Nicole was by closest friend in college; first as a friend on the same floor of Governor's Hall and later as my roommate in two and a half apartments. She was the maid of honor for our wedding. Although we haven't been as close since we finished school and she moved back to her home town, I love her just the same. Tonight she's on my mind because within the next 24 hours (hopefully) she'll become a mom. She went to the hospital this evening to be induced, and hopefully by morning her little guy will be here.
I wonder what it's like. Labor, I mean. At times I think of myself as such a weeny, but other times I've been surprised by how much pain I've been able to endure. I remember talking with my sister once about how much it hurts, and like many others, she said that the strange thing is that after it's over and you have the baby, you know you'd be willing to go through it all over again. The joy of having the new little one far outweighs the pain.
After we'd been trying to get pregnant for about two years, I came across John 16:21 that says this exact thing: "A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world." I'm sure I had read this many times, but this is the first time that it really meant something. Instead of it making me feel sad, it made me feel hopeful because it was like I knew that it was meant for me and our situation; that in our case the pain is just lasting a lot longer. But no matter how long it takes for us to experience the joy that is felt when we become parents, all of the anguish we've felt along the way will be forgotten...or at least not seen as something that wasn't worth going through to get to the end result.
For a long time, that verse gave me a lot of peace and hope. It still does to some extent, but I must admit that the last couple months have been rough. Back in October, I was nearly certain that I was pregnant. For several months prior, my cycle had been shorter at 25-26 days. So when October came, and we had made a good effort ;), and the days started passing into 27, 28, 29...I was certain that it must finally be happening. On day 29 I couldn't concentrate at work anymore so I raced home, and despite not being the best time we took a test in the last afternoon. It was negative, but of course, that was because it was the afternoon. So early the next morning, when I woke up around 4am, I thought...why not? It was negative and within 15 minutes I was hunched over with cramps. Ok, so I probably should have waited longer to test, but the timing still felt cruel.
Here we are two months later, and we're sitting on the eve of day 29. This month, we tried something new. I started charting my temperature. I know, we've been at this for over three years, so this may seem a bit late; but for some reason, I had always been very against getting "obsessive." I thought that taking my temp every day just seemed like a bit much, and that if I just paid attention to other signs (not obsessively so, mind you) and tried to time things right that we'd get pregnant; that God didn't need my help by knowing what my temp was. I'm not sure exactly what changed my mind; I think that I finally felt like I was going to go insane if I didn't do something. I also bought a whole bunch of vitamins and supplements which I took for approximately 5 days. (I've never been real great with pills, so I'm not exactly sure what I was thinking.)
Anyway, based on the temp chart I'm pretty sure that I know what day I ovulated and I'm pretty sure things were timed quite well. So of course, my hopes are trying their darnedest to get up...but I refuse. I can't take the huge let down. So of course, I'm trying to use reverse psychology and tell myself that I won't be pregnant and that that's ok because now I've got this temp taking thing down and this month I'll be great with the pills.
But despite my best efforts, that little voice of hope is rising up. The silly little voice that likes to come up with cool stories like: "Won't it be amazing when you find out that you're pregnant on the same day Nicole has her baby? And the timing will be perfect because Matt and Jen are coming up for Christmas; and if we have exciting news to tell them, it won't be hard being around them since she's due in May. And it will be so much fun making the announcement at Christmas dinner!!! Everyone will be thrilled and it will be picture perfect and it will be the first Christmas in four years that my heart doesn't ache to have a child to hang a stocking for...because next year it will be our turn." Yeah, my best efforts aren't so good when it comes to this.
And so I wait. And I remember that whatever comes this week, one of two things will happen: either I will be pregnant and the "anguish" we've been feeling will have a light at the end of the tunnel or I won't be. And in that case, I will count this month among that "anguish" that will one day be forgotten.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
The Power of a Preposition
It's amazing what a difference one word can make. Several weeks ago, I was lying in bed actually letting myself feel the sorrow that I hadn't let out in a while about this whole waiting for baby business. I won't lie: it was a night of not feeling so thrilled with God's plan. In fact, curled up in a sobbing mess I actually asked God, "Why are you doing this to me?" I was feeling extra bratty, so I repeated the question several times and hoped that I was really making Him feel bad for what He'd done. And then I heard it; or felt it...or whatever it is when you know the Spirit has spoken to your heart. I heard the reply, "I'm not doing this to you, I'm doing it for you."
I'm still not sure what to make of that. I haven't even told Ryan about it. And as much as analyzing is my thing, for some reason, I can't come up with any hypothetical stories of how exactly the difference that one word makes plays into our story. The easy answer is that it was God reassuring me that His plan is what's best for us. I know that, and definitely didn't mind the reminder. But I can't help but expect that there's much more to it. I don't know what it is, but I sure can't wait to find out. In the meantime, I'm going to try to focus on the power of that one little preposition. This isn't something God is doing to us; He's doing it for us. And that's pretty amazing.
I'm still not sure what to make of that. I haven't even told Ryan about it. And as much as analyzing is my thing, for some reason, I can't come up with any hypothetical stories of how exactly the difference that one word makes plays into our story. The easy answer is that it was God reassuring me that His plan is what's best for us. I know that, and definitely didn't mind the reminder. But I can't help but expect that there's much more to it. I don't know what it is, but I sure can't wait to find out. In the meantime, I'm going to try to focus on the power of that one little preposition. This isn't something God is doing to us; He's doing it for us. And that's pretty amazing.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
God, the wise bartender
Have you ever been standing at a bar (or waiting anywhere in line where it's kind of haphazard) and the bartender doesn't always get the whole "who's next" concept? You know that you're next in line, that you've been waiting the longest, and really you should be the one to be served next. You're even quite certain that the people around you know this, but when the bartender goes to help one of them no one says a word. I've had this happen before. It's not one of my biggest pet peeves, but I don't exactly welcome the exercise in patience building either. In the grand scheme of life, I'd say this experience is quite minor. That is, until I had a realization...
I realized that this is how I feel about God and waiting for a baby. I feel like I must not be doing the right thing to get God's attention. That my prayers must not be quite right...that there must be something different I need to do to get him to notice me and finally give me what I want. (This Budweiser commercial hit a little too close to home and may or may not have caused tears to well. I'm pretty sure I'm the prairie dog.) Yes, I'm aware of how silly this sounds now that I'm actually putting it in writing. But if you're reading this as someone who has had to wait or is waiting, you likely know what I'm talking about.
Ok, so perhaps comparing God to a bartender may seem a little odd and perhaps even disrespectful, but it's the best analogy I can think of. Several times over the last three years, I've had the feeling that someone else has butted ahead of me in line; that they somehow stole God's attention and got the baby that should have been intended for me. It's one thing when it's been casual acquaintances or "friends" on facebook that I haven't seen since elementary school; with them I don't feel quite so guilty when I give them the evil eye for having the nerve to cut in line. But it's a very strange feeling when the people that get "served" first are people I love: close friends, coworkers, and sisters-in-law.
If this wasn't an analogy for babies, and we were actually waiting to get a drink at the bar, I'd be happy to let any one of these people I love get their beverage of choice before me; in fact, I'd be happy to buy. But suddenly when it's something a bit more important, I find it hard to be that noble. I truly wish that my first reaction was of joy and happiness for the blessed mom-to-be, but unfortunately I have to muddle through quite a bit of other mucky feelings before I get to that place.
First, there's the stab of jealousy as I hear how "surprised they were it happened the first month." This is followed by an evening of tears and a pathetic little pity party for one, which includes a large dose of guilt for having not felt immediate joy at the wonderful news. This usually gives way after a few days and often leads to the ray of hope that maybe, just maybe, this is the friend that I'll get to be pregnant with; that I'll get pregnant this month and then we can do the whole "bonding over morning sickness" thing together. (Of course, we'll have adjacent hospital rooms and one day our kids will be best friends.) And then...within a week or two, when I get confirmation that's not going to be the case, I have another lovely evening of tears. And sometime that evening or in the days or weeks to come, I realize that a baby is something to be celebrated. I can't always get my heart to feel it as much as I would like, but the joy for my friend is there.
I wish I could say that the whole scenario mentioned above is past tense, that I've really matured over the last three years, and that those yucky feelings don't happen with each announcement we get. The good news is that God's been doing some work in my heart, and I'm happy to report that there seems to be a little less muck to wade through each time; and what used to take weeks, now lasts a matter of days.
Little by little, God is teaching me that He is a very wise bartender; He knows His customers very well and knows what we need better than we could ever imagine. I'm just glad He finally made eye contact, and that I saw His meaningful wink and nod. He isn't ignoring me; I've got His full attention. And right now, He knows that I don't need a "drink." For reasons unknown to me, He thinks the best thing for Ryan and me is to wait.
In the meantime, I am making a conscious effort to be thankful for His wisdom. Although I know this experience is what's best for us and will ultimately be much better than if I had just gotten my "drink" the first time I asked, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. And even though I may struggle in sharing in the joy of someone's joyous news, I am truly happy when someone else hasn't had to struggle through these feelings that can pretty much convince a girl she's going insane. My next assignment: spend the time that I used to spend wallowing in prayer; not just the selfish prayers that I'll get what I want, but prayers for the little ones hanging out in the tummies of some wonderful ladies I love. (Jodi, Nicole, Jen...if you ever read this, know that I am so very happy for you. I'm not sure when or if I'll be able to express it to you, but know that you and your little ones are in my prayers.)
I have officially equated babies to an elaborate system of punishments & rewards and drinks at a bar...perhaps there is good reason why I have not yet been entrusted with one. :)
Edit (10/17/10): Just got super exciting news!!! Jessica (a friend from my 2001 summer in Door County, who has been "waiting in line" six and a half years) just shared the joyous news that she and her husband, Clint, are expecting! A bit strange to realize that the range of emotions that I described above did not happen at all with this one announcement. This time I cried tears of joy and hope. Ah, hope! It feels good!
I realized that this is how I feel about God and waiting for a baby. I feel like I must not be doing the right thing to get God's attention. That my prayers must not be quite right...that there must be something different I need to do to get him to notice me and finally give me what I want. (This Budweiser commercial hit a little too close to home and may or may not have caused tears to well. I'm pretty sure I'm the prairie dog.) Yes, I'm aware of how silly this sounds now that I'm actually putting it in writing. But if you're reading this as someone who has had to wait or is waiting, you likely know what I'm talking about.
Ok, so perhaps comparing God to a bartender may seem a little odd and perhaps even disrespectful, but it's the best analogy I can think of. Several times over the last three years, I've had the feeling that someone else has butted ahead of me in line; that they somehow stole God's attention and got the baby that should have been intended for me. It's one thing when it's been casual acquaintances or "friends" on facebook that I haven't seen since elementary school; with them I don't feel quite so guilty when I give them the evil eye for having the nerve to cut in line. But it's a very strange feeling when the people that get "served" first are people I love: close friends, coworkers, and sisters-in-law.
If this wasn't an analogy for babies, and we were actually waiting to get a drink at the bar, I'd be happy to let any one of these people I love get their beverage of choice before me; in fact, I'd be happy to buy. But suddenly when it's something a bit more important, I find it hard to be that noble. I truly wish that my first reaction was of joy and happiness for the blessed mom-to-be, but unfortunately I have to muddle through quite a bit of other mucky feelings before I get to that place.
First, there's the stab of jealousy as I hear how "surprised they were it happened the first month." This is followed by an evening of tears and a pathetic little pity party for one, which includes a large dose of guilt for having not felt immediate joy at the wonderful news. This usually gives way after a few days and often leads to the ray of hope that maybe, just maybe, this is the friend that I'll get to be pregnant with; that I'll get pregnant this month and then we can do the whole "bonding over morning sickness" thing together. (Of course, we'll have adjacent hospital rooms and one day our kids will be best friends.) And then...within a week or two, when I get confirmation that's not going to be the case, I have another lovely evening of tears. And sometime that evening or in the days or weeks to come, I realize that a baby is something to be celebrated. I can't always get my heart to feel it as much as I would like, but the joy for my friend is there.
I wish I could say that the whole scenario mentioned above is past tense, that I've really matured over the last three years, and that those yucky feelings don't happen with each announcement we get. The good news is that God's been doing some work in my heart, and I'm happy to report that there seems to be a little less muck to wade through each time; and what used to take weeks, now lasts a matter of days.
Little by little, God is teaching me that He is a very wise bartender; He knows His customers very well and knows what we need better than we could ever imagine. I'm just glad He finally made eye contact, and that I saw His meaningful wink and nod. He isn't ignoring me; I've got His full attention. And right now, He knows that I don't need a "drink." For reasons unknown to me, He thinks the best thing for Ryan and me is to wait.
In the meantime, I am making a conscious effort to be thankful for His wisdom. Although I know this experience is what's best for us and will ultimately be much better than if I had just gotten my "drink" the first time I asked, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. And even though I may struggle in sharing in the joy of someone's joyous news, I am truly happy when someone else hasn't had to struggle through these feelings that can pretty much convince a girl she's going insane. My next assignment: spend the time that I used to spend wallowing in prayer; not just the selfish prayers that I'll get what I want, but prayers for the little ones hanging out in the tummies of some wonderful ladies I love. (Jodi, Nicole, Jen...if you ever read this, know that I am so very happy for you. I'm not sure when or if I'll be able to express it to you, but know that you and your little ones are in my prayers.)
I have officially equated babies to an elaborate system of punishments & rewards and drinks at a bar...perhaps there is good reason why I have not yet been entrusted with one. :)
Edit (10/17/10): Just got super exciting news!!! Jessica (a friend from my 2001 summer in Door County, who has been "waiting in line" six and a half years) just shared the joyous news that she and her husband, Clint, are expecting! A bit strange to realize that the range of emotions that I described above did not happen at all with this one announcement. This time I cried tears of joy and hope. Ah, hope! It feels good!
Sunday, September 19, 2010
My Twisted Mind
No human knows better than my husband that I have a very twisted mind. I'm well aware, too, and although I try to make it not be so twisted, sometimes it's quite a failed attempt. I'm ok with this; my twisted mind tends to keep things interesting. However, I'm not ok with it when the twistedness of my mind leads me to believe things that aren't the truth.
For much of our time waiting to have a baby, I have held the twisted idea that my not getting pregnant is punishment from God. I could list all the possible things that I think I might be getting punished for here; but I won't. It's not worth it, because it's not the truth. But this is how my twisted mind works. I talked this through with Ryan, and after looking at me like I had three eyes, he assured me this wasn't the case.
And as we talked, I realized that maybe it's not so much my mind that's twisted...but maybe it's my heart. Because in my head I know that's not how God works; Jesus made it pretty clear when posed the question about the man born blind that it was neither his parents nor the man that had sinned, but he was born blind so that "the works of God might be displayed in him" (John 9:2-3). And although I know that some bad situations are the consequences of sin, I feel like God has made it quite clear to me that this isn't one of those situations.
It was last year around Christmas time that He choose to speak directly to me about this. I hadn't really allowed myself to entertain the idea that I was being punished in some time. After talking it through with Ryan several months before, I knew how silly I was being. So I tried really hard not to think about it; but just because you don't think about something, doesn't mean you don't believe it.
So I was standing in church trying to worship; but I couldn't because all I could do was think about how God must be punishing me. The thoughts I hadn't been thinking came back full force - there was no denying it, I believed God was punishing me by not giving us a baby. In fact, I believed babies were God's ultimate punishment/reward system. For some, getting a baby was their reward for a life well lived. (Well done Mr. and Mrs. Jones! You saved yourselves for marriage, always rely on my timing without trying to control and plan out your whole life without my input, and you never make fun of people on tv. Here is your reward...a perfect little baby! In fact, you're so great maybe you should have six!) For others, the baby was their punishment. (Take that you teenage girl who gave in to temptation! You are hereby punished with a baby!) And for others like me, not getting a baby must be the punishment. (I hadn't quite figured out God's caption to go with this one, so I've got nothing...)
So anyway, I don't think I sang along with a single song because this is where my brain was. To be honest, pretty sure the first few minutes of the sermon passed by as well. And then, these verses appeared like writing on the wall (ok, they were being projected on the screen as part of the sermon, but it felt like I was the only one there and they were written just for me):
In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly division of Abijah; his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. Both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commandments and regulations blamelessly. But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren; and they were both well along in years. Luke 1:5-7
Whoa! This did not fit well into my babies = punishment/reward formula. I don't think God could have done anything more directly to prove to me that my theory was false. It was like He was standing right there saying, "Yeah, that's right; you don't have this all figured out. You make it seem so simple, but it's not. I'm working on something bigger here, and I need you to trust Me that I know what I'm doing."
The sermon was powerful that day, aptly named "God is Good" (12/13/09). Everything He does is not part of some punishment/reward system, but rather fits into this huge story that is driven by His goodness. He is good, and my having to wait for a baby does not negate that fact.
In fact, His goodness makes me more excited to see how this story ends. Because there was another verse written on the wall that day that brought me great peace: "He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth..." John 1:14 I know this was written thousands of years ago about John, but that day I felt like God was reassuring me that the same would be true for us. When the day comes for Baby Maki to join us, there will be many, many people who rejoice because of his birth. And they will be reminded by us and our story that God is Good.
For much of our time waiting to have a baby, I have held the twisted idea that my not getting pregnant is punishment from God. I could list all the possible things that I think I might be getting punished for here; but I won't. It's not worth it, because it's not the truth. But this is how my twisted mind works. I talked this through with Ryan, and after looking at me like I had three eyes, he assured me this wasn't the case.
And as we talked, I realized that maybe it's not so much my mind that's twisted...but maybe it's my heart. Because in my head I know that's not how God works; Jesus made it pretty clear when posed the question about the man born blind that it was neither his parents nor the man that had sinned, but he was born blind so that "the works of God might be displayed in him" (John 9:2-3). And although I know that some bad situations are the consequences of sin, I feel like God has made it quite clear to me that this isn't one of those situations.
It was last year around Christmas time that He choose to speak directly to me about this. I hadn't really allowed myself to entertain the idea that I was being punished in some time. After talking it through with Ryan several months before, I knew how silly I was being. So I tried really hard not to think about it; but just because you don't think about something, doesn't mean you don't believe it.
So I was standing in church trying to worship; but I couldn't because all I could do was think about how God must be punishing me. The thoughts I hadn't been thinking came back full force - there was no denying it, I believed God was punishing me by not giving us a baby. In fact, I believed babies were God's ultimate punishment/reward system. For some, getting a baby was their reward for a life well lived. (Well done Mr. and Mrs. Jones! You saved yourselves for marriage, always rely on my timing without trying to control and plan out your whole life without my input, and you never make fun of people on tv. Here is your reward...a perfect little baby! In fact, you're so great maybe you should have six!) For others, the baby was their punishment. (Take that you teenage girl who gave in to temptation! You are hereby punished with a baby!) And for others like me, not getting a baby must be the punishment. (I hadn't quite figured out God's caption to go with this one, so I've got nothing...)
So anyway, I don't think I sang along with a single song because this is where my brain was. To be honest, pretty sure the first few minutes of the sermon passed by as well. And then, these verses appeared like writing on the wall (ok, they were being projected on the screen as part of the sermon, but it felt like I was the only one there and they were written just for me):
In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly division of Abijah; his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. Both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commandments and regulations blamelessly. But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren; and they were both well along in years. Luke 1:5-7
Whoa! This did not fit well into my babies = punishment/reward formula. I don't think God could have done anything more directly to prove to me that my theory was false. It was like He was standing right there saying, "Yeah, that's right; you don't have this all figured out. You make it seem so simple, but it's not. I'm working on something bigger here, and I need you to trust Me that I know what I'm doing."
The sermon was powerful that day, aptly named "God is Good" (12/13/09). Everything He does is not part of some punishment/reward system, but rather fits into this huge story that is driven by His goodness. He is good, and my having to wait for a baby does not negate that fact.
In fact, His goodness makes me more excited to see how this story ends. Because there was another verse written on the wall that day that brought me great peace: "He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth..." John 1:14 I know this was written thousands of years ago about John, but that day I felt like God was reassuring me that the same would be true for us. When the day comes for Baby Maki to join us, there will be many, many people who rejoice because of his birth. And they will be reminded by us and our story that God is Good.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Waiting is the answer.
Tonight while reading my first purchased "infertility book," I was most struck by these words:
"Waiting is not unanswered prayer. Waiting is the answer. For reasons known only to God, you, too, must wait for a child right now. But do not think this is some second-best, unexpected plan for your life. This is God's anticipated best plan for your future. Waiting is no mere interruption or a nasty wrench in the works. God uses waiting as an active tool in His hands as He shapes our destiny -even if we don't seem well-equipped to enjoy it!" (Ginger Garrett, Moments for Couples Trying to Conceive.)
Wow...that was exactly the reminder I needed to bring me a measure of comfort tonight. I find it interesting that I titled this blog "Waiting for Baby Maki." I so want to be a good steward of this time He is giving me. I truly believe there is a reason and a purpose. What I need to learn is to spend less of the time analyzing why He's making me wait and more time allowing Him to work in me to fulfill the purpose of the wait.
The book that I quoted above ends each devotional with a short prayer. Here's my paraphrase of the one from this chapter:
Lord, please help me be a better steward of this time of waiting. Help me to trust that it's a blessing and not a curse. Help Ryan and I to overcome our doubts and impatience. I know You have already blessed us over the past three years, and I want to look back and remember what You have done. Help me to trust that You will continue to work, no matter how long the wait. Amen.
My hope is to use this blog as a place to keep track of what God has done and has yet to do, so that we'll always have a reminder. I know the energy I spend feeling angry, bitter, sad, jealous, inadequate, etc. is not the purpose He has for this time. I'm guessing that efforts to completely banish these feelings would be in vain, but I'm confident that this renewed hope in His good purpose for the wait is a step in the right direction.
"Waiting is not unanswered prayer. Waiting is the answer. For reasons known only to God, you, too, must wait for a child right now. But do not think this is some second-best, unexpected plan for your life. This is God's anticipated best plan for your future. Waiting is no mere interruption or a nasty wrench in the works. God uses waiting as an active tool in His hands as He shapes our destiny -even if we don't seem well-equipped to enjoy it!" (Ginger Garrett, Moments for Couples Trying to Conceive.)
Wow...that was exactly the reminder I needed to bring me a measure of comfort tonight. I find it interesting that I titled this blog "Waiting for Baby Maki." I so want to be a good steward of this time He is giving me. I truly believe there is a reason and a purpose. What I need to learn is to spend less of the time analyzing why He's making me wait and more time allowing Him to work in me to fulfill the purpose of the wait.
The book that I quoted above ends each devotional with a short prayer. Here's my paraphrase of the one from this chapter:
Lord, please help me be a better steward of this time of waiting. Help me to trust that it's a blessing and not a curse. Help Ryan and I to overcome our doubts and impatience. I know You have already blessed us over the past three years, and I want to look back and remember what You have done. Help me to trust that You will continue to work, no matter how long the wait. Amen.
My hope is to use this blog as a place to keep track of what God has done and has yet to do, so that we'll always have a reminder. I know the energy I spend feeling angry, bitter, sad, jealous, inadequate, etc. is not the purpose He has for this time. I'm guessing that efforts to completely banish these feelings would be in vain, but I'm confident that this renewed hope in His good purpose for the wait is a step in the right direction.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Part Him/Part Me
I didn't want kids...ever. At least that's what I "always" said. In high school I was pretty adamant that "my" would never be a word I would use in reference to children. I had zero motherly instinct. I'd never been one to play with dolls...at least not of the baby variety. Babysitting was definitely not my thing. I just didn't ever see the kid thing happening for me, but that was mostly because I never tried to see it.
And then, one night I saw it. I remember exactly where I was when the vision hit me. It was early 2003 and I was in my car with a certain boy, turning off of Lake St onto 2nd Ave going back to my Fulton St apartment. Ryan was talking about how he'd always wanted kids. I don't think we were even officially dating yet, but the idea of a little kid that was part him and part me flashed through my mind...and in that instance, everything changed. I, Tessa Renee Swanstrom, wanted a child. But not just any child...I longed for Baby Maki.
Strange to think back on the moment now. Over seven years ago, and I think the picture I see of Baby Maki in my mind is still quite the same. Dark hair, dark eyes...mostly Maki. The only thing that changes on occasion is if Baby Maki is a boy or a girl. These days, he's a boy. And I really wish you could meet him; he's super cute.
And then, one night I saw it. I remember exactly where I was when the vision hit me. It was early 2003 and I was in my car with a certain boy, turning off of Lake St onto 2nd Ave going back to my Fulton St apartment. Ryan was talking about how he'd always wanted kids. I don't think we were even officially dating yet, but the idea of a little kid that was part him and part me flashed through my mind...and in that instance, everything changed. I, Tessa Renee Swanstrom, wanted a child. But not just any child...I longed for Baby Maki.
Strange to think back on the moment now. Over seven years ago, and I think the picture I see of Baby Maki in my mind is still quite the same. Dark hair, dark eyes...mostly Maki. The only thing that changes on occasion is if Baby Maki is a boy or a girl. These days, he's a boy. And I really wish you could meet him; he's super cute.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Three Years
I like to plan things...not so much on a small scale, but on a large one. Though I may not have a plan for the weekend, I usually have a general plan of how I'd like the next year or so of life to go. I think I've always been this way, and the odd thing is that things have usually gone very close to my plan. I've coasted along merrily, with few bumps in the road. That is until Ryan and I decided it was time to have a baby.
Since the time we were married, we knew that we wanted to have a few years of "just us" time. At least I knew that...perhaps Ryan was just being a good sport and went along with my plan. In my plan, we would wait at least two years. As the two year mark came, I decided that having a baby in May would be a great idea, so we would wait to start trying until closer to August, so we could have our May baby. I laugh at my former self now...I really believed it would go just as planned.
When August was just a month away, my first ever major bump in the road arrived in the form of a grapefruit sized cyst in my left ovary. Extreme pain, two trips to the emergency room, and several visits to Dr. Stenzel later, surgery was scheduled for August 27th. How ironic...the month my plan involved getting pregnant. Instead, I had surgery to remove the cyst...and my left ovary, fallopian tube, and appendix, too. Dr. Stenzel assured me the right side looked "good to go" and that this was enough.
Three years later, and I'm looking back at the journey Ryan and I have been through. I wish I had kept a journal throughout...there's been so many hard days, but so many good ones too. I wish I had evidence of them all. So I'm starting now. God has blessed us throughout, and I know without a doubt that only good will come from this experience...as long as I don't get in the way of His good and perfect plan.
Since the time we were married, we knew that we wanted to have a few years of "just us" time. At least I knew that...perhaps Ryan was just being a good sport and went along with my plan. In my plan, we would wait at least two years. As the two year mark came, I decided that having a baby in May would be a great idea, so we would wait to start trying until closer to August, so we could have our May baby. I laugh at my former self now...I really believed it would go just as planned.
When August was just a month away, my first ever major bump in the road arrived in the form of a grapefruit sized cyst in my left ovary. Extreme pain, two trips to the emergency room, and several visits to Dr. Stenzel later, surgery was scheduled for August 27th. How ironic...the month my plan involved getting pregnant. Instead, I had surgery to remove the cyst...and my left ovary, fallopian tube, and appendix, too. Dr. Stenzel assured me the right side looked "good to go" and that this was enough.
Three years later, and I'm looking back at the journey Ryan and I have been through. I wish I had kept a journal throughout...there's been so many hard days, but so many good ones too. I wish I had evidence of them all. So I'm starting now. God has blessed us throughout, and I know without a doubt that only good will come from this experience...as long as I don't get in the way of His good and perfect plan.
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