What's been going on?

Surviving: Landon is approaching five months.  The last three and a half months have been some of the longest of my life. There is just no way to describe how high-maintenance he is. And how sleep deprived I am.  None of the other four, not even Carson, were as difficult as babies as he is. I thought I understood babies.  I've had five.  I have managed to get all of them sleeping well and into a routine by four months.  Not Landon.  It's all due to gas, but you probably won't believe that.  I have tried EVERYTHING.  I can only pray that he is an easy toddler.  Now, when you see him, he will flash you a huge adorable grin and possibly even woo you with his sweet voice.  It's all a show, folks.  I promise!  Due to this current status, I haven't had much energy to put towards anything else. That's okay for awhile.  But it is beginning to drag me down. Wear me out. Take it's toll.  I miss having a somewhat tidy home.  I miss doing other things that give me satisfaction, such as cooking for fun, scrapbooking, writing, reading....Bible study!  I miss friends.  All of my relationships are suffering.

MOPS: I still love it. I am still committed to MOPS and passionate about reaching moms.  But, as is everything else, my MOPS work is suffering.  I am barely present to support the local team.  I haven't been able to really plunge into developing relationships as I would like.

Health: Being almost 30 pounds overweight and stuck in maternity clothes for months has had its own effect on my emotional well-being. That, combined with my usual wintertime issues, following Christmas I struggled to eat healthy and couldn't get motivated to work out.  With so much to be done that never gets done, how could I take the time to exercise? I was on a downward spiral.

CrossFit: This is the glimmer of light in this tunnel. Thanks to a friend who was brave enough to do it first and then encouraged me to try it. The truth is, all the stuff at home will never get done.  I can leave the house and go to CrossFit for an hour and forget all the stuff I left behind.  When I am at CrossFit, I get an hour free from thinking about anything else because I am so focused on getting though a really tough workout.  My brain gets a rest.  I fight through and leave full of adrenaline and satisfied because I accomplished one thing that day.  I got one step closer to being healthy.  And, many days, the high of CrossFit is what gives me the energy to accomplish just a few more tasks.  And, even though I started out supremely out of shape, every time we come back to a lift or exercise that we haven't done for a week or so, it's so exciting to find I can do it better or heavier.  I am excited to be getting stronger, as well as leaner.  Thankfully, with CrossFit and getting back to Paleo, I have lost 10 pounds over the last month.  I am getting closer to fitting my regular clothes again.

So, there you have it.  That's what's been going on.  I am here, praying ceaselessly for baby to get over his gas issues and sleep like a good boy.  And counting down the many, many, many days until summer. If I could have one wish granted to me, I think it would be to live somewhere else from Jan-April.  Somewhere warm and sunny, of course!

Introducing Landon Paul Fischer

I've been wanting to get to this for awhile! I guess I'd forgotten how much time a baby takes up. Especially a gassy one.  Even now, I am pecking with one hand while nursing this sweet boy.

I have been composing this post in my head for quite some time. I planned to talk about the days leading up to, the birth, and the weeks following. But, words aren't really necessary, I've decided. Not sure why the picture quality diminished once I uploaded the movie; I apologize for that.

Enjoy!

Divine Mind Changing

It's no secret that I do not love being pregnant. (I've met a few women who say they love it and I pretty much want to punch them in the face when they say that, but I just smile and nod.)  Pregnancy is a means to an end for me.  And I look forward to that end all the way through.  The beginning is rough, the end is rough, and the middle, well, it's really small.  But I am big by then, so there is plenty to complain about even when I am not ill or physically uncomfortable.

So now I've reached the "end".  38 weeks plus 1 day.  This is my fifth pregnancy.  At this stage I have been the same with each one - miserable.  It's not just the physical discomfort, which there is plenty of, but I simply cannot seem to focus on any of my responsibilities and/or commitments.  All I can think about is how sick of being pregnant I am, and the longing I have to hold my new baby.  At this point, I pretty much don't want to see anyone outside of my family until I actually have a baby outside of my body.  Which isn't really practical, since I do have places to go and things to do.  I get tired of the questions.  I get tired of talking about my due date, which still seems light years away. I also get frustrated to hear of other moms giving birth, some who were due after myself.  It's a hard time to be content and happy.  And of course I feel guilty about that for a whole host of reasons, but that's for a different post.

So, last week, or the week before - I'm starting to lose track of time - I was feeling pretty good. I mean, for some reason the sciatic nerve pain I had been dealing with for months had settled down and physically, I was feeling better than I had been.  I was sleeping better and had more energy.  I was thinking, I can make it through this, and even made myself a list of things I could accomplish before the baby came.  Like goals.  Like, this baby can take it's time because I have things to do. Silly me.

Then came THE HEADACHE.  This headache lasted a week+ and nothing would touch it.  Along with that came back the serious heartburn.  The headache took away any motivation I had, because I couldn't function.  And I wasn't very fun for my kids to be around because even their regular talking level was more than I could bear.  On Tuesday night, things were at their worst.  Thankfully, Matt was home that night, and he graciously told me to hide out behind closed doors and he would take care of the children.  I couldn't sleep and so I googled headaches in 38th week. There's the preeclampsia scare. I've never ever had any complications with my pregnancies, they just suck.  Always headaches and nausea and heartburn and all that fun stuff.  And very healthy babies.  For that I am thankful, but I knew I was fine.  Even so, I couldn't block out the noise through the door and so I decided to go to the grocery store to check my blood pressure.  Honestly, I was actually hoping it would be high so I could go to the hospital and they could make this baby come out.  But my blood pressure is great.  And, my doctor was there buying groceries!  And she was like, your blood pressure is great! Yeah, I know.  She wasn't concerned about my headache, but she did sympathize.

I should point out that my last three pregnancies have ended with induced labors due to very good scheduling excuses.  Like, baby's due date is Christmas.  Or, doctor is scheduled to be out of town.  These are good, right?  So, I have a history of knowing when I get to have my babies.  This is different.  I have no excuses this time.  The uncertainty is killing me.

So I get home from the grocery store (just after I know the kids will all be in bed).  I am feeling a bit better, just having had some quiet (I spent an hour and half out, most of it just sitting in an empty deli). Chat with Matt a bit and we head to bed at 10.  I notice some serious, abnormal pain in my lower back on the way up the stairs. That stirred some excitement.  I lie there awake and when my stomach starts to grumble at 11, I get out of bed and head to the couch.  My normal "can't sleep" routine is to eat cereal and facebook a bit or catch up on blogs I follow.  Then the contractions started!  After an hour of contractions, I started trying to time them.  I was thinking, this could be it!  But they were very mild and frequent. Always less than 5 minutes apart.  That was confusing.  Eventually, they spread further apart and even got stronger.  I got more excited.  I kept thinking, should I wake Matt up?  Should I call my mom and tell her she should come over?  But, since this is only the second time I'm experiencing "natural" labor, I am so reluctant to do anything.  The first time, with my oldest, I was sent home from the hospital after like 10 hours of laboring at home and thinking "this pain can't get any worse" and told I was dilated "a dimple".  That particular labor lasted 42 hours, and my second child and first induction was blissful and short, so you can see why I was happy to have good excuses for induction on numbers 3 and 4!

But back to Tuesday night, I didn't wake anyone, and fell asleep on the couch (obviously they weren't painful enough) and the contractions went away.  I was sad they went away.  But I woke up Wednesday full of excitement, just sure that it meant things were going to be happening!  I told Matt he better get his sub lined up!  Then all day Wednesday, that would be YESTERDAY, my excitement waned and I became more and more disappointed, discouraged, and eventually just bitter.  If it was hard for me to focus on my responsibilities before, when I was just anxious to have a baby, it was 100% harder after I thought I was getting ready to have one and then didn't.  That, plus a night with very little sleep.

Well, I made it through the day. I spent a lot of wasted time reading about how to make yourself go into labor.  All things I've read before. (At least one post really made me laugh.) By the time I got the kids to bed, I knew this baby was nowhere near arrival and so I better find a way to snap out of it. Two weeks is a long time to be a bitter zombie mom.  I crawled around the living room floor picking up toys and debris until I could see all the carpet.  I swept dirt clods from someone's shoes off the dining room floor.  Just seeing the floor always makes me feel better.  Kids were in bed and I was watching a movie and eating in peace while waiting for husband to get home from a late meeting.  It was peaceful, at least.  Went to bed at 9:40 and fell asleep by 10.

Then I woke up this morning!  I thought, that is really odd, I slept all the way through the night, didn't even get up to pee?!  This hasn't happened in months.  Then I began my internal grumbling with God and praying, as I do daily, that this baby would come early. This lasted 20-30 minutes until I hear Matt turn the shower off.  Then I turn on the lamp and sit up to read my devotion.  And this is how it starts:

Title: Your Will Be Done
"Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven." --Matthew 6:10
(immediately, I know I am going to be convicted! I can't even continue on for several seconds...)
"God knows what will best minister to His gracious designs.  He ordains all things according to the counsel of His will, and that counsel never errs. Let us adoringly consent that it shall be so, desiring no alterations...."

I think that is enough for you to understand what I was facing.  I love God.  I really do!  He often has to smack me in the face like this.  But I am so thankful for it.

Even though it is hard, sometimes, to change my frame of mind, I know that is what is required.  It won't happen naturally every time, sometimes I have to make that decision.  I needed to realize what a gift it was to have slept through the night!  And now, what a gift it is that the sun is shining on me!  I changed my attitude this morning and I am grateful I was able to.  Because I had a pleasant morning with my kids, and we made french toast together, instead of cereal.  And there wasn't any arguing or bickering or crying!  And, the headache was gone!

So, I am TRYING to be patient about this baby.  At least, I am praying for patience now, in addition to praying for it to come early!  And praying the headache stays away, because that is really a mind changer!

Discerning the voice of God (has that been used before? it sounds so familiar...)

Tonight I am not sleeping.  This is not by choice.  I want to say it's good practice for when baby arrives.  The problem is, my body cannot physically handle the lack of sleep right now.

So why am I awake?  I haven't figured it out yet.

I feel God must really be trying to get something through to me.  I just wish it could be more clear RIGHT NOW.  My brain is jumping all over the place.

Some things weighing heavily on my mind tonight include:

• my children - how can I be the best mama possible to them and spur them on to love like Jesus? and how can I teach them responsibility in our home while maintaining a positive attitude of love and a cool, calm temper?
• pregnancy/new baby - please, please, please come early so I can be out of physical pain and discomfort! it's been a long time since there's been an infant in our routines.  will everything fall to pieces?
• MOPS leaders in Alaska - how can I best support them and remain balanced in order to meet the needs of my family?
• MOPS moms - how can I put into practice this exciting new calling God has put into my heart? (mentorship)
• my online course for certification renewal - can't I just get it done already?!  there are so many other things I need/want to be doing with my time.  my heart is just not in it, but it is a roadblock to other activities that I need and want to be doing and the only way past is to get it done.
• the poor/orphans - for some reason God keeps bringing them to me, and my compassion is so great that I feel like I will nearly explode with anger that I am forced to keep reading about them/seeing pictures and be able to do nothing.  My heart hurts.  I am sick with guilt.  I have no peace.  God, please, I need you to be more specific in this area.  What am I to do?!

Thanks for letting me share my head tonight.  

This is my quiet, secret place. (not so secret, I know. but it feels secret right now in the pitch black of my living room at 2:44 am)

Sometimes the only way to have peace is to empty it completely.

Trying to express my feelings of gratitude for sunny days, which breathe life into me.

Is it possible to express how beautiful your earth when the sun shines upon it? Your glory displayed in the majestic mountains, the peaceful waters, the vibrant palette of colors splashed across the canvas of your creation...

When I feel the warmth of the sun beating down on me, it is like a tangible feeling of the warmth of your Son embracing me.  I am so very grateful for a beautiful day.

A long story, but I have to get it off my chest.

Being positive does not always come easy.  Especially this week.

This week started on Monday.

 

Matt got work hauling dirt for the day for a church friend. 

I was supposed to see the chiropractor last week, but was unable to get in due to holiday closure and our annual garage sale.  So I decided this was a quick task I could take care of with all the kids in tow.  They could watch a movie in the car for 10 minutes and I could continue on the path to pain free.

I made the appointment with an hour and ten minutes to get the kids ready and get there.  It was plenty of time.  When there was just 15 minutes until I needed to be driving away, Matt called and said I needed to do a favor for his parents, who were on their way to Anchorage for a medical procedure.  They needed a hotel reservation, unexpectedly.  Thus commenced the search for a hotel that was not too full, too expensive, or too far from the hospital. 

Time is ticking and my stress level is rising.  Meanwhile, while I am on the computer and the phone I am repeatedly asking my kids to just get in the car.  I don’t know if it’s like this for everyone, but if I am doing something other than getting in the car myself, my kids to not usually end up in the car.  More frantic, more stressed, I am finally heading out to the car, for sure late at this point.  I hate being late.

Maggie is standing in her kennel, where she used to stay when we left the house.  I could have easily shut the door.  But I made her come outside, thinking she would appreciate not being cooped up on a decent day.  I get in the car and Montana is not there.  I lay on the horn three times for several seconds.  Angry, stressed.

She’s finally in the car and I proceed to tear out of the driveway, which is littered with so many things it’s like an obstacle course (Cotton candy trailer, dumpster, 16 ft trailer…bikes, helmets, hoses), like a madwoman. 

Next thing is a thump-clunk, a howl-scream and I see Maggie running off in the direction of the back yard.  I curse.  I throw the car in park and jump out to find her.  As I walk and cry and try to breathe, I call the chiropractor to say I won’t be there. 

She is by the rock, sitting but hurt.  I cannot see the injury, other than she is not putting her front leg down.  I am a frantic mess, crying, hugging her, saying I’m so sorry over and over.  I begin to carry her to the car.  I have to stop at the deck to catch my breath.  The kids have not realized what has happened.

When I get her in the car, the older two quickly become upset.  There is blood on my arm, so that makes it worse.  We are all crying on the way to the vet.  I try to call Matt several times, but he cannot hear his phone in the big truck.  There’s no gaining control over my emotions, but I remember feeling thankful that she is conscious and her injuries do not appear life-threatening.  I think how devastated Matt and the kids would be if she died and I think about how mad Matt will be with me for hitting her.

We get to the vet and I try to regain some composure, but I can’t keep from crying while the vet examines her.  I did this.  It is my fault.  I hit our dog with my vehicle.

We leave her there and wait for a call.  Matt finally calls me back.  The kids cannot stop crying.  I am trying to get them to calm down because she is now in good care and she will be fine.  This is what I tell them.  Meanwhile, I can’t stop being upset because it is all my fault.  I keep replaying everything in my mind and all the things I could have done differently to avoid this accident.  I still can’t keep from replaying the entire scene in my mind.

The vet finally calls and I am told we need to get her to a surgeon in Anchorage right away.  I begin calling Matt, but of course he doesn’t hear the phone.  It is an urgent matter, the longer we wait, the lesser the chance for successful repair, which is still uncertain.  I just keep calling until he finally sees because the vet is waiting for me to call back and there is nothing I can do in the meantime.  Matt gets to his own vehicle, gets Maggie, and heads to Anchorage. 

Of course, all the while, we are thinking about money.  What will this cost?  There’s not even a question of whether or not we can afford it.  We cannot.  No matter the cost.  We will go further into debt.  And it turns out the cost will be around $4000.  A lot of money.  For a dog.  One more future vacation, gone.  Five more years with snot-crusted furniture.  More orphans and homeless that we cannot help.  The list goes on.  And it doesn’t cross my mind to do anything other than what it takes to save the dog in the best possible way.  What does cross my mind is how we went to so much trouble and spent a good deal of money to get her just one year ago.  And how this summer we spent the money to get her spayed.  And how would I ever face the kids to tell them Maggie wouldn’t be coming home?

And while I may not be 100% happy about pet-ownership, she has become part of our family.  Watching Matt and the kids with her makes me happy we have her.  And she is entertaining.  And even though she can be quite naughty, she is never mean.  And she wants to be friends with every man, child, and creature who comes along.  And I find myself missing her company when I am home alone and she is not here.

So that’s it.  I know people are thinking these thoughts, because I have thought them about others and now, about myself.  And this whole week has been rainy, and gloomy, and tear-soaked.  And I keep reminding myself that I have so many friends struggling with so much more – illnesses, surgeries with painful recoveries, loved ones with cancer, loved ones lost.  But that just makes me feel worse, because I can’t seem to stop feeling sorry for myself and I know what a terrible person that makes me.

I keep trying to see the positive that will come from this.  I know God often uses our trials to help us be more understanding and able to comfort others when they go through the same.  And right now that is the only thing I can come up with.  Because I used to be the person thinking “it’s just a dog”.  But now I know, it’s not.

Look how happy they are to finally have a dog.

Even I can't help but baby the cute puppy.

First time I found Hallie asleep with her.

Maggie and Hallie love each other.

Carson loves Maggie.

Ollie reads a book about boxers while waiting for her to come home from surgery.

She is fragile and must be kept still.

Ollie is happy to have his buddy home.

The girls made get well cards.

The kids take turns keeping her company in her confined area.

Fearless

So this morning, at about 4:40 am, I had just crawled back into bed to try to conquer my insomnia when I hear this awful moaning-type noise outside.  I listen to it for a few seconds before saying to Matt, "what is that?!" He's like, "a moose?"  I said "NO, that's not a moose."  At which point we both jump up and look out the window just in time to see a brown bear cub running across our lawn.  Matt then proceeds to find his gun and bullets (stored in separate locations that we can't remember) and heads outside to scare them off.  I'm inside, half dressed, watching to see if any other bears make themselves visible.  Matt motions that he hears one just down a path at the edge of our lawn.  He fires a shot and sees a second cub take a detour around our lawn, heading the direction of the first.  He walks around the house and fires a couple more shots in hopes they will run far, far away and never come back.  When he comes back in, he says that he believes he heard the mama on the other side of the property, in the direction the first cub was headed when he ran by.

This is not our first experience with a bear on our property.  At Murwood, we were lucky enough to have one visit our deck.  And we have seen evidence of bears in our "neighborhood" last spring and this.  But somehow, actually seeing it on your lawn really heightens the awareness and ramps up the fear factor.  I am always looking and listening to the woods.  I feel nervous to let the kids outside.

This fear of living, basically, makes me angry.  We shouldn't have to feel trapped inside.  And I think we are much happier when we aren't aware of the dangers lurking around us.  I grew up in very small Alaskan communities and we lived in the outdoors.  We played in the woods all year round.  As a teen and college aged student, I hiked and/or camped with a friend or two most the days I wasn't working.  I don't ever remember giving a thought to bears at all.  We certainly never had a gun or bear spray with us.  Maybe this was unwise, but we were happy, had a great time, enjoyed God's great outdoors, and never had any incidents.

Over the last decade, I have often thought about fear.  And how it seems to have increased over time and/or with age.  Does this have to do with having kids?  I honestly do not know the answer to this.  But it bothers me that I am now afraid of things that I didn't used to be afraid of.  Such as swimming in the ocean.  I have always had an irrational fear of sharks, but that didn't stop me from spending time in the Pacific in Hawaii and California while in high school and college.  Now I would rather keep my feet firmly in the sand with just the surf washing over them.  Or how about skydiving.  It has always been a dream of mine.  I have not yet accomplished this goal.  But now when I think of it I experience a twinge of fear, rather than the "I'm invincible" excitement I used to feel.  These are just a couple of examples.

I am not a worrier.  I generally don't worry about my kids and their safety and lots of things that others feel I should worry about.  I am not saying I am right or wrong in this either.  But, for some reason, now that I have grown up and seen bears up close with my own eyes and read accounts of bear attacks, I must now constantly fight a fear of "what if?"

David knew about fear too.  God uses his words in Psalm 91 to remind me to trust in Him and he will protect me.  He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.(1) You will not fear the terror of the night. (5) "Because he loves me," says the Lord, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name." (14)  

I must also trust Him to protect my children.