I believe because my head tells me to

I was listening to Barlow Girl today and Never Alone came on. This part that always catches me of the song is the chorus:

I cried out with no reply
And I can't feel You by my side
So I'll hold tight to what I know
You're here and I’m never alone

I can’t count the times in my life that I have cried out to God and gotten no response, no feeling, no words of encouragement from someone He sent to me, no anything. It frustrates me sometimes. Okay I’m lying - it frustrates me a great deal of the time. Why does God have different relationships with people? I ask for the same thing such and such has, to call and He answers. Why does He make me depend on my head instead of my heart? I know He’s there, I know He is. I have to have faith, I just have to trust.

Sure I have had those life altering moments where He has come to me. (I’m going to show how Pentecostal I am right now, forgive me if you think that this is a bunch of crap). He has shown me His love in unimaginable ways, He has spoken to me and told me what direction to go in, and He has graced me with His overwhelming presence – so much so that I almost couldn’t breathe. I can draw from those experiences, but the mind is a funny thing. It can explain away those experiences as nothing, as my imagination, as coincidences.

Forced to rely on faith. That is always where I seem to end up. Forced to believe, because I have made a decision to believe.

I do not believe because my parents taught me to believe, nor do I believe because of the four years at a Christian college. I do not believe because I like Christians or being in church. Far from that in fact. I believe because I have studied, looked at the evidence, and searched my soul for the right answers. Almost 8 years ago I faced a crisis, where my whole system of beliefs came crashing down. It was in that crisis that I had to make a decision to be a Christian. Not a Christian that you think about when you think about the word “Christian” but a Christian that follows what the Bible says a Christian should be. I refuse to be a self-righteous, pompous, arrogant, shove-it-down-your throat kind of Christian. I want to be the kind of person God wants me to be; I fail miserably everyday on so many levels.

So I cry out to Him. Help me. help me. Why is there no answer? Why does He make me live by faith? Why not show me His overwhelming love? Why not comfort me and give me strength?

I know He’s there. I know He is guiding me silently. I just wish He didn’t trust me so much. If he didn’t He would be there constantly and I would know that that was God directing my life, that His presence was just a call away. Instead I have to believe with everything I am that He is there.

I just wish it wasn't so difficult.

Sometimes I feel like a bad mom

I was talking to John last night about how I feel like I am a horrible mom. I wonder if everyone feels like that at some point. Noah still isn’t talking yet and it really upsets me sometimes. I wonder if it is because I am doing something wrong. Do I not read to him enough? Maybe I need to unplug the TV so that we can’t watch any at all, we don’t watch that much, but maybe that has impeded his development. I am a quiet person when I am at home, I just don’t say much even to him. I just can’t constantly chatter to him. Maybe I just need to try harder.

I have been so sick with this little girl and now with all the preterm labor the last 6 months it has been impossible to be the mom that I want to be to him. I know that if I wasn’t pregnant that I would defiantly be a better mom. So should I feel guilty for bringing another life into this world? This is it, God willing, no more kids. Four kids out in the world with my DNA is more than enough thank you. I don’t think I physically could handle another pregnancy anyway. But getting back to being a bad mommy. . .

When I was a nanny I was a great nanny. I was one of the best nannies I knew. I interacted with the children all day long. I never left their sides. That was my job wasn’t it? So maybe my guilt comes from the fact that real parenting is very different than being a nanny. I am the one who is the disciplinarian all day long. I have to clean, there is no maid that comes once a week to clean the toilet. I make breakfast lunch and dinner for both of us and dinner for my husband who works very hard and is gone long hours at his job. And finally I am not being paid an ungodly amount in order to take care of my precious little bean. Being a stay at home mom is so much different than being a nanny – in ways that I can’t even describe. I just thought that when I was a mom I would be the best mom ever because I was such a great nanny.

And now I am not only a mommy to Noah, but I am also a mommy to this little girl inside of me. I have to take care of her too, which means I have to take care of myself. Having to be on bedrest with both of my previous pregnancies I know that at any time I could go into serious preterm labor. In fact the last couple days I have been plagued with contractions that hurt and that warn me to take it very easy.

I can honestly say that Noah knows he is loved. I am very affectionate with him. He is fed, clothed, clean, and watched insanely well. In fact I might be called overprotective. Okay I am overprotective. I never let him out of my sight. Even in our apartment. Heck when He naps in his room I peek under the door to make sure that he isn’t himself somehow. I guess if I were to pinpoint what I feel guilty about it is that I don’t play with him enough. Does that make me a bad mom? I hope after Anya is born that I can start being the mom I want to be again. Maybe I’m not a bad mom, maybe I’m just not the mom I want to be.

I think I need to pray that God will help me be the mom He wants me to be, the mom that I want be, and accept that I can’t be perfect.

Gosh this mommy thing is a lot harder than I ever thought it would be.

On Delicate Wings

On these delicate wings I try to balance my life, not swinging too far one way or the other. It is a struggle that I must face everyday. I often loose the battle and plunge into the sea below me. Unlike Icarus I do not die. I have a God that lifts me up over and over out of the depths and repairs these delicate wings so I may attempt to fly again.

An Update

So here I am months after my last post wondering why I abandoned it all.

I know why: I got sick, very very sick. Pregnancy is just not something that agrees with me. Yesterday I made the first real meal for my family in 13 weeks! I haven’t been able to hardly move let alone cook or smell food or get more than a sip of water down. Yuck. I have been on all kinds of drugs to keep food or at the very least liquids down. Yay! Wow yeah sitting down and thinking about my life in the larger perspective doesn’t really seem worth it when I had to struggle with every minute of every day to feel physically human for 13 weeks. Not that I am “all better” now, just well enough to sit down and type.

So here is what has happened in the past couple months:

I got a letter from the adoptive family finally! It was wonderful, absolutely wonderful.

I have decided to let go, I can’t be angry, I can’t dwell, I can’t . . . It hurts too much and I just don’t function well that way. I have to be at peace with stuff. I can’t be like some of you first moms fighting the adoption reform battle. I am not strong enough and not nearly angry enough. I know that I did is what I had to do at the time. I know that adoption is a horrid process and it needs reform, but there is nothing I can do to change my current situation at the moment and I am going to be selfish and say that I need only to concentrate on that, my current situation.

I am having another baby! And wow is that incredible. I have been having some bonding issues, but I think that is pretty normal in my “situation” i.e. – being a birthmother and also being so very sick. I am excited, scared, frustrated, and overwhelmed. I know it is so very cliché but it is hard for me to imagine that I can love this one as much as I love Little Bear.

My dear husband and I moved to our very own place! Yipeeee! We love being here. We love each other, and our relationship is getting so much better. It makes me unbelievably happy.

Finally I’m happy with my life – mostly. It is good to feel as if your life isn’t falling apart even if everything isn’t perfect in it. Sometimes you just have to be content with where you are.

Beautiful boy