diving into the deep end

I've announced it to my family, friends, and coworkers. I've written about it in 2 posts so far (3, counting this one) on this, my little corner of the Internet. I've added a ticker to my Facebook page. I've even shown up places wearing a maternity shirt (though in my defense, it looks very chic and un-maternity). I've mentioned I've had two beautiful ultrasounds and several reassurances from those with medical expertise that all is well and will likely continue to be well. I've had countless friends pray over me, with me, and for me.

So why am I still holding my breath?

Last night, at our church's leadership meeting, 70 of Grace's movers and shakers gathered in the church offices to eat BBQ, socialize, and dream together about how we can advance God's kingdom, particularly in the Orlando area. Nothing about babies. We ate, we prayed, we cast some great visions, we laughed, we listened to motivating talks, we ate some more. Still nothing about babies. I swallowed some of my anxiety and shyness and talked with people I hardly knew, along with old friends and familiar faces. I even got to eat a little BBQ with no gastrointestinal consequences. Again, no baby talk.

Except for maybe that icebreaker at the very beginning, a trivia game about the church.

The questions started out well enough: name the church's mission statement, guess how many diapers our children's director changed in one service, name the year when Mike decided to shave his head for good (totally works for him). And then... "Name the staff member whose wife is pregnant!" When it came time for the answers, everyone shouted out, "Jason!" and clapped and congratulated us and whooped and hollered. It was only slightly embarrassing.

As they moved on to the next question ("Which volunteer group gets the most recognition at Grace?**), I got this funny feeling in my my stomach, like butterflies. No, it wasn't the baby kicking - that would be a lot lower. The butterflies turned into some major tidal waves. And I had to step out for a second. Even when I came back, when the meeting ended and everyone was standing around chatting, I could still hear my name in conversation occasionally, and I felt my stomach flop around.

I can't tell you why I freaked out, having that very public confirmation that this pregnancy was very public and known. Maybe it's all the pregnancy hormones, the very common pre-birth jitters every mom faces before the big day arrives. Maybe I just got a little embarrassed. But let me tell you, for as much as I wanted the world to know that I am finally and successfully pregnant, that it wasn't a miscarriage or a false start, I also knew that I have no guarantee, no promise that nothing bad will happen, and sometimes, that lack of guarantee gives me the chills. And I can't remember any pain or embarrassment greater than the last time I had to tell all those people I told that I was pregnant that, no, it didn't work out, the pregnancy failed. I couldn't even tell my family, except to have Jason call and break the news.

Being pregnant has been a true test of my faith. I thought that two good ultrasounds under my belt would be reassurance enough, that I could start dreaming of pink ruffles or blue stripes and finally rest easy. But a life like that, as idyllic as it seems, leaves no room to need my God, and oh, do I need Him now. I need Him to carry this baby safely through the next several months, through the years of growing and exploring and falling down and heartache and joy and learning. I need Him to carry me when my child is the living representation of my heart beating outside of my body, and all the days I cannot hold that heart close enough to me. I need Him to tell me that He is in charge, especially when I am feeling completely helpless and out of control. Last night was one of those moments, a moment of pure fear and panic at the thought of all those good wishes and congratulations becoming empty and for nothing.

Trust in Him with all of your heart, and lean not on your own understanding...


**Just in case you wondered, the volunteer group that gets the most recognition? Refreshments, aka the Donut Gang. You can have a Sunday without worship music, without children's services, and even without the pastor teaching, but there is a holy uproar if there isn't some Krispy Kreme waiting for you when you get to church!

the back-story

So, yes, I've had quite the secret to keep lately, being pregnant and not telling anyone! Jason and I wanted to wait until we were in the safety zone (second trimester with at least one good ultrasound under our belts) before spilling the beans. Here's sort of a recap of the past few months...

(Note: these next few paragraphs make reference to all sorts of things that might make you uncomfortable. Or not. If just knowing that I am pregnant is information enough, then bypass this post. For the curious, the pregnant, and the unfazeable few, here you go:)

We'd had some bad luck trying to become parents in the past. We made an appt for early January to see a fertility specialist, a physician who came highly recommended and who had also struggled through infertility with his own wife. We were looking forward to the appointment, eager for some answers and ready to do whatever we needed to do to make a successful, healthy pregnancy.

Then around the holidays, I start feeling all bloated. Moody. Hormonal. The "girls" were getting kind of sore. And the always-irregular monthly event wasn't showing up like I thought it would. Realize, of course, that Jason and I had not been trying to get pregnant. And Jason would be the first to say that there would be absolutely NO way I could be pregnant, as certain activities are necessary for that to happen, and those activities had not happened (for several reasons) for quite some time. He was sure about that. Definitely not happening.

Well, except for that one time.

And so, we found ourselves staring at two very strong, very pink lines, and wondering out loud, "You've GOT to be kidding me. I mean, SERIOUSLY. Come on." The fertility appt was only about a week and half away at that point, and the very large OB/GYN practice I normally see could never get me in that fast, even with chocolate and bribery, so we decided to keep the appointment, knowing that we could get an ultrasound done there, see if things were okay or not, and go from there. To be perfectly honest, we didn't allow ourselves to get excited: we've had false alarms with positive pregnancy tests before, and if this wasn't meant to be, we didn't want to create an even bigger fall by getting our hopes up. Still, the prenatal vitamins came out of hiding (ugh) and tried to take care of myself.

At the fertility appointment, an amusingly inept medical student took my history ("lymphoma? Lemme see how to spell that...") and talked to me about different options for fertility treatment... and then I told her that I was pretty sure I needed to have an ultrasound because I was pregnant. Her eyes got really, really wide, and I was quickly ushered into the ultrasound room. I met the doctor for the first time with my legs spread wide apart... but I didn't care, because the ultrasound tech was already showing me the strong heartbeat and a squirmy little baby, about 9 weeks along! Jason and I were dumbfounded. And the doctor shook our hands and said that we probably didn't need him anymore ;-)

Fast forward a few weeks, and our second ultrasound showed the same squirmy, bouncy baby, still with the strong heartbeat and perfect everything. We got a due date (Aug 21) and a picture (click here to see) and confirmation that we were going to be parents very, very soon!

Since then, I've been flooded with all sorts of emotions. We told the parents, who were all completely beside themselves with delight. We shared the news with friends, including a select few who had known since the very beginning and had been relentlessly on their knees, praying for us. We kept telling ourselves the good news, mostly in disbelief, then later with much excitement and joy.

And all the nausea, heartburn, soreness, mood swings, and endless doctor visits in the world cannot sway me from knowing that I am absolutely the most blessed woman on earth right now. God is good, all the time.

More updates to come...

Monday may I correct you: mmmpfphmm

I had very good intentions for this week's Monday May I. I thought about addressing the simple your/you're debate as part of the ongoing Apostrophes Are Crucial trend. I considered talking about that/which usage. I even briefly thought about using the culturally-sensitive ask/"aks" interchange. I had such high hopes, I did.



But as I type this, I am flat on my back, on my living room couch that now has a permanent imprint of my backside on it, I'm sure. I'm gingerly sipping some citrus Gatorade and nibbling unsalted saltines, hoping I don't upset the evil Tasmanian devil that resides in my stomach. I haven't slept in over 24 hours, and yet, Taz won't calm down enough for me to catch even a little shut-eye, even though I am quite tired. And so, Monday May I Correct You is - for this week at least - Monday May I Please Stop Hurling. I'm guessing no one really wants to hear about that.



Ladies and gentlemen, I am certainly not complaining, though in the past I've been quite the wimp about pain and malaise and feeling under the weather. No, I am braving every turn of the stomach and queasy feeling, every dry heave (sorry) for a good reason:







I can't wait to meet our newest family member, due August 21, 2008.

Just wanted to introduce y'all.

Now, go work on your grammar skills. And get me some more Gatorade, please.



PS - Picture above is NOT aforementioned evil Tasmanian devil. At least I don't think so.

happy valentime's day, a bit late

Once again, yes, it's Valentime's Day in our world. I don't know when or where we started calling it that instead of Valentine's Day, but it stuck and there you have it. J and I didn't do much to celebrate it tonight: Thursday nights are rehearsal nights for our worship team. But we all brought sweets, Chad gave us Warheads and a fantabulous copy of the church's 5th anniversary celebration from last week, and we all rocked out. Plus, I didn't have to work, and J and I got to occupy the same bed last night, AT THE SAME TIME. At least for a few hours.

Of course, with my wacked-out sleep schedule, I was only able to sleep until about 4am - since I'm used to being up all night - and then I was wide-awake, hungry, and completely unable to go back to sleep. Sigh...

Working the night shift, I haven't seen a whole lot of my husband. Sure, you think there will be lots of opportunity since I only work 3 nights a week... but sometimes he works late, or I have somewhere I need to be, or we both have rehearsal (we at least have that together), added in with my complete inability to sleep for more than 3 hours during the night, and, well, it makes for scanty us-time. (It also makes for scanty friend time as well, so to all my friends: I am not a hermit. I still love you all. Really.)

So, I'm mega-excited about next week: I work the early part of the week (Sun, Mon, Tues nights), have a few days off to hopefully attend to my sorely-neglected apartment, catch my breath, and then head off for a church staff retreat in Ocala with some very cool people at a nice hotel. And that's not even the best part: after the staff retreat ends on Monday afternoon, Jason and I are heading to a B & B in historic Gainesville to spend two whole days and nights together in a quaint little cottage with a Jacuzzi, and we will properly celebrate Valentime's Day and a very promising upcoming year for us.

And just in case you haven't seen it yet on some of my other favorite people's blogs, here's what I do every Sunday morning... and why I love it and all the people there. That's Chad at the very beginning... and see who else you can spot!



PS - We rent the actual building from a local Seventh-Day Adventist church, which is why you see us building everything up and tearing it down again instead of just leaving it as is.

Monday may I correct you: lose vs. loose

Oh, I know. I haven't checked in AT ALL since last Monday, even though I said I would. I promise this won't become the grammar corner, though I have to admit that I received a whopping four comments on last Monday's post, more than I typically get, so maybe I'm on to something.

Anyway, this won't be too long. I see the lose/loose mix-up everywhere, because - let's face it - there aren't too many people who aren't trying to drop at least a few pounds these days. Or their favorite sports teams don't win all the time. Or they chronically misplace things. Whatever. It's all over the place.

So, to clarify: "lose" is a verb. It's an action being done. As in, "I would like to lose some weight." Or, "I hate it when the Packers lose the Super Bowl." (hehe hehe) One "o" followed by a "z" sound.

"Loose" sounds like "noose" or "goose". It's also most commonly used as an adjective used to describe, not a verb. (You can actually "loose" something, as in making it loose/less tight, but that's another discussion) As in, "I lost weight, so now my clothes are loose." Or, "That bolt is loose and needs to be tightened." Or, "I have a loose tooth". Two "o"'s, followed by a hissy "s" sound. It describes something that is not tight or secure.

So, if you write that you want to drop some pounds, you want to lose weight (action you want to do) so your jeans will be loose (description of how you want your jeans to be). If you "loose" weight, that creates the very unattractive picture of your exact same weight, all your belly rolls still gathered around your waist, just... less dense. Floppy. Not as tightly connected to your body. And that's just gross, people. No one wants that.

On that same subject, if you want to insult someone, they are a "loser". One "o", "z" sound. They are not a "looser", which would mean they run around making things less tight.

Ready to put your new-fangled knowledge to the test?

--I'm so fat. I need to lose/loose some weight.
--If you screw up the next game, we're going to lose/loose the tournament.
--Bubba Jo punched me in the face, so my two front teeth are a little lose/loose.
--My iPod shuffle is so tiny, it is easy to lose/loose.
--In my day, women who slept around were called "lose/loose".
--I can't believe that jerk stood me up. He's such a loser/looser.

Answers:

--I'm so fat. I need to lose/loose some weight.
--If you screw up the next game, we're going to lose/loose the tournament.
--Bubba Jo punched me in the face, so my two front teeth are a little lose/loose.
--My iPod shuffle is so tiny, it is easy to lose/loose.
--In my day, women who slept around were called "lose/loose".
--I can't believe that jerk stood me up. He's such a loser/looser.

Monday may I correct you: its/it's

Okay, I confess: I am a grammar nut. I don't always practice what I preach, especially when blogging, because you will see me start sentences with "and" and "but", end sentences with prepositions, and throw in random slang ("Fo' shizzle") that I have neither the license nor the street cred to use. (See? "Cred." Perfect example.)

And (!) now that I have completely dorked out for you, let me make my original point. Like I mentioned, I don't always write as I should, but I do have some major grammar/wording sticking points, mistakes that, when I see them, stick out like huge red pimples on the nose of prose. Instead of bitching about it, I thought I would share what I know. It's not much, but here goes:

(I sense a blogging series coming on. A short one, I promise. Bear with me.)

Today's lesson: its and it's. Know the difference? Take this short quiz to see:

--The cat swished its/it's tail as it left the room.
--Its/It's such a gorgeous day outside.
--Its/It's silver waterfall scenes are breathtaking.
--Its/It's so dark outside that I cannot see its/it's hand waving at me.
--The bird lifted its/it's wing into the air.

Think you got it? Answers:

--The cat swished its/it's tail as it left the room.
--Its/It's such a gorgeous day outside.
--Its/It's silver waterfall scenes are breathtaking.
--Its/It's so dark outside that I cannot see its/it's hand waving at me.
--The bird lifted its/it's wing into the air.

If you got them all correct, congratulate yourself and go make me some potstickers. I'm hungry.

If you didn't and you want to know how to be the Its/It's pro, read on.

So, how do you know which one to use?

If you are referring to possession, use "its". Yes, I know that's confusing, especially since we are always told to put an -'s at the end of things to make them posssessive: Anne's shoes, Gary's car, the girl's purse, the school's funds. Trust me, though, that "its" falls outside of that rule. This next point might clear it up a bit, too:

"It's" stands for "it is". If you are completely stumped as to whether to use "its" or "it's", ask yourself this: does the sentence still make since if I say "it is" instead of "its"? Example:

Its/it's a beautiful day. Which one to use? Hmmm... "it is" a beautiful day. Yup, still makes sense. The correct one is "it's".

The cat drank its/it's milk. Stumped again! The cat drank "it is" milk. Well, that just sounds unnatural and lame. Must be "its".

Bottom line: if it still makes sense to say "it is" instead of "its/it's", then use the apostrophe. If it sounds completely weird, dump the apostrophe like a bad boyfriend.

Thank you, boys and girls. Let's go out for recess now...

love/hate, vol. 2

love: our church's most excellent 5th anniversary worship concert this morning, complete with stage fog, cool lights, lots of great food, and the best band EVER! (Love you guys!)

hate: overdid it with the food, and ended up missing Shannon & Dan's Super Bowl get-together tonight. Ughhhhhh...

love: all of my awesome friends, most of whom I saw this morning and even more who have been showering on me with love, especially lately, and who think I am awesome in return

hate: that I still try and make people like me, sometimes desperately, particularly people from my past (e.g. high school) who don't really care too much about me, leaving me with less time to appreciate my current friends who love me.

love: I finally came to the realization about the above hate... and I'm letting go and investing in the people in my life now.

hate: that you can forgive but never quite forget the mean things people say or write about you...

love: that there's almost always something I like to watch on one of the three PBS stations we get, especially cooking shows and the really cool nature shows

hate: that they haven't done another Frontier House since the first one in '02.

love: those bare minerals infomercials on TV. Even better was my Christmas gift from Katie, a gift certificate to Ulta so I can get me some of my own Bare Minerals...

hate: the Appliance Direct infomercials that run for hours. Only in Orlando... wakkie nunu!

love: Target. I picked up a bunch of random-yet-necessary stuff AND found an awesome shirt for this morning's concert.

hate: the way I can so easily spend money there...

love: all of my awesome friends. Yeah, I know I said it already.

hate: no hate. :-)

then it's trash

I just saw a television commercial for those Special K protein water mix-in powders. A woman is leaving her office for the evening, walks into the break/lunchroom, and sitting on the top of the trash is one untouched slice of birthday cake. On top of the trash. Not on the lid, but on a pile of used food-crusted paper plates, utensils, etc.

I'm sorry, maybe the germ-o-phobe in me is flaring up, but if it's in the trash, then isn't that piece of cake... TRASH?

And does it make anyone else think of this?



PS - I think I might still buy the protein water mix-in packets.

confessions

I've been inspired by this post over at Love is Blonde. Read them at your own risk...

I am terrible about returning phone calls. Seriously terrible.

I will often delete a voice mail before I finish listening to it.

I get totally creeped out at the "technical difficulties" voice guy on TV. This morning, I was trying to watch Regis and Kelly, and there was no sound, and THAT VOICE came on and said, "The station is experiencing technical difficulties, please do not adjust your set," and my whole body broke out in goosebumps.

Yesterday, I did not vote.

I had a goldfish jump out of its bowl once, and I found it one morning, still and lifeless on the carpet. I saw it, turned around and took a shower, and made my roommate pick it up and put it in the water 20 minutes after I'd first discovered it. I pretended I hadn't seen it before.

It was still alive.

One of my best friends from college had adorable twin girls over a month ago (joining their equally adorable bigger sister, Sarah, aka The Boo), and I still haven't been to see her. Love you Rach! I'm coming by...



I want to win the lottery, just enough so that I can be a SAHM for my kids. (This, of course, would require me to actually purchase a ticket.)

I detest the color orange.

I haven't done any serious exercise since November.

At my last doctor's appt, in the column that asks how often I exercise, I marked "3-4 times per week".

apolitical

I've never been really big into politics. This statement will likely horrify my brother, the politics major and die-hard Republican. But it's true. And he probably already knows it anyway. He still thinks I'm awesome.

There are several reasons why, when confronted with all the primary coverage on the nightly news, my eyes glaze over and I turn the channel to Friends reruns instead. One is that on a most fundamental level, I do not trust any politician. I mean, I'm sure they're nice people and would probably make interesting dinner guests, if the possibility presented itself, but it all seems like a huge popularity contest anyway, and then all those promises? Watered down and lost in the bureaucracy of Washington. I'm not saying I want a dictatorship with one voice only - noooooo - but even the candidate with the best ideals inevitably has to contend with the five bajillion committees and subcommittees to get anything to happen. So, not much happens. Except war and taxes, both of which I don't like.

Second, I hate confrontation. I hate argument. This is why I never even considered law as a career. So, televised debates where candidates rip each other up and argue endlessly? Horrid. Why do they have to resort to tearing each other down? It makes me dislike and distrust them even more.

Third, even when I do know where each candidate stands, I never know how to vote, anyway. My family has been mainly Republican. I voted Republican for many years because I respect my family and their opinions, and I figured they were on to something pretty good. But to be honest, I didn't know what being Republican meant. I thought it was a family thing. So I looked it up. And it turns out that with many issues, I am quite the elephant - views on abortion, war, education - but on others, I'm very, er, donkey - human rights, the environment, healthcare. So, I take this poll the other day - can't remember where I found it, but you can probably Google it - where you bubble in where you stand on different topics (abortion, war funding, affirmative action, etc) and it finds the candidate most similar to your views. I thought, great, this will simplify it. I do the quiz as best as I can, fill in all the little bubbles, and it spits out my results:

Coming in at first place with only a 35% match: John McCain.

Okay, well, he's Republican... so I guess I was good sticking with the Republican party, right? Who's number two?

TYING for first place with a 35% match: Barack Obama.

Um. Okay, but he's a Democrat. Well, I'm open-minded to anything. Who's third?

Coming in a very close third at (no joke) 34%: Hillary Clinton.

Hmmmmmm... and my fourth?

Coming in fourth at (still not joking) 33%: Mike Huckabee.


I give up.


I think that each one of the candidates will have to take me out to dinner and convince me personally. Otherwise, I'm moving to Canada.

PS - I did find these really rockin' Valentine's Day cards. I'm not saying to vote or not to vote for this guy, but these cards are still pretty cool.