For some reason leaving second trimester has been super bitter sweet for me. Although entering the third means we are closer to meeting our little guy sooner there is something special that only second trimester held for me. My pregnancy became a reality for me and I was able to enjoy preparing for him.
The first 22 weeks my heart and mind was full of survival and confusion. Struggling with Hyperemesis Gravaderum made me forget that it wasn’t a sickness I had. It was apart of the journey that Peter and I were enduring together, pregnancy. Weeks would pass by and I wouldn’t remember what day it was. I would look at the sonogram and to remind myself this is why I was sick and why I had to keep trying to keep any liquid or food down. We had to fight for our baby’s health.
My pregnancy became a reality on week 20 when I knew for sure that he had kicked. The moment wasn’t how I thought it would be, but it was unforgettable. On week 21 we found out we were having a son. By week 23 I was officially done puking and nausea had left. I was finally able to drink water again! My energy came back and I was able to do light chores around the house. When I started making decor for his nursery I thought this is what second trimester feels like. This is a small glimpse of the glow everyone is talking about. The feeling of the second trimester was short for me but I am thankful for it.
And just like that she is off to the Marines. My heart is in a twist of emotions. I am happy that she is chasing her dreams, but it was just yesterday our parents brought home my little sister. It was just yesterday……
We were doing sleep overs at grandmas,
She would make me blizzards and we’d watch tv,
She was on the basket ball team,
She was in my wedding,
She graduated college,
and now she is gone.
Growing up our mom always said “You’re a missionary everywhere you go. Everyone’s field looks different.” I guess Jenny’s is the Marines.
Marines has always been a dream of hers. Because of her dream my child doesn’t have to hear the sound of guns or bombs blowing up, due to an attack. My child doesn’t have to see people running for their lives daily from pillagers, or breath in the ash of the park we once strolled. Because of her dream we are free.
Friends and family I ask for prayers of encouragement as Jenny begins her journey.
Her faith grows more each day as she seeks the Lord.
That she will make good Christian friends.
That those around her see Christ shining through her.
I think about it often but on Mother’s day I think about it the most.
I think of the strongest moms out there.
The moms who have dealt with loss. Whether that’s through death of a miscarriage or after birth, failed adoption, or infertility. As I feel possible kicking in my belly from baby this day my heart is heavy. You are in my constant prayers.
Not only for your loss but also for the journey you are on. People forget that today is just another day for you. They don’t know what to say so they pass in silence. When all you really want is to be heard.
I hear you strong mamas loud and clear. I am interested in your journey. Your journey does not need to be a journey of painful silence and it shouldn’t be. Ignoring or putting you in silence does not take away the hurt. It only steepens it. Your journey should be echoed and prayed for. Because God hears the broken hearted and so should the rest of us.
Strongest mamas you are loved, you are prayed for, and you are heard.
I compare my heart to a home being remodeled. It has a starting point, that isn’t quite how I want it to be. As all the tools are taken out and the work begins it starts to look messy, and even broken. A part of me wants to put it all back and even postpone the fixing. I cant stand the mess! It becomes too hard. It looks more broken then worked on. But I know with time, effort and a desire, it will grow. Even when it seems finished there is always maintenance to be done. Forever with my heart you are growing me , breaking me and changing me.
I love my rain boots! The memories behind these boots always bring a smile to my face. The memories of Ecola dance in the back of my mind as I slip them on year after year.
I will always cherish the friendships that were made, the lessons learned, the Biblical teaching, and the peace I had. It is weird to think that had I not gone to Ecola I would have not met Peter, because I never would have met Jessica at school.
All it took for me was one coffee in Minnesota and I knew as I walked out of those doors I was going to Bible school. Seven years ago. This was one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life.
My rain boots have special place in my heart, with Ecola.
Do you guys have that one item that every time you wear it fond memories come back?
For those who work with youth I want you to know that what you say is impactful. Reading the small pieces of my youthful heart my youth leader encouraged me to start a blog.
“You should start a blog.”
Those powerful words of encouragement year after year started to make me wonder if maybe my writings are worth reading and maybe she isn’t just being nice. Her blog is here! When I started sharing my poems with my cousins and a few other people I became more confident in my writing and that is when the blog began.
So at 16 I kept my journals close and at 20 I published my first writing.
My blog was mine a few years ago before it became ours. In fact it was hidden in journals before even publishing. Some of my writings are about ten years old.
I am believer and I believe I was given a gift. My spelling may be off and my grammer well…lets not talk about that. My only hope for this blog is that if glorifies God and encourages others in their seasons that they are going through as well.
Very few people know this about me…I do not like cooking. When I was younger I used to tell my mom that I was going to have to marry Doctor slash Chef that way everything’s taken care of. Of course it made perfect sense in a fourteen year old’s mind. As much as it was a joke the idea of cooking was still horrible to me.
But slowly each day with my husbands encouragement I’m becoming more confident.
This is an insecurity God is working on in me. It has honestly been one of the toughest parts of being a newly wed. But because of our work schedules I am the main cook in our house.
Sometimes Peter helps me chop up veggies or check on the food to help me keep going. Many times I want to throw in the apron and call it quits.
For those who know Peter he is known as the picky eater. I haven’t witnessed it yet with my cooking.
Since we have been married I have made soup for the first time and used the crock pot. I’ve been trying different recipes but I keep them similar.
I set a meal plan so I’m only shopping twice a month (that way I don’t feel like I’m always always at the store) and stick to our budget. There were times when there would be a week left until the next month and I would have to get creative. Luckily cooking allows that.
Slowly each day I am becoming more confident as God is working out the insecurities in me.