Ramblings of a (grateful) Sleep-Deprived Mommy

So much on my mind tonight as I rock and nurse my sweet baby to sleep. So many thoughts I haven't had a spare second to think and feelings I haven't had the energy to feel. There's the desperation for more sleep, as Annalynn still confuses day and night. She's really an easy baby, but whereas during the day she'll pass out anywhere and nothing will wake her, at night she just doesn't like going back to sleep. Me, I love sleep. Long, nighttime, cozy sleep. But that's not happening. 

Last week I kicked Luke out into the guest room hoping he might get a bit more sleep that way, and I could call on him in moments of exhausted deprivation. And it does work a bit, unless Michael wakes up at 3 a.m. and insists on watching movies and daddy is too tired to fight that battle so he gets up and sits on the couch until a few hours in when Michael drifts back to sleep and Luke can start his day with quiet time and coffee and getting ready for work. No going back to sleep there. 

In the meantime, our waking hours together are spent juggling kids and laundry and life, and as of late, taking turns getting incredibly frustrated at a certain three-nager who is testing every last fiber of resolve we have left. Call it adjustment to baby sister. Call it being three. Whatever it is, it's tough. Like, makes-me-want-to-pull-my-hair-out-and-scream sometimes tough. 

Let me tell you, I am so grateful for the man I married. He works his tail off with great integrity and passion, and still comes home to graciously and selflessly help tame the circus. He even puts up with my postpartum mood swings and body woes. On pretty much zero sleep. And not a lot in it for him other than the wonderful meals many of our church friends have been bringing. 

But there again, gratitude. It's taken awhile for us to really feel like we have a place here. We didn't immediately have a tribe, a community, those go-to friendships that keep life sweet and sane. But in the last several months that has started to shift. We have new neighbors with little boys who are deep in the trenches of parenthood and sleep deprivation and they get us and support us and make us laugh. They even went above and beyond by taking in Michael as their own while we were busy birthing a baby. And made cookies to boot. Another friend I randomly met at the park soon after we moved here not only hosted a sweet baby shower for me, but also added Michael to her chaos while I was still in the hospital and again shortly after to give me a little break. 

Then there's our church friends. Let me tell you, we have some people in our church who know how to cook. And how to package it all up incredibly wonderful so I don't have to put forth the least bit of effort to feed my family, including little extras for breakfast and dessert and everything in disposable containers. Talk about blessings. We are so blessed. Add to that the prayers, notes, gifts, and encouragement and id say we're starting to feel as much at home as we really can this side of eternity.

As I reflect on all these blessings and thoughts, I can't help but see how this week was able to sneak up on me, and fly by. That's probably good, as thinking back to a year ago does bring sadness, and sometimes even feelings of betrayal to the one that was. One year ago we started to miscarry a sweet little, maybe as many weeks gestation as Annalynn is old. It was a strange pregnancy from the start so it wasn't all that surprising, but it was still hard. Physically and emotionally hard. Our joy in the Lord truly did give us strength, and the promise a few months later of another sweet little provided a true rainbow of hope. Holding my baby girl, I can't help but wonder what if, and recognize that without that loss, we wouldn't have our sweet Annalynn. I know that little baby is safe and will never have to face the pain and disappointments in this world. And I know that God's ways are not our ways, and we may never understand the why's and what ifs. 

But as I sit here in my sleep-deprived thoughtfulness, I'm grateful. Grateful that God is bigger and awesome and just knows and creates and purposes and I don't have to have the answers because he's got it all under control. Grateful that he's brought us here for this season, and while he never lets us get too comfortable, he's provided community for us as we do life. Grateful for the sleepless nights because she's so worth it. Grateful for the sleepless days as Michael grows and learns and pushes every limit. Grateful for his sweet tender heart and his love for his sister, even if he can't quite navigate the emotions quite yet. Grateful for friends. Grateful for a church centered on preaching the Word. And grateful for the amazing man God gave me to adventure with each day. For his unconditional love, his example of worship, and his loyalty. 

Grateful for God. 

I am blessed.

Pain in Childbearing

“To the woman he said,

‘I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing;

in pain you shall bring forth children.’” – Genesis 3:16a

Pain in childbearing. This was Eve’s punishment for disobeying God and eating the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Eve had barely processed her new relationship, and with that the command to “be fruitful and multiply” (Gen 1:28), and now she learns that the big proactive command she’s been given is going to bring great pain.

I’ve been mulling over and pondering this verse for several months now. What exactly is pain in childbearing? Obviously, the physical labor of delivering a child is a painful experience. No woman will argue that (and no man will dare try). Now, I’m not looking to discount any male preachers or theologians, here, who look at “pain in childbearing” and (not wrongfully) assume it is what it is; pain in the actual act of delivery. We all have our birth stories, and some can be downright miserable, but scripture even tells us that we tend to forget how bad the pain actually was, because of the joy of the baby.

“When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.” – John 16:21

And yet this was Eve’s punishment? A few minutes, or perhaps hours (or days, if you have it really rough) of birthing pain?

I think there’s a lot more to it.

It took us four years to conceive Michael. That time of waiting, of not knowing, and of wanting was hard, especially as the months and years went on and the tests kept coming back negative.

When we learned of Michael’s kidney issues in utero, the concern, the fear, and the helplessness were sometimes paralyzing.

Though Michael’s actual delivery was not too bad (or perhaps that was the joy and adrenaline speaking!), his premature arrival was terrifying as we wondered if he would be okay, and then sat day after day in the hospital yearning to take him home.

 

Watching him grow and learn, but seeing him go through seizures and sickness and sadness and disappointment breaks this mama’s heart, though I know that he will face disappointment often in life.

We were overjoyed when we found out we were pregnant in March, though faint lines made it uncertain at first. Within a week of confirmation that we were indeed, expecting, Jesus took that sweet baby home. Heartache. Emotional heartache. And physical exhaustion, ache, and brokenness.

And now, as we celebrate our third pregnancy and look forward to this sweet baby girl’s birth in March, there is joy, but there is also heartache. After a miscarriage, it’s hard not to worry about her well-being. I find myself unable to read or listen to stories of loss without being overwhelmed by concern. We wonder what her timing will be like and every new week we praise God that she’s still well. It sounds terrible to write, and I remind myself to trust and hope, but I also know that God is sovereign and His will is perfect. And He said there would be pain in the process.

You see, the physical pain of childbearing is real. But the emotional and spiritual pain is so much more. It doesn’t stop when baby is born. It’s there in the women who so desperately want to conceive and can’t. It’s there in the women who lose a sweet baby in the womb. It’s there every day in the life of every mother who sees her child endure pain, sickness or sadness.  It’s there when your child says he doesn’t love you or chooses a path you wouldn’t have wished for him. It's there when they disobey you, perhaps giving us a small taste of how God felt when Adam and Eve disobeyed.

We don’t hear much about Eve’s birth experiences, but as a woman, I assure you that the pain she endured when Cain murdered Abel shook her to her core, and likely scarred her through her last days.

I believe every woman endures the pain of childbearing in some way or another. We “bring forth children” with great trepidation and great pain, physically and emotionally. But also great faith, dependence on God, and abundant joy. And it’s the joy – the joy of teaching our children (from our own womb or those we’ve been blessed to raise or pour into) about Jesus and doing the absolute best we can do to raise men and women of God.

There will be pain in childbearing. Every step of the way. But there will also be great joy. Cling to the joy. For the joy of the Lord is your strength.

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,

the fruit of the womb a reward. – Psalm 127:3

On Going… or Staying

Tomorrow is the big day. The visit to the urologist. Luke and I have probably put undue weight on the outcome of this appointment in our decision on when, and if, to go back to Zambia. But regardless of the validity of that weight, it's there.

Michael has kidney reflux, vesicoureteral reflux, to give you the technical term. We suspected this months ago when his kidneys were enlarged in utero, but tests last month confirmed it. On a scale from zero to 5, the radiologist said the one side is a 1, and the other a 2 or 3. According to our pediatrician, this means he'll likely grow out of it. Even so, it will require some degree of follow up, to be determined at the urologist tomorrow.

We'd like to go back to Zambia in April. That's what we've been saying since we learned we were expecting. We may even be able to do follow up in South Africa, or even Lusaka, Zambia. But while I at least am holding out hope that will be the case, it might not work out that way.  The tests and medications may require we stay here.

So for the past several weeks (months), we've been throwing around a lot of "what ifs?". What if we have to stay in the states longer? What if we need to be here permanently? And after my obstetrician said it is very likely I would have preterm labor with future pregnancies and need weekly shots from mid-pregnancy on to help prevent that, what if we go back now and wrap things up when/if we get pregnant again?

And to be completely honest, we have valid options for all of the above scenarios. We know that God has a good and perfect plan for us and for Michael and if He wants us back in Zambia, He'll get us there in His timing. But I'm going to share an honest look at my heart in all of this…

First of all, we're not heartless or irresponsible when it comes to Michael. We don't want to take him somewhere where he will be in danger or "deprived" as some have put it. We know that growing up in the mission field has it's risks but it also carries an amazing richness of life we would love for him. We're not blinded to the risks, though, and are taking his needs into foremost consideration as we look at our future.

That said, though, we also know that if that is where the Lord wants us, His hand of peace and protection will be on us. As the psalmist says, "If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall lead me." (Psalm 139:9-10)

But here's the heart issue. I'm worried about you. Our friends and supporters. What will you think if we don't go back? What will you think if we have to spend a few extra months stateside before we head back? Are we letting you down? Failing in your sight? Or in a very practical sense, squandering your support as we wait? 

As someone who desperately wants the approval of others, your reactions are sometimes more daunting than the actual course of action. The fact that you could think that we are being lazy or greedy or whatever other concept I can think of as I worry is well, worrisome. That we may have "failed" in our missionary endeavor that we've set our hearts, minds, and life on since we started dating almost 10 years ago is frightening. Who are we if not missionaries? What would life even look like if not focused on taking His Word to the nations?

Yes, we know we can have that same focus from central Illinois or Charlotte or Dallas. We could work with SIM or Sports Friends in recruiting or material development or communications or other ways to further the Great Commission. Or we could be going back to Zambia for a shorter, more determined period of time, or perhaps indefinitely. We don't know - and we may not know after we visit the doctor tomorrow. 

God rarely spells out more than a short glimpse of what He has in store for us moving forward. It's often day by day, week by week. I don't think we (anyone) could really handle more than that.

As we look for that next glimpse - as we think about April or next year or several years down the road - we know it's in His hands. In the meantime, I will try to trust, and try to humbly realize that your love is not conditional - not based on souls saved or our geographic whereabouts. I will ask, though, for your friendship, and for your prayers. Prayers for health, especially for Michael. Prayers for wisdom. Prayers for peace. 

We don't know what tomorrow may bring, literally, in the sense of February 11, or figuratively in the broader sense of our future, but we know we serve a good, powerful, all-knowing God who has a good, wonderful plan. We've hit speed bumps and detours in the past and He has always shown us a new, better way forward. So we hold our sweet babe and set all planning aside, waiting for tomorrow in confidence of Him.

"Come now, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit' - yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.'" - James 4:13-15

Our Christmas Miracle

Last year Luke and I didn't make New Year's resolutions. Instead, we shared our hopes for 2013. One of the biggest was that we would become parents this year. After trying to conceive for 3 1/2 years, we were first starting to feel hopeful about the possibility around Christmas last year. We prayed and prayed that the Lord would bless us with a sweet baby this year. And truly felt hopeful He would.

When we learned we were pregnant in May, we were overjoyed. We had given up on having a baby in 2013, but were by no means upset about that. After all, God's timing is perfect. On Tuesday night, Christmas Eve, I had mentioned to a friend those prayers and thoughts from last year, and even joked with Luke about how God does have a sense of humor and it was still possible that He would decide our child would be born this year. After a very easy first eight months of pregnancy, it really was just in jest.

So when my water broke as I stepped into the shower to get ready for the Christmas festivities for the Wessler side, I wasn't sure what to do/think/believe. Nine hours later, at 6:41 p.m. Christmas Day, Michael Alden was born at 17.25 inches and weighing 4 lbs. 14 oz. Wow! God is good! So good! And while his name has been picked out for many months, it couldn't be more fitting since Michael means "Gift from God." In addition to the marvelous gift he is, God's grace has been gifted to us in many other ways this week:

- Many of you know from this post that we were concerned about Michael's kidneys. One in particular was substantially larger than normal at earlier sonograms and we weren't sure what sort of follow up treatment he would need. We prayed. Many of you prayed. God answers prayers! His kidneys only showed a bit of swelling after birth and the doctors are not at all concerned!

- With Michael making his entrance 5 1/2 weeks early, we were told during labor that he would likely be going to the NICU. This is where the earliest and sickest babies go. But our little warrior is strong, and was sent to the level 2 nursery instead. Though it is hard to not have him at home, we are blessed that he is as healthy as he is. Right now he's the smallest baby in the nursery.

- Location location location. Seriously. We live about a mile or so from the hospital, so when they determined I was in labor, Luke easily went home to gather some belongings. And as we spend as much time as possible with Michael in the hospital while also trying to get some sleep, we are so blessed that very little of our time has to be spent in transit. Praise God!

- We are also just in awe of how God designed each of us. The human body is incredible. Labor is named as such for a reason, but is nonetheless a demonstration of God's sovereignty and power and gentleness and love. Designing women's bodies to nurture and develop another human being, and providing everything that human needs to thrive through breastmilk and love is just… wow. We'll spare you the details and just leave it at that.

- Our friends and family are amazing. AMAZING. Not a need has been expressed that hasn't been met, and we've received so much more support, encouragement, love, and practical help than we could have ever imagined. From the many lunches brought to the hospital (plus restaurant gift cards and coffee), to the friend who bought us toilet paper and dish soap simply because we didn't have time to get to the store, to those who have provided rides, and for the many wonderful gifts (who really knows whether or not they will need to buy preemie clothing?!?) brought to the hospital, to our home, or sent in the mail, it has been overwhelmingly wonderful. Even more than all that, we are in awe of the number of people who have prayed for, over and with us. Thank you! What a gift!

- And while a week ago, we didn't know how we would spend our New Year's Eve, we are ecstatic for the opportunity to spend it in the hospital with our precious newborn son, even if he is resting peacefully in the incubator.

Michael's birth drew us into the events of our Savior's birth so many years ago in the manger, knowing the pain and joy Mary felt, and sensing angels singing over the birth of each sweet baby born. In fact, I've been singing Mary Did You Know? every day since then.

Our God is so good. Please continue to pray for us and for Michael. We are exhausted, but plugging along. Michael is very tired too. It is common for premature boys to decide they don't really want to put forth the effort to eat around day four or five. Sometimes it's a short lag and sometimes it lasts days or weeks. Michael hit that wall on Saturday or Sunday and we've done most of his feeding by tube since then. He is given a very specific amount of fortified breastmilk every three hours. It seems so much for his little body, but is necessary for his growth. He is starting to gain weight, but we will not be able to bring him home until he can take all of his feedings by mouth for 24 hours. Otherwise, he is progressing very well, maintaining body temperature and proper vitals. After a few days of phototherapy, his billirubin (jaundice) has gone down and he is no longer in need of that treatment. He's becoming more and more alert (when he's not super sleepy) and more and more beautiful.

Will you pray with us that we will be together at home soon? Daddy's birthday is this Sunday, and we would really love to have Michael home to celebrate. Luke says he's the gift that keeps on giving. And if he's not home, you'll know where to find us - cradling him at the hospital.

As for 2014? We're a little wary to be too specific because we may end up surprised! But in addition to practical hopes like returning to Zambia and our goals related to that, we can say that for 2014 we hope to become better parents each day, growing in love for God, for each other, and for our sweet baby.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

God is good!