Thoughts on the First Half of Pregnancy from a Rookie

• Pregnancy doesn't seem much different than early motherhood really, except as the expecting mother, I've pretty much become the newborn. My life revolves around eating every 2-3 hours, sleeping most of the day, and spending the rest of the time running to the bathroom.

• I cannot imagine how 8-month pregnant women run in marathons, or across the street for that matter.  Today, at 4+ months I ran a pitiful ~2 miles, I'm pretty sure I used the rest room before I left, but this child was surely jumping on my bladder the whole time!

• Pregnancy looked like so much fun: The adorable bump, eating whatever you want, carrying a life inside of you! Oh reality, why aren't you so picturesque? This bump is refusing  to turn cute and round. I guess I could eat whatever I want, but hunger is only a foreshadowing of queasiness now, rarely a desire for food any longer. And, at 18 weeks, other than the one time I heard a heartbeat, and the other time I saw something that could have been a baby on ultrasound, how am I to know this slowly bulging bump is not just a result of the Papa John's cheese sticks, McDonald's hash browns, and Double Stuff Oreos I'm uncharacteristically indulging in?

• The first half of pregnancy is like the Fire Swamp in The Princess Bride.

Buttercup: "We'll never succeed, we may as well die here."

Maybe I'm a bit melodramatic, but I've felt this way a few times...

Wesley: "No, no, we have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the fire swamp? One, the flame spurt.  No problem, there's a popping sound preceding each, we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too.

One, the nausea -- No problem, just eat small meals every 2 hours, avoid orange juice first thing in the morning, run from all smells, and have a loved one grocery shop, cook, and do everything for you.

Two, the fatigue -- Drag yourself out of bed in the morning, get everyone off to school and work, then crawl back into bed. If you can muster the energy, send a scattering of random, but important emails, especially replies, to let everyone at work know you're working very hard, wink, wink. Then doze off again. Before anyone starts arriving home, rally yourself out of bed, squeeze into some clothes, (try to fit in a shower at least once/week) and put on a good show that you've been busy all day, so they'll immediately insist you take a nap. If you don't work from home, my prayers go out to you. I hope you have a corner cubicle where you can hide under your desk and sleep most of the day. 

(Co-workers, this paragraph was all in jest, Of Course!)

Buttercup: "Wesley, what about the ROUSes?"

Wesley: "Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don't believe they exist..." 

Labor and Deliver? Ha! (That's still far enough away, it's easy to deny the impending doom.)

To be continued I'm sure as the weeks pass and the bulge takes shape...

Secrets are for the Birds

Who came up with this keeping quiet about the most exciting news ever for months??!?!  I am terrible at keeping secrets. Ask my close friends, they've pretty much stopped telling me things they don't want shouted from rooftops. I don't think it's that I like to gossip, it's just that I'm an open book, so I have trouble remembering which of other people's tidbits they're not sharing with the world. 

Anyway, I tell you guys everything. We once had a couple say that our community group wasn't as open and vulnerable as they'd hoped, and I was like "What?! This is all we've got! I guess we're just not that deep. We're as transparent as glass." Well at least I am, Jon's a bit more reserved, thus the compliance with the first trimester secrecy, almost.

So, here's why this secret was so hard to keep: the best part about pregnancy so far is having an excuse for everything. I was already big on napping, but now I'm allowed to be fatigued, even encouraged to rest. It's possible I was actually crankier before pregnancy, but now I get more grace for my moods when I have them. I can't remember, but I think I was heading toward early onset Alzheimer's already, but now it's cute to forget things. My six pack abs had never really existed, but who cares about flat tummies anymore. I usually let my hankerings guide my diet, but now I have the word "cravings" to pin these weird pickle, Popsicle, and Pop-tart binges on. And my digestive system didn't always feel the best before, but Jon is super sweet and affectionate when I'm feeling gross now. But that's just the thing; for months, only Jon was aware of my plight.  Everyone else probably just assumed I was a lazy, grumpy, forgetful, queezy, pickle munching glutton! 

And work... How are you supposed to plan for the coming year with your co-workers if they don't know the life changing event that's coming in that year.  

Co-worker: "Can you commit to a conference in 

Starkville, MS February 20th-22nd

Nashville, TN February 27th-March 1st

Orlando, FL February 28-March 3rd

Tampa, FL March 12-15th?"

In my head: "First of all, some of those dates even overlap I cannot be in two places at once! Second of all, those are my Due Date and the 3 weeks following, so uh no...sorry."

Co-worker: "What size shirt would you like us to order for you?"

Under my breath: "Uh, well, for this year? Are they really stretchy?"

Boss: "Do you want to go to St. Kitts Island again next May for the student conference?" 
Thinking: "Well, yeah, but can I take a 3 month old with me?"

7 weeks pregnant, I played in a tennis tournament.  I almost keeled over if any point lasted more than 3 seconds, everyone surely just thought I was a slug.

I vote, we quit hiding the beauty, and the blah, of the first trimester. It's a tough time. There's no adorable baby bump, just unsightly bloating. There's no kicking for husbands to share in. No frequent doctors visits to see the little one. No parties, or shopping, or painting, or prepping. Let's make it okay to celebrate with friends and family whenever we want to. Begone with the fist trimester stigma, to heck with tradition, let's pamper women in every trimester, whether they need you to hold their hair back, or paint their toenails, After all, a woman in her first trimester is likely as tired as one with a newborn in her arms (well, at least I pray there's not a whole nother level of exhaustion I've yet to experience...)

Finally We Can Share What Finally Happened

On Father's Day which just happened to also be Angie's 12th birthday...

The day after we passed up a great deal on a stroller at a yard sale...

 A year after we started "trying".... 

When friends who conceived effortlessly in that year, were already holding their babies, some who even got married in that year, a few who were totally surprised by their bundle of joy, and some who were completely ill-equipped such as my homeless 20 year-old friend whose husband was in jail...

3 months after we lost our first tiny poppy seed...

Years after Angie started praying constantly for a sister or brother...

Almost 3 years after she made this picture for Jon's birthday:

Notice my bump. This was almost a year before Jon and I got married, we weren't even engaged!

One month after she accused us of "not even trying!" What?!?!?!?!

2 years after we were married...

31 days after I cried myself to sleep because I felt like God wouldn't give us a baby till I was a better mother to the daughter He'd already given us and appreciated Angie more... 

4 months after I'd given up and insisted we start the foster-to-adopt process...

8 months before my busiest travel season... 

Ironically, in a month when I left Jon three times for trips, traveling for 14 days...

One week before Jon started his new job after 5 months of looking...

The actual day we had a conversation with Angie about how God uses things like making us wait for a brother or sister to teach us patience...

The exact moment God had planned it to happen all along...

We found out we are expecting!

Angie's baby brother or sister will be joining our family in February 2015, and she sure hopes it's a sister! 

A Story of Hope

When we think we're helping, are we often really hurting?

Is it possible to give without causing dependency?

How do we balance the fine line between aiding and enabling? Are we even sure where the line is? 

Can a home makeover bring about more than a new home, but a fresh start?

These are the questions that run through our minds as we surrender to the all but irresistible urge to "help" a young mother and her infant. How could we look the other way while a new life comes into the world without a shelter to cover it, or a bed to rest on?

Patty Laurence and I have known Lauren H. for over a year, as she's frequented the homeless shelters and feeding programs where we serve. And over the past few months while she survived this brutally cold winter in a tent downtown, her belly has been swelling with a life bringing both hope and fear.

At only 20 years old, Lauren was a bit terrified by the idea of taking care of another person, when taking care of herself was sometimes so overwhelming. The anxiety paralyzed her so much that one week before her due date, Lauren had no place to live or ANYTHING at all for the child. 

Her impending labor pushed her to the top of the list for an organization called Shelter Care Plus, and finally, one day before she was due to give birth, she had an apartment. Patty and I took her to doctors' appointments, A Woman's Choice pregnancy center, LG&E, the pharmacy, and we put the word out about her needs. That's when many of you stepped in so generously.

With a new crib, a closet full of clothes and accessories, diapers for miles, and so many other sweet donations, the only thing missing was the baby. So, Brooklyn La'Shae took her cue on July 21st  and entered the world.The fun was just beginning. As Lauren recovered and Brooklyn grew, the fabulous people at God's Designs were preparing to use donated furniture to turn Lauren's barren apartment into a furnished home. This morning, Lauren and I left her place at 9:30am and shuffled between our house, the park, the doctor, and the pharmacy, until we were allowed to return for the Big Reveal at 2:00pm. It was incredible!!!

From sleeping on cardboard outside of businesses a year ago, Lauren has come a long way to a fully furnished 2-bedroom apartment. She plans to get plugged into Necole's Place now to take parenting classes and get her GED. She's over the moon excited to have a kitchen to cook in, instead of the hotplate she's been using for two years. And she's thrilled to do normal grown-up things like pay her first bill when LG&E sends their invoice for this month.

As Lauren's husband, Michael, comes home soon, and the glow of her new place wears off, Patty and I are well aware of how far the battle--to keep them off the streets and break Brooklyn out of the cycle of poverty--is from won. We also know that although all the stuff everyone provided was so urgently necessary, what Lauren needs long-term is mentoring. 

It would not truly be love if we loaded up her home with goodies, and then continued to hold her hand, drive her around, make her phone calls, and fill her pantry. If we let go of Lauren and Brooklyn, yes, they are likely to fall. But if we keep carrying them, neither of them will ever learn to walk.

So, I think it's time we give these two some space to grow. We can still be there when they scrape their knees, but with the real medicine that is more than just a band-aid, but rather Christ's love that empowers.

Weaker Than I Thought

I adopted Angie because I thought I was strong enough.

God gave me Angie because I thought I was strong enough,
 and He knew I needed to learn otherwise.

It took me almost four years to come to this ironic conclusion.

I thought I was capable of raising a child alone. Other, younger, less mature, less educated, less financially prepared people raise children all the time. Of course, I would have no problem. I mean, yeah, I'd have like regular problems, but I was plenty qualified. So I pushed on through the 6 month foreign (and I mean in Spanish) adoption process. Seriously, if I could navigate that I could navigate parenthood, right?

I thought I was fully equipped to give this child what she needed; a home, a family, love, a mother. In all honesty, I was a bit terrified and unsure, but I convinced myself, with the help of some of you, that whatever attempt at a home and one on one care I could offer was more than an orphanage had to give.

But it wasn't just Angie that God was rescuing when He brought us together. I see now that it was precisely because I thought I had it all under control that He saw it necessary to show me the truth. 

Through motherhood, God's taken me down a notch. He's taught me grace and compassion where before there was too often judgement. He's shown me sides of myself I never had to stare at before there was a little mirror reflecting all my flaws at me. 

God used Angie to prepare me for the selflessness marriage would require. To put me on a path toward patience. To give me an empathy for parents of all kinds and a vulnerability to start real conversations about hard stuff.

He's broken me to the place where I need Him to be whole, and in my weakness, with Him I am stronger than I was when I thought I had it all together. Mostly, because now I know I don't.

Today, I finally called about counseling, admitting out loud, that I'm not enough to heal this child's wounds.

I adopted Angie because I thought I was strong enough.

God gave me Angie to prove to me I'm not strong enough. And to show me He is.

“But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me." 

-2 Corinthians 12:9

Angie beaming with pride in her work on my hair and nails today, just a few minutes before she was crying about something else.

Legacy

How long will you be remembered after you're gone? Like really remembered and celebrated? I don't have any delusions about having a bank holiday in my honor, but this weekend at our family reunion in Barren River Lake State Park I was reminded of just what an impact one life can have.

For the past 45 years the Scott clan has reunioned. At the beginning it was annually to celebrate Mattie "Mamaw" Scott's birthday, and then as families grew in size and distance, and schedules got tighter, it evolved to an every-three-year gathering. When Mamaw passed on 18 years ago, no one really expected the tradition to continue. But as the number of Mamaw and Papaw's seven living children dwindled to three, the enthusiasm to come together from around the world has not cooled.

Even Ruby was stoked about going to meet her Scott relations.

Three years ago, Jon's first introduction to the Scott crew--a year before he still bravely entered the family--86 of us crammed into this photo.

This year, although the family has grown, our numbers were down to the mid-seventies:

It all got me thinking about a few things, such as:

Is it okay for an adopted child to have a crush on someone at a family reunion, especially if it's a third cousin in-law?  Seriously, there's no common blood whatsoever, she could do worse.

Genetics are so complex! The resemblance in a nuclear family can be uncanny, while one degree of separation and there might be no recognizable similarities in appearance or personality. At the lake where we had all our cabins, we just waved at everyone assuming we were related to them, cause we could barely distinguish who was with us, and we definitely couldn't remember all their names.  I propose in three years, we have a competition to see who can recite, or draw, the family tree the most accurately. Maybe that will encourage us to do our homework a little better before we make fools of ourselves pretending we remember who goes with who.

And finally, just how many lives can one person affect? For better or worse, we are constantly altering the course of not only our own existences, but those around us with our words and actions. What can I be doing now to ensure that my offspring enjoy spending time together enough that dozens of them will continue to travel to see each other for decades after I'm gone? (Aside from the obvious answer of having some offspring in the first place.)

In my opinion, this is Mamaw's greatest accomplishment. She may not have a holiday named after her, but she raised children who value family. She taught them to love each other well enough not to let petty things separate them. To forgive, to laugh, and to seek to do life together. It is a huge credit to her that Jon still proposed after spending a weekend with 85 of my relatives. Let's see if the three girlfriends who joined us this year will stick around too...

The family tradition of singing "Good Old Mountain Dew"

If you're part of this motley Scott crew, or you just want to see what traditions like singing together for decades looks like, check out our latest family reunion video, but at 18 minutes it's not for the faint of heart. If you are a Scott, you might want to have some Kleenex nearby.

Feast or Famine

When it rains it pours. For five months, Jon's been making the most of his job search drought by working on overdue projects around the house. You may remember some of his odd jobs from a recent post, This Guy.

Here are just a few others he's tackled since then:

 

He built a room in the garage to paint the mismatched parts of our old 4Runner that he'd found at the junkyard.

Then he ingeniously Macgyvered a few other pieces to make it good as new.

He took care of our overgrown landscaping and yard waste.

He stained the playhouse, swing set, deck,fence, and side stairs!

He painted behind the bookshelves in the den. (Our fireplace is not usually this cluttered, that's all stuff from the bookshelves.)

And he took on countless handyman jobs for friends and family such as; replacing my parents' bathroom floor and vanity, cutting down trees, working on cars, installing sinks, painting houses, etc. etc. etc.

I say all this, not only to brag on my man, but to remind us all to let God turn every situation into good. Jon could have sat around eating ice cream and feeling sorry for himself, I sure would have. He could have spent hours a day watching TV or surfing the internet. But he redeemed this free time by using it well. I doubt he said "no" to anyone who asked him for a hand, and he rarely took any payment without putting up a fight. He wanted nothing more than to be generous with his time and skills while he had the chance.

As in Joseph's time, God can use the famines to bring about His purposes and His glory as much as the feasts. God is working behind the scenes to write a story which we can't even fathom. One we'll want to read again from the beginning once we know the outcome and begin to see why the characters developed as they did and why the plot unfolded just so.
 

Alas, this chapter of our story is coming to a close. Jon's Honey-do list is getting shorter, his few unfinished tasks have a deadline now, because he finally got to cross off "Find a Job" from the list! He went four months without an interview and in the past month, he's had three interviews and subsequently three offers. (Maybe his true calling  is to start a business training people for interviews!) After much prayer and consideration, he accepted the opportunity with the best long-term potential to satisfy him and help him provide for our family.

I'm not sure why God decided Jon should be available for a whole semester while Angie was in school and we were basically tethered to Louisville, and now start a position as soon as she's free for the summer and we have four vacations planned. But I'm sure He'll turn this around for good as well and I'll trust His timing even if it means missing a couple trips to Florida and Maine. I can't wait to see the story God's writing for our lives. Thank you for praying with us through this chapter!

I leave you with the beauty of this natural faux hawk.

One of the perks of unemployment--if your bedhead is this awesome you get to keep it all day!