Year: 2012

Baby Katie Beth

Last week a couple at our church gave birth to a precious little girl. Unbeknownst to them prior to her birth, she has a rare syndrome called Zellweger syndrome (or possibly another similar condition, tests are still being run). In either case, the prognosis is not good and she has been given between 6 months and 2 years to live. We have only spent one evening with this couple, but we have heard many praises sung about their character through mutual friends at church.

The reason I wanted to blog about this is two-fold. One, I’d like to ask all you who follow our blog to please take a minute right now and pray for them and their daughter, Katie Beth. Here is a picture of her (isn’t she so cute!? Look at all that hair!)

Secondly, (though we have yet to become better acquainted), I honestly haven’t been able to stop thinking about this couple since their little girl was born. This is partly because my heart has been aching for them and the pain they are surely enduring, and partly because, as we have been following their updates, God has really been doing a work in my heart through their response to the situation. I have been incredibly inspired by them and personally convicted as a result. Here are a few things they have written that have hit me like a ton of bricks:

-“[6 months to 2 years is] not as much time as we had hoped to have with our daughter, but we’re thankful for the time we have.”
-“On the way home we talked about how happy we were to be doing this together. There isn’t anybody else I’d rather be doing this with…we thought of couples we’ve seen pass through our community that might not be able to handle this type of stress in their life. But we’ve been in training for five years now, and, at least so far, our spirits are strong and we’re as in love as ever. God works in mysterious ways I guess.”
-“Your prayers are working, and we’ve been blessed to see God working such miracles firsthand.”
-“We continue to have hope that, no matter what happens, we can raise her up in the way that is right as an act of worship to God whom we thank for the wonderful opportunity to care for one of his children.”

Do these words convict your heart like they’ve convicted mine? Put in their situation, would you have a similar God-centered and positive outlook? As I read those words and spend time thinking about this family, God continually brings to mind all the absolutely ridiculous and comparably inconsequential things I complain about. Watching this family deal with such a difficult and devastating situation with such love and thankful hearts, has swiftly knocked me upside the head and put things into perspective for me. It reminds me of the verse in 1 Corinthians 1:27b that says: “God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.”

Their clarity of mind and big-picture perspective in the face of such unexpected adversity moves me. I only pray that if I ever experience anything like this that I would have a similarly joyous heart. What a wonderful example of a couple who trusts the Lord and His plan so fully, and is truly living out 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 “be joyous always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” This is not to say they aren’t grieving and experiencing pain (I’m sure they are), but I believe they are able to remain uplifted because they are grounded in their relationship with Christ and ultimately know their lives rest safely in God’s hands.

I’ll leave you with this prayer that has been on my heart:

Jesus, I pray that you would love on this family right now. I pray for healing and nothing short of a miracle for Katie Beth. Continue to give this family so much peace, hope, and joy. In times of sadness, let them know and experience your intense and passionate Fatherly love. Give them the strength to love little Katie Beth with such fervor. You have paired this couple with this precious little girl for a reason, and I pray that you would continue to use this family to bring glory to Yourself.

Jesus, please give me an ever-increasing heart of gratitude. Help me to maintain an eternal perspective and help me to remember to praise Your name in all circumstances. More than anything, thank you for loving me so much that you would send your son to die on my behalf. I am humbled and in awe of your never-ending and unconditional love.

[An update to this post was published on November 22, 2012. Click here to read it.]

10 Ways Pregnancy Crushed Melissa’s Dignity: Part 6 – Crazy Hormones

If you haven’t yet read the intro to this series, you should do so before reading on for some context.

Just in case you forgot that I (Sean) was somehow involved in the whole baby-making process, Melissa and I thought it would be interesting for me to weigh in on her pregnancy from my perspective.

I think we can all agree that hormones are a potent and terrifying force in the human body. Just think back to that horribly awkward phase in middle school when your acne was so substantial that your pimples were producing prolific sub-pimple populations of their own. Poor Melissa, when she became pregnant it was like hitting puberty for the second time. Just a couple weeks into the pregnancy and BOOM, her entire body looked like a pepperoni pizza. Actually, I think it was even worse than puberty…I mean, she was getting zits in places I didn’t even know you could get zits. Sadly, Melissa was so sick during her pregnancy I think the only thing that ever “glowed” were her pimples. Typically Melissa doesn’t get many pimples (previously she had only had like 3 non-face zits in her whole life), so you can imagine why it was a shock to her system and a little dignity crushing.

Moreover, Melissa has a young-looking face and oftentimes gets mistaken for a teenager. Aside from the fact that pimples are just irritating, they further indicated to strangers walking by that she was, in fact, 16-years-old. We kept wondering why we were getting so many condescending “raised eyebrow” stares at the mall one day, when we finally realized that Melissa’s already young-looking face coupled with the army of pimples made us look like the “impregnated teen by creepy older man” scenario.

The specific hormone associated with pregnancy is called “hCG,” and in the first 10 weeks after becoming pregnant, the amount of hCG in a woman’s body will double every two days. In other words, there was over 10 BILLION times more hCG in Melissa’s body after just ten weeks of pregnancy. In my mind that was a perfectly good excuse for any and all irrational behavior exhibited by my wife…and there was a lot to choose from.

Under normal circumstances, I cry much more often than Melissa. In fact, I think know I cried at the end of Terminator 2 when Ah-nold destroyed himself in molten iron and sacrificed his own life to save humans from the threat of an evil robot takeover in the future. So you can imagine my surprise when Melissa began crying more often than myself…and the sources of her tears much less meaningful (if this is possible), than a robot laying down his life for his friends.

Have you seen all those “first response” pregnancy test advertisements? I could have saved the 20 bucks because I knew she was pregnant three days before she peed on that “first response” stick. What gave it away? She was sobbing in the shower with absolutely no explanation as to why she was crying. I’ve heard girls sometimes cry for no reason, but this was a first in our relationship. A few weeks later, I walked into our bedroom to find Melissa lying face down on the bed, her tears soaking the bedspread as she sobbed. Concerned, I rushed over and exclaimed “what is wrong!?” Her reply was something to the effect of: “when I was walking to the grocery store, my legs got itchy…and now I’m really tired and sad.” Now Melissa prides herself on the fact that she is not typically subject to mood swings, irritability, and emotional overreaction, so there was certainly a loss of dignity when she felt her emotions were spiraling out of control.

While “irrational emotionalism” is a well-known side effect of hormonal changes, I would like to point out a much less documented, yet no less mind-boggling effect which I have labeled “obsessive indecisiveness.” If a decision relating to the baby needed to be made, regardless of how small or inconsequential, there was suddenly a minimum of 20 hours that would be devoted to research, deliberation, and agonizing comparisons before a conclusion could be made. That ended phase 1. Phase 2 commenced with changing our minds, then compiling 100 hours worth of additional data to justify the change. I think phase 3 was crying, accompanied by an argument about why the decision was taking so long. Finally, in phase 4, we would re-change our minds back to the original decision to go with the jungle-themed jumper, rather than the forest-themed jumper. Oh, and when I say change “our” minds…I really mean that one mind was changing, and the other mind was shooting itself in the face.

This pattern was manifest most notably in the process of registering for gifts. We registered on Amazon.com, which is a wonderful site. The only problem is that the vast wealth of product information and incredible variety of choices can create a hormone-induced feeding frenzy for the obsessive-indecisive mind. For most products on amazon, I am impressed if there are more than 100 customer reviews, but there is actually a baby toy on amazon with over 1,700 opinions. It is a rubber giraffe that squeaks. That’s it. This is how I know that obsessive-indecisive disorder is real, and it affects millions of pregnant women every year. Your loved ones may be suffering from this condition if they make comments like: “I think the extra $2500 is worth it for the organic crib sheets. After all, the cotton was grown in the Himalayan mountains with classical music playing in the background. And it is SIDS-resistant. And it is so much softer. And it will smell better. And it will make our child smarter. And ultimately, without it, our baby will surely die…”

Melissa said in another post that her pregnancy was a very long 9 months…it was a very long 9 months indeed. Who do you think was her 24-7 therapist and personal janitor for all those messes she’s been writing about?

The other 9 ways pregnancy crushed my dignity:

Part 1 – Constipation
Parts 2 & 3 – Appetite and Weight Gain
Part 4 – Mourning Sickness
Part 5 – Incontinence
Parts 7, 8, & 9 – Pain, Pain, Pain
Part 10, the Pinnacle – Diarrhomit

Also, read about Caleb’s birth:

Caleb’s Birth Story: Rated PG-13 for Language, Nudity, and Drugs 🙂

And here’s the adventures we had after Caleb’s birth:

Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Hospital (Part 1)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Neighbs (Part 2)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Breastfeeding Blues (Part 3)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Body Slammed (Part 4)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Am I an Incompetent Parent (Part 5)

Why 9 Months of Torture Was Worth It

Sean is currently working on writing part 6 of the pregnancy series (oohhh, spoiler alert!), so in the interim I decided to give our blog a massive makeover to make it more user friendly and easier to read…hope you like the changes! I’m still working on a few things, so if you have any suggestions as to how to make it better or if there is anything you would like to see on our blog, I’d appreciate the feedback!

I also thought it would be encouraging to make a mid-series post giving a glimpse to all you ladies who now fear pregnancy like it’s global warming why it is all worth it and why I would even do it again. It’s moments like these that bring so much joy to my heart and make me love this little munchkin that much more (if that’s even possible!) Who knew retractable badges could be that hilarious!? We cropped the video but he did this for almost 5 minutes!

Caleb’s Nursery – Our First Completed Room/Project in our New Home…go us!

5 months after moving into our house and 9 months after Caleb was born, we finally have a finished nursery! All you pregnant mamas who are stressing over finishing your nursery can now rest assured knowing there are others (namely me) who are far tardier than you – ha!

This is what the room (blindingly) looked like before moving in:

After much deliberation, Caleb decided glossy hot pink was not quite his color…so 3 coats of primer and 2 coats of paint later, here’s what it looks like now:

Sean even installed recessed lighting…I knew there would eventually be a payoff for marrying a nerdy engineer 😉

10 Ways Pregnancy Crushed My Dignity: Part 5 – Incontinence

If you haven’t yet read the intro to this series, you should do so before reading on for some context.

As almost any pregnant lady can confirm, you pee absurdly often when you are pregnant. Before I became pregnant, I prided myself on my ability to hold my bladder for ridiculously long periods of time (which, by the way, I can no longer do after giving birth to a baby). However, while pregnant (and particularly near the end), I couldn’t go more than 1-1.5 hours without making a trip to see my friend Loo (even during my so-called “sleeping” hours). This is entirely normal and I know every pregnant woman reading this post right now is sighing and nodding in agreement (and probably just took a bathroom break before continuing on to the second paragraph).

Not only do you have to pee frequently while pregnant, you also lose some bladder control as well. Here’s how this plays out: You laugh…there goes a few drops of pee. You cough…there goes a few drops of pee. You sneeze…there goes a few drops of pee. You stand up…there goes a few drops of pee. You just hope all four don’t happen in succession…there is a reason people joke about pregnant women using Depends. Again, an entirely normal and common experience shared by most pregnant women.

The reality of frequent urination and loss of bladder control were mere annoyances for most my pregnancy, until I got tag teamed. What do you get when you combine a small bladder, incontinence, and a dash (or five) of nausea? Let me tell you:

When I was five months pregnant, I decided to visit a few friends from college who lived 45 minutes away. Apparently I had already forgotten all about my previous long distance visit to my mom, and the result of that. I wasn’t feeling well that day as usual, but was becoming so frustrated with the reality of being home bound that I was determined to get out and go do something. Sean knew I wasn’t feeling well, so he insisted on driving me. I did ok on the drive there, but as Sean picked me up on our way back home, I knew it would not be a good trip. Within the first five minutes, I was an 11 on my nausea scale. (The scale ranges from 1-5). However, I didn’t want to pull over because it was late, I was tired, and I just wanted to get home (sound familiar??) Fortunately, with zero talking and 100% concentration, we made it home without having a repeat barf-all-over-the-car situation.

Sean pulled into our carport, and I immediately jumped out before the car had even stopped and began walking briskly towards our apartment to meet up with my bestie Loo. About halfway there, it became painfully clear I had absolutely no chance of making it. Mid-stride, up came my dinner, and with impeccable aim splashed all over my pants and shoes. Now if this is where the story ended, it wouldn’t have been so bad. But oh no, little grapefruit-sized Caleb had decided to take it up a notch this time. As my body cruelly purged my entire dinner from earlier that night, it forcefully pushed something else out as well – an entire full bladder of urine. No, none of this “few drops” business…the whole topped off tank. So there I was, standing in our apartment complex’s carport drenched in my own vomit and urine. Head hung in defeat, I stared down at the damage and paused for several moments. I remember slowly shaking my head and thinking: “wow. just…wow. Here I am a full-blown adult, standing on a public street, drenched in my worst…A-mazing. I really don’t think it can get much better than this.” At that point, Sean had caught up to me after finishing parking the car, and I slowly turned to him and profoundly announced in my best Forest Gump voice (not sure why) – “Sean…I peed my pants.” To which he replied: “yes…I can see that.” I turned back around towards our apartment, feet turned out, slightly squatting, and snickered as I waddled slowly the rest of the way home.

I sincerely wish I could tell you that this incident was the absolute pinnacle of my worst dignity-crushing pregnancy experiences, but alas (huge sigh), it is not.

The other 9 ways pregnancy crushed my dignity:

Part 1 – Constipation
Parts 2 & 3 – Appetite and Weight Gain
Part 4 – Mourning Sickness
Part 6 – Crazy Hormones
Parts 7, 8, & 9 – Pain, Pain, Pain
Part 10, the Pinnacle – Diarrhomit

Also, read about Caleb’s birth:

Caleb’s Birth Story: Rated PG-13 for Language, Nudity, and Drugs 🙂

And here’s the adventures we had after Caleb’s birth:

Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Hospital (Part 1)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Neighbs (Part 2)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Breastfeeding Blues (Part 3)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Body Slammed (Part 4)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Am I an Incompetent Parent (Part 5)

10 Ways Pregnancy Crushed My Dignity: Part 4 – Mourning Sickness

If you haven’t yet read the intro to this series, you should do so before reading on for some context.

No, I did not misspell “morning” sickness – I just think the word mourning is a much more appropriate term after vomiting well over 50 times while pregnant. “Mourning” also fits much better because there is nothing exclusively “morning” about morning sickness. I was nauseous in the morning, afternoon, evening, wee hours of the night, and everything in between.

When we discovered I was pregnant, we wanted to announce the news in a creative way as most people like to do. As we generated ideas, Sean entertained the thought of telling people the following:

“Dear friends and family – As many of you know, Melissa has been feeling very sick lately. We went to the doctor last week and they ran some tests. A small growth was discovered in her abdomen and the Dr. believes it is rapidly increasing in size. It is probable that in the next several months, it will grow to be several pounds. It doesn’t need to be removed yet, but will need to be removed in the next 7.5 months or it could become very dangerous to her health. Please pray for us, because this growth is sapping her energy, stealing her best nutrients, making her vomit all the time, causing her to be emotionally unstable, and will completely drain our savings account as time goes on. In other words…we’re pregnant!”

We ultimately decided that kind of announcement was just mean, but throughout my pregnancy, Caleb truly had disturbing similarities to a parasite. After all, the definition of parasite is “an animal or plant that lives in or on another (the host) from which it obtains nourishment. The host is often harmed by it.” Yep, sounds about right.

Most women’s nausea/morning sickness wears off by the second trimester (fortunately), but mine lasted throughout the entire pregnancy…I was still vomiting the week Caleb was born. By the tenth week of my pregnancy, I had thrown up so many times I lost count. Early on, I was quite familiar with “vomiting marathons” as I liked to call them, in which I found myself barfing with almost no breaks in between. These marathons would typically leave my body extremely sore, because apparently upchucking uses every…last…muscle in your body – who knew?? During one such marathon, I actually threw my back out and could barely move because I had heaved so violently and so many times in one night. In fact, at the peak of the marathon insanity, I vomited eight times, yes – eight times, in less than four hours. I had had enough. At this point I was so dehydrated and weak that Sean considered taking me to the hospital. I called my Dr., and she immediately prescribed medication which I then took multiple times a day for the rest of my pregnancy (it was mind-blowingly helpful in ending the vomiting marathons, but still didn’t completely take away the nausea/end the vomiting). I really would have preferred to avoid medication like that, but reasoned it would have most likely been more harmful to Caleb if I had died of starvation/dehydration, ha!

I am trying to keep these blogs funny and light, but here’s where I’ll just be blunt – it was an exceptionally challenging season of life for me. I was scared to go out anywhere, for fear that I would just lose it and barf all over myself, other people, store floors, the car, etc. This fear led me to a life of severe isolation for nine months and made for an incredibly awful experience (there were times I didn’t even leave our apartment for five days straight). Even as I write and reflect back on this season of life now, tears come to my eyes because it was so miserable and depressing.

Fortunately, Cru allowed me to do a lot of work from home and my bosses were super flexible with me and my situation (though I was saddened I couldn’t do more hands-on ministry with the students). However, other normal, basic activities became a daily struggle. I couldn’t get through a shower without nearly losing my latest meal (for whatever reason, taking a shower always brought me to the point of incessant dry heaving…luckily I was always able to get out before it was too late). I couldn’t drive without getting queasy. I couldn’t be around people who wore perfume or used strong laundry detergent (I even had to switch out my own shampoo/conditioner for ones that had a less potent smell). It was difficult to go to other people’s homes/go to the store because I couldn’t handle new, different, and/or powerful smells. The few times I went shopping, I had to hold my breath as much as possible – every time I went to Target I was so embarrassed because I couldn’t keep myself from dry heaving every few minutes (garnering plenty of amused stares!) I couldn’t exercise or clean because both required more movement than my stomach could handle. I couldn’t cook because of the smell. I couldn’t even take “normal” medicine – I had to take a dissolving kind because I would immediately throw up anything needing to be swallowed with water. It was truly an ironic situation; in the course of growing a baby, I felt as useless and helpless as a baby myself. I was forced to rely on Sean (and others) in more ways than I ever had before – it was quite the humbling experience.

Ok, enough of the depressing talk…back to a story we can laugh about now. As you can imagine, the toilet was my best friend throughout my pregnancy. Between blowing chunks, constipation, and peeing constantly, I swear I saw more of the toilet than I saw of Sean. Unfortunately, I wasn’t always so lucky to have my good buddy by my side. Earlier on in my pregnancy (before I knew that driving more than 10 minutes in the car was a high-risk endeavor), Sean and I decided to visit my mom who lived 45 minutes south of us. The entire visit I felt nauseous and terrible, but that had become the norm for me. I became thirsty while there, and helped myself to a lemonade. Mistake #1. It came time to drive home, and as soon as we got on the freeway, that all-too-familiar feeling came over me, but I thought to myself: “I am tired and just want to get home…I can hold it back.” Mistake #2. Cognizant of how often I was vomiting, I had intended to grab some barf bags from my mom’s house before we left. However, as I was desperately holding the barf back, it dawned on me that I had left them on the kitchen table. Mistake #3.

As that horrifying realization swept over me, so did an ample amount of puke…all over the center console, myself, the seat, and the floor. Here’s where mistake #1 comes in – citrus drinks are simply not as good on the way out as they are on the way in…just so you know. My nose was on fire, my throat was on fire, and Sean could barely drive because the sounds and smells were causing him to retch himself. We rolled down the windows and for the next 40 minutes until we got home, Sean and I held our breath hoping neither would lose it and vomit again due to the putrid smell. I was hoping to remain somewhat attractive to my husband during pregnancy, but after marinating in my own throw up for 40 minutes with Sean by my side, I just let that hope die. By the time we pulled up to our apartment, I had the all-too-familiar urge again, and Sean didn’t even have time to park. I jumped out of the car, ran up the stairs to our apartment, and was never more relieved to see my best friend Loo waiting there for me 🙂

The other 9 ways pregnancy crushed my dignity:

Part 1 – Constipation
Parts 2 & 3 – Appetite and Weight Gain
Part 5 – Incontinence
Part 6 – Crazy Hormones
Parts 7, 8, & 9 – Pain, Pain, Pain
Part 10, the Pinnacle – Diarrhomit

Also, read about Caleb’s birth:

Caleb’s Birth Story: Rated PG-13 for Language, Nudity, and Drugs 🙂

And here’s the adventures we had after Caleb’s birth:

Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Hospital (Part 1)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Neighbs (Part 2)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Breastfeeding Blues (Part 3)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Body Slammed (Part 4)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Am I an Incompetent Parent (Part 5)

10 Ways Pregnancy Crushed My Dignity: Parts 2 & 3 – Appetite and Weight Gain

If you haven’t yet read the intro to this series, you should do so before reading on for some context.

Before continuing, I’d like to reemphasize that my pregnancy was particularly difficult. Every woman’s pregnancy is different; I am just sharing my personal experience. I thought I’d reiterate that point because my mom read my first two posts and is fearful that by my 10th post, all procreation will cease and the human race will die out 🙂 Moving along…

2. Appetite. Most people have heard the stereotype of pregnant women craving pickles in their ice cream. While it’s true some women crave strange combinations, my experience was a complete loss of appetite altogether during the first half of pregnancy – I actually lost weight during my first trimester. Even the smell of most foods/perfumes was enough to get me gagging. Poor Sean, the only food we ate for four months was muffins, pop ’ems, mac ‘n cheese, soup, and rice – a most random combination! I am seriously not exaggerating; we literally rotated between these five items and Sean couldn’t eat much else because I could not stand the smell. This one wasn’t as much a dignity crusher as just straight up frustrating and a little depressing :/

My appetite got better after the first four months (although I continued to experience severe nausea). At that point, I had an onset of very specific, intense cravings that required immediate satisfaction by sending Sean out on midnight runs to the grocery store (which was conveniently located across the street). On one such occasion, I became insatiably thirsty and craved milk. Sean knew the drill and fetched a gallon of milk – and I kid you not – I drank more than 3/4 of it in a matter of a few hours…it was truly remarkable. Other midnight runs included: hot cheetoes, cheese popcorn, funyuns, blueberry bagels/cream cheese, and cake batter ice cream. Obviously eating nutritious food was of top priority to me during my pregnancy. Oh and Sean very kindly gained some sympathy pounds for me…what a sacrificial husband 🙂 Which leads me right into the next subject…

3. Weight gain. Some of the worst (and most common) advice I received while pregnant was: “you should eat whatever you want, you deserve it!” Unfortunately, I took this advice to heart and at each meal/snacking session I emphatically thought to myself: “girl, you are awesome, you’ve earned this!” One particular night I felt especially fond of this deceitful slogan, and by the end of a two-hour TV show, I was appalled to realize I had just consumed an entire bag of funyuns, half a box of cheez-its, a pint of ice cream, three see’s candies, and a snickers. Even Takeru Kobayashi would have been impressed.

The lack of appetite during my first half of pregnancy had limited my weight gain, but let’s just say I more than made up for it during the second half. I had practically been starving the first half, so when I finally got my appetite back, my food intake rivaled that of Michael Phelps and his 12,000 calorie diet. I began eating in this manner partly because I had been deprived of most foods for four months, but also because my body was not responding well to being pregnant, and the reality of feeling like absolute crap 24-7 was leaving me depressed. So with habits like those mentioned in the previous paragraph, I averaged close to 10 lbs. per month (for a total of 45 lbs.)! When I went in for check-ups, my doctor didn’t seem concerned, so I continued to live it up.

What a mistake! News flash – you really don’t need that many extra calories for the baby while pregnant, and the extra weight doesn’t magically disappear once you give birth. You may think this is obvious (I should have too), but one of my less intelligent moments in life occurred six weeks after giving birth at my follow-up Dr.’s appointment. After facing the scale and feeling less than pleased with the result, I asked my doctor in all seriousness: “so, have I already lost all the pregnancy-specific weight I’m going to lose (extra fluids, blood volume, etc.)? like, is that really it??” She of course said yes, and I followed that up with my next brilliant question: “so you mean…I’m actually going to have to work to lose the rest of it???” She looked at me a little funny, again said yes, and I sat there frantically adding numbers in my head with the result leaving me slightly pale – haha! Luckily I’ve been able to lose all the weight (plus some due to nursing), but it took me four months of an agonizingly strict diet and exercise to accomplish. During my next pregnancy (Lord willing), I will most certainly eat very differently!

Even so, I promise you will never catch me in a two-piece bathing suit ever again. Bless his heart, my husband tries to convince me that the plethora of stretch marks I have acquired look like cool fire tattoos on my stomach, (legs, butt, name your body part), but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to adopt that perspective. The best I can do is consider them well-earned battle scars 🙂 For the record though, I definitely would have developed stretch marks whether I had gained 20 or 60 lbs…it’s just another fun/typical side effect of pregnancy!

Other unfortunate aspects of gaining so much weight during pregnancy included finding myself at Kohl’s twice a week searching for the next clothing size up – even the stretchy maternity clothes were no match for my impressive weight gain marathon. Additionally, each time I asked Sean to help me put on/tie my shoes or hand me my drink while immobilized on my corner of the couch (while ironically watching episodes of the Biggest Loser), my pride was squashed just a little…bit…more.

These two challenges were not of the same “dignity crushing” magnitude as most the others, but I thought I’d give you a break after the last post about constipation 😉

The other 9 ways pregnancy crushed my dignity:

Part 1 – Constipation
Part 4 – Mourning Sickness
Part 5 – Incontinence
Part 6 – Crazy Hormones
Parts 7, 8, & 9 – Pain, Pain, Pain
Part 10, the Pinnacle – Diarrhomit

Also, read about Caleb’s birth:

Caleb’s Birth Story: Rated PG-13 for Language, Nudity, and Drugs 🙂

And here’s the adventures we had after Caleb’s birth:

Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Hospital (Part 1)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Neighbs (Part 2)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Breastfeeding Blues (Part 3)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Body Slammed (Part 4)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Am I an Incompetent Parent (Part 5)

10 Ways Pregnancy Crushed My Dignity: Part 1 – Constipation

If you haven’t yet read the intro to this series, you should do so first before reading on for some context.

Constipation is one of those less talked about, lovely side effects of pregnancy. Due to loss of appetite and nausea, I was very limited on the foods I could handle in the beginning of my pregnancy, so I wasn’t getting nearly as much fiber as I needed. Despite my best efforts to eat a LOT of fiber, going five days without a bowel movement was not unusual. Even with a fiber supplement, two fiber one bars per day, AND trying to eat foods high in fiber, I STILL found myself unbearably constipated for the entire 9 months.

About halfway through my pregnancy, my constipation reached its peak one night after I had gone without a bowel movement for a record breaking seven consecutive days. Sean was on campus that night with students, and I was at home retching on the couch in an incredible amount of pain – my inners felt like they wanted to explode but couldn’t. I finally reached the point of desperation and knew I had to embrace the unthinkable – yes, it is what you are thinking – my very last resort. There is nothing quite as dignity crushing as calling your husband to please come home from work early so he can run to the store and pick up a suppository…and proceed to insert it up your butt. Let’s just say, we got a little bit closer that night 🙂 After a few minutes I felt like I had to poop, and I hurried excitedly into the bathroom. I heard one small bloop, and realized it was just the suppository. Dejectedly, I called again for Sean to reinsert a fresh one, and this time I resolved to wait a little longer. If this doesn’t earn Sean best-husband-of-the-century award, I don’t know what will.

30 minutes elapsed and I was hit by a sudden, intense and overwhelming feeling that made it clear to me the suppository had worked. I had mere moments to respond, so I jumped up from the couch, ran towards the bathroom, and collided at full speed with the bathroom’s door frame which sent me back a good two feet. (Hey – don’t judge; I never could get used to my rapidly growing body). Realizing I had no time to react to the pain of body slamming myself into a wall, I made it to the toilet with no time to spare. I was literally milliseconds from pooping my pants. While this may have made a better story, I’d much prefer to keep my “pooping my pants” story count at 0.

For the remainder of the night (until about 4 am), I had an explosive case of the runs every half hour in which I, once again, found myself running off to the toilet. After the second uncomfortably close call, I determined it best to ditch my pants for the night. If there was previously any doubt as to the effectiveness of suppositories, I will gladly be their poster child.

The other 9 ways pregnancy crushed my dignity:

Parts 2 & 3 – Appetite and Weight Gain
Part 4 – Mourning Sickness
Part 5 – Incontinence
Part 6 – Crazy Hormones
Parts 7, 8, & 9 – Pain, Pain, Pain
Part 10, the Pinnacle – Diarrhomit

Also, read about Caleb’s birth:

Caleb’s Birth Story: Rated PG-13 for Language, Nudity, and Drugs 🙂

And here’s the adventures we had after Caleb’s birth:

Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Hospital (Part 1)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Neighbs (Part 2)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Breastfeeding Blues (Part 3)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Body Slammed (Part 4)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Am I an Incompetent Parent (Part 5)

10 Ways Pregnancy Crushed My Dignity

My pregnancy with Caleb was really hard. It certainly could have been worse, but in my mind there’s no denying that the crappy-ness level of it was approximately an 8.257 out of 10. At my first appointment, the Dr. found an ovarian cyst bigger than my uterus during the ultrasound. This caused concern, because if the cyst were to grow, it could have ruptured and become a life-threatening scenario for both myself and Caleb. Fortunately, with many faithful friends and family in prayer for us, the cyst completely disappeared by my next ultrasound to the shock and amazement of my doctor. Though God miraculously healed my body (praise Him!), it was still a scary situation nonetheless, and from there on out, there seemed to be a continuous stream of challenges throughout my pregnancy.

I am grateful and feel very blessed for the life God gave us, but I don’t believe in sugar coating things and the honest truth is that I was miserable throughout my entire pregnancy (though I would obviously say it was well worth it). Similar to my lack of experiential knowledge going into Caleb’s birth, I also lacked experiential knowledge going into pregnancy. Very few of my friends took the dive into parenting before me, so I really hadn’t heard many stories and wasn’t sure what to expect. Looking back, I think I had a pretty idealistic, naive, and unrealistic expectation of what pregnancy would be like. Both my mother and mother-in-law had wonderful, easy pregnancies, so I just assumed mine would be just like theirs. I guess I just pictured myself as a glowing, joyful, walking among the clouds, cute, only gaining weight in the “right” places, rubbing-my-belly-in-public-all-the-time kind of pregnant woman (you know, how all the gagingly perfect pregnant celebrities look and act). Well, it didn’t take long for my fantasy to get obliterated (I’m talking maybe one week in). 4 Words: Longest. Nine. Months. Ever.

The good thing about adversity is we can learn from it and grow as a person. The even better thing about adversity is we can (sometimes) laugh about it later. And the only thing that’s even more fun than retrospectively laughing at your own adversity, is laughing at someone else’s. That’s why I decided to do a series on our blog entitled “10 Ways Pregnancy Crushed My Dignity.” In no particular order, here’s to crushing every romantic idea you ever had about pregnancy. Enjoy.

Part 1 – Constipation
Parts 2 & 3 – Appetite and Weight Gain
Part 4 – Mourning Sickness
Part 5 – Incontinence
Part 6 – Crazy Hormones
Parts 7, 8, & 9 – Pain, Pain, Pain
Part 10 – The Pinnacle, Diarrhomit