Should it be Two?

Don't fret. I'm not pregnant.

But we have been talking about the possibility of a second child. We have one boy who is about to turn two, and we are in disbelief. The past two years have flown by, though the days have been and can be very long. I'm not a fan of the newborn days, but it seems to keep getting better.

I want to be emotionally, physically, and financially ready.

Before we had Charlie, I told J I needed the security of having our own house. We lived in a town home and still didn't conceive for that reason. I wanted our own home, and I also told him we both needed steady jobs. We waited until we had all of these things, and we even worked a couple of years to make sure the jobs were set. Having Charlie after all of that made it feel right. I also felt much more at ease.

Now I feel like I have to say, "when I get in shape again..." or "when our car payment is over..." or "when we pay off some debt." The truth is, yes, these things will help, but will they ever be fully finished? Even if we pay off the car, the other might break down, and there we go again. Although we will pay off some debt, we will accrue more, via either a lawn mower, a car repair, or health-care costs.

Either way, it seems like we're stuck. Teachers don't really get "raises," sadly, so the only hope for more money is if the state and government approves a tiny increase in salary, which would basically just cover increased health costs.

So, the question remains: are we going to have another child? If so, when? Should we wait until Charlie is three? Four? Going into elementary school? If we wait, will we want to start all over with the baby stage?

I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Prone to Wander, Lord I Feel it...

I ordered a Bible yesterday.

It's been a while.

Years.

- - - - - - 

My childhood consisted of attending church on Sundays, praying every night, praying before meals, and going to youth group with friends. I was even part of Awanas.

I'm not sure where it all changed. 

I got sick of church. I got sick of the people. I got sick of the guilt. I got sick of the schedule. I got sick of the hypocrisy (me included). I slowly separated myself from the idea of church, but I still sang in worship team whenever possible, which was the time I was the most involved in praising God, praying, and reflecting. Thank goodness for worship team.

The time I realized I needed God again was about two years ago. I broke down crying on the way home from worship team one day while pregnant. My grandmother was very ill, and my friend and coworker was dying of pancreatic cancer. I felt so incredibly alone in the sadness and fear. I felt guilt for the depression. I needed something more than my house, my husband, and even the sweet child I was growing. I did feel comfort in Charlie most times, but I realized I needed God to hold me up. I just couldn't do it. After we had the baby, life was very busy and exhausting. It was also very beautiful--overwhelmingly so. We missed a lot of church, due to distraction and lack of energy, and I think I just slipped out of the rhythm. I kept going to worship team and singing when possible, but my world was revolving around my new baby. I knew he was a gift from God, but I was still focusing more on him than on The Giver of Life.

I've always been a Christian, and I've always been thankful in good times and even thankful for dark times. There is always something I've learned. Something happened, though, and I don't know what it was, or when it was, but it just made me think God wasn't as important as he inevitably is. It was mostly witnessing hypocrisy (which is ironic) and losing faith in the people of God, as well as my own heart.

I'm still not a huge fan of the structure of organized religion, and I am not the type to feel extreme guilt if I miss a Sunday service. I'm no conservative, I'm not one to preach, and I'm very private in my worship. I don't push religion on anyone, and I don't expect anyone to believe what I do. Although it's not a popular idea, I do respect all religions and beliefs. I wouldn't want them to push on me, so I don't push on them. I realize, though, how important it is for me to have God in my heart and people of Christ around me. 

At my new job this year, I had a really rough first semester. I was talking to my colleague about it one day, and she said, without knowing me well, "I don't know if you believe in a higher being, but sometimes you just need to realize it is out of your hands. Give it to God." I didn't even know this kind friend, but I felt the compassion. I knew that she was there for me, and we were in it together. Although we're in it together, we both have to turn to God.

We are going to a new church now, which is heart-wrenching, since I left behind an incredible worship team family, but I do find that I'm having time for reflection in praise instead of being in front of people, making sure to get the harmony just right. 

Last week, I heard these lyrics, from a very familiar song, but these lyrics that I have seen for years suddenly meant something dear to me:

Come thou fount of every blessing

Tune my heart to sing Thy grace

Streams of mercy never ceasing

Call for songs of loudest praise

Teach me some melodious sonnet

Sung by flaming tongues above

Praise the Mount I'm fixed upon it

Mount of Thy redeeming love

Here I raise my Ebenezer

Hither by Thy great help I come

And I hope by Thy good pleasure

Safely to arrive at home

Jesus, sought me when a stranger

Wandering from the fold of God

He, to rescue me from danger

Interposed His precious blood

Ode to grace, how great a debtor

Daily I'm constrained to be

And let Thy goodness like a fetter

Bind my wandering heart to Thee

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it

Prone to leave the God I love

Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it

Seal it for Thy courts above

Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it

Seal it for Thy courts above

The chorus is what really got me. I'm extremely "prone to wander," and with the new job, new house, new friends, and new situation, I realized how lonely I was and how far I had shifted off the path. I also realized how preoccupied with my own life I was--and still can and will be. I need God. I need His peace. I need His presence. I need His forgiveness and grace. 

So, I ordered a Bible yesterday. 

A soft, leather Bible.

It's been a while.

Years.

Croup

Charlie can have anything he wants today, as far as I'm concerned. Croup is a terrible, quick sickness, and when he was struggling to breathe Friday night (it's now Monday), we didn't know what was wrong, and we called the ambulance. He is okay now, though it will be a long few days, I'm sure. Friday started off so well, and our friends L and J came to visit, but about thirty minutes after they were gone, I heard a weird noise on the monitor. Then we heard it again...and again. I started to panic because I knew it wasn't normal, and it sounded like he was struggling to breathe. Justin went in to get him while I grabbed my phone. As J held him, Charlie was out of it from the sudden activity, but he was also not getting one normal breath. It was terrifying. After he continued to struggle, I asked J if I should call 911. At that point, we knew we would rather call than risk waiting to see what happened. The 911 operator walked me through everything. The part that really scared me was when she said to tell her if he "loses consciousness" or "loses color" so she could walk me through the steps for CPR. Holy cow.

The ambulance arrived, and I decided it was best that Justin ride with him. I knew I would be emotional, and sitting in an ambulance definitely wouldn't help. I drove in our Camry behind them while talking to D. At that point, I realized I didn't get to say goodbye, and I watched him leave my site struggling to breathe. I started almost hyperventilating (the closest thing to it in my life) and crying. It was absolutely terrifying.

At the hospital, I walked into the ER and told them I was there for my son. What's crazy is I had to wait about ten minutes while they go him in a room. I had to just stop thinking at that point and stay calm. I feel pretty proud of myself for just sitting there in such a scary situation. I finally got to see him, and they had already helped by giving him medication. They gave him steroids and a nebulizer to help him breathe. Thankfully, after just two hours or so, we were heading home. He handled the hospital really well, from what I gathered. He only got upset a few times, which was heartbreaking, but overall, he was giggling and playing with whatever creative toy we could find or make. At one point, I put something in my sunglasses case, and something inside of that, so he had to open two different things to find stuff. That lasted a good thirty minutes, thankfully. We got home after midnight, and thanks to God, he went right to sleep...and slept until 7:30 a.m., to our amazement. We were so thankful.

This is what was eye-opening for me: the first person who walked in our home after arriving in the ambulance was a teacher I worked with in Madison. I knew she was an EMT, but I never thought about it much. Here she was, in my home, on a Friday night, after teaching high school all week. Here she was, devoting her time as a volunteer to help anyone who needed help, no matter what the circumstance.

Here I was, panicking, watching my kid struggle to breathe, and I was immediately calmed seeing her walk in.

There are a few things I take away from this:

1. EMTs are incredible, selfless people. The two others who came were kind, helpful, soothing people. They made sure I was okay to drive, and they talked us through everything.

2. Teachers who are EMTs must be special gifts sent from God, because I know I can't do a second job on a Friday night--especially one involving saving people's lives.

3. We are all in this together. We may not know our coworkers very well, but when there is someone in need, I have seen people at my job stop everything to help--in both counties. It's all about this deep, natural, inner lining called love. In this case, it was her job, but she was there to be a support. Thank you AH for being my friend in a moment of fear and panic.

4. This was a situation of croup, but there are parents bringing their young children to the hospital for much more serious reasons. When we see an ambulance, we should all stop to send some good or pray for whomever it is. We never know who is in there and why. We don't know if it's an elderly person or a newborn baby.
5. Kids are resilient. Even though it was hours past his normal bedtime (6 pm), and he was in a strange place with strange people, Charlie handled it really well. I don't say this because I'm trying to suggest he's some outstanding toddler. But I noticed that he was fine with seeing the best in what was around him. He wasn't crying and panicking. He went to bed when he could. He rode in an ambulance and didn't scream the entire way. Basically, this event isn't going to scar him for life, which is how I felt in the moment. It's amazing how much kids can get through without being dragged down

December 14

Nine years ago, it was freezing, we were in college, and Justin and I had our first kiss in my parents' driveway. Now, we find ourselves back at my parents' house (while our house is almost done being built), during an unseasonably warm fall. We took a walk tonight and happened to see a shooting star. Then another! Turns out, it was, and is, a meteor shower, and we saw twelve beautiful paint strokes. It is so nice how we were able to just lie down in the absolute silence to take in the night. Nine years ago, we were standing in the driveway, wishing we didn't have to separate for the night, staying warm in our winter hats, knowing we would get married one day. Now, we're married with a toddler in tow, together always, and still able to watch the stars. Life works itself out in such beautiful ways; even when surrounded with sadness and terror, and even if we have to bring the baby monitor out with us, we can enjoy the peace of the sky we all share. It really is beautiful.