Pregnancy fascinates me. I don't always love being pregnant (see list below), but the fact that my body can just kick into gear, doing ALL SORTS OF CRAZINESS that I would never know needs to happen, is startling. I thought this was my body! I thought my brain was the boss of my body! (After all, I tell my boys this all the time.) Turns out, I'm quite the animal with instincts that don't depend on education and intelligence.
Maybe this explains why I feel the need to keep a record of the menagerie of symptoms. The length and scope of them is so easy to underestimate. After each pregnancy, I have looked back and wished I'd kept a list. Because I instantly seem to forget 80% of them once the baby leaves my body (preservation instinct, no doubt). Well, here's my chance...
I am starting this list on October 28th at 6 weeks gestation, and I plan to keep adding to it until - yeah, till labor.
But one more note before I do. I will say that one of the biggest perks of being pregnant BESIDES THE BABY of course, is that whatever comes up, whatever weird symptom appears that would have thrown me into a tailspin trying to diagnose the myriad and terrible causes and find a treatment now has this one, beautiful, healthy, self-resolved answer: I'm pregnant! No strange disorders. No cancer. No aging. It'll all be cleared up in a matter of months. It's fantastic.
And just to be clear, this list isn't meant to sound like complaints. I'm not "keeping a record of wrongs" against me. ;) I just really find it fascinating how comprehensively pregnancy affects a woman's body. I had no idea before I went through it. So I thought a list (of my symptoms - not everyone else's) might be enlightening or at least amusing for those who haven't faced it - or those who have.
With that in mind, here are the symptoms in the order they've appeared....
October 28, 2015 (6 weeks)
1. Soar throat. I've had one for weeks and couldn't figure out why the virus wasn't going away. Turns out it was heartburn already doing its dirty work, before I even knew I was pregnant.
2. Vivid dreams. I have the most pungent dreams when I'm pregnant. It used to freak me out but now I know it's chemical-induced and not some deep weirdness lurking in my subconcious (not that I'm above it).
3. Acne. I break out all over my upper body during the first trimester. You didn't want to know this, but this list is full disclosure so if you're queasy, stop reading now. It was the first thing that made me suspicious. Could I be pregnant? No. Of course not!
4. Abdominal twitch. I've never heard of this from anyone else, but my first symptom and dead give-away has always been this one muscle in my pelvis that hurts a little when I turn over or cough. Don't ask me why, but this was the straw that broke the camel's back. I woke at 6am yesterday realizing I felt that muscle with every turn. I got up, took a pregnancy test, and then stared at it with unbelieving, suddenly not-sleepy eyes for about 10 minutes.
5. No period. You'd think this would be the dead give-away. But I've never been very particular about details, and I knew I'd had one last month (Sept) so I wasn't worried about it. Turns out that was 6 weeks ago. Oops.
6. Low-level stomachache. I haven't hit the big-time yet. This stomachache feels more like stress. I'm in the midst of teaching right now, so at first I thought it was nerves. It's not. I'm also now remembering that it subsides when I'm out-and-about with people. So bring on the socials!
7. Hunger. I don't usually get hungry every couple hours. Or find my stomach growling with hunger while I am nauseous and have no appetite.
8. Sugar-averse. YES!! This is so unlike my usual self that it's a dead giveaway. I just wish it would stick! It only lasts for the 1st trimester, but during this period, I prefer plain wheat cereal, crackers, and brown rice.
Ok, this just struck me. How do all the symptoms seem to be showing up within 24 hours? I felt completely NOT pregnant on Monday. By Wednesday, I was totally pregnant. Was I in complete denial before? Or maybe it just shows we see what we expect to see? Or maybe it's those mischievous little prenatal vitamins I just started popping...
October 30, 2015
9. Coffee-averse. NOOOO!!! Sadly, yes. Coffee and chocolate just don't have their allure during pregnancy. I can't stand to walk into Starbucks. That all reverts back to sanity immediately after birth, but for now, pass me the water and shredded wheat.
November 11, 2015 (8 weeks)
10. Could Vomit On Cue. I'm in the thick of it now, which means about half the days I feel really nauseous and have to force myself to eat something so it doesn't get worse even though I feel like I could vomit at any moment. Hands-down the worst side-effect.
11. Uber Olfaction. My new super power. I can walk into a concert hall and tell you if someone has a cup of coffee. Our church actually serves free coffee. #helpme
12. Fatigue. I can sleep 10 hours, get up to send the kids to school, go back to sleep for 1-2 hours, get up for 4 hours, go back to sleep during nap time, get up for 5 hours, and hit the sack by 9pm. I'm not sure I'm ever truly awake. A small part may be that I've cut caffeine -- not from nobility but because I can't stand the taste of caffeinated drinks -- but I think it's 90% our little blueberry sucking up all my energy.
13. Sensitive Teeth. I've never liked ice in my water but now it's actually painful.
14. Dry Mouth. Apparently I'm sleeping with my mouth open, because when I wake, it is parched. #nodetailtoosmall
15. Interrupted Sleep. Sleeping at night presents multiple challenges, finding a position that soothes the nausea, heartburn, and gas while still allowing me to sleep. Plus, I have to pee 2/night. At my doc's recommendation, I tried Unisom last night. It was AMAZING except: I woke with a bladder AT ITS LIMIT and the fuzzy-headed dreamland doesn't just turn off with my alarm clock. I don't think it truly wore off till noon. #oops
16. Motivation-free Zone. I look forward to the day when my nesting instincts kick into gear, but for now, I'm content to lounge on the couch and stare into space.
January 13, 2016 (17 weeks)
Just after my last update (8wks), my OB said to cut my prenatal vitamins and take folic acid. That really helped with my nausea (and might explain why morning sickness seemed to start "overnight" at 6wks). However, I wasn't out of the woods by a long shot.
17. Gagging on Cue. Since November, the longer I am vertical (standing/sitting), the more I feel pressure building in my chest that makes me gag or dry-heave. It's awful, and I've never quite been able to figure out how to "treat" it. I've taken a regimen of heartburn, allergy, and cold medicines since it seems like it could be caused by indigestion (like the mother of all burps is always waiting to come out) or rhinitis (my nose is always stuffy). Nothing seems to help much. I have noticed caffeine makes it much worse. I still feel it often but it's steadily getting better. I think. #fingerscrossed
18. Rhinitis. The stuffy nose that comes from all the extra blood in my system. Afrin is my friend, but I try not to use it too much. I'm pretty sure this explains #14.
19. PMS. Or that's what it feels like. It's a terrible achy-ness in my abdomen like PMS cramps. Almost always follows the least exertion (once it was that I'd taken out the trash the night before, another time because I'd trimmed the bushes outside, another just walking/standing all afternoon). THIS is why I can't exercise when I'm pregnant. I HATE the consequences. It's scary and uncomfortable and the only cure is resting in bed for a few hours (not always convenient).
20. Cravings. I've had cravings for a while but I'm finally getting hungry enough to satisfy them. And the thing about pregnancy cravings is that when you finally get the food you've wanted, it tastes AMAZING. It is THE VERY BEST PASTRAMI SANDWICH I HAVE EVER TASTED. Lately, for me this has included cucumbers, strawberries, fritos, gummy worms, salty nuts, and sandwiches -- goooood sandwiches. I am a sandwich connoisseur: Merridee's chicken salad, Jersey Mike's cheesesteak, Noshville's reuben, and Frothy Monkey's buck are my current faves.
21. Weight Gain. #duh I'm now carrying around a turnip and all of her accessories. Plus the results of #19 and #20. So it's begun, and I made my first belly-induced trip to Motherhood Maternity last night. So long as I don't think about post-delivery, this part can still be fun. #denial
22. Hair. Confession: My hair has been thinning for over a year and it has totally freaked me out. I was afraid it was a side-effect of birth control, which is why we'd scheduled Josh's appointment last fall in the first place (and you know how that turned out). Well I'm off the pill AND pregnant which means I'm supposed to have thick, luscious hair again. Instead it just means it's not falling out as much. But it also means I am terrified of how I will look 3 months after delivery. Please do not let me see your horror if I'm wearing a wig before I'm 40. #seriously #vanityisreal
Finally, I want to give a 2-thumbs-up shout-out to my new best friend: Unisom. I think it's in the benadryl family. It comes in 25mg pills OTC, and I take less than 5mg (I basically cut off a crumb at the end), and it's enough to help me sleep through the night with only one pee break. I'm still a little groggy in the morning, but I'm not nauseous and I'm getting rest. Plus it's non-addictive. I recommend it to pregnant mommas everywhere. #hallelujahamen
March 11, 2016 (25 weeks)
23. The Food Blahs. Unless I'm craving it (in which case it tastes AWESOME), I'm mostly tired of eating food. Except that I still get hungry and mildly nauseous if I don't eat food. So I eat, but not the best stuff, and I often don't enjoy it. And to complicate things, what sounded good yesterday (all the asian salads at Trader Joe's) does not sound good today (a fridge full of asian salads from TJs). I've never cringed at so many leftovers. Josh needs to be home more so he can eat what I no longer want. Still, the following seem to be consistently attractive at this stage: orange-mango juice (i.e. nectar of the gods), cottage cheese & applesauce, any fruit, cucumbers, wedge salads (especially from Bricktops), deli-sliced ham, and all desserts (and here my self-control seems to be failing me -- I'm even eating chocolate again).
24. Heartburn. I had about a month off from this, but now It's BAA-AACK. As is Maalox.
25. Pillow Proliferation. I'm reaching the awkward-stomach stage where it takes an army of pillows to get comfortable at night. But when they're just right, bed feels soooo gooooood.
26. Caffeine is BACK BABY. Thank the Lord. I can now drink a weak latte to help me get through the day. Naps were starting to make nighttimes worse, plus I have too much to do in the afternoons, so this is a great mercy. It does increase my heartburn and nausea in the evenings, but it's worth it.
27. Warm. This is just the beginning (ugh). Nashville is unseasonably warm right now (70s in early March!), and already it makes me not want clothing to touch my skin. In March. June is gonna be fun....
28. Pink Passion. I'm still riding the wave of I-suddenly-love-all-things-pink. Pink Little Debbies, pink teddy bears, pink tulips, you name it. It doesn't hurt that I'm craving strawberries. You should see my buggy at the grocery...
29. Priorities. Somehow they change when I've got a baby. That may sound obvious, but I didn't know it would happen. Anyone else could look at me and think I'm having to give up things for this child, that it might feel like a sacrifice. I'm happy to assure you it usually does not feel like sacrifice. I don't care as much about travel or socials or whatever else I'm skipping to rest and protect this little one. And that instinct is a gift from God, because this attitude is not of my own making.
30. Nesting. I usually love me some change, but not so much while pregnant. Not knowing where we would live was driving me crazy. Piling up baby stuff in a corner of the guest room? Anxiety-inducing. Not having sold our house on the first day? You get the idea. Uncertainty or chaos are especially hard right now. I think that's another reason I was elated after we got the contract on the new house. I could finally start working and planning toward a visible future! And I cannot wait till April, when we can actually get everything in place in our new home, school, etc. In the meantime, I keep telling myself to Trust God, Trust God, He's still in control, He's still good, He's got this. #repeat
April 4, 2016 (28 weeks)
31. Tailbone of Death. Ok so maybe it's not actually killing me, but sitting without a pillow or with my feet up becomes excruciating, and getting up after... (insert theme music from Psycho here).
32. Swelling. My toes are already turning into sausages and my ankles no longer have any wrinkles (woohoo). It will gradually work its way up to my face, but for now, the only relief is to put my feet up, which brings on #31... #loselose
33. Heartburn Escalation. Now it's round the clock, makes me want to gag, gives me a tickle in my throat (don't think about that one too much - ick), and makes me not want to eat (which is really the only good thing that can be said for it). It also complicates my pillow situation at night, as I need to be practically sitting up to avoid the "burning hole in my heart" sensation, even while I'm trying to support my stomach, not cut off my circulation, and...you know...sleep. I've been using OTC meds, but I may have to call in the big guns (Rx) soon.
34. Warm. I won't say I'm hot yet - just that I've started eating ice and frozen vegetables again, and that's a sure sign that I'm in the 3rd trimester. Who eats frozen asparagus??? (hand raised)
June 3, 2016 (37 weeks)
Ok, so I'm cheating here a little--writing in retrospect--since i didn't actually know this would be my last day pregnant. It's been 11 days since then, and I already can't remember half of what I was feeling full-term (#momnesia is real), but here are a few things I definitely remember from that last trimester, in addition to all the stuff above, naturally...
35. The Circle of Pain. There's a smallish circle on the front of my belly (near the button) where the stretching seems to be the worst and it feels like the muscle is crying a little bit. This was actually much worse in past pregnancies, but I felt it a little around 36 weeks.
36. Restless Legs. These drive me nuts - the constant urge to move them, the craving for a marathon or a massage, neither of which is usually possible. On the night after my parents' 50th anniversary party, my sister-in-law sat and massaged my feet with lotion for about an hour, and I think it was the most bliss I've felt in 9 months. Seriously. If only she would move in. ;) Short of that, I'd heard magnesium could help, but those supplements didn't seem to make a dent. The only control I found was trying to go to bed before I was too tired (the more tired I was, the worse this felt). Or, to his credit, Josh's massaging them, which he did many nights near the end (yeah, he rocks).
37. Eating Ice. I don't usually like ice in my water, let alone eating it, but the last two months of pregnancy, it felt like spring in my mouth -- cool, crunchy, refreshing, awesome. All of which has dissipated since giving birth, and now it's just too cold again (which my dentist will appreciate).
38. Mucus Discharge. This sounds a little gross, but really I just find it mysterious. Where does it all come from? And why? And how could so much suddenly appear just before labor???
39. Swelling Even More. Around May 23, it reached my face and I could finally feel my temples against my glasses. But by this point, I'd also discovered compression socks, my little heroes. If I put them on first thing in the morning, I could walk most of the day without feeling like I was stepping on unbreakable water balloons. The only downside? They're not the best fashion statement with shorts...
40. Cracked Heels. My feet have always been tough and calloused on the bottom, but during 3rd trimester, they reach a new low. So low I can't even get a pedicure for fear they will bleed. I can lotion till the cows come home, but the only real cure? Birth.
41. Gas. It was pretty constant. The boys LOVED how much Mommy was tooting, but Mommy did no so much love the discomfort, especially in bed at night. All that gas rolling around inside could also fake me into thinking the contractions were getting painful (labor?). Until it found its way out, and I felt like an idiot. A smelly idiot.
42. Peeing. Constantly. I could go 3 times in a row before bed and still wake several times a night. We went through toilet paper like nobody's business. I was seriously thirsty and drinking lots of water, but I also had a little girl sitting on my bladder with an occasional kick to send me scurrying. A full bladder could also fake me into thinking my contractions were getting painful (labor? see a theme?) - until I went potty and they seemed to disappear... I do not miss this one bit.
43. Anticipation. I can't leave this one out. The last month is just SO FUN for me. I don't usually have (or want) much drama in my life, but knowing this majorly wonderful, dramatic event is coming and not knowing how or when is possibly my favorite thing about being pregnant. I love that there will be a story, that we will have to mobilize friends and family, that we will wake up one day and suddenly have a daughter -- and that it could happen anytime!? Awesomesauce.
44. Solidarity. This started sometime during 2nd trimester, when it became obvious enough that I was pregnant for strangers to comment on it. I love this. I love that it is such a universal experience that it connects us to most humans on the planet -- that we can relate on some basic level and share in the joy and anticipation and birth stories and pregnancy woes, etc. It was especially fun when someone would ask if this was my first, and I got to say, "No, I have 3 boys at home, and this is a girl!" It never failed to produce a smile, a connection. And that's just fun.
45. Movement. I don't want to renumber everything, so I'm just gonna tack this on the end, because now I'm realizing I should've been tracking the bad and the good! Oops. But let's just agree, it goes without saying that feeling a baby move inside of you is a uniquely powerful experience, second only to meeting them for the first time when they finally come out.
46. Celebration. It can be easy to get mired down in how limiting pregnancy can be. I was exhausted most of this pregnancy and couldn't get through the day without a rest or feeling sick. Even the stairs inside my own house were daunting and left me breathless. So I was thankful for the few cultural artifacts out there that really celebrate pregnancy: Father of the Bride 2 (the movie), The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy (book), BabyMama (movie), What to Expect When You're Expecting (book and movie), and BabyCenter.com. When I needed to remember to enjoy this pregnancy, I'd crack one of these open and take a peek - lifted my spirits every time.
I'm sure there is more to say about it all, but now that it's over, I can admit a few things:
1. I slept on my stomach some last night, and it felt amazing.
2. I am chomping at the bit to exercise again - 5 more weeks!
3. Part of me feels sad watching that experience -- that season of life -- come to a close. It is incomparable, and I will miss the joy and community and dramatic arch that pregnancy brought to our lives: the announcements, surprises, excitements, and ultimately, family members. It was all well worth the discomfort, hands down.
4. That said, when I really remember how much harder it was the 4th time around, I am reminded that I do not need to try it a 5th. Seriously, God. This is it. Right?
Monday, June 13, 2016
Friday, March 25, 2016
50 Years Later
If he was tall, she was petite. If he was street smart, she was book smart (and lost, literally). If he was extroverted, she was introverted. If he was seizing the day, she was saving for a rainy day. He was interested in history, trains, and business. She was interested in foreign language, philosophy, and education. What on earth did they talk about when they were out on a date in their teens and twenties?
I have no idea.
Which is why the past 50 years is no small miracle. People say "opposites attract" as if that were natural (more like a recipe for combustion). It's probably true that opposites--especially while young--do attract. But that attraction doesn't necessarily survive the reality of living with someone who is such a different animal.
I've had the privilege of observing their relationship up-close for nearly 40 years, and I've come to believe there are at least two major reasons their marriage--their love--has thrived through the decades.
1. They both fell in love with Jesus early in their marriage. It was the 70s, so they probably even called it that (I can hear Keith Green in my head as I type this). Mom first, and it transformed her. Dad saw the transformation, and soon followed her lead. All in. Ever since, they have been all in with Jesus. Studying the Bible, letting it transform their hearts and thoughts and attitudes, their parenting and friendships and...you got it: marriage.
Jesus softened their hearts. His love allowed them to be vulnerable with each other, to rely on truths more central than happiness, to put each other first, and ultimately to grow more balanced and gentle with the years, rather than more bitter or extreme. It also gave them a community to support them in all of the above.
I do not believe my parents would still be together if they hadn't become Christians. Romantic, eh? But 50 years of loving each other well is not about romance. It definitely helps that they started in love and worked to keep it year after year (see #2), but there are plenty of seasons when there aren't any violins playing, and the only thing keeping you together is the certainty that God wants you to stay together, that He will make it good for you both in the end.
2. They have each chosen to make the other their priority, bending in order to be closer together. As Jesus has been working on softening their rough edges, they have always been on the lookout for ways to enjoy each other. Dad loves trains, Mom loves French -- they take trains through France! She loves intimate conversations, he loves social gatherings -- they host small parties! She picks his haircuts; he picks her clothes (well, a few of them anyway). Some years, she did all the cooking. Others, he took over the kitchen. Even as I brainstorm concrete examples, I realize it's impossible to capture how they have consistently chosen thoughtfulness and togetherness over pride and independence. They choose to see the best in the other, to celebrate the other, and to be faithful when they wouldn't have to be.
Could their marriage have survived without #2? Maybe. But then they would just be roommates. Probably angry roommates. And if you've ever been around them, they are not roommates. He still sees her beauty. She still sees his handsome. They are truly happy together, and they are easy to be around.
And I am convinced it is partially because of their differences. They balance each other. If Mom had married someone with similar interests or strengths, would she have become more extroverted over time? If Dad had found another social butterfly, would he be as wise and reflective? Would their house have found that comfortable spot between his messy and her neat? Would their lifestyle still have some economy, some enjoyment, and lots of generosity?
With each passing year, I see another friend struggle in their marriage, wondering if it is worth the pain and sacrifice to work it out, to stay together, to rekindle love. Every time, I think of my parents. How many opportunities did they have to find someone more like themselves? To go seek greater happiness or less sacrifice? To hope for easier?
And then I think about all the years of happiness I've seen them share because they kept on keeping on. All the fruits of their labors. I don't know if there is a better legacy to leave than hearts transformed by Jesus and life-long love. And it's not just their hearts that have been transformed -- it's all of ours who have known them.
Which is probably the legacy they would rather me talk about, because their kind of intentional love doesn't stop at the boundaries of their marriage -- it leaks into every relationship. The gentle and radical influence of Jesus, and selflessly looking for the best in others? When you do it at home, you wind up doing it elsewhere.
As their 50th wedding anniversary has approached, I've been trying to figure out how to honor them and their marriage. They have moved so many times around the country, that there's no way to gather their friends from each season in the same state, let alone the same room.
So I've decided to put this out there. As a testimony that I have seen life-long, selfless love that honors both of the greatest commandments. It is real. It is possible. It is worth fighting for. And in the long run, it is beautiful. And someday, I am confident that they will get to heaven, and all of the people they have loved and influenced and inspired through the years will finally be in the same room to tell them so.
Friday, March 11, 2016
It's a...
Did you know there's such a thing as "geriatric pregnancy"? And no, we're not talking science-fiction 60-year-olds giving birth. If you're due at 35 years or older, you're of "advanced maternal age." Doesn't that just give you the warm fuzzies?
But really, WHO CARES, because it comes with one giant perk: genetic testing at 10 WEEKS. They took a blood sample and called me 10 days later to say 1) our risk is low for chromosomal issues, and 2) it's a...
Me: Wait. What did you say?
Her: It's a girl.
Me: I have three boys. Are you sure?
Her: Yes. It's definitely a girl.
Me: OH MY GOODNESS. I didn't know we could do that! Oh my goodness. (crying now) It's a girl??!
Her: Yes. (smiling, I could hear it)
I immediately texted Josh to meet him for lunch; he had no clue why. Then my mom texted "out of the blue" to see if we knew the gender yet (How does she know these things?). She agreed to stop by with Dad after dinner, which just goes to show her mad patience skilz. Then I drove downtown with my heart racing.
Josh found me on the first floor of his building in the Barnes & Noble kid section, buying Angelina Ballerina and Olivia board books. One look and he said, "Wait, do you know something?"
YES! I SURE DO!
We celebrated with Bread & Co. and PINK cake pops at Starbucks. I never liked pink so much as I do now. Still.
Then I headed for Publix. I had called before lunch, asking for a cake with no pink on the outside and all pink/strawberry inside. At first, the girl on the phone was annoyed: You want what? But then I explained the purpose, and she got. into. it. When I showed up at the bakery counter, she took one look at me and said, "You the GIRL?"
Then I drove home and started foraging for clothes. I'd considered stopping to buy a baby tutu, but I remembered my recent closet clean-out: Wasn't there a baby dress from my childhood that I just couldn't bear to lose...? Yes. Yes there was...
But first, our boys had to know. Josh got home from work, I squirmed my way through dinner, and then we asked them,What do we still need to find out about the baby? (boy or girl?)
What do you think it will be? (boy, boy, boy)
Want to find out? (Yes!)
Want to eat cake? (duh)
We pulled the cake out of the box, and they're chanting "blue! blue! blue!" and I'm videoing and thinking, This could go south so fast...
But then Noah started the first cut and erupted:
"It's PINK! It's a girl! It's a GIRL!!"
And we all had a party. Right there. "It's a GIRL!"
Mom and Dad arrived soon after, and then I started texting...
The responses were so fun... (here's just a sample)
But the best was yet to come. Josh came home from work the next day with a giant bouquet of roses...
Me: Wow! Thank you! Look at those!
Him: They're for the girl!! I was looking for the most PINK I could find!
Me, guffawing: Awww. You are the sweetest! (cannot contain the laughter)
Him, smiling: Thanks?
Me: You're the best daddy! I love it! That's awesome! You are awesome. And SO adorable!!
Him, smiling but not knowing why: Um...Thanks...What's so funny?
This...
She is gonna be SO loved.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Location, Location, Location
Ok, so I haven't quite done the best job of recording all the fun pregnancy moments we've experienced this time around. I'm afraid our family photo albums might just have to settle for my Facebook updates. After all, this is child #4; she'd better get used to it. Besides, research shows she'll be the better for it, as latter children tend to be better adjusted to life, right? #justdoingmypart
Whatever.
I'm finally taking time to write a real update, because we haven't had enough dramatic change in our lives so...it's time to announce another one!
No, it's not twins.
And we're not moving to Maryland, as we thought there for a while. (Whew)
But we are moving! Right now, we live in downtown Franklin, about 20miles south of Nashville and in the heart of Williamson County. And we have loved being able to walk downtown (it's Mayberry hipster-style), participate in small town life, enjoy the nurture and diversity of the local public school, and get to know our awesome neighbors.
We've also loved this house. Even when it was a vacant, dirty, dark-brown foreclosure, we could see its good bones and hang on through the endless short-sale process. This house has seen our children born and growing, Josh finally done training and working his first fulltime-paid-for-real-non-student job, and me finally exploring the world of home decorating with more than duct tape and Target. We've transformed each room (and even the back yard) in the 8 years we've lived here. I would occasionally have nightmares about accidentally selling this house.
Which is why I refused to put it on the market. Even when I could see the writing on the wall.
It all started with potty training. That's right. Once we were potty-training Isaac, we couldn't keep him in a crib in the nursery with no access to a potty, so we put him in the bunk beds with Aaron, giving them both direct access to the restroom. This ousted Noah -- who was just fine with turning the nursery into his very own big-boy room where he could protect his precious lego creations. Perfect! Right?
We thought so, for about a week. By the time 6 months had passed, and we'd tried every trick in the book to get the roommates a decent night's sleep, we knew it had failed miserably. On the nights we moved Aaron to the guest room, we had a pleasant, age-appropriate, meaningful nighttime routine with each child. On the nights the two monkeys were together, no one heard the bedtime story, no one talked seriously about their day or said a heartfelt prayer, and momma never really left happy.
The solution may seem obvious--we do have a 3rd bedroom upstairs--but I've always been a big believer in siblings sharing rooms. We know awesome families who have recommended it as a bonding experience that builds flexibility. I don't want to spoil our kids! Plus I love having guests, and I know it's just not as welcoming when you get to stay in a 6-year-old's room as it is being in an honest-to-goodness guest room for grown-ups. Bottom line: I'd been reluctant to give each boy his own room and give up the guest room.
But out of desperation, we had just decided to do it. Right about the time we found out about baby #4.
That's when I started to feel the niggling notion in the back of my head that our home was perfectly suited to us as a family of 3-4, maybe 5. But it was not really built or bought for a family of 6. Ever.
Could we do it? Of course. People have 4 kids on a postage stamp. But do we have to? No. And how best do we think our children will thrive? What will provide the best environment for us to build relationships with them, disciple them, help them grow more independent, etc? What is the best use of our resources right now?
With time, the answer has become clearer to us, based on our knowledge of our particular mix of personalities.
It became even more obvious when we realized we might be able to simultaneously improve another sore spot in our lives: Josh's commute. It has always bothered both of us, but we were too attached to our neighborhood to do anything about it. Now, we could kill two birds with one stone. Which really is the worst expression. Who came up with that one??
We started looking just after New Year's, but our hearts were still not in it. Several times I considered telling our realtor to forget the whole thing: we're staying put! After all, I am pregnant! I'm tired! I want to nest! The thought of moving made me want to crawl under the covers and cry. But then I tried to imagine life in our house as a family of 6, and I'd think, I'll give it another week. My paralysis climaxed at small group one Sunday night, when I told our friends how I felt completely lost as to what we should do.
The next day, we found the house. The House. I can honestly say it was love at second sight. I had driven by it before we really started searching, but eliminated it because it's built on a slope and has very little yard. Then we spent 5-6 weeks looking, and I started to realize we were going to have to compromise somewhere. On second sight (our first real visit), I started to feel like the big grassy field of common space in front of the house plus the walk-out basement behind might make up for its back-yard deficiency. Then we walked through the house, and I thought it had been designed with my family in mind. Finally, we started mapping how long it would take to get to Vanderbilt (1/2 his current commute) and our church (5 minutes, tops). That sealed the deal.
And magically, something in my heart shifted. I am still sad about leaving our house and being further from our neighbors (who I dream about recruiting to our new area). But something fundamental moved inside me when I saw our new house, something that has made me truly excited about the next chapter in our residential lives. And eager to invite all of you over to visit -- and even stay! Because...(drum roll) it has a dedicated guest room, just waiting for you! So come see us! Just not on June 23... ;)
Whatever.
I'm finally taking time to write a real update, because we haven't had enough dramatic change in our lives so...it's time to announce another one!
No, it's not twins.
And we're not moving to Maryland, as we thought there for a while. (Whew)
But we are moving! Right now, we live in downtown Franklin, about 20miles south of Nashville and in the heart of Williamson County. And we have loved being able to walk downtown (it's Mayberry hipster-style), participate in small town life, enjoy the nurture and diversity of the local public school, and get to know our awesome neighbors.
We've also loved this house. Even when it was a vacant, dirty, dark-brown foreclosure, we could see its good bones and hang on through the endless short-sale process. This house has seen our children born and growing, Josh finally done training and working his first fulltime-paid-for-real-non-student job, and me finally exploring the world of home decorating with more than duct tape and Target. We've transformed each room (and even the back yard) in the 8 years we've lived here. I would occasionally have nightmares about accidentally selling this house.
Which is why I refused to put it on the market. Even when I could see the writing on the wall.
It all started with potty training. That's right. Once we were potty-training Isaac, we couldn't keep him in a crib in the nursery with no access to a potty, so we put him in the bunk beds with Aaron, giving them both direct access to the restroom. This ousted Noah -- who was just fine with turning the nursery into his very own big-boy room where he could protect his precious lego creations. Perfect! Right?
We thought so, for about a week. By the time 6 months had passed, and we'd tried every trick in the book to get the roommates a decent night's sleep, we knew it had failed miserably. On the nights we moved Aaron to the guest room, we had a pleasant, age-appropriate, meaningful nighttime routine with each child. On the nights the two monkeys were together, no one heard the bedtime story, no one talked seriously about their day or said a heartfelt prayer, and momma never really left happy.
The solution may seem obvious--we do have a 3rd bedroom upstairs--but I've always been a big believer in siblings sharing rooms. We know awesome families who have recommended it as a bonding experience that builds flexibility. I don't want to spoil our kids! Plus I love having guests, and I know it's just not as welcoming when you get to stay in a 6-year-old's room as it is being in an honest-to-goodness guest room for grown-ups. Bottom line: I'd been reluctant to give each boy his own room and give up the guest room.
But out of desperation, we had just decided to do it. Right about the time we found out about baby #4.
That's when I started to feel the niggling notion in the back of my head that our home was perfectly suited to us as a family of 3-4, maybe 5. But it was not really built or bought for a family of 6. Ever.
Could we do it? Of course. People have 4 kids on a postage stamp. But do we have to? No. And how best do we think our children will thrive? What will provide the best environment for us to build relationships with them, disciple them, help them grow more independent, etc? What is the best use of our resources right now?
With time, the answer has become clearer to us, based on our knowledge of our particular mix of personalities.
It became even more obvious when we realized we might be able to simultaneously improve another sore spot in our lives: Josh's commute. It has always bothered both of us, but we were too attached to our neighborhood to do anything about it. Now, we could kill two birds with one stone. Which really is the worst expression. Who came up with that one??
We started looking just after New Year's, but our hearts were still not in it. Several times I considered telling our realtor to forget the whole thing: we're staying put! After all, I am pregnant! I'm tired! I want to nest! The thought of moving made me want to crawl under the covers and cry. But then I tried to imagine life in our house as a family of 6, and I'd think, I'll give it another week. My paralysis climaxed at small group one Sunday night, when I told our friends how I felt completely lost as to what we should do.
The next day, we found the house. The House. I can honestly say it was love at second sight. I had driven by it before we really started searching, but eliminated it because it's built on a slope and has very little yard. Then we spent 5-6 weeks looking, and I started to realize we were going to have to compromise somewhere. On second sight (our first real visit), I started to feel like the big grassy field of common space in front of the house plus the walk-out basement behind might make up for its back-yard deficiency. Then we walked through the house, and I thought it had been designed with my family in mind. Finally, we started mapping how long it would take to get to Vanderbilt (1/2 his current commute) and our church (5 minutes, tops). That sealed the deal.
And magically, something in my heart shifted. I am still sad about leaving our house and being further from our neighbors (who I dream about recruiting to our new area). But something fundamental moved inside me when I saw our new house, something that has made me truly excited about the next chapter in our residential lives. And eager to invite all of you over to visit -- and even stay! Because...(drum roll) it has a dedicated guest room, just waiting for you! So come see us! Just not on June 23... ;)
Monday, January 11, 2016
Our Little Lentil
So back on October 23rd, I posted about how I was going to write all the things about all the issues, and then... nada, for months. What? What happened? Well, I got a little...distracted... ;)
(Written on Oct 28th but delayed for publication)
Y'ALL. Y'all. You will not believe. I am 38-years old. Our oldest is 8 and our youngest is out of diapers and dropping his nap. We have been moving into elementary-years mode and loving it. I could taste "effortless" travel-as-a-family on the horizon. I have a group of young moms on Tuesday mornings who let me hold their precious babies to get my fix. I've given away everything under 3T, including our crib. I've been moving on and not looking back.
FULL STOP.
Till yesterday. At 6am, when I got the shock of my life.
Granted, there was about a 3% chance of this happening, but it felt like no chance. I assumed it was no chance. We had an appointment to make it no chance in September, but then someone's travel got in the way (ahem) and said appointment got pushed back to November. Which left us with that little window of opportunity that I did not consider in the least.
It was enough.
SERIOUSLY.
We're pregnant. I am pregnant. There is a baby coming.
(gasp) (deep breath) WHAT!?
Yeah. Josh is in England. When I found out yesterday at 6am, I was about to speak to a crowd of 100 people in 3 hours. And I'd just had a bomb dropped on my brain. I thought I could wait until the end of the week to tell him in person. That was delusional. By 12:30pm I was texting him with what I thought was a gentle hint. It went like this:
Me: "So you know that muscle in my abdomen?" (that harbinger of pregnancy that has always alerted us first to the big news??) "It's hurting."
Josh: "Really?"
Me: "Really"
Josh: "This could be a big ride. How do you feel?"
Me: "Yes indeed. Shocked."
Josh: "Do you have any tests?"
Me: "Yes"
Josh: "Did you take it?"
Me: "Yes"
Josh: "So I guess that means you are pregnant?"
Me: "I guess so"
This was me breaking it to him slowly, giving him time to arrange his face. He got to the point a little faster than I expected. But his next comment? "I really want to tell someone." Yeah, me too.
You know what? It took me less than 12 hours to switch from total shock and confusion to making OBGYN appointments, browsing baby names, and finding out that it's the size of a lentil. Our little lentil.
I even watched Father of the Bride 2 at the end of the day to celebrate (works. every. time.) and was a little embarrassed to find that this time I related more to Nina Banks than her adorable daughter Kimberly Paisley. AND George and Nina were on the brink of an empty nest, while we were just looking forward to everyone being in elementary school. So we're way young, apparently.
But you know what really got me from shock to excitement? There is the "no going back" fact, but it really wasn't that. It was our Bible study from last year called "Stories of Redemption" where we walked through the women of the Old Testament and saw how God uses everything for the good of those who love him. We saw how God defines "redemption" as "making things better than if they'd never been broken." I'd read and studied and discussed and taught it all year long.
So now, I just kept thinking, Even if we brought this on ourselves, God will make it good for our family. And there's always the possibility that he nudged the circumstances to slip in through that 3% window. I'd always liked the idea of leaving a little room for God to override us. Well, maybe he did. But even if it was just us, I can trust him for redemption. I can believe that this will be good for us.
And I can be excited about it. I am excited about it. That was yesterday, and I'm already getting past the letting go of my plans and falling in love with this little person-to-be, this new Denny. Maybe it's hormones. Or instinct. But in my head, God is using his promises to give me peace and joy that I'm not sure I would have reached this fast otherwise.
I'm not going to pretend it was always our plan. But I will thank God that his plans are way better than our plans. We will have a whole other chance to experience this, the greatest of adventures in my life so far. But for now please excuse me while I go back to eating waffles and browsing babycenter.org nonstop...
---- That was two months ago, and it already feels like a distant memory. WE ARE SO EXCITED and are having SO much fun watching this little BLESSING grow in my belly. We can't wait till June. It's ALL good. (Should I add a few more caps? Can I say it any clearer?)
All of which made me wonder whether to keep the above essay, let alone post it. Would I want this child to read it someday? But then I realized that this is exactly the sort of thing someone needs to talk about. That if we can't even acknowledge a surprise, or a few hours of shock, then isn't that just setting up the kind of taboo I was railing against in Ask Me Anything -- one that keeps people from reaching out, working through their own shock to see the blessing? Is it really worth trying to cover up how this all began?
Or is that a part of our family's crazy, dramatic, God-ordained story? I've also been encouraged by friends who knew they were surprises AND felt incredibly loved, cherished, and part of God's plan. Knowing our family and community, I cannot imagine this girl will feel anything but precious.
But I'm pretty sure there are folks caught off guard by a big turn of events that they didn't see coming, and being able to testify to God's ability to provide peace and blessing through the unexpected is worth sharing. So here it is, the very beginning of the most happy-exciting ride for our family, and it's just getting started. And now that I'm finally feeling better, I'm hoping to record some of the fun - soon.
(Written on Oct 28th but delayed for publication)
Y'ALL. Y'all. You will not believe. I am 38-years old. Our oldest is 8 and our youngest is out of diapers and dropping his nap. We have been moving into elementary-years mode and loving it. I could taste "effortless" travel-as-a-family on the horizon. I have a group of young moms on Tuesday mornings who let me hold their precious babies to get my fix. I've given away everything under 3T, including our crib. I've been moving on and not looking back.
FULL STOP.
Till yesterday. At 6am, when I got the shock of my life.
Granted, there was about a 3% chance of this happening, but it felt like no chance. I assumed it was no chance. We had an appointment to make it no chance in September, but then someone's travel got in the way (ahem) and said appointment got pushed back to November. Which left us with that little window of opportunity that I did not consider in the least.
It was enough.
SERIOUSLY.
We're pregnant. I am pregnant. There is a baby coming.
(gasp) (deep breath) WHAT!?
Yeah. Josh is in England. When I found out yesterday at 6am, I was about to speak to a crowd of 100 people in 3 hours. And I'd just had a bomb dropped on my brain. I thought I could wait until the end of the week to tell him in person. That was delusional. By 12:30pm I was texting him with what I thought was a gentle hint. It went like this:
Me: "So you know that muscle in my abdomen?" (that harbinger of pregnancy that has always alerted us first to the big news??) "It's hurting."
Josh: "Really?"
Me: "Really"
Josh: "This could be a big ride. How do you feel?"
Me: "Yes indeed. Shocked."
Josh: "Do you have any tests?"
Me: "Yes"
Josh: "Did you take it?"
Me: "Yes"
Josh: "So I guess that means you are pregnant?"
Me: "I guess so"
This was me breaking it to him slowly, giving him time to arrange his face. He got to the point a little faster than I expected. But his next comment? "I really want to tell someone." Yeah, me too.
You know what? It took me less than 12 hours to switch from total shock and confusion to making OBGYN appointments, browsing baby names, and finding out that it's the size of a lentil. Our little lentil.
I even watched Father of the Bride 2 at the end of the day to celebrate (works. every. time.) and was a little embarrassed to find that this time I related more to Nina Banks than her adorable daughter Kimberly Paisley. AND George and Nina were on the brink of an empty nest, while we were just looking forward to everyone being in elementary school. So we're way young, apparently.
But you know what really got me from shock to excitement? There is the "no going back" fact, but it really wasn't that. It was our Bible study from last year called "Stories of Redemption" where we walked through the women of the Old Testament and saw how God uses everything for the good of those who love him. We saw how God defines "redemption" as "making things better than if they'd never been broken." I'd read and studied and discussed and taught it all year long.
So now, I just kept thinking, Even if we brought this on ourselves, God will make it good for our family. And there's always the possibility that he nudged the circumstances to slip in through that 3% window. I'd always liked the idea of leaving a little room for God to override us. Well, maybe he did. But even if it was just us, I can trust him for redemption. I can believe that this will be good for us.
And I can be excited about it. I am excited about it. That was yesterday, and I'm already getting past the letting go of my plans and falling in love with this little person-to-be, this new Denny. Maybe it's hormones. Or instinct. But in my head, God is using his promises to give me peace and joy that I'm not sure I would have reached this fast otherwise.
I'm not going to pretend it was always our plan. But I will thank God that his plans are way better than our plans. We will have a whole other chance to experience this, the greatest of adventures in my life so far. But for now please excuse me while I go back to eating waffles and browsing babycenter.org nonstop...
---- That was two months ago, and it already feels like a distant memory. WE ARE SO EXCITED and are having SO much fun watching this little BLESSING grow in my belly. We can't wait till June. It's ALL good. (Should I add a few more caps? Can I say it any clearer?)
All of which made me wonder whether to keep the above essay, let alone post it. Would I want this child to read it someday? But then I realized that this is exactly the sort of thing someone needs to talk about. That if we can't even acknowledge a surprise, or a few hours of shock, then isn't that just setting up the kind of taboo I was railing against in Ask Me Anything -- one that keeps people from reaching out, working through their own shock to see the blessing? Is it really worth trying to cover up how this all began?
Or is that a part of our family's crazy, dramatic, God-ordained story? I've also been encouraged by friends who knew they were surprises AND felt incredibly loved, cherished, and part of God's plan. Knowing our family and community, I cannot imagine this girl will feel anything but precious.
But I'm pretty sure there are folks caught off guard by a big turn of events that they didn't see coming, and being able to testify to God's ability to provide peace and blessing through the unexpected is worth sharing. So here it is, the very beginning of the most happy-exciting ride for our family, and it's just getting started. And now that I'm finally feeling better, I'm hoping to record some of the fun - soon.
Friday, October 23, 2015
Ask Me Anything
Our society is--like every society, I imagine--confused. We don't want any taboos (everything that used to be wrong is now right), but then we create them left and right (things women used to talk about are now off-limits). It can be awesome (interracial marriage is finally acceptable!) and not (don't talk about my pregnancy, breast-feeding, depression, motherhood, how many kids we're having, how my kids are behaving, where they go to school, what they eat, or whether one is adopted).
I see more lists of "10 Things Not to Say To Someone Who _______" than almost any other subject. It's like we love creating "conditions for being around me," as if I'm so fragile and insecure that the least allusion to something personal will alienate me forever.
What kills me is that it means people are afraid to talk about issues that are actually very important -- issues that might benefit from the light of conversation and community and the sharing of ideas. I remember when we were struggling with whether to have more children and it felt like an impossible decision to make but there are almost no resources available to help you make it. How should we approach such a decision when no one will touch it with a 10-foot pole? I even wrote a blog post about it called "The Elephant in the Room" but never published it because I was afraid to enter the conversation. Afraid.
A couple years ago I read Donald Miller's Scary Close, and in it he says:
After Bill told me I was being too careful, I went back to the old me, the me who felt permission and grace to express his thoughts and feelings. I realized in order to have a career I was going to have to face the fans and the critics. It's a decision we all have to make in our lives, you know, because at some point we all face the risk of being known.
But here's the truth. I knew I wouldn't be completely accepted. The risk of being known is also the decision to be criticized by some. There are judges behind every bush. But it didn't matter to me anymore. I couldn't afford to be afraid to write and my soul needed to be loved and it couldn't be loved in hiding. I was professionally and personally hungry.
So, I wrote. I wrote as though God thought my voice mattered. I wrote because I believed a human story was beautiful, no matter how small the human was. I wrote because I didn't make myself, God did and I wrote like he'd invited me to share agency.
I felt myself being a little more sturdy on the tightrope. The ground beneath me began to sink as I wrote, but I kept writing all the same knowing the whole thing was a mirage, that there was no rope and no risk and no death for falling. I wrote blogs about politics, knowing I’d alienate some of my readers. I wrote about leaders I felt were off base, knowing their followers would slam me on their blogs. As a Christian writer, I wrote about not having attended church in more than five years. I wrote my story. I stepped out and let people know who I was, not as a shock jock, but in the kind of risk it takes to actually connect with people.
And of course I was judged. I was criticized. To put yourself out there is to be shot at.But something strange had happened in my healing, something that went along with the reflective work I'd done to become healthy.I learned to preemptively forgive...
And regardless of the critics, the price was worth it. I began to connect with people through blogs and essays like I'd not connected in years. For every person I'd have to turn the other cheek to, there were ten who greeted me with a kiss. It was all worth it. To remind myself to never go back to being careful, I made a list of new freedoms.
It looked like this: I am willing to sound dumb. I am willing to be wrong. I am willing to be passionate about something that isn’t perceived as cool. I am willing to express a theory. I am willing to admit I’m afraid. I’m willing to contradict something I’ve said before. I’m willing to apologize.
This perspective has been niggling at my mind lately. I don't want to gratuitously alienate people by "taking a stand" on minor issues. I don't want folks to hear who I voted for and then nothing else I say.
But I also realized that I often don't hear my perspective in public conversations. I can't find someone articulating exactly what I think. Jen Hatmaker usually comes closest. Sometimes our pastor, Scott Sauls, says it first and better than I could have. But ultimately, there are a lot of controversial issues that I've been hiding from. And I don't think that's healthy for me (what if I'm wrong about them but no one has the chance to correct me?), and I don't think that's healthy for my community (if I'm not talking about it, who else is hiding? and who is assuming no one thinks otherwise?).
Truthfully, I end up writing this same idea every few years on this blog (i.e. Back in the Saddle). I guess it's how I give myself the courage to write hard things once I'm fed up with not saying them.
So, here's your fair warning. I've gotten a lot of questions lately about how I decided to stay home with my kids. The issue of whether women should lead in the church will not die. And I have a feeling this presidential election may drive me to some sort of statement.
As a result, some of you may like me less. But maybe those who disagree with me will teach me something or at least come to understand another point of view. If nothing else, we'll know each other a little better. And in the meantime, I pray someone else finds a kindred spirit, food for thought, and the freedom to speak their mind as well.
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Josh's Apartment
I bet that got your attention! ;) But let me back up a bit. Or a lot...
When Josh was in middle school--yeah, I may have lost ya right there--he was already dismantling and rebuilding computers and creating programs to automate his life. This was long before I'd heard of using a computer as more than a typewriter. Yet somehow he got to college and majored in molecular biology followed by medical school. I know; it's a sharp left turn. Why not upgrade that computer science minor to a major? Pursuing a mildly promising industry like "high tech"? Aw, better to get into a really well-run sector like...wait for it...healthcare.
Needless to say, he did a lot of soul-searching that last year of medical school (WHAT AM I DOING HERE?). Then, just in the nick of time, God totally dropped a new and emerging field (informatics) that combines computers, math, and medicine (his holy trinity) into his lap. And oh, by the way, he was already at the university with the largest department in that field.
Then, once he latched on to informatics, he had to figure out where to specialize. In five years, he had found a trajectory: genomics (aka personalized medicine). Using Vanderbilt's largest-single-system genetic database and electronic health record, he created a new way to research links between DNA and disease/treatments (phenotyping).
This is all pretty great and we have been blown away how God has provided just the right opportunity for his gifts at the right time and place again and again. But it's still on the personal level.
When you ask someone what they do, and their answer is medical research, there usually isn't much of a follow-up conversation. Who understands what most academic scientists are studying? You find your niche, pursue it for its intrinsic value, and pray it makes a dent in the vastness of WHAT WE DO NOT KNOW.
Or, the President of the United States decides to highlight your research area in his State of the Union and make it the thrust of a new national healthcare initiative at the National Institutes of Health (NIH).
Wait. WHAT!?
Exactly. We have been on this ride from feeling like he'd missed the boat, sitting in the wrong field, to finding a niche that had just developed and discovering he was actually sitting in its HQ, worrying about getting grants and proving himself in a tough economy to working at the NIH for his idol (Francis Collins). He could not have strategized it out. Plenty of scientists work just as hard in fields that get no recognition. We just got that lucky that God picked him, now, for this.
Or that's how we see it. And that's why my husband has an apartment in Maryland. See? I was coming back to that. He's been working Mondays at Vandy then flying back and forth Tuesday-Friday each week to work on a report for the president on how to structure this new initiative. And it's been a mighty experiment of its own: 1. trying out working for the government (him), and 2. feeling what it's like to have a daddy that travels every week (us).
Now that we're 3/4 of the way to the finish line, I thought I'd record a few of the things we've learned from this experience:
1. Traveling a lot (our normal) is not the same as traveling every week (our present). In some ways, every week is easier because it is predictable - no expectations to disappoint - no tension about whether he'll be here or last-minute trips to work around. When he's in town, he's (mostly) ours. We ADORE weekends. They're like holidays around here. Drop everything and PLAY WITH DADDY Time.
On the other hand, every week is harder. I still find myself on Tuesdays thinking, When he gets home tonight I'll ask him about... or we'll work on that together... Since he is a willful social media ignoramus (ahem), I am his only link to what we and our friends and family are up to. With him gone all week, that means he's even more out of touch than usual. It also means I can spend days working through a developing issue but he only encounters it once I've reached a conclusion Friday night - and Woe to the man who questions my conclusion after I've spent the last FOUR DAYS on the phone and web working it out. You see the potential.
2. Working a lot (our normal) is not the same as working out of town (our present). In his normal job, Josh was usually gone 7am-7pm Monday-Friday. At the time, I thought this was pretty close to gone, since the boys are up 6:45am-7:30pm. In some ways, it seemed worse because I used to watch the clock in hopes he'd get home sooner. Plus, I have to cook Real Food if he's eating dinner (not that he's hard to please - just that it's somehow different when there's another adult palate in the picture - someone who prefers Real Food to dinosaur oatmeal).
Turns out, that 15min in the morning and 30min at bedtime matter. I can't say that enough. They MATTER. They matter to the boys, and they matter to me. I hope I never dismiss that 45min again.
Then, there's the 7:30pm-6:45am for just us. Granted, we both tend to work at night. But we sit and talk while he eats dinner, we talk between and over projects, and we stop to watch a show and eat dessert before bed. Then, we get to go to bed together. I used to fret that I would get so much less done when he was here. Now, I know that it was Worth. It. Do I really need to spend 4 hours straight painting that bannister? Or writing this blog post? And what about the fact that neither of us sleeps as long/well when we're apart? I'm getting sick more because I'm tired more because He's Gone More. You get the idea.
3. Working for a nonprofit (our normal) is not the same as working for the government (our present). If we thought some of the restrictions placed on him by government-funded grants were ridiculous, they don't hold a candle to those placed on executive agency employees. And while every group of humans has organizational politics, suddenly he's been thrust into Politics politics, and it's a whole different ballgame.
To be fair, there are also upsides to working for a superpower. The scale (and impact) of the research is many multiples of what he could accomplish at one institution. At one point, a mentor told him it would be really good to work at the NIH. I said, "For your career?" Josh replied, "For humankind." Oh. Yeah. THAT. #whatever
4. Subletting an apartment (our present) is not the same as having a second home (our never). As Josh has discovered (to my delight, I admit), paying for a house does not make it homey. In fact, it makes it more like a dorm. Our visit in July helped humanize it, but the walls are still bare white, the food all out of the freezer, and he has a whole new appreciation for my Homegoods addiction. So there is some good coming from it. ;)
5. Some people ARE all they are cracked up to be. After we read The Language of God several years ago, we both joined the Francis Collins fan club. To find a Christian at the height of science was just too good. Then he scheduled a call with Josh, and we thought, What is he going to ask? Can you even say no to your idol? Thankfully, he just asked to "borrow" Josh for 4 months, so Yes was easy.
Since then, Josh has had the chance to become disillusioned by this mentor -- and it hasn't happened. Instead, Collins invited our entire family to his house for dinner. Me: "Are you sure? Did you tell him we'll have 3 little boys with us? And that they're 2-, 5-, and 7-years old? (Yes.) And they still want us to come??" They did. We went. It was amazing. They have double helixes built into their moldings and hardwood floors, and we sat around singing songs while he played his guitar. It was all very surreal. And worth the price of admission (see #1-4...).
6. We would do it again, but not forever. October 1st, here we come!!
When Josh was in middle school--yeah, I may have lost ya right there--he was already dismantling and rebuilding computers and creating programs to automate his life. This was long before I'd heard of using a computer as more than a typewriter. Yet somehow he got to college and majored in molecular biology followed by medical school. I know; it's a sharp left turn. Why not upgrade that computer science minor to a major? Pursuing a mildly promising industry like "high tech"? Aw, better to get into a really well-run sector like...wait for it...healthcare.
Needless to say, he did a lot of soul-searching that last year of medical school (WHAT AM I DOING HERE?). Then, just in the nick of time, God totally dropped a new and emerging field (informatics) that combines computers, math, and medicine (his holy trinity) into his lap. And oh, by the way, he was already at the university with the largest department in that field.
Then, once he latched on to informatics, he had to figure out where to specialize. In five years, he had found a trajectory: genomics (aka personalized medicine). Using Vanderbilt's largest-single-system genetic database and electronic health record, he created a new way to research links between DNA and disease/treatments (phenotyping).
This is all pretty great and we have been blown away how God has provided just the right opportunity for his gifts at the right time and place again and again. But it's still on the personal level.
When you ask someone what they do, and their answer is medical research, there usually isn't much of a follow-up conversation. Who understands what most academic scientists are studying? You find your niche, pursue it for its intrinsic value, and pray it makes a dent in the vastness of WHAT WE DO NOT KNOW.
Or, the President of the United States decides to highlight your research area in his State of the Union and make it the thrust of a new national healthcare initiative at the National Institutes of Health (NIH).
Wait. WHAT!?
Exactly. We have been on this ride from feeling like he'd missed the boat, sitting in the wrong field, to finding a niche that had just developed and discovering he was actually sitting in its HQ, worrying about getting grants and proving himself in a tough economy to working at the NIH for his idol (Francis Collins). He could not have strategized it out. Plenty of scientists work just as hard in fields that get no recognition. We just got that lucky that God picked him, now, for this.
Or that's how we see it. And that's why my husband has an apartment in Maryland. See? I was coming back to that. He's been working Mondays at Vandy then flying back and forth Tuesday-Friday each week to work on a report for the president on how to structure this new initiative. And it's been a mighty experiment of its own: 1. trying out working for the government (him), and 2. feeling what it's like to have a daddy that travels every week (us).
Now that we're 3/4 of the way to the finish line, I thought I'd record a few of the things we've learned from this experience:
1. Traveling a lot (our normal) is not the same as traveling every week (our present). In some ways, every week is easier because it is predictable - no expectations to disappoint - no tension about whether he'll be here or last-minute trips to work around. When he's in town, he's (mostly) ours. We ADORE weekends. They're like holidays around here. Drop everything and PLAY WITH DADDY Time.
On the other hand, every week is harder. I still find myself on Tuesdays thinking, When he gets home tonight I'll ask him about... or we'll work on that together... Since he is a willful social media ignoramus (ahem), I am his only link to what we and our friends and family are up to. With him gone all week, that means he's even more out of touch than usual. It also means I can spend days working through a developing issue but he only encounters it once I've reached a conclusion Friday night - and Woe to the man who questions my conclusion after I've spent the last FOUR DAYS on the phone and web working it out. You see the potential.
2. Working a lot (our normal) is not the same as working out of town (our present). In his normal job, Josh was usually gone 7am-7pm Monday-Friday. At the time, I thought this was pretty close to gone, since the boys are up 6:45am-7:30pm. In some ways, it seemed worse because I used to watch the clock in hopes he'd get home sooner. Plus, I have to cook Real Food if he's eating dinner (not that he's hard to please - just that it's somehow different when there's another adult palate in the picture - someone who prefers Real Food to dinosaur oatmeal).
Turns out, that 15min in the morning and 30min at bedtime matter. I can't say that enough. They MATTER. They matter to the boys, and they matter to me. I hope I never dismiss that 45min again.
Then, there's the 7:30pm-6:45am for just us. Granted, we both tend to work at night. But we sit and talk while he eats dinner, we talk between and over projects, and we stop to watch a show and eat dessert before bed. Then, we get to go to bed together. I used to fret that I would get so much less done when he was here. Now, I know that it was Worth. It. Do I really need to spend 4 hours straight painting that bannister? Or writing this blog post? And what about the fact that neither of us sleeps as long/well when we're apart? I'm getting sick more because I'm tired more because He's Gone More. You get the idea.
3. Working for a nonprofit (our normal) is not the same as working for the government (our present). If we thought some of the restrictions placed on him by government-funded grants were ridiculous, they don't hold a candle to those placed on executive agency employees. And while every group of humans has organizational politics, suddenly he's been thrust into Politics politics, and it's a whole different ballgame.
To be fair, there are also upsides to working for a superpower. The scale (and impact) of the research is many multiples of what he could accomplish at one institution. At one point, a mentor told him it would be really good to work at the NIH. I said, "For your career?" Josh replied, "For humankind." Oh. Yeah. THAT. #whatever
4. Subletting an apartment (our present) is not the same as having a second home (our never). As Josh has discovered (to my delight, I admit), paying for a house does not make it homey. In fact, it makes it more like a dorm. Our visit in July helped humanize it, but the walls are still bare white, the food all out of the freezer, and he has a whole new appreciation for my Homegoods addiction. So there is some good coming from it. ;)
5. Some people ARE all they are cracked up to be. After we read The Language of God several years ago, we both joined the Francis Collins fan club. To find a Christian at the height of science was just too good. Then he scheduled a call with Josh, and we thought, What is he going to ask? Can you even say no to your idol? Thankfully, he just asked to "borrow" Josh for 4 months, so Yes was easy.
Since then, Josh has had the chance to become disillusioned by this mentor -- and it hasn't happened. Instead, Collins invited our entire family to his house for dinner. Me: "Are you sure? Did you tell him we'll have 3 little boys with us? And that they're 2-, 5-, and 7-years old? (Yes.) And they still want us to come??" They did. We went. It was amazing. They have double helixes built into their moldings and hardwood floors, and we sat around singing songs while he played his guitar. It was all very surreal. And worth the price of admission (see #1-4...).
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| Celebrating the completion of the Report to the President |
6. We would do it again, but not forever. October 1st, here we come!!
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