Coming full circle...

Last Friday I woke up bright and early when my husband came in from work. The boy was already awake and I laid in bed and listened to them make crepes together in the kitchen. I listened to them go back and forth, talking about nightly dreams and plans for the day. Then pretty soon, little brother joined in on the early morning fun. I didn't get up and join them, but rather stayed in bed and felt his little kicks inside of my body. I thought about how this day marked 21 weeks into my pregnancy. We had come full circle...

The last time I felt a baby kick inside of me I was on my way to the hospital to have Clayton... 21 weeks pregnant. "He's still kicking honey..." I said with tears streaming down my face. While I was still hoping for the best, I knew deep down that this boy would be born sometime that day and that he would die. And there he was... innocent, still so tiny and kicking around in his rapidly draining pool of water that was no longer able to hold him. That was my last experience with baby kicks. That memory has haunted me for the past four years.

Would I ever be able to see my belly swell with a baby inside of it again? Would I ever feel a baby kicking around inside of me? Would I ever be able to experience the wonders of pregnancy again? I didn't know. That was one of my biggest concerns when I thought I might have cancer 3 short months after feeling those last baby kicks. Would I ever be able to have a baby again? I did not know that answer. But I did know that my one biggest wish was that someday I would be able to come full circle. That someday I would carry a baby again, and feel a baby kick around inside of me. That I would make it to 21 weeks again and beyond. That I would be able to give birth, and breast feed, and cuddle a baby into my neck and smell that sweet baby smell around my house again. Is it too much to ask for? Yes... surely it was! There were many times I felt completely unworthy to even desire this. I needed to just be thankful for my husband, and my son, and that I survived cancer when so many people don't even get that opportunity. But to have all of that and still want a baby? Was I being way too selfish and asking way too much? Did I even deserve that?

I've gone back and forth depending on where I was in my life at the moment on these thoughts. But I have never been able to shake this desire to be where I am exactly right now. Pregnant... and thriving. And making plans to bring a precious baby home.

I've been very nervous and anxious the last few weeks coming up to this point. I have a problem that I call the "impending doom" syndrome. I feel like I'm always waiting for the next bad thing to spring up on me or come beating down my door. I feel like I can't get too comfortable being happy because it's not going to last, something bad is going to happen. Good things that I want don't happen to me, they happen to everyone else. It's a really horrible way to live. But I think this is my coping mechanism. It's to help save my soul from more heartache, more set backs, more devastation... if I don't get my hopes up on things then I can't be too disappointed when they don't happen. That is how I've felt through this pregnancy, scared to get too excited because surely this isn't happening to me. Surely this isn't going to work out the way I want it to right? How awful, to feel this way.

I've been trying really hard to let go of this. Because the truth is... God has blessed me with the deepest desire of my heart. He has given me the most amazing gift I could ever ask for. He is sending me another one of his precious spirits to be a mother to. Whether I feel I deserve it or not... he has blessed me with this. And I am so truly grateful. I am humbled and honored to be where I am right now.

As I woke up last week the worries and fears I've carried around for the past four years faded away and I basked in the moment of enjoying the baby kicks again. We made it. Somehow... we made it. Somehow I made it. A sadness that I have carried so deeply for so long has been made very light this last week, as I've finally found myself planning for this new life and getting ready and excited for this new boy to come into our lives.

 22 weeks feels very, very good...

White daisies...

When I was a senior in high school I was competing to be the Sterling Scholar in Dance at my school. It was between me and one other girl, and I really wanted to win this. I started thinking about this when I was a sophomore and wanted it so badly. I worked hard on my application, I choreographed my solo routine, this was what I had wanted more than anything at that time in my life. It would look great on my college applications. It would be a complete honor to me to have been chosen and receive this scholarship.

The girl that I was competing against for this was either my good friend or my arch nemeses (it really depended on the day). We were neck in neck so to speak as to who would win the award. We were both on Dance Company, Drill Team, and had danced together for all of our high school days. I remember that I was sitting in my English class when the intercom squeaked on and they were going to announce to the school all of the Sterling Scholar winners for that year.

My name was not called.

I lost. I was not chosen to be the dance Sterling Scholar.

I found out later that the judges were having a hard time deciding who to give the award to. What their final decision came down to was that her GPA was 0.01 points higher than mine. So she won.

I was devastated. I had worked so hard and long for this. I felt like I deserved this award. I sat there in class trying to hold myself together as I felt the pain of the loss. The bell rang and it was lunch time. I knew that once lunch ended the next class was dance and I would have to face her... the girl who had won what I had wanted so badly.

I thought about what I should do. Should I get in my car and drive home and avoid her all together? Should I go but ignore her and be smug? Or should I congratulate her?

I didn't go to lunch that day. Instead I walked across the street to the grocery store and I bought a bouquet of white daisies. I came back to school and I found her sitting by her locker eating lunch. I gave her the flowers and a big hug and told her congratulations. It hurt. I was very happy for her but very sad for me that I was not the one chosen for this. I felt (a little bit) better after this. I was grateful that even though I was so upset about losing, that I was able to think of her and to congratulate her and celebrate her victory with her, even though it was hard for me.

That was 12 years ago. In my adult life I have found that there have been many situations where I've needed to give hugs and congratulations and pass out some white daisies so to speak. Times where I have longed for something so badly, but it doesn't happen for me.

I found myself this week in yet another situation... where it was necessary to put on a smile, say congratulations, give a hug (and an imaginary bouquet of white daisies) and then go along my way. It hurts. It never gets easier, but I know that it is necessary. I gave my congratulations and hug to my dear friend who knew that what she had just told me was a shock and must have hurt. It was a shock to her as well, something that she was not planning either. "Thanks for being brave, I'm trying to be brave too, " she said as our parting words.

As I got into my car I let myself feel the pain. I try to hold it together in front of people but I never deny myself the right to work through my emotions when I feel them. I offered up a prayer of sorts to my Heavenly Father,  Why? Really? Is this some kind of a joke? Why her and not me? Why never me?

As soon as I had offered up the prayer I received my answer. It wasn't the answer that I was expecting, rather it was the answer to a prayer that I had uttered 12 years before.

Why her Heavenly Father? Why not me? I worked so hard for this! Why not me?

This is why. This is why she won and not you.

I had not thought of this situation in years and years yet suddenly it was fresh in my mind. Life moved on from high school and it really didn't matter that I was not chosen to be the Sterling Scholar for Dance. Or did it?

It suddenly made perfect sense to me. This is why I was not chosen for that award. My life has gone in a way that there have been many opportunities where I have had to be told no. Not now. Nope. It's not your turn. And pass out bouquet after bouquet of daisies. I needed to learn back then how to be this type of person. How to be happy for others even when they have what you long to have. This is why.

I was suddenly filled with gratitude for not winning the scholarship I so longed for in high school. I realized that I had won a far greater prize, I had learned a lesson that day at lunch time in a crowded hallway with a simple bouquet of daisies that I have had to use over and over again. Had I won that award, it would have really done nothing that remarkable for my adult life.

But not winning, has made all the difference in the world.

Post written November 2012

Being yourself in a marriage...

Marriage is when a man and a woman become as one; the trouble starts when they try to decide which one.

- Mae West

I love this antler/flower picture that I found on Pinterest. In a strange way, it reminds me of marriage. Where you take two totally opposite people and try to meld them together to become one.

My darling husband and I will be celebrating our 9th year of marriage soon, which sounds like a super long time when I type it out. We've been through a lot together in our 9 years... a lot (but who hasn't though... right?). We have overcome some pretty terrific obstacles, gone on great adventures together, and seen each other at our best and absolute worst.

We are also very, very different people. Somewhere down the road of our marriage I started to change. I started not wanting to try and compromise over everything and so I got used to saying, "Whatever you want to do honey." Which is a very great thing to say really. But I noticed when I was trying to piece my life back together after cancer that I really didn't know who I was anymore. I had lost a piece of myself along the line somewhere and was trying to figure out how to get that back. Who was I? Other than {husband's name}'s wife? What did I like to do? What was I passionate about? I was pretty lost on those questions.

There is lots of compromise that happens in a marriage, but one that I did that I really regret doing was compromising myself... Now, just for the record this was something that I did entirely on my own. I have a very loving and sweet husband who doesn't have a mean bone in his body. He would do anything in the world for me and our son and I love him to pieces. But I started to push my own desires and wishes aside to do or be whatever I "thought" he wanted me to be.

Until one day I had a realization. HE FELL IN LOVE WITH ME!!! He didn't fall in love with who I thought he wanted me to be. He fell in love with me. Part of my problem may also be that the "me" he fell in love with was 19 years old. At that point in my life I had not much experience past highschool, I had not gone through anything horribly terrific in life that had really molded and shaped my soul yet. While I'm so grateful to have met my husband and gotten married then, I realize now that I still had a lot of growing up to do. And instead of doing that growing up on my own, I've done it as a married girl with a husband by my side. A lot has happened since then, and we've both changed an adapted in our lives.

But I know now that I don't want to be anyone other than myself, because I don't seem to do that very well. And I really missed doing the things that I was really passionate about because it was like I had buried my soul in the closet because "it really wasn't that important." Come to find out it was vitally important to my happiness, and I'm now trying to dust off the cobwebs and try them on again... and it feels really good.

Something that I've been paying a lot of attention to lately are couples who are very strong individuals but also have a beautiful relationship with each other. Couples who are very different yet they respect their partners and let them be who they are.

So my question is, what do you do to maintain your individuality in your marriage or relationship? And how do you let your spouse maintain theirs?
And just for the record... I'm planning on rummaging through my brother in law's unused antler collection (yes... he has one) and recreating this display at the top. I'm thinking of making the flowers out of clay and then painting them. I'll post it up when I'm finished!