have a plan for our child, and we thank you for what you will use him or her to do for Your glory.

Give me Your joy and peace throughout this pregnancy. Let me be a witness of Your goodness and faithfulness. I give thanks to You in all circumstances and thank you for allowing me the blessing of being this child's mother. Fill me with Your spirit and prepare me to nurture and raise this child in the way You desire.


In Jesus' name,
Amen.

"This or That"

I struggle with the false dichotomies we human beings create.  As if there's no third option, or as if you can't like two things that people say conflict with each other.

But we do this in our society all the time, don't we, despite the fact that I think we can all think of times when there are more than two options?

I see it with politics.
I see it with religion and science (people think you either believe in religion OR in science. Ok, people, talk to my husband, the devout Christian chemist).
I see it when it comes to law enforcement or race- as if I cannot be BOTH supportive of police officers AND people of color (black people, African Americans, whatever you deem the appropriate term).
...and so many other issues.


Issues are complex. People are complex. When we create false "either/or" choices, we ignore these complexities.

False dichotomies are dangerous.

They encourage closed-minded thinking.
They alienate us from each other.
They prevent us from seeking reasonable solutions or more creative options.
They discourage logical, intelligent discourse.
They ignore different contexts and variables that should be a part of our considerations about a variety of issues.
They are logical fallacies. Just ask my AP students.

But I guess it's easier to pick one side than to take the time to examine all the different angles, elements, facts, and outcomes of beliefs and situations. So maybe we're just lazy.

Or maybe when we take a "third" side, we are all by our lonesome, on an island by ourselves. We'd rather be part of one group or the other so that we're not alone. That's what I discovered when I started becoming more vocal about voting Libertarian: I got attacked and sometimes just politely questioned by BOTH Republicans and Democrats. There were very few people to rally around me. It was a bit exhausting.

Can we admit that some issues are complicated? Can we admit that people don't always fit into two neat categories?

Because if we can, I think we'll be more balanced, empathetic, and understanding, and THOSE are all attributes our world could use a bit more of... don't ya think?