really nothing to do with Joel - scattered thoughts, at best.

We discussed not having children, ANY children, until Josh started residency. It became very apparent very early in to his first year of medical school that God had something else in mind. I was thick in to my first year at Truman State University and was more excited about school than I had been at the 4 previous schools I'd attended. I was doing Chinese cultural studies and language and was planning on graduating with a degree in that area and being as fluent as I could in Mandarin Chinese in the 2 years that we were slotted to live in Kirksville. I became a monster when I wasn't at school. Never having time to do my stuff around the house or even really to fix dinner just didn't mesh with the housewife I was used to being. It was turing ugly really quickly. The rare moments when my husband didn't have to study and we should have been spending precious time together, I had homework and resented doing it. I LOVED what I was studying for the first time in my 5 years of school and had FINALLY found what I wanted to major in, but it just wasn't fitting in to our lives. I prayed ernestly about it and received a very swift and firm reply. Quit school. Get pregnant. Ok. You didn't have to answer THAT quickly. I quit. We got pregnant the first month we tried, and now that tiny baby that I delivered at the Kirksville hospital just turned 4 on the 13th of this July. I adored him from day one, and then he turned 18 months. He was still a little bit baby, but the toddler side of him reared it's head and the battles began. I hadn't prayerfully equipped myself for how to handle this. For the past 2 1/2 years of his life my dealings with him have driven an ever widening wedge in our relationship as mother and son. I love him, don't get me wrong, but it's a chore for me to keep my heart in the right place when it comes to spending quality time with him and being patient with him. I'm relieved when I speak to other mothers to find that I am NOT alone in this battle with my 4 year old, but it doesn't make me feel less crappy about where our relationship is on this very day. Little Judah has reached that stage - he's 20 months. He whines incessantly and I don't have patience for it. He yells at Elijah (who has it coming a lot of the time, but not always) and gets raging mad (and I do mean raging) if I don't give him what he wants when he wants it. (He's learning very quickly that this gets him no where in our house). But I deal with him very differently than I delt with Elijah at this stage. I felt more bonded with him earlier on, and I assume it's because I was able to nurse him successfully. Elijah had horrible latch problems and each feeding that came around was a stressful indeavor for us both. He'd latch, pull a couple times and then slip. He didn't just slip off, he'd slip and bite down with his gums and then pull off and scream. I had blood blisters and splits all over both sides from nursing him those 3 months. I'd get so angry with him (a teeny baby....yeah). I cried through most feedings and was becoming resentful toward him that we didn't have this lovely bond in feeding that all mother's were supposed to have with their babies. With Judah, it was a really tight bond and I often felt guilty, like I loved him more because of it. When it really comes down to it I don't think that a mother can truly love one of her children more than another, but of course the thought was entertained in my head more than once. It felt like Judah and I "got along" better from the very beginning. I was more relaxed with him. He was much more attached to me than Elijah was (this probably has NOTHING to do with the nursing but much more to do with the vast differences in their personalities). I don't feel like Elijah and I have EVER had a special connection. He just turned 4 and I still don't feel like we've really ever "bonded". (I'm sure this is tainted much by the stage he's in - I can't seem to remember anything else in his life) This doesn't change the love I have for him, but it certainly has influenced the way we've interacted since Judah was born. It has certainly influenced the way we've interacted since Joel was born. I know there's been times that I've been too hard on him. Probably more than not. I've known them the instant they happen. Every mother I've talked to says they are harder on the oldest child than on the rest. Some on lookers think we have been TOO hard on him. Some onlookers just totally disagree with the expectations we have for our children's behavior and the way we go about remedying ill behavior. We do things the way our parents did things. We do things the way we believe God has called us to do things. Along with that has come the VERY sharp learning curve of raising each of our children in the way HE should go. I feel like the way I interact with Elijah about his ill behavior (not the way I punish him - these are two very different parents of the job of correction) is not in mesh with raising him in the way HE should go. I haven't found it yet and have spent the past 2 1/2 years in what feels to me like perpetual aggravation with him trying to figure out how to manage him. It's been entirely frustrating and at times I just want to throw in the towel and let his foolishness take him over. ("Follishness is bound up in the heart of a child" Proverbs 22:15) I was in a store yesterday and was talking to the check out gal. She remarked on how "brave" I was for having 3 boys to close in age. I laughed and reassured her that it hadn't been the plan. She said her boy is 5 and she doesn't feel any where NEAR ready to even start thinking about another child. She said she just got to the point with him where there are days that she actually likes him.....ALL DAY! OH for that day! I'm annoyed and aggravated more than not and I'm just plain sick of it. It's a spiritual battle I've been fighting for the past 2 1/2 years in my parenting of Elijah and I'm sick of fighting it. (I'm sure there is plenty of room for more prayer! There always is - and OH the mighty things it does! Mighty things that have not happened, because I DO NOT prayer enough!) Even as I write this I'm super annoyed with him because he was SO emotional all morning from having woken up too early and he's suppose to be napping but didn't ever go to sleep. And then he got out of bed and I heard him shouting, "come wipe me!" from the bathroom. There will come a day when I can just calm the hell down about all that and brush it off. It won't be such an annoyance, such an aggravating thing. I hope.

Now I feel desperate and lend way to panic, at times. I just gave birth to my 3rd boy and I still don't feel like I know how to raise the first I gave birth to. I KNOW I HAVE been equipped, because God gave me these boys to raise, but I don't FEEL equipped. Ridiculous human emotion! I loathe "feelings" sometimes! They just get in the way. The transition to 3 has been remarkably easier than either of the other two transitions. I'd say the move from zero children to 1 child was by far the hardest! Moving to 3 just felt natural (as natural as it could with our first unplanned child). I'm much more relaxed with him than I was with either of the other boys as babies. I feel more relaxed with Judah in the age he is at than I was with Elijah at that age - because I've "been there done that." I often wish I could look a couple years in to the future and look back from that point and see, "he's not capable of matching that expectation at this age" like I can with Judah and will be able to with Joel. I feel like Elijah will always be the guinea pig because he's the first. He'll always be the test drive model and then I'll make adjustments to the later models to improve. He'll always get the brunt. I don't want him to be bitter. I don't want him to go haywire when he's out of the house at 18 because he felt his mother had such a tight fist on him. I don't want him to let his kids do whatever the hell they please just because he resents the way I raised him. (Of course my husband is in this equation, but this is a blog about the way I feel about my parenting. I FEEL like he's a much better father than I am a mother - so I'm leaving him out of it completely).

Huff puff - I'm all worked up. So, you can plainly see that this blog post that was supposed to be about my transition to 3 very quickly just turned in to a post about how I don't even feel ready to raise the first one. Having 2 more boys stacked on to the equation doesn't really change anything other than the fact that I have more taking my attention away from figuring out how "thing 1" needs to be "raised in the way he should go". Now I have 3 "in the way he should go" to figure out. I can say with certainty, however, that I really like having 3. As hard as my job is, it feels much more natural to me to have 3 than it did to just have 1.

Elijah starts preschool this fall and I think it will do MUCH good for us to have some time apart for those 3 days a week. We butt heads, always have, and tend to do better when we aren't around eachother all day every day (which has happened very few times). I'm anxious to see what it does for our relationship. I DESPERATELY want to like my child for an entire day. I DESPERATELY WANT to WANT to spend time with him! I want to look forward to him coming out of his bedroom every morning instead of dreading what the day ahead will hold in the departments of whining and disobedience. I want to look forward to picking him up after preschool those afternoons instead of being so thrilled that I finally don't have to listen to him all day. I don't want a bad attitude about Elijah. I'm tired of it! Prayer has NOT been nearly enough a part of my raising of Elijah, and it's the ONLY thing that is going to change my heart toward him.

Fear not, I do love Elijah.

Joel - my testimony of a year and a half and counting

I'm done making promises to post to this blog on a regular basis. I've tried to make it an habitual thing in my life, but it just hasn't become that. Facebook is much more of that, which is a shame, because there's really no way to look back months and see where I've come. That being said, here is a post, long overdue! It will probably be packed with typos, as I'm in a hurry to pound it out while the boys run willy nilly around. I know if I wait, little Joel will be born and then it will be months and THEN I won't remember it all. Life hasn't been slow for these past months since I've written. The blog knew I was pregnant and that it is with a little boy we will call Joel, but thats about it. This will be a count of the events leading up to and surrounding this little boy's beginning of life.
He was unexpected, to say the least! Unplanned, and really ultimately actively avoided slide right in next to unexpected. Judah was JUST turning one and I was thoroughly enjoying the stage that he was at and the interactions that were just starting to take place between he and Elijah. Life was finally settling down. I'd just recently cut Gluten out of my diet and my health had taken a turn for the WAY better! I had energy to spare every day, had been able to cut out MY afternoon naps and wasn't dealing with the constant fatigue and achiness I had dealt with the previous couple of months. Gluten makes me feel like crap, thats all there is to it.
Cutting gluten out of my diet wasn't a decision based on the trends of society today to eat "healthier" (believe you me, if I could still be eating it and feel fine, I WOULD!). It had nothing to do with positive allergy tests or blood tests, as those all came back negative. It was a decision based on one day of fasting and a clear direction from the Creator that it needed to go. At the time I was in complete desperation for something, ANYTHING that would be pro-active and work in helping me feel better. As any typical human, I wanted SOMETHING to do to feel more in control of my diminishing health. A short (as short as I can make it) background in this desperation I was feeling:
Judah was 2 1/2 months old and I was finally starting to feel out of the postpartum funk and enjoying my boys. I noticed over a weeks time that the hearing in my left ear was slowly diminishing - by the end of the week I had no hearing what so ever in my left ear and chalked it up to fluid or a simple infection. I was given a round of meds to clear out fluid, which worked, but my hearing didn't fully return. I woke up the morning of my ENT appt with slight vertigo (room spins, not dizziness) and really wasn't sure what to think of it. The ENT appt went fine and we sat and discussed my hearing test and a possible diagnosis. He said Meniere's, something I had never heard of.(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ménière's_disease) I ate lunch that afternoon and sat down to nurse Judah. The nursing only lasted moments before I fell sideways on the bed with a completely overpowering vertigo attack. My left ear was screaming a high pitched train wistle type sound at me and the nausea was increasing with every passing second. Josh was off to work, my 2 1/2 month old was lying next to me on the bed and Elijah was down for his afternoon nap. I figured I'd just lay still and maybe sleep it off. I got up to pee and heaved violently in to the bathroom trash pail before making my way along the floor, on my hands and knees, back to the bed. I reached up and grabbed my cell phone to call Josh and beg him to come home. He was on his way shortly. I drug myself back to the bathroom just in time to, again, heave violently in to the toilet. I layed on the floor right outside the bathroom sweating and crying. Judah woke up on the bed. I knew that if I moved an inch I'd heave again, but I was concerned about him rolling off the bed. I stood up and ran, vearing this way and that, running in to furniture with my complete lack of balance, grabbed my baby and ran as quickly and steadily as possible to put him in his cradle in our closet. I hit the floor and made it back to the trashcan just in time. 3rd painfully violent heave in under 20 minutes. My stomach ached with a vengence and I was drenched with sweat. Josh made it home, but I haven't a clue how much time had past. I don't know if I passed out, or fell asleep or have just erased the memory of that next slot of time. I heaved several more times that afternoon before my mother made it to our house to watch the boys so Josh and I could run in to urgent care to get some fluids in me. They gave me a few IV bags and some zofran. Things wer improving slowly, and I looked deader than a wedge. I was completely wiped for the next two days, as my ear slowly gained it's hearing back and the refractery vertigo came and went. The tinnitus (ringing in the ear) never left me alone. This happened 3 more times in the next 2 months (though not so severe, since I now had Zofran to keep the vomiting from happening). My ear would "stuff up" for a few days, ring like a freight train and then the attack would fall hard! The "attacks" petered over the next 6 months and eventually became very unpredictable and scattered. My ENT here at Eglin decided I didn't have Meniere's, but most likely was suffering from a recurrent (and very stubborn) case of "Labrynthitis" (we still don't know, a year and a half later, what it is) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Labyrinthitis).
My hearing increasingly diminished, after moving to Florida, and wasn't making the recovery like it had been before (though I was no longer having vertigo "attacks"). I was in rough shape. I was becoming more and more pessimistic with the situation, feeling depressed, anxious, and sickly. I had a "head fog" that I didn't understand, my joints and muscles ached and I was constantly tired. I had no energy to run around with my boys or even just to manage being a mother at it's very simplist. I posted on here, on facebook, hunted down doctor and doctor to beg for answers. I pestered my physician husband with questions (much to his annoyance I'm afraid) about what could possibly be wrong with me. Why me? Why now? Why this? I bargained with God to take it away. I was, over and over again, going through the stages of grief. In all this time I was focused everywhere but where I should have been setting my sights to. I could hear him calling, beconing me back to his side. I refused to go. I didn't "blame" God for letting this happen to me, I just wanted an audible voice, a HUMAN voice telling me it would be ok. (strange how we humans or so relient on things we can "hear" with our human senses.) I frantically searched the internet for medical sights and blogs that would give me some answer as to what I was suffering from. I tried a "low-sodium" diet (as per doctor's orders), and ordered 3 low sodium cookbooks, sodium free baking soda and baking powder to cook with and even a special salt substitute to put on my food (spending way too much money). I went crazy with an idea I was given, frantically searching for some kind of answer, for comfort. Nothing worked. In the beginning of October of last year (2010) I felt called to fast. Fasting hasn't been a spiritual discipline I've practiced many times. I can't actually remember a single time, other that the one in October, when I've felt directly called to fast. I obeyed. It wasn't a slow day where I was able to sit around and pray all day, every time I felt hungry, so I just continued through the busy day I'd been given, praying any chance I thought of it. At the end of the day I felt discouraged at how it'd gone and then it was there, just like that - "Stop eating gluten". Ok. I'll stop. It's going to suck and it's going to be hard, but it's SOMETHING to do! I stopped. Within 48 hours my joints and muscles stopped aching and I was literally shaking with energy. I felt "happy" like I hadn't been in months, and was delighted to see my sense of humor return in it's full form. I chased the kids around and rolled on the ground with them. I cooked, cleaned, started RUNNING (I HATE running - thats how much extra energy I had) and just felt all together fanstastic! I had been dropping weight like crazy (most likely due to lack of nutrient "absorption" from eating gluten when my body wasn't tollerating it) and continued to do so rapidly after going "gluten-free" from lack of virtually any carb intake. I was thin (too thin - but you know how body image is in this society - I can't say I was hating being that thin), in shape, feeling awesome and the best part was that my vertigo was rapidly disappearing as my hearing slowly returned. It wasn't returning in full (and still hasn't), but its remarkably better than where it was before I practiced obedience and started the GF diet. My ear still "stuffed" up now and then and I found that when it did I naturally went to straight back to panic and searching everything I could think of for answers. I'd become depressed for whatever amount of time it was "stuffed" and fretted about how horrible it could be if I started getting vertigo attacks again. I was, once again, not trusting, no seeking my Creator for the answer and comfort I needed. This became a cycle. "Stuff up", panic, search elsewhere, doubt. Even though God had proven to be he was in control (and he certainly didn't need to prove to me, I knew better.)
Now, that sets everything up for tiny Joel to enter the scene. (I told you this would get long! If you've made it to this point, thank you, and you must have been really curious) Needless to say, I had NO desire to get pregnant or even entertain the idea for months to come. I had JUST started feeling better. I had been told that with inner issues pregnancy could exacerbate the issue, so I was REALLY looking to avoid adding to our family for a while. I started praying ernestly about adoption (and had mentioned to Josh that I had always had a dream of adopting our third child) when I found out I was pregnant with Judah in early November. To be precise, just days after he turned 1 year old. I wept a hard, painful cry - for two days. My SLIGHT vertigo started kicking back in and my tinnitus worsened, as I had feared they would. I questioned, doubted, and was just downright bummed out with God for allowing me to get pregnant. I knew better than to think I had any right to be miffed, but I continued in my wallowing for weeks. I didn't want another baby, another pregnancy, another reason to feel crappy. MY life has just gotten better. I has just started feeling like I was in control of my life again. Yeah, after all that God had blessed me with. I was feeling in control. I tell you what, folks, if YOU feel in control, do a quick check! It's these times that God has always rocked the boat. Not saying he doesn't rock the boat, even if you are continually relying on him, but it's a much less gentler rocking (in my experience) if your sights are already set on him like they are meant to be! 10 weeks in to the pregnancy I was still just really dissatisfied with the idea of being pregnant, of having another child this early (we want a large family, but certainly hadn't planned on having them crammed this closely in age), and was discouraged with feeling physically dumpy. I was gaining weight like mad, too exhausted to run (which I had really started to enjoy), felt nauseous (which needless to say had VERY unpleasant memories attached) and was tired all the time! My husband reminded me, every time I looked at him in desperation with tears streaming down my cheeks, "Seek God! Not man!" Right around the 10 week mark I was sitting doing a quiet time and flipped open to the book of Joel. I felt a strong draw to read it and hadn't a clue why. I read the first chapter, all the while thinking about how irrelevent this was to my situation. What did warnings about the second coming have to do with this tiny being growing inside of me and making me feel like dump?! I read in to the second chapter and began weaping unconrollably when I reached the 12th verse that read, "Even now (EVEN NOW!), declares the Lord, "return to me with all your heart,...' ". And then a sentence in to the 13th verse, "return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love,". His name will be "Joel", I was told quite clearly. We had our fingers crossed for a little girl and I was convinced I was pregnant with a girl (and still didn't let go of the idea of a girl for a few more weeks after this), but God told me quite clearly HIS name will be Joel. I told me husband that night and he sighed, knowing he once again was not going to get to use his favorite boy's name, "Caleb". God named this baby, not either of us.
The pregnancy has continued without hitch - my vertigo is scarce and I have to remind myself that when I DO have it, it doesn't mean I will end up an invalid mother, trapped in bed while someone else cares for my children (ridiculous I know, but it has been one of my greatest fears all along in this battle against my inner ear issues! ) (even now as I type this I struggle with keeping my sense of balance, as my ear is ringing louder than normal and I have slight vertigo - I STILL have to fight the fear that Satan tries plugging into my head! EVEN AFTER ALL GOD HAS DONE! Humans!).
A cyst was found on Joel's brain during an ultrasound scan at 18 weeks. Everything else seemed to measure fine, but the concern of Trisomy 18 (fatal abnormalities) came in to the picture, and I spent the following 10 weeks leading up to my follow-up ultrasound fighting fear, doubt and despair. I fought to trust, to let him lead me in to peace. It was a constant battle. He named this child, and I knew full well why, but I STILL had to fight to trust. "EVEN NOW!" WHY would he do all this just to give me a child I couldn't hold and love and raise? "EVEN NOW!" Joel was cleared at 28 weeks of any concern of Trisomy 18. The "high risk maternal, fetal" physician looking at the ultrasound said quite gleefully and frankly, "Your baby is beautiful! He's perfect!"
This pregnancy has been, by far, the easiest of any of my pregnancies. I've had no vertigo attacks (though it flares slightly from time to time, as does the ringing in my ears). I've had NO lower GI tract issues like I painfully suffered with Judah. I've had NO swelling and water retention (leading to excess weight gain) like I had with Elijah. We now sit and wait for this little boy to come out and join our family. Elijah is anxious to meet him and repeatedly throughout the day will hug and kiss my belly while very seriously saying hello to Joel. Judah doesn't have a clue, other than the confusion that mommy's belly is a "baby" and so are the actual babies we show him pictures of. I'm sure he thinks we're confused loonies. How is THAT a baby? It's just a giant belly! We expected him to arrive right around 38 weeks because we had both the other boys on the day I turned 38 weeks. 38 weeks was Thursday, the 7th. Today is Monday the 11th. Still no Joel. I contract for half days, intensely, and then it stops. Who knows when he'll arrive. The theme aroundt his child has been trust, waiting, patience, leaning NOT on my own understanding, and returning to the Lord "EVEN NOW". I find myself leaning toward panic about when he'll come. Will I tear, (because they think he's HUGE, according to the his growth scan several weeks ago, though I'm convinced he's teenier than he should be because my tummy is tiny compared to the other two boys). Will he come on Elijah's birthday. (I know, if thats all I have to worry about, how ridiculous!) Will he be here in time for my mother-in-law to see him before she goes home (she gets here this Friday, the 15th and leaves the 22nd). What of Josh's rotations. They are NOT easy rotations. How on earth am I supposed to be a mother to a spirited 4 year old in need of constant attitude and behavior training, a 20 month old just discovering how fits work and who finds utter delight in digging into anything and everything he knows is a "no touch" AND a newborn? EVEN NOW return to the Lord will ALL my heart! Not just some of it, not just some of my trust, not just some of my reliance, but ALL of it! ALL. OF. IT! What if my ear freaks out on me again, like it did after Judah was born. How am I supposed to be a mother to these three children if I'm dragging myself along the floor wretching my guts out??!?! WHAT IF?! WHAT IF?!! "EVEN NOW!"
RETURN TO THE LORD WILL ALL YOUR HEART! EVEN NOW!

This testimony is only just beginning and it's already a year and a half old. God will continue to call me back to his side, to trust him. I will continuously fail to obey him because I am a flighty, untrusting, unworthy human. It's a constant battle for me to trust. Joel will be a human figure in front of me to constantly remind me of God's faithfullness, of his call for me to EVEN NOW, return to him with ALL my heart! It's a fight against MY flesh and blood, against Satan's ridiculously refined tactics to distract me, against everything in this world telling me to seek elsewhere. Even then will I return to MY Lord will all MY heart! I will always come back around, this I am determined. He FINALLY got me full attention with the pregnancy of this child, and I intend to fight tooth and nail to keep my attention on him, flighty though I may be in my humanness.
"EVEN NOW!"