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4.24.2010

Pregnancy 101

I haven't blogged recently because I wasn't sure I had anything to say and I was fairly certain that you, my readers, weren't looking for a daily laundry list of symptoms, complications, etc. I will, however, share what I have learned these past few weeks in broad, generalized chunks.

Food: When it comes to food and hunger during pregnancy, anything is normal. Want to eat everything in sight? Normal. Don't feel like eating anything? Normal. Can't eat anything when you try? Normal. A combination of these that changes from minute to minute? Normal. This is both reassuring and frustrating. Although, as a good friend wrote on my Facebook page when I asked if something was "normal," did I really think being pregnant would make me normal?! He had a point. I haven't ever really been normal. Why start now? In that vein, we have renamed saltines in my house. They are known as "cake" because they always taste wonderful, as does cake. When I told the nurses at my initial OB appointment, they not only laughed, but when they were advising me on things to eat, they told me to try and eat peanut butter with my cake. They got bonus points for that!

Worry: I had read that women who undergo IVF tend to worry most of their pregnancies about everything and don't have a chance to enjoy them. Therefore, I have worked very hard not to freak out about things. I am not considered high-risk and everything has gone smoothly thus far. I have no reason to expect that this will change. However, I did make one decision that is, arguably, out of worry. I decided not to undergo any genetic testing. There in nothing in our backgrounds to suggest a real need for it and, although small, all of the testing has an increased risk of miscarriage. We decided that, since the information we got wouldn't change what we were going to do, there was no reason to risk miscarrying a kid we paid to get to find out that information. Other friends have shared that finding out that kind of information can lead to needless worry if a marker does show up. So, not getting the testing seems like the best plan all the way around.

Swag: This is a term I first learned at GenCon. It means "free stuff." Pregnant women are swag generators. Promotional magazines, tote-bags, planners, samples, coupons. There's tons of stuff you can buy and the retailers are all about tempting you into buying it. That brings me to the related area of baby registries.

Registries: Phil and I started a registry and I discovered that there are all kinds of unnecessary things that people will convince you are vital. Some things, like a highchair, will be necessary in the future, but won't do me much good in the beginning. Other things, like clothing, I need to wait to register for because I don't have any idea how big my child will be. Better to wait until the third trimester to register for these. Finally, there are the things the checklist tells me are essential, but I have no plan to buy, ever. Included in this category are plastic covers for my tub faucet and a special thermometer to determine how hot the bathwater is. Having a baby will increase the amount of stuff in our house exponentially. There is no reason to include unnecessary things.

Advice: Everybody has some, but it's not always welcome. It generally falls into one of the following categories, although they are not necessarily mutually exclusive: Useful in the future, but unhelpful at the moment; Horror stories (often given as, don't worry, it can't possibly be as bad as my friend who experienced x); What to buy/what baby will need; You're doing it wrong already; and lastly, Ignore everyone else and just listen to me. Don't get me wrong, there is good advice. It's just more precious for its rarity.

The biggest thing I learned/am learning, is that pregnancy isn't easy. I didn't expect it to be a cakewalk or anything, but I thought making it through IVF would be the most difficult part in all of this. I was wrong. Whether its mood swings, sleep deprivation, or any one of the myriad pregnancy symptoms, every day seems to bring new challenges. This, of course, is a good lesson to learn early on. After all, once the baby comes, the learning curve will be extremely high and every day will bring something new. Might as well get used to it now.

4.12.2010

Graduation Day

Today, Phil and I went to the fertility center for another ultrasound. The news was all good. I am 7 weeks and 6 days along and the baby measures 16.1mm and has a heart rate of 160 bpm. Our doctor informed us it was graduation day. We had progressed to the point where we were being released to my regular OBGYN. I still have meds to take for the next two weeks, but I no longer have to have any shots. Hallelujah! *does a happy dance*

In other news, I have not had any morning sickness. I have some queasiness if I eat dairy in the morning, but it's fine to eat later in the day so I just adjusted my diet a little bit. My main symptom is being tired. I tend to come home from work most nights and crash, and I sleep away the weekends. I haven't gotten many chores done, but I keep reminding myself that I am actually doing a lot of work--I'm making another person! When I keep that in mind, I feel more productive. Next stop, an appointment with my regular doctor in the next 2-3 weeks.

A New Rule

The Mrs. and I were at a birthday party last Friday night and learned a new rule. The rule of the house at which we were partying (and now our own house) is:

The pregnant lady can do whatever she wants.

Works for me.

4.04.2010

Perplexed, Dazzled, Terrified, Dismissive and Amazed

With the indulgence of my wife, here is the sermon I preached this morning for our Easter Sunrise Service.

Perplexed, Dazzled, Terrified, Dismissive and Amazed
Luke 24:1-12

Grace and Peace to you this morning. Grace and Peace.

The first responses of the witnesses to the resurrection were not faith and rejoicing and celebration. They did not put on their Sabbath finest, show up with their Easter bonnets, shout “Woo Hoo!”

The first witnesses were perplexed, dazzled, terrified, dismissive and amazed.

The women with the spices, coming in that strange mix of obedience and grief, were perplexed by the stone being rolled away.

When the angels show up, they are dazzled by the brightness of their shining and they are terrified.

When they tell the other disciples what they have seen and heard, the disciples are dismissive – it can’t be true, can it?

And when Peter goes to see for himself, he is amazed.

Maybe we grew up with this story, hearing it at home and in Sunday School and in church. Maybe it has lost some of its power to dazzle and terrify us.

Or maybe we are more recently come to trust the resurrection of Jesus, but we are still perplexed.

Maybe we have seen healing that we can’t explain any other way, or experienced the lifting of our fear, the resolution of our conflicts, the new life that does not fit anything other than the grace of God.

It can be terrifying when we start to know we are not the ones in control.

Or maybe we have grown so used to the ways of the world, we are dismissive of the possibility of resurrection.

I used to think I knew how to pray.

I have prayed in church and at home, in hospitals and hospices, on street corners and in fire stations, in auditoriums and at a traveling copy of the Vietnam Memorial.

I have prayed with people who just lost a loved one, and with people who have just had a baby.

I have prayed alone, with one other person, in a small group, in front of tens and hundreds (I don’t think I have reached thousands yet…).

I have prayed prayers from centuries ago.
I have prayed prayers I have written, my teachers have written, my mentors have written.
I have prayed out of prayer books and off the top of my head.
I have prayed the “thou hast’s” and I have prayed the “just wanna’s.”
But last Monday, I discovered that I don’t know how to pray.

Last Monday, Mary and I had an Easter moment. After years of trying, after shots and surgeries and drugs and procedures and the great roller coaster, we looked on the monitor of an ultrasound machine and saw something that the doctor explained to us was about the size of a grain of rice, except that this little bitty thing had a heartbeat.

And I discovered I didn’t know how to pray.

I was perplexed. You see, I am a control freak. (This should come as no surprise to anyone here!) And suddenly, I realized that we were pregnant. Which means that any illusions I might have that I am in control are swiftly flying out the window.

I was dazzled. I was not ready for how amazing that moment would be.

I was (and am) terrified. I see messed up families all the time. I know my own failings and foibles. I also know that however much I want to control the world, I will not be able to make it all safe, to make it all better for this child. I will mess it up. And the world is pretty messed up, too.

I was dismissive. I had gotten so used to the roller coaster of trying and it not working, of going through the procedures, of giving shots, that I had hardened my heart against the possibility of this actually working. It was a defensive mechanism to keep me from crashing again.

And finally, I am amazed. I can quote you scripture about healing and resurrection; I can tell you stories of people whose lives are turned around, who find hope, who experience grace and forgiveness; I can walk you through the questions we ask at times such as this.

But this is different.

I can even tell you of times I have felt God’s presence, known new life, been forgiven and able to forgive, experienced resurrection.

But this is different.

No I am not ready for it. (Probably nobody is…small comfort that that thought brings.)

Yes, I know that even as I tell my story there are others who have been here before. I know that there are others on this particular roller coaster still, still stuck on Friday, not yet hearing good news.

I can’t dismiss them. I have been one of them.

Nor am I ready to proclaim that I have faith all figured out. Some days I am doing well just to get through the day.

But I am in good company. I am not the first to be perplexed, dazzled, terrified, dismissive and amazed at a resurrection.

I can add my voice in a new way to these witnesses of God’s goodness, of the hope the Gospel brings, to resurrection.

And in all my perplexity, bedazzlement, terror, dismissal and amazement at the prospect of being a dad, I am learning I need to pray a whole lot harder than I have been.

For me and Mary. For this child who is here but not yet here. For all those who know the power of the resurrection. And for all those who are still stuck on Friday or Saturday, still waiting, still hoping.

For these I am learning to pray. And I am also learning a new way of proclaiming:

Christ is Risen!
Christ is Risen indeed!
Thanks be to God!
Amen.