As I sit here dealing with my own sore chest, it's nice to know that I am not alone in my breastfeeding challenges. I am referring to Jennifer F.'s #3 Quick Takes Friday post on her apprehension to begin nursing a new baby.
When I followed the link to her original breastfeeding post I was shocked to read all the testimonials about nursing challenges - and straight up pain. Until now, all I've been told is the rather aggravating mantra "breastfeeding shouldn't hurt."
Well, it does hurt. And I'm sick of feeling like something is wrong with me because I feel pain while nursing! I've found examples of other women suffering initial breastfeeding pain that only abates with time's passage. Maybe I'm not crazy or disfunctional for feeling pain!
It was also great to get more perspectives on breast yeast infections. I've already gone through one round of prescription meds to eradicate one such infection. But I think it might be back again. I was under the impression that my baby had to have very obvious thrush symptoms to qualify for a yeast infection. Not so, according to Breastfeeding Essentials. Apparently everything can look normal and still be infected.
I found suggestions for treatment options too. Not to mention a clearer understanding of the possible causes for a yeast infection. During Michael's first six weeks I was given at least 4 doses of antibiotics (GBS positive, c-section surgery, c-section post-op, c-section postpardum). Michael also had a dose or two during his NICU stage. Did I eat yogurt to help replenish the good bacteria? Nope - didn't have a clue it was helpful.
After seeing all the comments on Jennifer F.'s blog I see that breastfeeding challenges (and pain) are typical. It's really unfortunate that nursing can be so difficult. And yet, I find comfort in the realization I am not alone.
Showing posts with label Rough Spots. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rough Spots. Show all posts
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Fourth Time's a Charm
Today was one of those days. The kind where I realize that I have to reconstruct my old ways of thinking to include a baby. It's the little things - you know, like getting anywhere on time. Especially getting to Mass on time.
Ryan and I had big plans to make it to the 12:15pm Mass this afternoon. Then he was up until 3am on hall duty last night (for his residence life job), an hour later than anticipated. I need at least 2 hours to get up and out the door on time for mass with baby Michael. I woke up too late. We notice it's snowing like crazy. We decide to attend a later Mass.
So we plan on going to the 5:30pm instead. And then a friend who lives in NY wants to drop by because she is only in town until tomorrow evening. By the time we usher her out the door and dig out the car, it's 5:22pm and we're late. Plus Ryan has work to do and would prefer to go to the 8:00pm Mass here on campus.
I leave to attend a social event and plan to return to campus no later than 7:45pm. Of course, as I'm walking out the door of the event at 7:40pm Michael is beginning to fuss. And it's still snowing. By the time I nurse Michael, change his diaper, and gingerly navigate my way to the car to avoid a total wipeout, I'm late again.
Our fourth and final option is to attend a dorm Mass with my sister on the ND campus. It starts at 10:00pm. I can't believe I'm actually attending a Mass that barely meets the Sunday requirement. But this time I'm ready. We are out the door by 9:35pm and in the chapel before most of the students stumble through the door. I am finally at Mass early.
Then I proceed to spend the next hour jiggling and swaying and making faces at Michael. I may be there physically, but I'm having a real difficult time keeping myself there mentally.
It's just one of those days.
Ryan and I had big plans to make it to the 12:15pm Mass this afternoon. Then he was up until 3am on hall duty last night (for his residence life job), an hour later than anticipated. I need at least 2 hours to get up and out the door on time for mass with baby Michael. I woke up too late. We notice it's snowing like crazy. We decide to attend a later Mass.
So we plan on going to the 5:30pm instead. And then a friend who lives in NY wants to drop by because she is only in town until tomorrow evening. By the time we usher her out the door and dig out the car, it's 5:22pm and we're late. Plus Ryan has work to do and would prefer to go to the 8:00pm Mass here on campus.
I leave to attend a social event and plan to return to campus no later than 7:45pm. Of course, as I'm walking out the door of the event at 7:40pm Michael is beginning to fuss. And it's still snowing. By the time I nurse Michael, change his diaper, and gingerly navigate my way to the car to avoid a total wipeout, I'm late again.
Our fourth and final option is to attend a dorm Mass with my sister on the ND campus. It starts at 10:00pm. I can't believe I'm actually attending a Mass that barely meets the Sunday requirement. But this time I'm ready. We are out the door by 9:35pm and in the chapel before most of the students stumble through the door. I am finally at Mass early.
Then I proceed to spend the next hour jiggling and swaying and making faces at Michael. I may be there physically, but I'm having a real difficult time keeping myself there mentally.
It's just one of those days.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
The Best Laid Plans....
...often go awry. Isn't that the truth? Here is the second half of Michael Ryan's birth story, and how I've had to deal with many unexpected events this week.
After Michael was born our whole family met us in the recovery room. It was beautiful to see the joy on our sisters' and parents' faces. Michael's godmother was even able to meet him, only 5 hours before she had to hop on plane for California. I spent our first night together just staring at his precious little face and watching the sunlight gradually brighten my hospital room. I just couldn't believe he was really mine... And then our families returned on Saturday to hold and cuddle and photograph the adorable new member of our clan.
I noticed throughout the day that my poor little man was having a hard time breastfeeding because he couldn't breathe very well. His little nose was so congested. After awhile we called the nurses to see if they could help him. They tried, but it didn't seem to make a difference. And soon Michael was getting fussy and starting to cough from his congestion. When the nurses returned the 2nd time they brought NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) with them. I was so tired and out of it that when NICU told me to kiss my little boy good-bye I didn't understand why - wasn't he only going to be gone for an hour or so?
About half and hour later I realized that Michael wasn't coming back anytime soon. And so we embarked on four very long and stressful days, waiting for our son to be released from NICU. Saturday night I was an emotional wreak. The c-section had already interfered with my bonding to Michael Ryan, I was beyond exhausted from zero sleep the night before, and now the NICU was holding by baby hostage from me. All I could do was cry myself to sleep all night long.
I spent Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday racing back and forth the the NICU to breastfeed Michael Ryan whenever he started to fuss. It was a long process just to get down there. First I had to take care of myself and make sure I'd received pain meds before I left. Then I would hole up in my corner of the NICU with Michael and try not to tangle myself in his IV and monitor cords while attempting to learn how to breastfeed him. I quickly became friends with the nurses and lactation consultants during our stay!
It was so gut-wrenching to go into the NICU. I missed my son, of course, but at least he was full-term and fairly healthy. The doctors wanted to moniter him because they thought he swallowed meconium and they wanted to make sure he was getting enough nutrition with his late start to breastfeeding. All the other babies though... They were so tiny, smaller than my hand. And I would see their mothers come in, day after day, with no hope of going home anytime soon. At least I could hope to be home for Christmas, only a few days away. I spent a lot of time praying for those other babies, as I held my son who was 2 or 3 times bigger than each of them.
It was a rough four days for Ryan and I. At first we thought we might get to go home on Monday or Tuesday. Then it was Tuesday or Wednesday. Each time the doctor came to update us it seemed like Michael's release date was pushed back. And we just couldn't understand why. All I wanted was to take my little boy home for Christmas!
The other challenge with the NICU was how extremely crowded they became while we were there. It seemed like for each baby that was sent home, 2 or 3 new ones would arrive in his place. Michael Ryan was definitely taking up space that NICU needed for the really sick babies. Ryan and I watched as the rooms became more and more full with little preemie babies.
Finally, on Tuesday night I was officially released from the hospital. Because Michael wouldn't be allowed go home until Wednesday, Christmas Eve, at the very earliest, Ryan and I opted to stay in a "parent room" free of charge at the hospital. We packed up all our bags and moved into another smaller hospital room down the hall. When we went to breastfeed him that evening we couldn't find our little guy in his usual spot! He had been moved to a tiny edge of the room, a little peninsula in the paths of the nurses. The NICU was so crowded that we couldn't even find a spot to nurse our little boy. A nurse had to bring him down to our parent room to nurse and then we had to call for them to take him back when he was finished. It was insane! Why couldn't we just go home?
That's when the NICU had the idea to move us into one of the internal parent rooms, right off the NICU corridor. They would let us sleep in the room with Michael Ryan as long as he was on a monitor. It was like a halfway deal - we did the work of the nurses to free them up, and in return we were "allowed" to sleep in the same room as our son. So Ryan and I packed our bags again and waited to be called down the NICU room. I truly felt like we were Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus with no room for us in the inn.
Sleeping in the tiny parent room (filled to the brim with a pull-out couch, recliner, and Michael's rolling crib) was less than comfortable, to say the least. And the monitor would go off in these spastic binges of noise that we weren't able to quiet. In addition, Michael was beginning to jaundice and the doctors were extremely hesitant to release him if his bilireuben levels continued to rise. I wasn't sure if I would be able to survive one more night of sleepless chaos and I was quickly nearing my breaking point.
At last the dawn broke (not that we could tell, as the NICU parent room had no windows) and the doctor release Michael to our care on one condition - we had to take him to a medpoint on Christmas day to do another bilireuben level check. Anything, we told him, would be worth getting to leave this hosptial on Christmas Eve! The last hour was another agonizing wait for the necessary paperwork and suddenly we were in our own car, free to go whereever we pleased. It was like walking out of a dark movie theater into the afternoon sunlight, disorienting but very pleasing nonetheless.
Our little family spent a wonderful Christmas Eve at home with my parents and sisters. I was still exhausted, but so glad to be on my own turf. After 5 nights in the hospital, I finally slept soundly in my own bed, with Michael Ryan cuddled next to me. We woke up the next morning and even made it to Christmas Day mass. I spent a beautiful 24 hours with my family, sans hospitals.
Then we had to go back.
Another day, another challenge. The medpoint where we stopped at to get the bilireuben test for Michael was unable to accommodate us because they were all out of small vials! So off we went to the ER and back to the hospital I just left the day before. We spent over an hour in an empty waiting room before we discovered that someone had dropped the ball and forgotten about us. So, it took us about 3 hours to receive a 1o minute test - and I was again frustrated and exhausted from medical mayhem.
Our Christmas day ended on a more pleasant note with another family gathering at my in-laws' home. All in all, I received the best gift I could ever want - our firstborn son in my arms and at home on Christmas day. He is so perfect and beautiful and absolutely wonderful to behold. I am in awe at God's gift to us, a tiny and trusting little eternal soul to care for the rest of our lives. Even though my hopes for Michael Ryan's birth were different than the outcome, I know that God's plans are always better than my own. Perhaps it is a grace that my plans go awry - so that the greater glory of God will be known.
To read Part I of Michael's birth story, go here.
After Michael was born our whole family met us in the recovery room. It was beautiful to see the joy on our sisters' and parents' faces. Michael's godmother was even able to meet him, only 5 hours before she had to hop on plane for California. I spent our first night together just staring at his precious little face and watching the sunlight gradually brighten my hospital room. I just couldn't believe he was really mine... And then our families returned on Saturday to hold and cuddle and photograph the adorable new member of our clan.
I noticed throughout the day that my poor little man was having a hard time breastfeeding because he couldn't breathe very well. His little nose was so congested. After awhile we called the nurses to see if they could help him. They tried, but it didn't seem to make a difference. And soon Michael was getting fussy and starting to cough from his congestion. When the nurses returned the 2nd time they brought NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) with them. I was so tired and out of it that when NICU told me to kiss my little boy good-bye I didn't understand why - wasn't he only going to be gone for an hour or so?
About half and hour later I realized that Michael wasn't coming back anytime soon. And so we embarked on four very long and stressful days, waiting for our son to be released from NICU. Saturday night I was an emotional wreak. The c-section had already interfered with my bonding to Michael Ryan, I was beyond exhausted from zero sleep the night before, and now the NICU was holding by baby hostage from me. All I could do was cry myself to sleep all night long.
I spent Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday racing back and forth the the NICU to breastfeed Michael Ryan whenever he started to fuss. It was a long process just to get down there. First I had to take care of myself and make sure I'd received pain meds before I left. Then I would hole up in my corner of the NICU with Michael and try not to tangle myself in his IV and monitor cords while attempting to learn how to breastfeed him. I quickly became friends with the nurses and lactation consultants during our stay!
It was so gut-wrenching to go into the NICU. I missed my son, of course, but at least he was full-term and fairly healthy. The doctors wanted to moniter him because they thought he swallowed meconium and they wanted to make sure he was getting enough nutrition with his late start to breastfeeding. All the other babies though... They were so tiny, smaller than my hand. And I would see their mothers come in, day after day, with no hope of going home anytime soon. At least I could hope to be home for Christmas, only a few days away. I spent a lot of time praying for those other babies, as I held my son who was 2 or 3 times bigger than each of them.
It was a rough four days for Ryan and I. At first we thought we might get to go home on Monday or Tuesday. Then it was Tuesday or Wednesday. Each time the doctor came to update us it seemed like Michael's release date was pushed back. And we just couldn't understand why. All I wanted was to take my little boy home for Christmas!
The other challenge with the NICU was how extremely crowded they became while we were there. It seemed like for each baby that was sent home, 2 or 3 new ones would arrive in his place. Michael Ryan was definitely taking up space that NICU needed for the really sick babies. Ryan and I watched as the rooms became more and more full with little preemie babies.
Finally, on Tuesday night I was officially released from the hospital. Because Michael wouldn't be allowed go home until Wednesday, Christmas Eve, at the very earliest, Ryan and I opted to stay in a "parent room" free of charge at the hospital. We packed up all our bags and moved into another smaller hospital room down the hall. When we went to breastfeed him that evening we couldn't find our little guy in his usual spot! He had been moved to a tiny edge of the room, a little peninsula in the paths of the nurses. The NICU was so crowded that we couldn't even find a spot to nurse our little boy. A nurse had to bring him down to our parent room to nurse and then we had to call for them to take him back when he was finished. It was insane! Why couldn't we just go home?
That's when the NICU had the idea to move us into one of the internal parent rooms, right off the NICU corridor. They would let us sleep in the room with Michael Ryan as long as he was on a monitor. It was like a halfway deal - we did the work of the nurses to free them up, and in return we were "allowed" to sleep in the same room as our son. So Ryan and I packed our bags again and waited to be called down the NICU room. I truly felt like we were Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus with no room for us in the inn.
Sleeping in the tiny parent room (filled to the brim with a pull-out couch, recliner, and Michael's rolling crib) was less than comfortable, to say the least. And the monitor would go off in these spastic binges of noise that we weren't able to quiet. In addition, Michael was beginning to jaundice and the doctors were extremely hesitant to release him if his bilireuben levels continued to rise. I wasn't sure if I would be able to survive one more night of sleepless chaos and I was quickly nearing my breaking point.
At last the dawn broke (not that we could tell, as the NICU parent room had no windows) and the doctor release Michael to our care on one condition - we had to take him to a medpoint on Christmas day to do another bilireuben level check. Anything, we told him, would be worth getting to leave this hosptial on Christmas Eve! The last hour was another agonizing wait for the necessary paperwork and suddenly we were in our own car, free to go whereever we pleased. It was like walking out of a dark movie theater into the afternoon sunlight, disorienting but very pleasing nonetheless.
Our little family spent a wonderful Christmas Eve at home with my parents and sisters. I was still exhausted, but so glad to be on my own turf. After 5 nights in the hospital, I finally slept soundly in my own bed, with Michael Ryan cuddled next to me. We woke up the next morning and even made it to Christmas Day mass. I spent a beautiful 24 hours with my family, sans hospitals.
Then we had to go back.
Another day, another challenge. The medpoint where we stopped at to get the bilireuben test for Michael was unable to accommodate us because they were all out of small vials! So off we went to the ER and back to the hospital I just left the day before. We spent over an hour in an empty waiting room before we discovered that someone had dropped the ball and forgotten about us. So, it took us about 3 hours to receive a 1o minute test - and I was again frustrated and exhausted from medical mayhem.
Our Christmas day ended on a more pleasant note with another family gathering at my in-laws' home. All in all, I received the best gift I could ever want - our firstborn son in my arms and at home on Christmas day. He is so perfect and beautiful and absolutely wonderful to behold. I am in awe at God's gift to us, a tiny and trusting little eternal soul to care for the rest of our lives. Even though my hopes for Michael Ryan's birth were different than the outcome, I know that God's plans are always better than my own. Perhaps it is a grace that my plans go awry - so that the greater glory of God will be known.
To read Part I of Michael's birth story, go here.
Monday, September 29, 2008
How Apropos: The Perfect Feast Day
Today is the Feast Day of the Archangels Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. I find it particularly fitting that on my unborn child's feast day I officially begin my career change as a stay-at-home wife/mother. Or, as I am fond of saying, I have begun my retirement from the workforce today!
I have to admit, it's after 3:00pm and I am not yet fully dressed. Nor have I started working on any of my housewifely duties. But the good news is that I've caught up on all my blogs and emails (very important) - and there are no online shows to distract me ('cause I've already watched them).
Transitions are always difficult for me. I knew today would be kind of a waste, as I reassessed my daily schedule and spent the day with no official commitments pressing on my time. It's hard to figure out where to begin. With Michael Ryan still in womb, I don't yet have all the responsibilities of motherhood. However, I want to discipline and prepare myself before he arrives. But I can't think very clearly with the apartment in chaos (and, believe me, there is chaos here, leftover from the last couple of frantic, busy weeks)!
Knowing that today is St. Michael's feast day does clear my mind. There is a purpose, a reason, for my early retirement. It's not because I am tired, or lazy, or just plain bored with the corporate world. My vocation is to marriage and motherhood. I've been dreaming about the opportunity to raise my children, take care of husband, and make our home a delight to live in. My dreams are finally becoming a reality! Now I have to figure out how to get from point A to point B: from the chaos of the DINK lifestyle to the calm serenity of the domestic wife & mother vocation.
The best way to start is to just begin, to get moving. I've got an hour and a half before Ryan returns home. It's time to turn on the Laura Ingraham podcast, wash those dishes, and tidy the house. Eventually all will be organized and I will have a new daily schedule. There's peace in knowing that transitions can't last forever.
I have to admit, it's after 3:00pm and I am not yet fully dressed. Nor have I started working on any of my housewifely duties. But the good news is that I've caught up on all my blogs and emails (very important) - and there are no online shows to distract me ('cause I've already watched them).
Transitions are always difficult for me. I knew today would be kind of a waste, as I reassessed my daily schedule and spent the day with no official commitments pressing on my time. It's hard to figure out where to begin. With Michael Ryan still in womb, I don't yet have all the responsibilities of motherhood. However, I want to discipline and prepare myself before he arrives. But I can't think very clearly with the apartment in chaos (and, believe me, there is chaos here, leftover from the last couple of frantic, busy weeks)!
Knowing that today is St. Michael's feast day does clear my mind. There is a purpose, a reason, for my early retirement. It's not because I am tired, or lazy, or just plain bored with the corporate world. My vocation is to marriage and motherhood. I've been dreaming about the opportunity to raise my children, take care of husband, and make our home a delight to live in. My dreams are finally becoming a reality! Now I have to figure out how to get from point A to point B: from the chaos of the DINK lifestyle to the calm serenity of the domestic wife & mother vocation.
The best way to start is to just begin, to get moving. I've got an hour and a half before Ryan returns home. It's time to turn on the Laura Ingraham podcast, wash those dishes, and tidy the house. Eventually all will be organized and I will have a new daily schedule. There's peace in knowing that transitions can't last forever.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Eating for Two (or; Having to Eat is Not as Fun as Wanting to Eat!)
The first question I am asked these days is "how are you feeling?" Most of time time I can smile and claim that I don't really feel different. Maybe I am more tired and hungry than before pregnancy - but mostly I feel the same as I did two months ago. Since a few days ago I think a different answer is required of me.
I am very lucky. I haven't been sick. But I don't feel "well" either. I am in a constant state of uneasiness and slight upset stomach. It's not the kind of thing that debilitates me - it's just annoying. And I am beginning to feel little bit less excited about being pregnant. I mean, no one told me that it would be a breeze, but somehow I had the distinct impression that I would feel blissful through the majority of my pregnancy. Aren't pregnant women supposed to be so happy and glowing?
I keep thinking about the conversation I had with my mother and grandmother the day I told them the good news. They both assured me they never suffered from morning sickness. But my mom told me that she constantly ate to stave off the feelings of nausea. She said she gained her 25-30 by the time 6 months rolled around because she was eating all the time! Oh, no. I am so prepared not to gain anymore weight than what is necessary!
I think I am beginning to understand just why my mother ate so frequently.
Since becoming pregnant, I've found out that I am required to eat more often. I am not talking about they stereotypical "eating for two cause it's just an excuse to gorge myself." When I feel hungry I also feel sick. And then my blood sugar drops and I feel faint. I actually have to put food in my body or it gets angry at me! Eating frequently also requires extra meal preparation. I have to bring twice as much food to work to last me throughout the day. And it has be high in protein (or it's just not worth the time it takes to eat it). *sigh* It's a lot of work to eat properly these days.
I can't help but compare my current eating habits to those in my past. Gluttony has always been a temptation for me. I love to enjoy food! If I'm watching TV or a movie, I've got to have something to munch on. At dinner I always grab seconds - and one cookie is never enough to satisfy my craving. My freshman year of college I gained my frosh 20 in the first semester (thanks, in part, to the all-you-can-eat buffet). Since college I've battled with my weight, at least mentally/emotionally, but I've not been successful at permanently curbing my eating habits.
Now it would seem that I can finally relax about food. I will gain weight - and that's a good thing, not to mention an unavoidable change. I have a free pass to give into my cravings and eat exactly what I want when I want it. The only problem is that I don't really enjoy eating anymore! It's become more of a chore than a pleasure. And, to top it all off, I never really feel settled or satisfied after I've eaten.
Well, I keep thinking that I've got one more month to slug it through the not-fun part of pregnancy. I keep hearing that the 2nd trimester is the best trimester. It's going to be great. I can just feel it. At the very least, it's something to focus on while I am dealing with the next four weeks!
And as I suffer through weird changes in my body, I always have something to offer up in prayer. I'm trying to remember to focus beyond myself. There's always someone who needs a prayer more than I do.
I am very lucky. I haven't been sick. But I don't feel "well" either. I am in a constant state of uneasiness and slight upset stomach. It's not the kind of thing that debilitates me - it's just annoying. And I am beginning to feel little bit less excited about being pregnant. I mean, no one told me that it would be a breeze, but somehow I had the distinct impression that I would feel blissful through the majority of my pregnancy. Aren't pregnant women supposed to be so happy and glowing?
I keep thinking about the conversation I had with my mother and grandmother the day I told them the good news. They both assured me they never suffered from morning sickness. But my mom told me that she constantly ate to stave off the feelings of nausea. She said she gained her 25-30 by the time 6 months rolled around because she was eating all the time! Oh, no. I am so prepared not to gain anymore weight than what is necessary!
I think I am beginning to understand just why my mother ate so frequently.
Since becoming pregnant, I've found out that I am required to eat more often. I am not talking about they stereotypical "eating for two cause it's just an excuse to gorge myself." When I feel hungry I also feel sick. And then my blood sugar drops and I feel faint. I actually have to put food in my body or it gets angry at me! Eating frequently also requires extra meal preparation. I have to bring twice as much food to work to last me throughout the day. And it has be high in protein (or it's just not worth the time it takes to eat it). *sigh* It's a lot of work to eat properly these days.
I can't help but compare my current eating habits to those in my past. Gluttony has always been a temptation for me. I love to enjoy food! If I'm watching TV or a movie, I've got to have something to munch on. At dinner I always grab seconds - and one cookie is never enough to satisfy my craving. My freshman year of college I gained my frosh 20 in the first semester (thanks, in part, to the all-you-can-eat buffet). Since college I've battled with my weight, at least mentally/emotionally, but I've not been successful at permanently curbing my eating habits.
Now it would seem that I can finally relax about food. I will gain weight - and that's a good thing, not to mention an unavoidable change. I have a free pass to give into my cravings and eat exactly what I want when I want it. The only problem is that I don't really enjoy eating anymore! It's become more of a chore than a pleasure. And, to top it all off, I never really feel settled or satisfied after I've eaten.
Well, I keep thinking that I've got one more month to slug it through the not-fun part of pregnancy. I keep hearing that the 2nd trimester is the best trimester. It's going to be great. I can just feel it. At the very least, it's something to focus on while I am dealing with the next four weeks!
And as I suffer through weird changes in my body, I always have something to offer up in prayer. I'm trying to remember to focus beyond myself. There's always someone who needs a prayer more than I do.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Big Decisions
It's really interesting that Jen should happen to write about turning over situations to God at the very moment that I need to hear it. I enjoy reading the comments posted by other readers - and learning their stories of how God guided them through tough situations. My faith is strengthened when I hear about God-moments in other people's lives. I definitely need a little extra boost in my faith right now too.
Here is my tough situation: Ryan and I were offered a job as Residence Directors for a college dorm.
I realize that this isn't a life or death situation. But it is causing me a lot of stress. And acne. It's the kind of situation that seems to warrant the most prayer - one that involves a job (aka: money) and moving. I don't really know what I want, so I am going to lay out my thoughts in a pro/con list.
Pros:
1. This is a ministry job - it would have a clear and distinct purpose, something I find lacking in my current job.
2. If we have baby, and I quit my current job (which I will happen), we will have a little side income to supplement Ryan's grad stipend.
3. If we don't have a baby, I would still quit my current full-time day job and work a part-time job instead.
4. I am frustrated in my current job - this could be a good change.
5. We are night people, this is an evening kind of job.
6. No rent and free meals - good for Ryan when I don't have the energy to cook.
7. The bedrooms in the dorm apartment are a bit bigger, and there are 2 bathrooms (instead of one).
8. The dorm washer and dryer are right next to our apartment (easy access).
9. The campus is really small and we would get to know everyone - there is a good possibility for community.
10. This decision involves a huge leap of faith.
Cons:
1. What kind of time commitment are we really getting ourselves into?
2. If I have a baby, I will have to take care of baby and a dorm full of boys.
3. Lack of privacy.
4. I hate change.
5. What if I still have to wake up the same time I do now (aka: too early) while going to bed later than I already do?
6. The free meals are dorm food - I would probably still buy groceries and cook a lot anyway.
7. The kitchen in the dorm apartment is smaller than our current kitchen - much smaller.
8. We have our own washer and dryer in our current apartment - and we would have to share them with a bunch of guys in the dorm.
9. We already have a community in our little neighborhood - at the very least, we are good friends with one neighbor!
10. This decision involves a huge leap of faith.
Ok. So in reading through my two lists, it seems like most of my "Cons" are just complaints. I've outlined some real issues (time and privacy), but the rest are mostly issues of convenience.
I guess it all comes down to trust and figuring out what is God's will for Ryan and me. Sometimes I can be a little dense, and it may take me a few lifeboats (ever hear the joke about the flood?) before I understand where God wants me to go. This situation seems to have a lot of those lifeboats, however. There are too many "chance" occurrences surrounding the job offer. Ryan and I just happened to contact one of his old college professors (who we had been meaning to catch up with) and he, now an administrator, just happened to think we would be good for the Residence Director job. We happened to miss the application due date, but the college let us turn it in late anyway. An opening for a part-time job just happened to come to my attention the week Ryan and I found out the college wanted us to take the Residence Director position.
I don't necessarily believe in coincidences. But I do believe that God will move and shake events or occurrences in my life to help me follow His path. Right now I just need to feel peace about our decision. In order to find my peace, I have to turn over this situation to the Lord, and try to follow as best I can.
Here is my tough situation: Ryan and I were offered a job as Residence Directors for a college dorm.
I realize that this isn't a life or death situation. But it is causing me a lot of stress. And acne. It's the kind of situation that seems to warrant the most prayer - one that involves a job (aka: money) and moving. I don't really know what I want, so I am going to lay out my thoughts in a pro/con list.
Pros:
1. This is a ministry job - it would have a clear and distinct purpose, something I find lacking in my current job.
2. If we have baby, and I quit my current job (which I will happen), we will have a little side income to supplement Ryan's grad stipend.
3. If we don't have a baby, I would still quit my current full-time day job and work a part-time job instead.
4. I am frustrated in my current job - this could be a good change.
5. We are night people, this is an evening kind of job.
6. No rent and free meals - good for Ryan when I don't have the energy to cook.
7. The bedrooms in the dorm apartment are a bit bigger, and there are 2 bathrooms (instead of one).
8. The dorm washer and dryer are right next to our apartment (easy access).
9. The campus is really small and we would get to know everyone - there is a good possibility for community.
10. This decision involves a huge leap of faith.
Cons:
1. What kind of time commitment are we really getting ourselves into?
2. If I have a baby, I will have to take care of baby and a dorm full of boys.
3. Lack of privacy.
4. I hate change.
5. What if I still have to wake up the same time I do now (aka: too early) while going to bed later than I already do?
6. The free meals are dorm food - I would probably still buy groceries and cook a lot anyway.
7. The kitchen in the dorm apartment is smaller than our current kitchen - much smaller.
8. We have our own washer and dryer in our current apartment - and we would have to share them with a bunch of guys in the dorm.
9. We already have a community in our little neighborhood - at the very least, we are good friends with one neighbor!
10. This decision involves a huge leap of faith.
Ok. So in reading through my two lists, it seems like most of my "Cons" are just complaints. I've outlined some real issues (time and privacy), but the rest are mostly issues of convenience.
I guess it all comes down to trust and figuring out what is God's will for Ryan and me. Sometimes I can be a little dense, and it may take me a few lifeboats (ever hear the joke about the flood?) before I understand where God wants me to go. This situation seems to have a lot of those lifeboats, however. There are too many "chance" occurrences surrounding the job offer. Ryan and I just happened to contact one of his old college professors (who we had been meaning to catch up with) and he, now an administrator, just happened to think we would be good for the Residence Director job. We happened to miss the application due date, but the college let us turn it in late anyway. An opening for a part-time job just happened to come to my attention the week Ryan and I found out the college wanted us to take the Residence Director position.
I don't necessarily believe in coincidences. But I do believe that God will move and shake events or occurrences in my life to help me follow His path. Right now I just need to feel peace about our decision. In order to find my peace, I have to turn over this situation to the Lord, and try to follow as best I can.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
On the Eve of My 24th Birthday
I've been avoiding thoughts of my birthday the last couple of weeks - which is unusual for me. Typically, I have a count down rolling as soon as the New Year turns. I make sure to leave "subtle" reminders to all family, friends, and co-workers in the preceding birthday weeks. Some might even think me a little bit too excited about my celebration of entrance into this world.
What makes this year different? I suppose it is a different set of expectations I formed a year ago. I was so sure that my 23rd year would be amazing. I had a really good feeling about it. Afterall, 23 is a pleasant number, and 23 would be my age for 365 days, plus an one extra day for leap year. Big things were going to happen to me. I was going to arrive at my 24th birthday ridiculously advanced from the experiential knowledge gained in my 23rd year.
I guess it all recently hit me that most of my plans have remained unfulfilled. A lot of those plans revolved around a baby - or pregnancy, at the very least. In the last year I kept putting things off, in my anticipation of motherhood. I expected my life to change drastically in the near future, so what was the point of getting involved with weekly commitments I would have to quit just as quickly? I would only end up disappointing someone or being stressed out or something, I rationalized to myself.
The truth is that I have become lazy. It's easier to push off commitments or changes into the future instead of dealing with myself as I am at this very moment. I don't feel guilty for sitting on the couch if I convince myself that a) I'll work out tomorrow instead, or b) I am just going to get pregnant (and fat) soon and it will be a waste of energy anyway. It's easy to convince myself not to become involved in activities with my parish or neighbors when I am sure that my days will soon change from employed 40-hour work weeks to stay-at-home 80-hour work weeks.
Today I finally faced what I have been avoiding - a look back at the past year. My life has changed, I can't deny it. I am coming up on one year as a full-time salaried employee (as opposed to a temporary worker). Ryan's graduate work has taken a different course, leading him down a better path. I have really been getting to know my baby sister, since she joined the ND family as a freshman last August. I've changed apartments and been able to spend much more quality time with my FUS neighbors. I have strengthened my photography skills with our new digital camera. I've finally started to set down roots in our new parish. And I've been asked the most wonderful of all requests - to be a Matron of Honor in Aislinn's wedding. Indeed, there have been many good and satisfying events in my 23rd year.
It's just that my greatest desire remains unfulfilled. I wish to be a mother. And I was so sure that I would happen in my 23rd year.
Today I didn't just face my disappointment - I also stopped making excuses for laziness. I don't know when I will become a mother. At this moment, however, I have to throw off my hesitations and start living vibrantly again. It's time to cast off my deficient plans and strive towards God's perfect plans. Iplan hope to have a wonderful birthday tomorrow, no matter what it brings.
What makes this year different? I suppose it is a different set of expectations I formed a year ago. I was so sure that my 23rd year would be amazing. I had a really good feeling about it. Afterall, 23 is a pleasant number, and 23 would be my age for 365 days, plus an one extra day for leap year. Big things were going to happen to me. I was going to arrive at my 24th birthday ridiculously advanced from the experiential knowledge gained in my 23rd year.
I guess it all recently hit me that most of my plans have remained unfulfilled. A lot of those plans revolved around a baby - or pregnancy, at the very least. In the last year I kept putting things off, in my anticipation of motherhood. I expected my life to change drastically in the near future, so what was the point of getting involved with weekly commitments I would have to quit just as quickly? I would only end up disappointing someone or being stressed out or something, I rationalized to myself.
The truth is that I have become lazy. It's easier to push off commitments or changes into the future instead of dealing with myself as I am at this very moment. I don't feel guilty for sitting on the couch if I convince myself that a) I'll work out tomorrow instead, or b) I am just going to get pregnant (and fat) soon and it will be a waste of energy anyway. It's easy to convince myself not to become involved in activities with my parish or neighbors when I am sure that my days will soon change from employed 40-hour work weeks to stay-at-home 80-hour work weeks.
Today I finally faced what I have been avoiding - a look back at the past year. My life has changed, I can't deny it. I am coming up on one year as a full-time salaried employee (as opposed to a temporary worker). Ryan's graduate work has taken a different course, leading him down a better path. I have really been getting to know my baby sister, since she joined the ND family as a freshman last August. I've changed apartments and been able to spend much more quality time with my FUS neighbors. I have strengthened my photography skills with our new digital camera. I've finally started to set down roots in our new parish. And I've been asked the most wonderful of all requests - to be a Matron of Honor in Aislinn's wedding. Indeed, there have been many good and satisfying events in my 23rd year.
It's just that my greatest desire remains unfulfilled. I wish to be a mother. And I was so sure that I would happen in my 23rd year.
Today I didn't just face my disappointment - I also stopped making excuses for laziness. I don't know when I will become a mother. At this moment, however, I have to throw off my hesitations and start living vibrantly again. It's time to cast off my deficient plans and strive towards God's perfect plans. I
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Trying to Make a Baby
In the last 2 years, it seems like a lot of our college friends have kissed on their wedding altars and been granted a honeymoon baby. My calendar keeps filling up with due dates preceding first wedding anniversaries. I have not yet met any of these little blessings in person, but I have spent countless hours watching them grow up in Facebook photo albums. It's a little mind blowing to think about the adventures we all had in college, and then to realize my friends are honest-to-goodness-for-the-rest-of-their-lives parents.
In the last 2 years it has also been difficult to watch my friends progress into legitimate and undeniable adulthood as parents while I wait at the sidelines.
Our first year of marriage Ryan and I decided it was best to have a go at postponing parenthood through NFP (Natural Family Planning - great Catholic stuff!). We just smiled when our friends and family pestered us about having a "bun in the oven." "Not yet, but soon!" we would offer in reply. I was definitely excited about having children, but worried about money and spending 5 years in graduate school, and a little relieved that we didn't really have to think about making life altering changes just yet. And NFP wasn't so bad after all - it just took a little planning, patience, and persistence.
Our second year of marriage NFP stopped being "fun." We could figure out the method just fine, but my body was starting to confuse itself. I had to turn off my sex drive when the hormones were on - and turn it back on when the hormones could care less and just wanted to go to bed early. It was beginning to wear on me emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I realized there is a very good reason the Church requires grave matter to postpone children - it's requires a lot of sacrifice to practice NFP, and there will come a point when the end doesn't outweigh the means anymore.
So, we decided to take the plunge and would start actively trying to conceive in October. It was supposed to be a great month - a lot of Ryan's graduate problems had worked themselves out at that point, and our grave matter wasn't so grave any more. Then the last week of September my sister-in-law's fiance, Joel (our families are very close, and he's practically a brother), had a very bad accident where he burned over 65% of his body and was put into a medicated coma for 6 weeks. Life changed in an instant. Our families pulled together and did what we could to get through a very trying time. Joel is getting better now, but his path to recovery is far from over. In fact, he has another surgery at the Mayo Clinic on Friday - please keep him in your prayers.
Needless to say, October wasn't a good time to start a family anymore. Over the last six months Ryan and I have found one obstacle after another in our way. My stress levels have been through the roof, and my normally stable fertility cycles don't make sense on the chart anymore. To top it off, we found out in the last six months that still more of our dear friends are expecting babies this summer. I am so joyful and so pained at the same time. I keep seeing my friends moving forward and I feel stuck somewhere in between.
Today just kind of culminates my feelings of frustration and inadequacy. Each month I have big plans about getting pregnant - and each month my plans go awry. And here I stand again, a new month, another failed plan, and a little less hope to carry me through it. I don't really know where to go from here.
As you can tell, I am feeling a bit depressed today - but I realize that I have so many other blessings too. God has blessed me with a very good friend (you know who you are!) to be a comforting shoulder as we both struggle in our wait for children. And this month's cycle isn't over yet either. I am so silly - I have an early (and possibly unfounded) disappointment! It's really hard to have hope today, to trust that God's plan is bigger than I can imagine. Please pray for me. I really need it.
In the last 2 years it has also been difficult to watch my friends progress into legitimate and undeniable adulthood as parents while I wait at the sidelines.
Our first year of marriage Ryan and I decided it was best to have a go at postponing parenthood through NFP (Natural Family Planning - great Catholic stuff!). We just smiled when our friends and family pestered us about having a "bun in the oven." "Not yet, but soon!" we would offer in reply. I was definitely excited about having children, but worried about money and spending 5 years in graduate school, and a little relieved that we didn't really have to think about making life altering changes just yet. And NFP wasn't so bad after all - it just took a little planning, patience, and persistence.
Our second year of marriage NFP stopped being "fun." We could figure out the method just fine, but my body was starting to confuse itself. I had to turn off my sex drive when the hormones were on - and turn it back on when the hormones could care less and just wanted to go to bed early. It was beginning to wear on me emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I realized there is a very good reason the Church requires grave matter to postpone children - it's requires a lot of sacrifice to practice NFP, and there will come a point when the end doesn't outweigh the means anymore.
So, we decided to take the plunge and would start actively trying to conceive in October. It was supposed to be a great month - a lot of Ryan's graduate problems had worked themselves out at that point, and our grave matter wasn't so grave any more. Then the last week of September my sister-in-law's fiance, Joel (our families are very close, and he's practically a brother), had a very bad accident where he burned over 65% of his body and was put into a medicated coma for 6 weeks. Life changed in an instant. Our families pulled together and did what we could to get through a very trying time. Joel is getting better now, but his path to recovery is far from over. In fact, he has another surgery at the Mayo Clinic on Friday - please keep him in your prayers.
Needless to say, October wasn't a good time to start a family anymore. Over the last six months Ryan and I have found one obstacle after another in our way. My stress levels have been through the roof, and my normally stable fertility cycles don't make sense on the chart anymore. To top it off, we found out in the last six months that still more of our dear friends are expecting babies this summer. I am so joyful and so pained at the same time. I keep seeing my friends moving forward and I feel stuck somewhere in between.
Today just kind of culminates my feelings of frustration and inadequacy. Each month I have big plans about getting pregnant - and each month my plans go awry. And here I stand again, a new month, another failed plan, and a little less hope to carry me through it. I don't really know where to go from here.
As you can tell, I am feeling a bit depressed today - but I realize that I have so many other blessings too. God has blessed me with a very good friend (you know who you are!) to be a comforting shoulder as we both struggle in our wait for children. And this month's cycle isn't over yet either. I am so silly - I have an early (and possibly unfounded) disappointment! It's really hard to have hope today, to trust that God's plan is bigger than I can imagine. Please pray for me. I really need it.
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