Mackenzie Jane: A Birth Story

40 weeks came and went.  

Then went 41 weeks.

All was healthy and I had done this "late baby thing" before with Colton.  No sweat this time.  No need to panic.  We'll just plant the winter garden, or I'd delegate at least.

All the while, my doctor and I were hoping and planning for a VBAC (vaginal birth after Cesarean).  Colton's birth was about 30 hours of labor and ended in emergency C-sec due to fetal distress.  We were praying for a different line up for Mackenzie's birth- as I was a good candidate for a natural birth this round.

But God knew otherwise.  I went in for a final ultrasound and nonstress test.  Fluid was VERY low and we were given the option for induction or repeat cesarean.  At this point with Colton, there was at least some labor and dilation, he would ultimately go 9 days postdue.  The question was if this baby would drop or stay uneffaced like Colton, leading again to fetal distress.  My doctor was extremely supportive while I tearfully asked if our likelihood for another emergency C-sec was increasing if we went with induction and in our case, the answer was now yes.  

Finally Writing About IT... What I Learned In The Valley

It's been a year since I wrote on this little family blog.

Since that time, Chris and I walked through one of the darker valleys we have experienced as a married couple thanks to...  can I say it?  The dreaded "I" word?  

INFERTILITY.

Gosh I despised that word.  It still makes me straighten up in alarm.

I've wanted to write about it, but prayed that one day I could write on the "up side" of the valley, looking back down on to that dark place, thankful for where we've come.  It was hard to put my feelings into words during that forever time.  

I feared being judged.  

I feared not having the right thing to say.  

I feared lashing out on a bad day.  

I feared underestimating my feelings on a good day.  

I feared having to face yet one more "idea" to help.

I feared the idea of not wanting to be done, but being done.

I feared being angry at God.

I feared how I started to view my marriage.

FEAR is CRIPPLING.  We are not called to have a spirit of fear... (2 Tim 1:7)

I had friends who had just began this monthly battle of disappointments, testing, diagnoses, while others who were veterans in this war, claiming the fight for years and years.  What would I have to say that would be different?  Why were we being called to walk in this muck?  I wanted my testimony to revolve around victorious parenting, blissful marriage, vibrant community.  I mean, who doesn't, right?  BUT... that's not what we are promised... most definitely not.

We are NOT promised ANYTHING, but we are promised GOD HIMSELF.

This statement still brings me to tears.  He's enough.  Truly.  I'm so humbled thinking about how many times I beat my fist in the air asking WHY.  Why couldn't we have another baby right now?  Why wasn't my body working the way it was supposed to?  Why wasn't my plan working out?  All the while, I believed tearfully that His way was indeed better than mine, but I didn't have to love it right now.  

The ONLY thing that got me through these last few years was the truth of God's Word.  Everything else left me searching and questioning.  God met me in my mess with his comforting words, even on my worst days.  He left me wanting for nothing but His presence (Ps 23:1-3).  He was with me no matter how long this valley went for (Ps 23:4).  Only then could I go on with joy knowing He was doing something greater in me (James 1:2-3).  Resting in Him was my only hope while in waiting (Romans 12:12).

In God's infinite wisdom and timing, we have been able to conceive another baby, who is growing steadily by His grace.  I could shake my head in disbelief, but instead I'm left in awe and worship of the God who creates, prevents and gives life.  My little science brain tried to rationalize for so long, too many tests not lining up and my health care team disagreeing about what was really "wrong."  

If you're reading this and can relate on any level, please know it's okay to talk about it.  Not enough people know how to talk about fertility.  It's hard.  It's personal.  It can offend.  You can lose friends.  But we need people around us, especially the type that will just squeeze your hand at that baby shower, or text you that they are thinking of you when you're about to give up.  

Secondly, keep pouring into your marriage.  Remember that was your first gift in this whole journey.  You had each other.  Take care of each other.  Figure out HOW to love one another, cause it's gonna get really hard.  

Lastly, lean into the God who knows you.  He knows your hormones, your test results, your temperature, and when you're running from Him.  His word creates breath and life yes, but it also gives comfort in the waiting.  I can't explain His reasoning, but I do know His character.  It's loving, enduring and trusting... which makes "waiting" for anything in this world "nothing" in comparison to the glory that is in Him.

He's Changing My World

I became mother of a boy a month short of two years ago.  I had no idea that his "boyness" would change the way I see the world.  I mean, it dawned on me today that I drive differently, shop differently and literally THINK differently, with him in my life now.

I drive slowly around construction zones with the windows rolled down just so he can get a peak, or hear the beeping.

I preserve insects in a jar instead of washing them down the drain when rinsing my garden findings.

Every book I check out at the library has something to do with motorized vehicles.

A good day is when a tractor is found on a baseball field, dragging and adding dirt.  It's like a three in one.  Score!

Anytime I catch myself explaining why he can't go outside, I pause, slap myself and find his boots.  What was I thinking?

I feel a sense of accomplishment knowing the difference between a track excavator and a backhoe.

I never forget to put the garbage out, because that would be a sin. 

I try to shop at stores with "car carts" because life just goes better that way.

I never get a ball out unless there is a "bat" to go with it.  Otherwise, there are tears.

To be honest, people ask us all the time when we're gonna have another kid.  We have been praying toward those efforts for what seems like a while now.  There was a significant period of time when growing our family became almost an obsessive goal in my mind.  Until, I watched my kid playing with his trucks.  So intent.  So content.  So focused with the toy at hand.  Not worried about his next meal, or his next activity, or his next nap.  All attention on the trucks in front of him.

He's my truck right now.  I'm captivated.  Focused.  And I don't want to miss a thing, while worrying about the future.  God's got that part.

I love being a mother of a boy.  Especially this one.

My Next 30 years - Reflections on turning 30

You may have already heard... but I turned 30 yesterday.  I figured I'd jot down a few reflections for those of you interested in reading them.

1.  As the day approached, I realized I had been a lot more excited about entering the previous decade than this one.  The only good reason was because I knew that the next decade would be the big 4-0... and at that point you can't even pretend you're young any more.  But 29 years and 360 days old.... c'mon, I'm still in my 20's baby!  Not any more.  However, just one day into this new decade of life and I actually already like it.  Maybe it's the fact that I like responsibility and influence more these days, and I think both of those increase (or should!) with age.  Who knows.

2.  This past weekend was a significant one in that it represented many things coming together at once.  On an important-but-not-ultimate level, my house finally got a backyard.  4+ months of hard work, lots of stress, plenty of money, and tons of volunteer hours from friends has made the dream come true.  But more significantly I saw a lot of people this weekend, had friends over, and realized that I'm at the point where I have close friends who I've known "since I was a kid" but also close friends who just became close friends in the past 3-6 months.  That's when you know that a) you're getting older and b) you're blessed to still be making friends.

3.  I'm loving almost every minute of being a daddy.  I say "almost" only because the past week has been rough, and it's not the only rough week we've had with our little man.  But that pales in comparison to being able to be the father to a wonderful son.  Sure he'll start breaking my heart with his disobedience soon enough, and sure I'll get frustrated with him at times and then realize he's just like I was when I was a kid (unless he has Noelle's childhood temperament, in which case I'll be very happy!), but literally nothing in my life has compared to this relationship forming with my son.  I'm looking forward to this next decade with Colton.... and maybe another kiddo... and maybe a 3rd?  Whoa, slow down their tiger.

4.  I want my 30's to be more fun than my 20's.  But it will be fun in vastly different ways.  Fun in my 20's had a lot to do with sports and college for a while, then with moving to a new city and totally loving the adventure that Portland was for us.  Fun in my 30's will be filled with being a dad, planting even deeper roots in this local area of Placer County, going on family trips, serving in my church, improving the quality of life in my home one step at a time, and hopefully still playing a decent amount of golf.  But I believe the fun will indeed be better because it will be richer as the family grows.

5.  Tim McGraw's song "My next 30 years" has been in my head for a while.  I really do need to write some resolutions for my next 30 years.  Truth be told, I'm at the very beginning of the best 30 year period of my life (1-30, 30-60, 60-90... if the Lord keeps me here that long).  I've still got plenty of energy, I'm growing in wisdom with my finances, I love planning things with my wonderful wife, always trying to soak in the beauty of God's creation around me and wanting to be an integral part of expanding God's Kingdom in our region and around the world.  I do believe these next 30 years will somehow be better than the first set of 30 I've already lived.

Much more could be said but I want to keep it short and sweet.  For those of you well beyond your 30's and reading this, please provide some piece of advice, word of caution, or anything else you think I need to know in the comments section below :)

 -- Chris

Dirt for the Soul

We are re-doing our back yard at the moment.  Not to mention, maintaining the front yard.  And there's the side vegetable garden as well.  Home ownership will really keep you in the dirt.  If you enjoy that kind of thing.  We didn't know we did, until we got a little dirty.

I confess I like to have my stuff together.  Is there anything wrong with that?  I crave structure and routine.  And when I have it, I enjoy the room to create and allow for improvisation, but I definitely like to plan for that freedom.  And like many things in life, parenting is an opportunity for change in this area for me.  The first time I put my Tupperware back into the cabinet and he looked at me like "aw, thanks mom" and took it all out again with such joy... that's when I realized that this kid was gonna help sanctify me.  And I want to thrive in the process, not fight it.

My dad, also type-A/planner/clean-freak type, was finishing dinner while visiting for Colton's birthday.  He commented how blessed he was that my floors were dirty.  I call them "distressed" which means I can get away with the "barn look" a few days longer than most.  He said when I was a little girl, he saw me coloring one day and I was getting so frustrated at myself because I couldn't stay within the lines.  He pulled back, wide-eyed and realized this was the "him" in me that was coming out.  He said my floors give him hope that maybe my children might be a little more normalized because at least I was okay with dirt.

I laughed out loud, thinking about how it drove me crazy that I didn't get to clean my floors before the big birthday party that weekend.  But when I look down to see that my son is MOST happy when his bare feet and hands are ash grey from going in and out of our sliding door, traipsing in more dirt each time, I just shake my head in joy.  I can feel the good for my soul, and for his, right then and there- watching him make a mess, knowing that we can clean him later, and that he'll sleep better, and that hosing down your kid is such a better feeling than locking him inside just because you don't want to deal with the mess that day.

Colton loves dirt so much.  He'll squish it, lick it, hit it.  And while I know it's normal for little boys to enjoy all things earth and worm related, I think it's been especially good for me to have a boy.  I'm leaving so much of my clean self outside these days.  Weeding while watching him play with the hose, or replanting that same poor basil plant he keeps pulling out of the garden bed as if he'd finally found his favorite one.  It's all so good.  I love getting dirty with him.  I love picking him up even though that means getting my shirt mud swiped.  I love washing our hands together afterwards and watching the water go from brown to clear.  He's not thinking twice about what's happening, but I'm hoping this discipline of dirt play will instill a freedom to let the dirty floors go when I come to visit someday, and give him a love for cultivating earth that his father and I have discovered about ourselves.

Here's to more laundry, and grassed stained jeans- his and mine.  I love being a mom to a boy.  It's so good for my soul.

My Baby Turns One Tomorrow

A year ago tomorrow, I got to see my baby's face for the first time.  It's so strange to think I didn't know what he would look like, and now I can't get his face out of my mind.  That face has changed so much in the last year.  I have changed too.  No one can prepare you for the love of a child.  It's so magnificent.

In one year, our hearts have been filled to the brim with joy for Colton Sterling.  How is it possible that I can grow to love him more?  Thought I would reflect through some flash backs over the year... cause each time I was in the shower thinking about what to write about I got lost in these random memories.

My Ministry Is Sleeping

Tried to time it right.  Skipped my shower, teased my hair instead.  Husband brought out all the stops.  But after taking my exhausted son into my arms just 15 minutes before we should be leaving for church, he looked up at me with the most tired eyes and we both understood each other.  This day, this nap, this time, sleep was more important to his little body.  And it was momma's job to notice that.

I love the Church.  People from all different kinds of backgrounds and upbringings coming together to worship God.  Gatherings on Sundays were and are very important to my husband and I.  But something not talked about until you are in it, is the sacrifice Sundays become when you have little ones.

I'm seeing each week into this motherhood adventure that every day is different and each Sunday is a new decision.  So I haven't written off church.  But my expectations are low, and if we get there for half a sermon Praise Be To God!  And if my son needs a three hour nap that morning, Praise Be To God.  My ministry has been refocused for a little bit, (or just concentrated for a while) on my son.  My family is my first ministry right now.

My call to know intuitively what he needs in that moment is one I take seriously.  Last week that was a good ol' college try in the nursery and we made it through a whole service.  Today his growing body needs me not to push him.  Before having kids we loved having people over several nights a week, sharing life with other couples, spontaneous dinner parties... and now my ministry is to quiet the house down after a difficult day, turn off the noisy toys or just GET ON THE FLOOR that I haven't swept and play with the legos.

It takes discipline to find satisfaction in this "ministry" on some days, if I'm being honest.  But when I do find it, God reminds my soul that this indeed is EXACTLY what He is calling me to do.

Only by His power...

I hate setting goals.  Probably because of the let down if I don't make it.  I don't start over easily.  I take responsibility and finish to the end, even if it's ugly and no one's watching.  It's just who I am.  Knowing this, I don't make commitments lightly.  That being said, I have "pushers" around me.  Ones who know I'm not into change, and check in on me to make sure I'm growing as a person.

But after being convicted about my pessimism with resolutions on Sunday, I've decided to put on a new attitude (Thanks Scott).  "Expect great things from God and attempt great things for God." - William Carey.  He wants us to enjoy Him, and enjoy this life living for Him.

In starting a new year, I kind of want rest, to take a breather, and to be still.  These are good things.  But they can instill some laziness as a woman of faith, if in them too long.  So I'm going to simplify but expect God to rock our world again.  I'm going to sleep hard but expect God to wake me up when necessary.

And "attempt."  What a great word.  Making an effort to achieve or complete.  It implies really going for it, but in the end it's about the process.  God wants me to attempt.  Whether or not He'll use it is up to Him.  But the expectation of standing up and going is what counts.

I'm going to ATTEMPT to be the wife of my husband's dreams in order to bless the heck out of him.

I'm going to ATTEMPT to be the best possible mother for Colton- whether that means tough love or unending compassion.

I'm going to ATTEMPT to be a faithful friend when called upon.

I'm going to ATTEMPT to find my beauty and identity in Christ, and not in the expectations of this world.

I'm going to ATTEMPT all these things only by His power in me.  Any goal setting, or wishful thinking on my own accord will lead to guilt upon failure.  I know there is victory to be had.  And He's gonna get all the credit this time.

Happy New Year.

How do we do it?

I'm convinced that we're in the middle of what some moms call a "wonder week."  More whining.  Less sleeping.  Some growing, some teething, learning new skills.  It's all tough on their little bodies.  But it's tough on our bodies too.

It's pretty routine for me to wake up and my very first thought is not "what a beautiful day to be alive" (although, it should be, and I have so much to be thankful for).  But instead I immediately ask myself what I have going on, and maybe I should cancel everything and hide in bed.  I've been a mom long enough now that blaming things on hormones seems rather passe, so instead I find myself sarcastic and exhausted.

Then I look at this photo from this morning.  I see my son.  Wide mouthed.  Clinging to my shirt.  Who am I kidding.  He is so worth all this.  I must go on.

My friend called me on her one free moment yesterday (new mother of two... we mostly text and show our love through emodicons these days).  She reminded me that I did not possess this capacity to love this human sacrificially until he was here.  And then, God granted it.  Now I can extend it.  We laughed thinking about "all of His children" that He loves so fully and perfectly.  And we struggle to stay awake without coffee.  Ha.

So thank you God, for knowing what I can handle.  After a difficult week, my son graced me with a three hour nap window to shower, shave, fold laundry and write.  And thank you friend, for the phone call.  And thank you son, for being an amazing growing and changing child.  I may be tired, but I'm not going anywhere.

The Art of Showering

My advise to my nine-months-pregnant sister?

Shower.  Often.  And long.

I actually did this.  Showered twice in one day just because I could when I was pregnant.  I would sit in the shower just to drift off, pray and think.  Soaking up the silence and the water beads.

Now it goes a little like this:

My shower is all about strategy.  It needs to happen after I've exercised, but also after my son's best nap, and decent feeding, and in a moment of time where there really is nothing else that should take it's priority.  Finding that spot is tricky sometimes.  Welcome to 10 minutes of my world.

Photo cred: Alphamom.com

Step 1: During nap set up the bathroom.  Clean clothes, potential changes of clothes, phone, water, clean towel, and about 5 toys that have not been "revealed" that day.  These toys must be exciting enough to hold at least 60 seconds of attention and be small enough to sit on the tub ledge (concealed behind the outer curtain.)

Step 2: Child wakes.  Feed and change him.  Assess mood.  The last thing you want is a screaming child outside of few moments of peace.

Step 3: Strap child into bouncy chair.  Still praying this chair grows with him, seeing that it's your saving grace for this stage in his lives.

Step 4: Begin song #1.  I have a repertoire of about 10 songs I can sing on command including mostly hymns, choruses of country tunes and Christmas songs.  Of all the songs we hear throughout the year, it's the Christmas ones that have the sticking power.  Seriously- all 4 verses of Joy to the World?  No problem.  Plus they are jolly and kid friendly.

Step 5: Turn water on, remove clothes and deliver Toy #1.  It deserves an exciting introduction as to hopefully squeeze the most out of it, because there will only be four more options.  The clock has begun.

Step 6: Begin song #2, complete with changed lyrics about how you're shampooing your hair and how much mommy loves baby.  Then you hear that sound.  Toy #1 has fallen on the ground.  The bouncy seat starts bouncing to the rhythm of his whining.  You poke your head out, and he smiles.  30 seconds of peek-a-boo.  Then it's time for conditioner and Toy #2.  Once again brought from behind the curtain with great surprise and exaggerated excitement!

Step 7:  Song #2 suddenly becomes song #1 because your mind drifted off to what's for dinner.  Toy #2 drops to floor.  Panic and sadness abounds.

Step 8:  Failed attempt at peek-a-boo.  Duh mom, you already used that one.  Oh!  Peek-a-boo from the other side of the shower.  30 seconds bought to lather body with soap.

Step 9:  Toy #3 is violently thrown against the door.  Two toys left... to shave or not shave.  That is ALWAYS the question.

Step 10:  Toy #4 surprising lasts longer than usual.  You peek out, concerned, only to find him trying to lean out of the bouncy seat.  Time for Toy #5.  I guess we're not shaving.

Step 11:  Song #3 on repeat cause your mind is a little numb.  You make a mental note of how desperately you need to clean the shower- after all it is your little peace of heaven, sometimes.  Oh and get Shampoo at Costco.  And the grout needs scrubbing.  Should call mom about her tricks for that.  Does the phone need charging?  ...Then that sounds we all hate to hear... Toy #5 hits the floor.  You could lean out to get it for him to buy you another minute, but then there would be water all over the floor and you'd spend that extra minute cleaning it up anyway.  Nah... sigh.  It's time to get out. 

Now there's probably not time for make up, and you might as well just throw your hair in a bun.  Muster up song #4 complete with made up hand motions just so you can throw your clothes on.  All this for 10 minutes of your life.  

But hey... at least we're clean.  That's sayin' something. 

Six Months Reflection

I can't believe a little over six months ago, I held my baby boy for the first time.  I watched my husband change his first diaper.  I experienced real sleep deprivation.  And we became a family of three.  How has half a year already gone by?

As I have been reflecting for the last week, 2013 has been a major year of change for us.  We had a child, we bought a house, we have lost friends, new babies have been born, and our church has closed it's doors.  While all of these things have affected me in serious ways, the whole "having a child" thing is what has changed my everyday.

A friend of mine, mother of five, captures her moments of daily life through photography and posts them as #elevatetheeveryday.  I love this concept.  I'm realizing that motherhood with young children really can become a lot of repeating, watching development, waiting, and making everyday tasks ELEVATED so as to enjoy the most simple of things.  My hope is that Colton will learn this along with me.

This is why there's a song for changing his diaper.  This is why I actually wait to fold the laundry until he's awake and can play in it.  This is why I water the garden with him on my hip, so I can point out all the different vegetables to him.  This is why we eat lunch outside when we can, because the blanket on the grass makes such a cool sound.

Even when Colton is teething, growing or sick, I still try to stop and "smell the roses" as a mom.  Attempting to pause and remember that I'll be writing my reflections on a year before I know it, and all those pajamas I just ripped the tags off of will be boxed up and marked "baby clothes" before I can blink.

I'm also learning to be resourceful.  Because in order to "elevate the everyday," one has to plan to do so.  Things like when I'm chopping veggies for my scrambled eggs at 7am, I'll chop some for my sandwich and for dinner on the grill as well.  I'm giving myself set 20-30 minute chunks of time to clean while my kid is asleep.  Beyond that, I need to enjoy some time to myself (writing, reading, sleeping, skyping etc).

So six months in, Colton is sitting up, crawling, has two bottom teeth and is developing his personality.  He actually smiles on command for the camera, and loves to make little growling and spitting noises- such a boy.  We'll be starting solids at the end of the month which I believe he's going to love.  I read recently "food before one is just for fun."  I liked that.  It takes a lot of pressure off of it.  He'll go through likes, dislikes, plenty of messes and lots of discovery.

Here's to elevating the next six months.

Opening Windows

Sometimes you need to open a window.

It's amazing how stuffy it can get in my little world. I breath my own recycled air as I panic about silly things, worry about plans that don't happen, rethink things I should have said or done. Everyone needs some fresh air every now and then, and for me it was Saturday morning.

Colton, while a good sleeper these days, has been confused lately. Not sure where he got the idea that waking up bright-eyed and ready to play at 5:00am was a good idea (probably from his dad). Saturday morning, I embraced it, got up with my boy and had that cup of coffee even though I knew he'd go down for a nap by 6:30. I decided to use that time to do something I never have time for: reading. I was given a small book by a mother I respect right after I had Colton. Really wasn't sure when I was ever gonna read anything other than a text message these days, but it could not have come at any better time. Within minutes I was laughing and crying and choking on my coffee. What a refreshing feeling! In the first chapter, this mother of five children under five talks about "opening a window." She was right, I needed some fresh air and fresh perspective.

As soon as I let this air in, I realized how stuffy it had been. You never know when you're in the stuffy room until you leave it. Chris and I realized the other night, we had really been just letting life happen to us. And for a short time, after a baby is born, this is totally acceptable. But after a while, it's reasonable to live a little bit more on purpose again. What started out as pillow talk, ended up being a much longer discussion on our marriage, our habits, our future and where we were headed. We needed some new direction, and needed to establish our vision as a family again. It had been a while.

After a long drive and picnic lunch the next day, we connected and got on the same page. We tend to have these planning sessions every few years. We asked questions like "where do we want to live in x amount of years?" "what will my exercise routine look like?" "where will we have taken vacation?" "who will we spend time with the most?" "how much sleep will I get?" "what will we have saved for?" "how will we rest together?" "what will our family look like?"

We are still working through this routine, and it is different answering these questions this time, not just as a couple, but as a family of three now. But I have to say, since I "opened that window" on Saturday, I'm feeling refreshed, motivated and on point- even for a tired mother of a 5 month old.

God, give us the grace to live out these goals while keeping You as our center. Help me be the wife, mother, friend, writer, and observer I hope to become.

A New Anxiety

“And he described Jesus in one word. Are you ready for this, Noelle?  Jesus was RELAXED.”

A friend of mine shared with me about a podcast she had heard from Dallas Willard.  I can’t remember how we got there, but this was a divine word that I knew was not an accident.  I consider myself a fairly even-keeled person, but all that usually means is that I store the extra highs and lows on the inside until they ooze out and somebody’s gotta clean them up.  It’s not until my anxiety is called out by name am I able to deal with it.

Motherhood has brought on a new anxiousness.  Everyone calls it “natural” but anxiety is not healthy, even if it’s for good reason.  It eats away at you, one thought at a time.  While I want to be a more relaxed parent, I know it’s simply so not my style.  I’m trying to accept that.  I like structure, and knowing, and stats, far more than I like to just “let things happen.”  Because, what if I let things happen and it turns out horribly?!  How do my motherly instincts fit into this equation?

First it was feeding.  I experienced so much stress with my first two months of nursing; I’m surprised my body didn’t just give up all together.  By God’s grace, we fought through and my son has gained weight without issue, and now we have a wonderful feeding relationship.

Then came the sleeping issue.  Swaddling correctly, sleeping position, is he breathing, etc.  Then general health questions- why is he congested, what is this skin reaction, immunizations, germs in the church nursery and grocery store, indigestion… it’s enough to work one into insomnia, and at times it did.  By God’s grace, my son is figuring out his sleeping on his own, and all of those health worries have worked themselves out.  Imagine that.

Lately I’ve been worrying about pumping schedules, my husband’s role in parenting and my hesitancy to leave my child with other people- if my insecurities are worth listening to or fighting through.

Last night, my husband asked the dreaded “is there anything you need to talk about” question.  What started as a minor concern about the perception of others blew up into a complete projectile spit up (baby pun intended) of anxiety that had been building up itself.  Poor husband, didn't know he'd need a burp rag for the wife too.

Does caring/loving your child so much HAVE TO accompany such high levels of anxiety?  Does thinking about your child 24/7 HAVE TO include worrying about them 24/7?  I think the answer is no, but I realized this was something I most definitely was NOT doing.

When Dallas Willard described Jesus as RELAXED, we’re not talking about the ultimate vacation or spa day.  Jesus really, in every circumstance, trusted the Father.  This is a NEW place for me to trust God.  I may trust him with my marriage, our jobs, family drama, friendships… but suddenly I’m like the kid with the new toy.  I don’t want to share it.  It’s new, and I want to figure it out.  I want this part all to myself.  Why am I so relaxed about trusting the Lord in these other areas of life that are old hat compared to the new, but not this new one: my child.

If I could only stay reminded of how much more God loves my son than I ever can or will, I could finally relax.  I could finally trust.  My shoulders would drop away from my ears, my hands would soften and I could drift back to sleep, if I could just remember how to be like Jesus in this way: at times angry, at times staying up late, at times up early, at times in pain, at times with the weight of the world on his shoulders, but all the while- trusting that the will of the Father to be the ultimate good.

A Dad's Take on a Birth Story, Part 2: The Scariest and Greatest Night of My Life

We checked in to Sutter Roseville hospital at about 5:30pm, brimming with optimism that the moment had arrived - of course Noelle's optimism was tempered by the pain she was already in and what she knew was coming.  The head nurse was Kendall, a sweet and honest lady who informed us early on that what Noelle had gone through - thus far the hardest 24 hours of her life - was actually not real labor.  What the H-E-double-hockey-sticks was she talking about?  All those contractions were not the real deal?  By the book, it had only just begun.  Wow - it kind of took the wind out of our sails, but Noelle dealt with the news like the champ she is and was ready to meet the greater challenge ahead.

We got checked into our room and settled in for the long haul.  Noelle had registered a solid "4" on the dilation scale upon checkin, so it was hard to say how long the ordeal would take.  Lorrie and I were doing our best to encourage her and remain peaceful even though neither of us could possibly contain our excitement.  Lorrie just wanted to hold and spoil her new grandson... I meanwhile wanted to see this little guy who had already changed so many aspects of my life while remaining inside my wife's body.

6pm... 7pm... 8pm... The first few hours passed with plenty of

A Dad's Take on a Birth Story, Part 1: The Time Before the Time

See that guy in the photo?  Not the one in the beanie... the one smiling like a complete dork who has no idea what he just got himself into.  That's me, proud father of my firstborn son Colton Sterling Ritter.  This is the story, from a dad's perspective, about the birth of this little guy and about what my amazing wife went through to bring him into the world.  My intentions, just so you know, are two fold:  help myself remember the details and feelings of that fateful day (and night!), and encourage anyone facing this beautiful, life changing, and strange experience.

It all started way, way back on April 12, 2013.  It was a Friday evening and I'd just gotten home from work.  Colton was already 8 days past due, so it literally felt like every hour that passed could be the hour it would all get started.  Sure enough, Noelle's contractions began

Appreciating My Mother

We're at that just barely comfortable stage.  Colton is approaching three months old and he is letting us "think" we have him figured out.  Of course, everyone tells us that's when habits change, growth spurts occur etc.  Either way, we're enjoying him.  More smiles, more noises, less irritability- he really is such a good baby.  My mother said those exact words two days in.  My thought was "riiight Nana, how in the world can you tell?"  But sure enough, he really is a great baby.  Mom- you were right again.

While I'm on it, she has been right about a lot lately... she sold us on the perfect timing for a pacifier, convinced me to try out a new floor cleaner that has been wonderful and even gave Chris some vital lawn care advice the other day- new home owner stuff.  We're learning EVERY DANG DAY.

But these past three months, actually past

Father, Help Me Change

Heavenly Father,

There has been a great deal of change in my life over the past year, all of which I thank you for.  Whether I've immediately seen it as good or not, it has all been working out in my life for my good and your glory.  I know that you have been working in my heart to make me less selfish, and the change from "just the 2 of us" with Noelle and I, to the 3 of us with Colton has helped with that tremendously. I find myself more and more often thinking of Noelle and Colton first... not perfectly as you know, but more and more.  Thank you for all of your grace, and for the work of your Spirit in my life to lead me in that change.

While I've changed in many ways, I still feel there is

Learning from the Father and Son

In one of my classes for seminary, I am able to develop a few of my own assignments based on things I feel I need to learn and grow in.  One of the assignments I gave for myself was to read the book of John and find some connecting points between THE Father and Son relationship and other father-son relationships.  When I created the assignment for myself, I was not certain what I would find - after all, I did not want to become heretical in saying that my relationship with Colton is similar to Jesus and the Father in terms of divinity, perfection, and so on.  However, I have found that in a general sense there are points at which the human relationship and divine relationship does intersect, and so I'll list a few of those here:

Reflection #1:  Sons reflect their fathers

Jesus had a

Going From Two To Three

Dear Husband,

I know when I told you in your work parking lot that I was pregnant, late summer of last year, that you were excited.  I'm sorry I didn't include what would follow for the two of us.  Now I know...


I would have told you that everything I am about to say for the next nine months will sound ridiculous and crazy, but you are never allowed to admit that in the moment.

I would have told you that

Make Me Willing (Prayers From the Midnight Hours)

A happy boy after some daddy-son bonding time.

Let me be clear:  I know I do not have it as hard as my wife does throughout the day.  I get to work in a shop all day, shipping stuff around the world, and she is home every day, each one being an unpredictable day, being dictated around by a little 12 lb boy.  That has to be humbling.  My big responsibilities right now during the week are the midnight hour changing "opportunities" as I'm calling them.  A chance to get up before Noelle to change this beautiful kid and see what he managed to do to his diaper this time. It's really quite a game he and I have going.

All that to say, these changing opportunities have not always been a smooth ride.  Sometimes he's weeping and wailing so loud I can't hear myself think, and even though I want to lovingly whisper sweet nothing's enter his ear so he'll be a happy little boy, nothing works.  By the time Noelle comes in to feed him, my blood pressure is up and my words are better left unsaid (even though, sadly, they usually still get said).  Other times I've just been frustrated that I have to wake up at 12...2... 4:30 or something like that.  After all, Noelle is about to get up to feed him, right?  Why am I bothering to change him when I could just stay in bed?  It only seems necessary for one of us to be up.  This sucks.

Those are some of the thoughts that