Pain

I participate in a number of on-line discussion groups about childbirth. It has become something of a passion of mine. Most of these groups have some sort of loss forum, set aside to discuss and remember miscarriages, stillbirths, and other children who have passed on. I tend not to hang out in these areas very much, simply because it is heart wrenching. Once in a while, though, questions about miscarriage make it into the main discussions as well. A question was posted recently that I found quite intriguing.

A woman had experienced multiple miscarriages. One had been medically induced. She had experienced terrible pain on each occasion. Now, she is expecting again. She has made it through the treacherous first trimester and she is starting to think about her birthing options.

"What is the pain like?" she asked. "How does birth compare to miscarriage? Do I have any chance of having an unmedicated birth?"

It got me thinking. I've had one unmedicated birth and two early miscarriages. The first miscarriage, I hadn't realized was happening. The second, I was aware throughout.

In my experience, the biggest differences between the two have been time and attitude. Both miscarriages took several hours of sharp pain, but it was only the sharp pain I was aware of. My daughter's birth started out slowly, and more gently. The contractions got harder and stronger, and, yes, quite painful, but not until the end. In the case of the miscarriages, it was as if all I felt was the very end.

My focus was different in each case, as well. During the birth, I was focused on not being in pain anymore, but I was overwhelmed with the sense of giving birth to my child. I'd prepared for months. I'd gone to classes. This was it! I was scared, excited, and (I thought) ready.

During my first miscarriage, I hadn't known I was pregnant. I was expecting my period about that time and was surprised by the strength of the "menstrual cramps" that month. It wasn't until days later that I could look back and recognize what the intense pain had really been. Because of my ignorance, I did not have any emotions attached to the physical pain. It just hurt. I took some Excedrin and curled up in bed.

My second miscarriage came just days after a faintly positive pregnancy test. I was not terribly surprised. I'd been spotting even before I tested, so I knew already miscarriage was a distinct possibility. The physical pain was not as severe as the first time (I was only about half as far along), but emotionally, I knew I was losing my baby.

I try to imagine what it would be like to have experienced this all in reverse. To have only known the pain, but not the joy. I'm not sure I can. My heart goes out to the women for whom pain is their only experience, yet are trying again, believing, hoping in the joy they have yet to know. I wonder, if I'd only had the pain first, would I have the strength to hope?

Rainy Days and Mondays

They don't always get me down. In fact, when it's been 90+ degrees outside for the past several days, a bit of rain can be a very welcome thing. As for Mondays ... well, I have a little secret. Monday is "ladies night" around here.

Adam and I both belong to prayer groups. He meets with the boys on Wednesday nights and I meet with the girls on Mondays. My group recently celebrated our fifth anniversary of meeting weekly to pray for one another. In honor of this milestone, I designed and framed a print highlighting our years together and as a little reminder of why we do what we do.

The text is a little hard to read in this picture. Surrounding the numbers in each circle, I've counted down:

5 years together
4 friends joined*
3 weddings celebrated
2 babies born
1 purpose

Along the right edge of the inner circle are our names and dates of the first prayer meeting and the fifth anniversary.

The words on the left are my paraphrase of the prayer passage in James 5:

Is anyone suffering? Pray for her.
Is anyone joyful? Sing praises.
Is anyone sick? Call the church to pray.
The prayers made in faith will heal the sick. If you have sinned, you will be forgiven.
Pray for one another so you may be healed. Confess sins to each other.
The prayer of a righteous woman is powerful and can accomplish much.

We haven't always met on Mondays. We used to meet on Tuesdays, then Thursdays, but when we've talked about it, the group consensus seemed to be that it's nice to start out the week with a fresh bath of prayer.

-----
*In the way of being complete honesty, the four of us who are currently part of the group have not all been together five years. Three of us started out five years ago and we had a different fourth member for nearly a year and a half until she deserted us for a snazzy new job out of state (just kidding, my friend!). Our current fourth member joined us about a year later.

American Idyll

My daughter is bouncing on the couch right now, singing to herself:

We singing glowy, glowy
Hallelujah
He wanes, He wanes
We singing glowy, glowy
Hallelujah
He wanes, He wanes

Newsboys ain't got nothing on her.

Q & A

I've been looking for something light to write so I wouldn't have to think very hard. I saw this on Lori's blog today and it seems to fit the bill.

7 Burning Questions

1. If you could have an endless supply of any food, what would it be and why?

Just one? Lately I've been craving pizza. Could I get different toppings? Maybe a dessert pizza with chocolate once in a while?

2. If you were an animal, what would you be and why?

I've always wanted to be a tiger. They're so sleek and smooth and powerful.

3. If you could describe yourself using only three words, what words would you use?

Loyal, intelligent, fun (I'll have to ask Adam what he would say)

4. If you could be a super hero, who would you be and why?

Hmmm ... I don't know too many superheroes. Somebody who can fly, I guess. I always wanted to be able to fly.

5. What is the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you?

I think I've become immune to embarrassment. It's probably a result of overexposure.

6. What is one of your biggest pet peeves and why?

I really can't stand spelling and grammatical errors. I don't like finding them in other people's work and I hate finding them in my own.

7. Out of red, green, blue, yellow and orange which one is your favorite color?

Depends on what I'm choosing. Probably blue or green overall.

If you chose red what is one of your favorite hobbies?
If you chose green what is your favorite place?
If you chose blue what is one favorite memory?
If you chose yellow what is your dream job?
If you chose orange it’s a wild card and you can tell us anything about yourself!

My favorite memory of my favorite place, huh? Well, it may not be my favorite place in the world, but it's definitely a good memory. I was visiting a friend in New Zealand (back when I was single and could afford to travel to exotic places). One afternoon, her family and I took a picnic out of the city to a nearby-ish beach for the afternoon. Karekare is the only black-sand beach I've ever been to. The sand is so dark and fine, it feels like walking through brownie batter. At one point, my friend and I walked to the edge of the water. Turning around, I could see our footprints, side by side. Someday, I'd like to take another walk along that beach.

Lessons in Grace

Lately, I've been recognizing that I have a really bad memory. If I could, I'd trade it in for a newer model. I keep remembering all the things I should forget and forgetting all the things I should remember.

I forget the grace I've been shown, but I remember all the "rules" I learned as a kid.

I remember to try taking responsibility for everybody around me, but I forget to take responsibility for my self.

This week, I got a picture of something I don't want to forget. Let me offer a few words of back story:

I've spent several years engaged in a battle with God over why He allows bad stuff in the world. I've basically accused Him of being a bad Father, letting His children hurt one another so badly, kill one another, even, yet not getting involved.

Last week, Adam brought home the book The Shack. He spent two days reading a bit at a time. I'd heard the premise of the book--a man loses his daughter in the most horrible fashion, he is consumed with grief and a feeling of failure for not protecting her when it mattered most, he is invited to a meeting at the cabin where she was killed to meet with God. I had no interest in reading it. I can spin terrifying fantasies of what might be done to my daughter in this cold cruel world well enough without someone else's images to inform them.

After he finished the story, Adam stepped into the room where I was reading my light and fluffy novel, dropped the book beside me, and with tears in his voice, said I had to read it.

For the next several hours, I read it straight through. I didn't like it. I don't think it's the kind of book you "like" or "care for." I do recommend it, however, as it is thought provoking. Read it with some friends or your spouse and talk about it afterwards.

Unfortunately, the answers offered in the story as to why God allows pain and suffering really didn't allay the fears I had. The longer I've thought about it the more I still don't like it. Why should those who hate God be given the same grace that I get, when I'm trying my darnedest to love God? I know. He's God, so He can give grace to whomever He chooses. But don't I deserve ....

The other night, I was driving home from some time alone, thinking about my daughter. I don't want her to be hurt. I don't want to watch her be in pain, yet I know I can't avoid it. That's when I got the picture. I was seeing my daughter, all grown up into a beautiful woman. She was giving birth to her first child. She was in pain. I stood next to her, holding her hand, my arm around her shoulders, encouraging her, "You're doing great. I am so proud of you. You can do this!"

And I realized, this is how God views the pain in our lives. We live in a broken world; pain is inevitable. But He is there with us, holding our hands and encouraging us. He knows, in a way we cannot quite imagine, that this pain is temporary and will bring new life.

I want to remember this lesson always.

Keeping Food Fresher Longer

This post originally appeared on By Hook or By Cook.

I have a tendency to purchase in bulk, thinking it will be a better deal. Unfortunately, when the bulk of my purchase spoils, all I've ended up doing is making expensive garbage. Here are a few ideas I've picked up along the way to help my food last longer.

• Cheese: wrap loosely in waxed paper and cover with foil before placing it in the fridge
• Butter: freeze butter in its original box inside a plastic bag
• Greens: wrap gently in a paper towel inside a plastic bag or line a hard-sided container with paper towels
• Fresh Herbs: cut ¼" off then end of the stems and set them in a cup of cool water as you would fresh flowers
• Meat: divide larger packages of meat into your usual meal sizes and freeze in sandwich- or quart-sized zipper bags inside one- or two- gallon zipper bags
• Ice Cream & Popsicles: keep frozen treats toward the back of the freezer, away from the warm drafts of an open freezer door

Find more tips and ideas at Rocks in My Dryer.

Grief

I was reminded today that it is sixteen years this week since my mother died.

Sixteen years ago, I was a child. A high school student just a week past the final exams of her junior year. I had little prior experience with death, only one grandfather who'd passed away when I was five.

I didn't know what to do with myself. Mom had died just before five a.m. Later that morning, I sat in our entry hall, watching the sun slant through the opening of the screen door and asking myself again and again, "What am I going to do without a mother?"

I could hear the traffic outside. Cars drove by, neighbors went about their daily routines, school children shouted and skipped and giggled. It was surreal to recognize that it was just an ordinary day for everyone else. My existence was irreparably altered, but the rest of the world moved on, as if nothing had happened.

Grief is a slippery thing. It catches you at the oddest moments. I've now lived nearly as much of my life after my mom's passing than before. Most of the time, it's a minor footnote in my biography. Today, though, I feel the loss as an ache, deep in my chest, flooding out onto my cheeks.

Devotions

I've been wanting to try something a little different with my quiet time. Well, honestly, I've been wanting to try to have a quiet time on a regular basis again. Once upon a time, back before I was married and had a child, QT consisted of reading though a book of the Bible while journaling and praying as the Spirit led. While I think that's a great system for somebody who has a lot of time and few demands on her schedule, that's just not me anymore.

So, help me out here:

What do you do to make sure your keeping up with God on a regular basis?

Is there a particular devotional guide that you enjoy? Do you have your own system of reading in the morning/praying in the shower/journaling after the kids go to bed? Feel free to link to your favorite devotional website or book, just please format your hyperlinks (as below), rather than spelling out full addresses.

Text Hyperlinks

Set your code up like so:
<a href="http://www.expimag.blogspot.com">Experience Imagination</a>

Once the comment is published, you will see this:
Experience Imagination

Something About Transitive Verbs

My daughter came over to me this evening holding a crayon to a pad of paper.

She: I'm the order.

I: You're the orderer?

She: No, I'm the order.

I: You're the order? I'll order one of you.

She: I'm the order. I order you! Whaddaya want?

You could almost hear the bubble gum snap.

Going ... Red?

I'm all for saving the planet. Really. I think it's a nice little habitat. Still, there's a balance. Exactly how much am I willing to give in order to ensure that fewer greenhouse gasses are headed into the atmosphere?

A few weeks ago, after spending an hour with our old-fashioned push mower (the kind that is powered by nothing but the effort you put into pushing the blades around) to get half the front yard looking chewed on, I threw in the towel. I told Adam I'd had enough green, and sent him off to the store to buy a gas-powered mower.

When it comes down to it, I discovered that while I'm willing to work a little harder to be greener and (especially) to save money, working twice as hard with our old mower to have a lawn that looks twice as ratty as our neighbors' just isn't worth the trouble for me.

So, if they announce next month that the ozone layer has another hole and it's over the midwest this time, you know who to blame.

Adjacent, Phonetically

We bought a new camping lamp that doesn't use and batteries or kerosene, but has a hand crank for light. It's pretty nifty. My daughter likes it a lot.

Which brings us to the subject at hand.

I was catching up on some blogs with some friends on the computer and she was powering up the lantern, wandering over every thirty seconds once in a while to show me how the lights go on and off.

Apparently I wasn't paying enough attention to her, because she started climbing up on the file box near my feet in order to push the lamp closer to my face give me a better view. She lost her balance and her grip on the lantern, the latter scoring a direct hit on my keyboard. The letter "J" popped right off and I heard it hit the wall to my right.

Mama never said there'd be days like this!

P.S. Anybody still wondering about the title?

Not Dead

I've been gone for about a month. Not gone from the house, mind you. That would have been nice ... a little excursion to the south of France to start out the summer ....

Oh, where was I? Right. In the house.

Basically three major things happened all at once and left me little time (not to mention energy) to blog.

Thing One

About two months ago, I started working on a new marketing plan for an organization of which Adam is a member of the board. The past three weeks have involved a lot of effort to get the pieces of that finalized and working together. There is still more to do--lots more to do--but we've got a good start now, anyway.

Thing Two

I threw out my back. Ouch. I was playing with my daughter at the park over Memorial Day weekend and suddenly I couldn't stand or move without excruciating pain. I spent about a week mostly in bed recovering and have had to completely eliminate dairy products from my diet. I am feeling much better, though certain activities still leave me a bit achy, like spending time at the computer.

Thing Three

Adam's show opened two weeks ago. It runs through next weekend. We haven't seen a whole lot of each other lately.

Anyway, there you have it: my best excuses for not being around. I'll do my best to update more often in the coming weeks, but since typing is still a bit ache-inducing, I have been trying to keep it to a minimum.