It sure is a "new thing" out there, only outside of my little bubble of a life, things are not being renewed in a good way. I went out with 8 amazingly beautiful women, most of which I used to party with way back when I was a pip squeak and a totally invincible eighteen year old. I have barely seen the nightlife since then. However, last Saturday I think I got more then my fair share. It was enough to keep me from it until further notice.
First we went to a place that was described to me as a "1920s feel -type place," so I'm thinking, is that like super classy old-school feel? No, wrong. The Pussy Cat Dolls, is a place oozing with lust. It makes no apologies for the total sex-ified room and women prancing around in almost nothing and shaking all that was exposed in the lime-light on stage. I watched men obviously stare at these women, looking at them like they were 100% objects. Yuck, I hate witnessing that grossness coming out of men's eyes. All I could do was think about my girls and how badly I hoped they'd never be okay with being used like this and also wonder how on earth I was ever okay with doing it myself back when I was 18. I wondered how society's erosion happens so exponentially fast. Then I felt bad for what could have been partially participating in the normalcy of go-go dancing.
Next we went to a place that I hoped would be more like what I remembered back in the day; just people having a good time dancing. Instead it was mostly just a huge room with different levels of people standing around and drinking. Obviously I shouldn't be that surprised about the drinking, but that wasn't the only thing that was outside of my lifestyle and convictions. There right next to me, again, so obviously done, a group of people were smoking weed. I remembered my sister telling me that this happens in clubs now because if a group of people are going to spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars on bottles, they're going to get to do what they want and the owner will look the other way. But how did this happen in just about 7 or 8 years since I was out there? (Yes, I know, my party phase was younger then most's). Then I remembered that two states now have legalized the recreational use of marijuana.
On the way home we stopped one last time at the local Poway pub. And for those of you who don't know Poway, a small town with a small town pub is going to be exactly like you would expect. A mostly older crowd, everyone visibly more drunk then even your down-town dancers, just sitting there in total silence minus the loud music consisting of random old songs. But then, there's movement. Coming from a the fumbling bodies of a few young men and they move towards the few older women left in the bar at the late hour of 1:30am. I see all of them flirt uninhibitedly, clearly comforted by a lot of liquid courage. Liquid courage that takes them from that table or bar stool to each other's arms, then each other's lips, then they leave in pairs all within fifteen minutes after the exchange begins. Wow, I think to myself in disgust, for a third time that evening. I was hurting for these people who couldn't possibly be willing to do such things without something sad going on inside of them.
I think I must have described now the 3 strikes that made me "out" of the game. Even for my sincere love of dancing, even for the natural little wild goofy girl in me, even for my real need for time to let lose from the extremely demanding life I live of a single mother, I CAN NOT be out there watching this. It's not that I want to be unrealistic, and I'm not in denial as I cuddle with the cozy bubble walls. This bubble is actually a lot more dangerous considering I actually have to rely on faith that my endurance through this difficult time is going to take me to a place of fulfillment that will carry me through a much longer time then one evening of distraction here and there. It's not a comfortable place to embrace a time of loneliness, going day by day on an unseen hope that God knows what I need more then I do. But this verse has never lost it's power: Romans 5:3-5
"...also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope. 5 And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Friday, September 21, 2012
In One Year
I have to take a moment and reflect on how great God is. It is only God who has the power to take something designed for evil and destruction and turn it into so much healing and beauty. It's been one year since my world turned upside down, yet in one year, I have grown more and been blessed more spiritually and physically then ever before.
When I say, "upside down" I mean UPSIDE DOWN. I was married to a man that I loved so much, the thought of heaven was fearful because I thought probably you're not married in heaven. We had a gorgeous spunky little one year old who we loved so much we would lay down to go to bed and say to each other, "I love her" like it was a replacement for "goodnight." We had just bought a beautiful home that was so big; two stories, five bedrooms, two car garage, and just beautiful. AND we had recently found out that even through an IUD God had blessed us with another miracle baby! We had made so many awesome friends even though we'd only moved to Albuquerque a year before. I didn't have to work and money was decent. We were about to start leading a marriage group for the second time. I thought we had.it.all...(hello pride!). And in the matter of one month, everything was ripped away, with the exception of Mikayla still growing inside me. In the matter of one second, everything I thought I knew was completely flipped upside down.
I remember that moment. It's something I'll never ever forget. I ran into a room where sleeping Natanya couldn't hear me and screamed, "GOD!!!!!!!" I can't even begin to describe the pain that strangled my heart in such an instant. I cried and cried uncontrollably. I held my shaking arms together and fell on my knees saying, "God, God, God," over and over again. If you've ever been gripped by tragedy in this way, you know what I'm talking about. It's that moment that changes everything at the knowledge of something so so bad. It's the beginning of a process of grief which is the hardest thing we can go through on this backwards planet. At some point you have no choice but to get off the floor. For me, it was hearing Natanya who usually wakes up singing, waking up crying. It's that point where you have get up and then you have to walk out what just happened for who knows how long. You have two choices if you want to survive, run to God, or run from him. I'm so glad I chose the first, even though for many of the following days it feels like he's the one who abandoned you. If you also have chosen the first, you know that you have to persevere like you never have before.
Perseverance. Wow, what a word. James 1:4 says, "let perseverance finish it's work so that you may be full and complete, not lacking anything." Have you ever really done this? It takes more time than you planned, more patience than you wanted to have, and more endurance than you thought you had. I'm in the middle of this still. But during this time, I have learned so much!
It's funny how so much truth can result from an exposure of a multitude of lies. Just to name a few of the big truths I picked up...I learned that I am NOT in control, and God may not seem to be right now, but ultimately his grace is still shown in his sovereignty. I learned that my girls are a blessing that makes me so rich, beyond anything I could ever lack. I learned that I don't have to suffer in loneliness and that loneliness is NOT worthlessness. I learned that God wants me to be happy as much as I want to serve him. I learned that what Christ did on the cross is so much bigger and more powerful and more important then the answer to whether or not I ever get remarried.
And even more good things have transpired! I have a closer relationship with my mom and sister. I have this miraculous relationship with my in-laws. I am pursuing a couple of really cool things to better myself and my girls and its so exciting! I have found so many things out about myself that I didn't even know existed. I really truly LOVE God and I love myself based on who he has made me to be.
In one year my world was flipped upside down, yet the sun rises brighter here. And God is still doing my "new thing."
When I say, "upside down" I mean UPSIDE DOWN. I was married to a man that I loved so much, the thought of heaven was fearful because I thought probably you're not married in heaven. We had a gorgeous spunky little one year old who we loved so much we would lay down to go to bed and say to each other, "I love her" like it was a replacement for "goodnight." We had just bought a beautiful home that was so big; two stories, five bedrooms, two car garage, and just beautiful. AND we had recently found out that even through an IUD God had blessed us with another miracle baby! We had made so many awesome friends even though we'd only moved to Albuquerque a year before. I didn't have to work and money was decent. We were about to start leading a marriage group for the second time. I thought we had.it.all...(hello pride!). And in the matter of one month, everything was ripped away, with the exception of Mikayla still growing inside me. In the matter of one second, everything I thought I knew was completely flipped upside down.
I remember that moment. It's something I'll never ever forget. I ran into a room where sleeping Natanya couldn't hear me and screamed, "GOD!!!!!!!" I can't even begin to describe the pain that strangled my heart in such an instant. I cried and cried uncontrollably. I held my shaking arms together and fell on my knees saying, "God, God, God," over and over again. If you've ever been gripped by tragedy in this way, you know what I'm talking about. It's that moment that changes everything at the knowledge of something so so bad. It's the beginning of a process of grief which is the hardest thing we can go through on this backwards planet. At some point you have no choice but to get off the floor. For me, it was hearing Natanya who usually wakes up singing, waking up crying. It's that point where you have get up and then you have to walk out what just happened for who knows how long. You have two choices if you want to survive, run to God, or run from him. I'm so glad I chose the first, even though for many of the following days it feels like he's the one who abandoned you. If you also have chosen the first, you know that you have to persevere like you never have before.
Perseverance. Wow, what a word. James 1:4 says, "let perseverance finish it's work so that you may be full and complete, not lacking anything." Have you ever really done this? It takes more time than you planned, more patience than you wanted to have, and more endurance than you thought you had. I'm in the middle of this still. But during this time, I have learned so much!
It's funny how so much truth can result from an exposure of a multitude of lies. Just to name a few of the big truths I picked up...I learned that I am NOT in control, and God may not seem to be right now, but ultimately his grace is still shown in his sovereignty. I learned that my girls are a blessing that makes me so rich, beyond anything I could ever lack. I learned that I don't have to suffer in loneliness and that loneliness is NOT worthlessness. I learned that God wants me to be happy as much as I want to serve him. I learned that what Christ did on the cross is so much bigger and more powerful and more important then the answer to whether or not I ever get remarried.
And even more good things have transpired! I have a closer relationship with my mom and sister. I have this miraculous relationship with my in-laws. I am pursuing a couple of really cool things to better myself and my girls and its so exciting! I have found so many things out about myself that I didn't even know existed. I really truly LOVE God and I love myself based on who he has made me to be.
In one year my world was flipped upside down, yet the sun rises brighter here. And God is still doing my "new thing."
Monday, September 3, 2012
empowered
That's the new me; empowered. I'm not lonely just because I'm alone anymore. I'm on fire! I never forgot my first love, but I have definitely stepped out of a place that kept us distant. In the past ten months I have been alone, romantically speaking, and It has been the hardest thing I have ever had to persevere through. However, I am encouraged now to keep going. I thought that the physical and emotional pain I was feeling was something I was forced to endure. Although I still believe this time will continue to be a time of endurance, I am no longer going to suffer in those lonely moments in such an immense way. It all changed when I realized that I was equating loneliness with abandonment, rejection, and more-so worthlessness. Being alone was being rejected and worthless, they were one in the same to me.
I thought that everyone felt that way when without a partner. I had no idea that I was believing a lie. This is just what being alone feels like, I thought. No, no it's not. I had met women who were so independent yet single and admired them; however, I assumed that they all just passed the solitude with meaningless flings to hold them over. Of course that is not an option for me, so I figured I was doomed to be depressed every evening until God knows when. Without realizing yet that I was believing a lie, I came to a cross roads. I could chose to persevere through this pain or find some way to camouflage the loneliness with some temporary kind of affection, anything to keep me alive. I am convinced that if I chose the latter, I would not have had the opportunity to come to the awareness that I did. And thank God he gave me these girls to make it impossible for me to chose the easy way out.
I made it known to those that love me that I was hurting, hurting really bad, and that I felt like I couldn't go on any longer like this. Once I got vulnerable with these issues, the truth was found. I tried to pull the thread and realized that loneliness has meant worthlessness for a long time! It goes all the way back to high school for me. And probably started to creep up in middle school when my friends first started to get boyfriends and talk about how many times they've kissed a guy. In high school especially when I was the one doing my friend's hair for the dances instead of going with anyone. I compared myself to my friends and I continued that insecure pattern until it became dormant when I got married. And then now, I was comparing myself to other mom's who's husbands didn't leave them. It's an ugly thing that Satan does when he rubs it in your face like that, but he can't do it if you don't let him. He has to convince you first that you are less than them because of what you don't have. Once you start believing that, you forget that your worth is so much greater than simply loved by a man or men or people for that matter. Then you forget that you are loved by God.
I feel so empowered. I am alone, but I am loved and there is no one to distract me of that right now, and that is okay. In fact, it's great. Well maybe not great all the time, haha, but It is not death!
I thought that everyone felt that way when without a partner. I had no idea that I was believing a lie. This is just what being alone feels like, I thought. No, no it's not. I had met women who were so independent yet single and admired them; however, I assumed that they all just passed the solitude with meaningless flings to hold them over. Of course that is not an option for me, so I figured I was doomed to be depressed every evening until God knows when. Without realizing yet that I was believing a lie, I came to a cross roads. I could chose to persevere through this pain or find some way to camouflage the loneliness with some temporary kind of affection, anything to keep me alive. I am convinced that if I chose the latter, I would not have had the opportunity to come to the awareness that I did. And thank God he gave me these girls to make it impossible for me to chose the easy way out.
I made it known to those that love me that I was hurting, hurting really bad, and that I felt like I couldn't go on any longer like this. Once I got vulnerable with these issues, the truth was found. I tried to pull the thread and realized that loneliness has meant worthlessness for a long time! It goes all the way back to high school for me. And probably started to creep up in middle school when my friends first started to get boyfriends and talk about how many times they've kissed a guy. In high school especially when I was the one doing my friend's hair for the dances instead of going with anyone. I compared myself to my friends and I continued that insecure pattern until it became dormant when I got married. And then now, I was comparing myself to other mom's who's husbands didn't leave them. It's an ugly thing that Satan does when he rubs it in your face like that, but he can't do it if you don't let him. He has to convince you first that you are less than them because of what you don't have. Once you start believing that, you forget that your worth is so much greater than simply loved by a man or men or people for that matter. Then you forget that you are loved by God.
I feel so empowered. I am alone, but I am loved and there is no one to distract me of that right now, and that is okay. In fact, it's great. Well maybe not great all the time, haha, but It is not death!
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
House and Home
I live in a house, but I don't have a home. I am on borrowed ground. I'm like a mother bird with baby chicks in someone else's nest, and not just another bird, an entirely different species of animal. It is strange that I feel like this living in my own mother's house, but we are so different it's really strange.
I am not forgetting to count my blessings, realizing that my children and I would have no place to go if it wasn't for my mom. She has been so kind to let me organize and clean things virtually from top to bottom of this place. She has listened when I have tried to explain what it means to have a spiritual covering over a home and she is probably trying to put protection as a higher priority. I am very blessed to be living with someone who is a Christian, God forbid I had to try and nurture my very young babies somewhere where I couldn't even count on that fact. Nevertheless, I find myself so awkward here.
It's not just about cleanliness itself. It is so important that I teach my kids good habits and protect their curious little hands from getting into things, and trying to do that here battling my mom's habits is rough, but there's so much more to it. At first I thought it was just pride coming from a place where I really had the control and authority, or maybe some kind of natural womanly-nesting thing that made us all picky, or maybe my conflict was that I really am too type-A-ish. But recently I found the answer, and it's none of those. My need to create a home is so divinely inspired. I'll be careful to still check my pride and pickiness motives, but I know now that wanting to make a home my way is truly valuable.
A home is a piece of heaven. Heaven is where we get to go where there is no more pain or suffering any longer, and a home should serve as a temporary substitute. When I have the authority to prayerfully protect a house it becomes a home. When I can be the spiritual authority(or maybe one day a partner to one again) and cover it, who comes in and out, and what comes in and out, then it's a home. It's about creating a place where myself, my children, and anyone who visits can walk in and instantly feel at peace no matter what is going on outside the doors. And not just because there's not crumbs on the counter or stains on the sofa, but because they can temporarily look around and see a place without worry, strife, or injustice. I desire to make a place pretty because it should sooth a weary soul. I want a place for my kids where they can start and end their day in God's presence. There should be order not because it impresses anyone, but because it can contradict a chaotic world. There should be a higher standard of love and protection then anywhere else a resident could go.
I'm so grateful for knowing the Sousa family. I'm blessed to see how that home has been such an oasis to so many people. I am happy that now I know why and I am hopeful that God would give me again the chance to create that myself.
I am not forgetting to count my blessings, realizing that my children and I would have no place to go if it wasn't for my mom. She has been so kind to let me organize and clean things virtually from top to bottom of this place. She has listened when I have tried to explain what it means to have a spiritual covering over a home and she is probably trying to put protection as a higher priority. I am very blessed to be living with someone who is a Christian, God forbid I had to try and nurture my very young babies somewhere where I couldn't even count on that fact. Nevertheless, I find myself so awkward here.
It's not just about cleanliness itself. It is so important that I teach my kids good habits and protect their curious little hands from getting into things, and trying to do that here battling my mom's habits is rough, but there's so much more to it. At first I thought it was just pride coming from a place where I really had the control and authority, or maybe some kind of natural womanly-nesting thing that made us all picky, or maybe my conflict was that I really am too type-A-ish. But recently I found the answer, and it's none of those. My need to create a home is so divinely inspired. I'll be careful to still check my pride and pickiness motives, but I know now that wanting to make a home my way is truly valuable.
A home is a piece of heaven. Heaven is where we get to go where there is no more pain or suffering any longer, and a home should serve as a temporary substitute. When I have the authority to prayerfully protect a house it becomes a home. When I can be the spiritual authority(or maybe one day a partner to one again) and cover it, who comes in and out, and what comes in and out, then it's a home. It's about creating a place where myself, my children, and anyone who visits can walk in and instantly feel at peace no matter what is going on outside the doors. And not just because there's not crumbs on the counter or stains on the sofa, but because they can temporarily look around and see a place without worry, strife, or injustice. I desire to make a place pretty because it should sooth a weary soul. I want a place for my kids where they can start and end their day in God's presence. There should be order not because it impresses anyone, but because it can contradict a chaotic world. There should be a higher standard of love and protection then anywhere else a resident could go.
I'm so grateful for knowing the Sousa family. I'm blessed to see how that home has been such an oasis to so many people. I am happy that now I know why and I am hopeful that God would give me again the chance to create that myself.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Worship
I'm going to have to skip all the details about why I was in my car full of so much stress from everything that's been happening lately. I prayed, God, I'm just going to worship you. And so I turned on something sung by Kim Walker, anything by her would do the trick. I started to sing, thought wow I love this song, felt the Holy Spirit start to minister to me in love, then I stopped.
No, I said to God, I am not going to get into this if it's just going to end five minutes later and I'll still be here will all this junk going on, Lord, I need something eternal to sustain me. I know how powerful worship is. I know that just worshiping God in the middle of my circumstances would be productive, but what I have been going through in the last week has required more self control and endurance out of me and frankly, I was tired of it. I really needed something from God that was going to make these attacks go away and/or make me feel above it all. However, God responded, Well you're not in Heaven yet. Like a whiny kid and not in total seriousness I replied, Well then I wanna be in Heaven!
I sat there letting the new understanding of just how much we need Heaven and what a wonderful place it is sink in. Then I figured, well I guess I'll just worship him anyways. I turned the music louder, just laid my head on God's shoulder (figuratively speaking). Then I got a vision.
I am going to try and put this vision into words, but it will not do it justice. What I saw was an army of worship. I saw spirits of worship and praise pressing forward as an army marches on in battle. Only, this army had no physical form that makes sense. It was just literally spirits of worship and praise. They moved forward like a monstrous title wave, yet in some kind of unison, moved side to side at the same time. There was no sealing or floor. This army was in a place that does not compare to earthly shapes. So I knew that this was God showing me that what goes on spiritually when we praise is not visible to us here.
This blessed me so much. Although we are on earth and dealing with the will of other's, our flesh, and Satan's plans of destruction, we still have a God who fights for us in ways we don't understand. When we make a decision to praise him in a battle, he goes to battle with his supreme power, even if we don't see victory in the horizon. I was encouraged to continue, and I hope this encourages you to be hopeful in your worship. God is so sovereign.
No, I said to God, I am not going to get into this if it's just going to end five minutes later and I'll still be here will all this junk going on, Lord, I need something eternal to sustain me. I know how powerful worship is. I know that just worshiping God in the middle of my circumstances would be productive, but what I have been going through in the last week has required more self control and endurance out of me and frankly, I was tired of it. I really needed something from God that was going to make these attacks go away and/or make me feel above it all. However, God responded, Well you're not in Heaven yet. Like a whiny kid and not in total seriousness I replied, Well then I wanna be in Heaven!
I sat there letting the new understanding of just how much we need Heaven and what a wonderful place it is sink in. Then I figured, well I guess I'll just worship him anyways. I turned the music louder, just laid my head on God's shoulder (figuratively speaking). Then I got a vision.
I am going to try and put this vision into words, but it will not do it justice. What I saw was an army of worship. I saw spirits of worship and praise pressing forward as an army marches on in battle. Only, this army had no physical form that makes sense. It was just literally spirits of worship and praise. They moved forward like a monstrous title wave, yet in some kind of unison, moved side to side at the same time. There was no sealing or floor. This army was in a place that does not compare to earthly shapes. So I knew that this was God showing me that what goes on spiritually when we praise is not visible to us here.
This blessed me so much. Although we are on earth and dealing with the will of other's, our flesh, and Satan's plans of destruction, we still have a God who fights for us in ways we don't understand. When we make a decision to praise him in a battle, he goes to battle with his supreme power, even if we don't see victory in the horizon. I was encouraged to continue, and I hope this encourages you to be hopeful in your worship. God is so sovereign.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Security and Love
This will be the first blog post where I describe in detail the conversation I had with God that got me to my newest revelation. I know that those who know me well don't doubt or judge me because they now how long I've been like this, (having actual back and forth conversations with God) ; however, I realize that some people will find this slightly strange. All I can say to those people is that this doesn't have anything to do with me, I've just learned to hear God's voice and he really is a very involved and present God in my life and he really does talk back. I'll put my prayers and his responses in italics because his voice isn't audible, at least not in these times.
While driving the other day I caught myself imagining something terrible happening to me and Josh (my X) being driven to repentance because of it. I imagined, what if I just got hit by that truck and my kids were fine but I died? He'd have to take care of these babies, he'd need his parent's help, and he'd really be pushed into reality. Maybe it'd be worth it for my girls to have a father who is reconciled to God? ...No...no,no, no! I could never leave my girls! They need me and I need them. So I asked the Lord, God, why do I always think like that?! That's just awful! He said, because you know the power of sacrificial love, but Karen, you don't need to be crucified, I already did that. It's my love that leads a man to repentance. Would you want your daughters to die just to change someone else's spiritual future? I responded, no, I would take the bullet for them! And God said, exactly, I already took the bullet for you and for him. I don't want you to. That's what makes you a princess. Do you realize this concept plays a part in your love-life? I prayed, no, what do you mean? And then God really opened the blinds, all your life you have been looking for someone who knows me like you know me because it gives you security, but because you haven't been aware of the fact that you are a princess and a daughter of mine, you have put a priority on security far and above love. Don't you know I actually want you to be happy just as much as you want to serve me with your partner? I was blown away, wow God, I am so blessed by that.
What an amazing revelation. I have been looking for someone who can prove to me a strength in their relationship with God, which is still the most important thing, but it has become at the cost of love for me, which is totally unnecessary. I was actually putting love so far down the priority list because security was taken up all the room, that I was starting to forget about it! God was showing me that I can have someone who is totally purposed to live a life that gives him glory, but it is totally possible for us to be in love also. I don't have to settle for someone I don't love because I feel security in their faith; rather, I can have both love and faith. What a total blessing it is to know that God wants me to be blessed and happy and in love. Like he said, as much as I want to serve him, he actually wants to bless me because he loves me. And his love for his bride (the church) is an example of a passionate, miraculous, long-lasting, love and it is available for us to experience with our spouse here on earth. Thank you Jesus!
While driving the other day I caught myself imagining something terrible happening to me and Josh (my X) being driven to repentance because of it. I imagined, what if I just got hit by that truck and my kids were fine but I died? He'd have to take care of these babies, he'd need his parent's help, and he'd really be pushed into reality. Maybe it'd be worth it for my girls to have a father who is reconciled to God? ...No...no,no, no! I could never leave my girls! They need me and I need them. So I asked the Lord, God, why do I always think like that?! That's just awful! He said, because you know the power of sacrificial love, but Karen, you don't need to be crucified, I already did that. It's my love that leads a man to repentance. Would you want your daughters to die just to change someone else's spiritual future? I responded, no, I would take the bullet for them! And God said, exactly, I already took the bullet for you and for him. I don't want you to. That's what makes you a princess. Do you realize this concept plays a part in your love-life? I prayed, no, what do you mean? And then God really opened the blinds, all your life you have been looking for someone who knows me like you know me because it gives you security, but because you haven't been aware of the fact that you are a princess and a daughter of mine, you have put a priority on security far and above love. Don't you know I actually want you to be happy just as much as you want to serve me with your partner? I was blown away, wow God, I am so blessed by that.
What an amazing revelation. I have been looking for someone who can prove to me a strength in their relationship with God, which is still the most important thing, but it has become at the cost of love for me, which is totally unnecessary. I was actually putting love so far down the priority list because security was taken up all the room, that I was starting to forget about it! God was showing me that I can have someone who is totally purposed to live a life that gives him glory, but it is totally possible for us to be in love also. I don't have to settle for someone I don't love because I feel security in their faith; rather, I can have both love and faith. What a total blessing it is to know that God wants me to be blessed and happy and in love. Like he said, as much as I want to serve him, he actually wants to bless me because he loves me. And his love for his bride (the church) is an example of a passionate, miraculous, long-lasting, love and it is available for us to experience with our spouse here on earth. Thank you Jesus!
Monday, July 9, 2012
Netflix Nights
The days are easier but the nights are harder.That is the conclusion I came up with when posed the question, "what's harder; being single or being single with children?" It's a breeze from 6 am when I barely get enough time to drink a cup of coffee before the distractions begin and all the way up until 8:30 pm when the little ones go to sleep. Then it starts, two to three hours of total solitude.What to I do? Roll around in bed wondering why I'm still squeezing myself onto one side? Think about how strange it feels to not have someone to say goodnight to when I spent 5 years straight saying goodnight to the exact same person every single night? Hug all four my pillows at the same time?
I remember what it was like being lonely as a single person, it was all about curiosity. When you are single and never married or at least single without kids, you can spend time wondering who you're going to meet next time you're out because the chances of meeting someone are so much higher. You can wonder how many more first dates you're going to go on before you find someone who makes it all the way to the ball and chain and you can spend time putting yourself in situations that might make that possible. The curiosity wouldn't kill you because the hope of finding a companion came with an expectation of sooner than later.
With kids, it's all about them, especially when they're little like mine. I am either tending to one or two people all day everyday. There are 168 hours in a week and a total of roughly 9 hours of my week are spent awake and not tending to little people. Most of that "free" time is spent right after they go to sleep at night, and that's when all 159 of the other hours worth of needing me time hits me. I just did next to nothing for myself all day. I don't even get to go to the bathroom by myself and some of many of my showers are rushed to get back to a baby or two. But even with all that said, I still long to spend that time with someone else. I cannot escape the very loud silence that says, "you are alone." So far the only way I can pretend it's not true is to watch something on Hulu or Netflix reflecting people who aren't alone and see if I can live vicariously through a completely unrealistic facade on a screen. But it's not working.
With each new episode of the Bachelorette and every low-rated romantic comedy, it never fails the screen still leaves me alone. Proverbs 13:12 is accurate in saying, "hope deferred makes a heart sick." So what that tells me is it is time that I have to actually own this alone-ness. I have to soak in every emptiness, breathe in a desolate room, and totally accept the fact that this is really where God is allowing me to be right now. I'm sure some of you are thinking, you're not alone God is with you, but that just means you have not experienced the extreme isolated feeling that I'm talking about which comes from a drastic change in your life like divorce. I know that God is with me, it is true, and if it wasn't for him I'd be going crazy in those lonely moments; however, I am physically-speaking alone. And that is why I have resolved to acceptance. This is me for now; single mom, usually unappreciated, completely dedicated to giving my girls everything I can, independently abiding, and confident only in that God is good and he knows what I need.
I remember what it was like being lonely as a single person, it was all about curiosity. When you are single and never married or at least single without kids, you can spend time wondering who you're going to meet next time you're out because the chances of meeting someone are so much higher. You can wonder how many more first dates you're going to go on before you find someone who makes it all the way to the ball and chain and you can spend time putting yourself in situations that might make that possible. The curiosity wouldn't kill you because the hope of finding a companion came with an expectation of sooner than later.
With kids, it's all about them, especially when they're little like mine. I am either tending to one or two people all day everyday. There are 168 hours in a week and a total of roughly 9 hours of my week are spent awake and not tending to little people. Most of that "free" time is spent right after they go to sleep at night, and that's when all 159 of the other hours worth of needing me time hits me. I just did next to nothing for myself all day. I don't even get to go to the bathroom by myself and some of many of my showers are rushed to get back to a baby or two. But even with all that said, I still long to spend that time with someone else. I cannot escape the very loud silence that says, "you are alone." So far the only way I can pretend it's not true is to watch something on Hulu or Netflix reflecting people who aren't alone and see if I can live vicariously through a completely unrealistic facade on a screen. But it's not working.
With each new episode of the Bachelorette and every low-rated romantic comedy, it never fails the screen still leaves me alone. Proverbs 13:12 is accurate in saying, "hope deferred makes a heart sick." So what that tells me is it is time that I have to actually own this alone-ness. I have to soak in every emptiness, breathe in a desolate room, and totally accept the fact that this is really where God is allowing me to be right now. I'm sure some of you are thinking, you're not alone God is with you, but that just means you have not experienced the extreme isolated feeling that I'm talking about which comes from a drastic change in your life like divorce. I know that God is with me, it is true, and if it wasn't for him I'd be going crazy in those lonely moments; however, I am physically-speaking alone. And that is why I have resolved to acceptance. This is me for now; single mom, usually unappreciated, completely dedicated to giving my girls everything I can, independently abiding, and confident only in that God is good and he knows what I need.
Friday, June 22, 2012
My Fat Butt
I know what you're thinking. Oh my gosh, what on earth kind of title is that? It came to me as I was reading Fight Like a Girl, by Lisa Bevere. As I was reading her discussion on Websters definitions for woman and feminine, all the characteristics like delicate, sensitive, etc... it hit me, my shape is by-definition womanly and therefore perfect and perfectly normal. I know those adjectives might have had a different intention, but I believe this conclusion was a little God-inspired too.
God was revealing to me that he made woman to look different for a reason, because it compliments all of our non-visual characteristics. For example, the softness in our maternal instincts is reflected in the softness of our bodies. Bevere describes how much our culture has devalued being woman because we have attempted to become more manly or at least more androgynous in effort to put an end to the strife between man and woman. I'm convinced that we have devalued looking like a woman also. I am now happy to say that my curves are not only purposed to be visually appealing but are a self-reminder that I am internally complimentary to a man. A man who is not exactly opposite, but is in-fact in need of a counter part, both mentally and physically.
I think about all the different shapes I've seen on a woman, there are probably more variations than I could think of. Like the girl at the boxing gym who you wouldn't know was one until you look above her neck, or my dear friend Megan with her amazingly long legs, or the girl at the pool the other day who was a walking coke-bottle, and then there's me and my fat butt. I am embracing all of these shapes, so please don't get me wrong, but there is something special to embrace about the curves versus the sinew. There is something for me to embrace with confidence in my curves especially.
I am so blessed to be able to fit back into my pre-baby clothes but I'm constantly struggling to fit more comfortably still. So why am I doing this? I may not be a size zero, but I don't think most men want one anyways. According to every guy I've known anywhere from friend to husband, (and had this type of conversation with), my butt is my best feature. They actually like the one part I work so hard to get rid of. Maybe that's because they've been given a natural desire for the curves regardless of what society thinks is "in-shape." I wonder if their nature is to look for someone who is physically different because subconsciously they also want someone mentally and emotionally different and complimentary to themselves. So why are we women so down on ourselves if we're the only ones coming down? Good question, let's stop. If men appreciate the way I look, what a tremendous waste of time for me to do anything but appreciate it also. Thank you, my fat butt, for reminding me of the beauty inside of me.
God was revealing to me that he made woman to look different for a reason, because it compliments all of our non-visual characteristics. For example, the softness in our maternal instincts is reflected in the softness of our bodies. Bevere describes how much our culture has devalued being woman because we have attempted to become more manly or at least more androgynous in effort to put an end to the strife between man and woman. I'm convinced that we have devalued looking like a woman also. I am now happy to say that my curves are not only purposed to be visually appealing but are a self-reminder that I am internally complimentary to a man. A man who is not exactly opposite, but is in-fact in need of a counter part, both mentally and physically.
I think about all the different shapes I've seen on a woman, there are probably more variations than I could think of. Like the girl at the boxing gym who you wouldn't know was one until you look above her neck, or my dear friend Megan with her amazingly long legs, or the girl at the pool the other day who was a walking coke-bottle, and then there's me and my fat butt. I am embracing all of these shapes, so please don't get me wrong, but there is something special to embrace about the curves versus the sinew. There is something for me to embrace with confidence in my curves especially.
I am so blessed to be able to fit back into my pre-baby clothes but I'm constantly struggling to fit more comfortably still. So why am I doing this? I may not be a size zero, but I don't think most men want one anyways. According to every guy I've known anywhere from friend to husband, (and had this type of conversation with), my butt is my best feature. They actually like the one part I work so hard to get rid of. Maybe that's because they've been given a natural desire for the curves regardless of what society thinks is "in-shape." I wonder if their nature is to look for someone who is physically different because subconsciously they also want someone mentally and emotionally different and complimentary to themselves. So why are we women so down on ourselves if we're the only ones coming down? Good question, let's stop. If men appreciate the way I look, what a tremendous waste of time for me to do anything but appreciate it also. Thank you, my fat butt, for reminding me of the beauty inside of me.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Security and Legacy
Last week I was in a very familiar atmosphere known as dysfunction. I am in my mother's house where, under her roof there is more than a few spiritual issues that need to be addressed. She has a heart of gold, and I love her; however, our different faith-journeys have taken us to different levels of spiritual maturity. Also there are other people in her life that add to the complication and conflicts.
I absolutely hate that feeling in the place you call home. Security and spiritual covering is so important to me, especially now with trying to create that for my children. I had, (what I thought was), a very protected environment for them before and now I was back in my mother's house reminiscing on all the old drama we had under this roof growing up. I reached my drama-threshold, felt so trapped, and was ready to run FAST.
A few days later I had calmed down and was available to hear God's voice. I heard lyrics from a song that go, "take control of the atmosphere," and that was God's was of revealing to me that I didn't need to run, I needed him to take control.
Then God started to show me the truth. The truth is that I will never feel like I can provide perfect protection for my girls. There is no perfect place here on earth, no matter where I run. Plus, if I do run, I will run right into an Ishmael, (figuratively speaking). What he said I needed to do was pray his authority and control into the atmosphere around me.
This week it is calming down around here, praise God, and a new subject of concern has arrived; legacy. At Natanya's nap times I spend time chatting with little Mikayla. This week as I sat there tickling her, her first real giggles started to become much more pronounced. At first I smiled, but then my eyes filled up with tears.
I realized, not for the first time, the deep pain of not being able to share these moments with their father. I dug deeper. I don't just want to share them with someone, I want to be recognized and appreciated as the caretaker of someone's precious vessels of their legacy. As a woman, the desire to submit to someone's leadership and vision goes beyond myself and into the desire to train up that person's children to do the same. I sat there for a moment, giving this pain to God. I've learned how important it is to really spend time mourning in those moments what has been lost, instead of trying to replace it quickly with (another) "Ishmael."
Yesterday I talked to my wonderfully anointed little brother who reminded me that I am appreciated for building a legacy, because I am raising up children to carry Jesus' legacy. Then I remembered that I can already see that in work in my very small children. Natanya is only two, but she can actually share the gospel. It goes something like, "Jesus nice, people not nice, Jesus get boo boos, die, crying, three days, alive! YAY happy! no more boo boos! Jesus is God." And she even understands that because of his ability to be healed of his "boo boos" we can also pray to him and be healed of our's. Amazing. So now my prayer is that God will give me an extra boost when I don't receive the more immediate and physical appreciation that a husband and father of my children would normally provide.
I absolutely hate that feeling in the place you call home. Security and spiritual covering is so important to me, especially now with trying to create that for my children. I had, (what I thought was), a very protected environment for them before and now I was back in my mother's house reminiscing on all the old drama we had under this roof growing up. I reached my drama-threshold, felt so trapped, and was ready to run FAST.
A few days later I had calmed down and was available to hear God's voice. I heard lyrics from a song that go, "take control of the atmosphere," and that was God's was of revealing to me that I didn't need to run, I needed him to take control.
Then God started to show me the truth. The truth is that I will never feel like I can provide perfect protection for my girls. There is no perfect place here on earth, no matter where I run. Plus, if I do run, I will run right into an Ishmael, (figuratively speaking). What he said I needed to do was pray his authority and control into the atmosphere around me.
This week it is calming down around here, praise God, and a new subject of concern has arrived; legacy. At Natanya's nap times I spend time chatting with little Mikayla. This week as I sat there tickling her, her first real giggles started to become much more pronounced. At first I smiled, but then my eyes filled up with tears.
I realized, not for the first time, the deep pain of not being able to share these moments with their father. I dug deeper. I don't just want to share them with someone, I want to be recognized and appreciated as the caretaker of someone's precious vessels of their legacy. As a woman, the desire to submit to someone's leadership and vision goes beyond myself and into the desire to train up that person's children to do the same. I sat there for a moment, giving this pain to God. I've learned how important it is to really spend time mourning in those moments what has been lost, instead of trying to replace it quickly with (another) "Ishmael."
Yesterday I talked to my wonderfully anointed little brother who reminded me that I am appreciated for building a legacy, because I am raising up children to carry Jesus' legacy. Then I remembered that I can already see that in work in my very small children. Natanya is only two, but she can actually share the gospel. It goes something like, "Jesus nice, people not nice, Jesus get boo boos, die, crying, three days, alive! YAY happy! no more boo boos! Jesus is God." And she even understands that because of his ability to be healed of his "boo boos" we can also pray to him and be healed of our's. Amazing. So now my prayer is that God will give me an extra boost when I don't receive the more immediate and physical appreciation that a husband and father of my children would normally provide.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Moments
At 5:00pm I made the quick decision to try and quickly rearrange the furniture in Natanya's room to make room for the crib. I was hoping I could do it fast because Nat would start getting hungry for dinner soon. Unfortunately, what I thought would take 15 minutes was going over 45. So I grabbed the girls and headed downstairs to throw some noodles in a pot. Now I was getting close to Mikayla's next feeding time and rushing, which is probably why I dropped a glass bottle of olive oil all over the kitchen floor. Just then, I heard Natanya say, "mommy wet," but I figured a peepee accident could wait 'til I cleaned up this crazy oily mess. However, that oily mess spread all over the place because my instinct to get the glass off the floor fast with a broom neglected the fact that a broom would work against me with the oily issue. Just then, Mikayla started crying in wonder where her milk was. I ran upstairs to get Nat new bottoms, put Kay in the swing with a binky (she was not amused), but then the water in the pot was boiling over. Whatever sweat I had worked up from moving furniture upstairs was just the beginning of the sweaty, oily, and shaking (I get low blood sugar and shake sometimes when I need to eat) mess I was now. I took care of the pot, put the binky back in Kay's mouth, asked Natanya to come get her new clothes on...but she slipped. She didn't have an accident, she said "wet" because she had poured water all over the living room floor. I ran over to comfort her, cleaned up the water, changed her, held her why I poured some sauce over the noodles, sat her in her highchair with a fork, meanwhile getting oil all over my flip flops and dragging it back and forth between rooms. I put the binky back in Kay's mouth again and did the fastest unrolling of paper towels in history. I got most of the oil up, ran back to Mikayla to feed her, and sat there catching my breath for 15 minutes. I went back to finish cleaning up all the oil then heated up some noodles for myself.
As I ate my dinner I said, "wow God," then I smiled and thanked God for the 20 minutes I had earlier to sit in the sun on the hammock.
As I ate my dinner I said, "wow God," then I smiled and thanked God for the 20 minutes I had earlier to sit in the sun on the hammock.
Friday, April 20, 2012
More Powerful Than a Ring
At the bank today, I had to sit down with a banker to order checks. The guy had that look in his eye and immediately started complementing me. The complements kept on coming, "I like your earrings, you smell good, wow you just had a baby?!" I tried to ignore it because I'm not very good at responding well to men who are inappropriate. I usually just get scared and let them say things that cross boundaries and just smile. I really didn't want to end up in another situation where I felt like I was being taken advantage of, even just verbally. And no longer did I have a ring on my finger I could obnoxiously flash around. God, I prayed silently, please protect me.
I've had the same job as the banker before so I wasn't surprised he was asking a million questions, getting really personal, and otherwise "building repor" or so they call it. After asking all those questions, he found something in common with me. Great, I sarcastically thought, he was also in the middle of a divorce. He starting sharing an awful lot about his story and I finally interrupted him and said, "Hey do you have anyone to talk to about this?" He said he had a therapist. I asked if his therapist prayed with him, and he awkwardly replied, "no," before he said, "Hey I live really close, if you ever want to have coffee and talk." I opened my mouth and let God take over. "No," I quickly responded, "You need to be a whole person before you can do that with someone, and so do I. And you need a therapist, or counselor, who prays with you because you and I both know how much pain this is. And you need someone who can identify the hurt, the lie, and the spirit behind that hurt, then kill it and restore you to the truth. God needs you to know the truth; that he loves you and this can and will be used for the good if you let him." I was preaching to myself as the same time. He seemed to quickly relinquish that mysterious power some guys possess when they see a conquest in front of them. Good, I laughed mentally, he's too freaked out by my bold faith now to bother me.
I went home smiling and so thankful that I had something more powerful than a flashing ring to protect me. I had a God who could speak through me with power and authority.
I've had the same job as the banker before so I wasn't surprised he was asking a million questions, getting really personal, and otherwise "building repor" or so they call it. After asking all those questions, he found something in common with me. Great, I sarcastically thought, he was also in the middle of a divorce. He starting sharing an awful lot about his story and I finally interrupted him and said, "Hey do you have anyone to talk to about this?" He said he had a therapist. I asked if his therapist prayed with him, and he awkwardly replied, "no," before he said, "Hey I live really close, if you ever want to have coffee and talk." I opened my mouth and let God take over. "No," I quickly responded, "You need to be a whole person before you can do that with someone, and so do I. And you need a therapist, or counselor, who prays with you because you and I both know how much pain this is. And you need someone who can identify the hurt, the lie, and the spirit behind that hurt, then kill it and restore you to the truth. God needs you to know the truth; that he loves you and this can and will be used for the good if you let him." I was preaching to myself as the same time. He seemed to quickly relinquish that mysterious power some guys possess when they see a conquest in front of them. Good, I laughed mentally, he's too freaked out by my bold faith now to bother me.
I went home smiling and so thankful that I had something more powerful than a flashing ring to protect me. I had a God who could speak through me with power and authority.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Blessing and Cursing
James 3:9-11
New International Version (NIV)
"9 With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. 10 Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. 11 Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring?"
I am being convicted right now. In my last post I was describing how irritating it is to be looked down on because my current circumstances make it easy to judge me. However, the more I thought about,talked about, and recognized all the looks and all the awkward questions, the more I focused on all that negativity. I began to allow the lies about me become a part of me. If I know that God is for me and I know that he thinks highly of me, than that should be all that matters. And I know that the more I believe in who I am based on what he says, the more those lies will go unnoticed or at least the be rendered powerless.
Not only was I allowing myself to take part in cursing myself, I was becoming biter. Thanks to a friend, I read, "1 Pet 4:12-14 (Phi) And now, dear friends of mine, I beg you not to be unduly alarmed at the fiery ordeals which come to test your faith, as though this were some abnormal experience. " I kept thinking, ugh, this is so unfair, and it is! Yet the more I thought about how unfair this all is, the more I thought about how upset I am at the person that has put me here. I want JUSTICE. Then, isn't there a judge here already? For every person, isn't it between them and God? It's true, and so I can't curse any man that is hurting me either. Blessing should only be on my lips for myself, and for anyone else.
"If the cross was all he did for me, it'd be enough," was what a friend said at church last week, and oh was she right. God's promise to redeem my life is already in work, and he will not take advantage of me. I can't compare him to all those that have. He will not lie. He will not trick me. He will not take back his salvation. I can't care about what anyone thinks because God is still God, and the Jesus is still risen.
"If the cross was all he did for me, it'd be enough," was what a friend said at church last week, and oh was she right. God's promise to redeem my life is already in work, and he will not take advantage of me. I can't compare him to all those that have. He will not lie. He will not trick me. He will not take back his salvation. I can't care about what anyone thinks because God is still God, and the Jesus is still risen.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
"I wasn't knocked up, okay?!"
While I was pregnant with Mikayla I was nervous, among other feelings, about taking off my ring because I thought I'd get a lot of judgmental stares. Eventually I had a peace about removing it, but sure enough the looks were ready for me. At all the stores, at the nail salon, and especially the park, I could feel those judging eyes. I just wanted to yell out, "I wasn't knocked up, okay?!" And the judgement hasn't stopped now that I've had the baby. Now there's even more assumption. Like today, when I had to mention the divorce, I get the assumption that I must be with a new baby daddy already because nobody guesses that I was left WHILE I was pregnant. Ok, I wasn't knocked up and I'm not a slut either. And while I'm at it, I'm not an irresponsible woman who didn't use protection, nor am I welfare addict, and I'm not trying to be the next independent octo-mom either.
I guess this is how it's going to be for the next who knows how many years, as I struggle to carry the car seat and hold a toddler's wiggly hand across the street. It will happen when I am having to nurse Mikayla at the park and Natanya suddenly decides to stop obeying instruction. I'll be waiting for it on the days that I don't get a chance to even touch my hair after waking up and I probably smell of spit-up from going a few days without a shower. And when I have two tired babies crying in the grocery cart as I hurry to get what we need as fast as possible, usually having to forgo grabbing more than a few things on the list. Thank you to the few of you out there who grab the door for me on the way out.
As a christian, I believe that we need to look at everyone and see the them the same way God does, with love and through their current situation to the reasons why they're there. But wow, now I know why. We have no idea why people appear the way they do. I really encourage everyone reading this, and especially myself, to really take notice of how you look at people, what you are quick to think about when you see them. If it's not loving, it's not right. Someone you suspect is guilty might actually be suffering, so let's please stop assuming. I can't have it together right now because, right now, it is literally falling apart. In the mean time, I'm going to try and hold my head up and believe that God knows even if they don't.
I guess this is how it's going to be for the next who knows how many years, as I struggle to carry the car seat and hold a toddler's wiggly hand across the street. It will happen when I am having to nurse Mikayla at the park and Natanya suddenly decides to stop obeying instruction. I'll be waiting for it on the days that I don't get a chance to even touch my hair after waking up and I probably smell of spit-up from going a few days without a shower. And when I have two tired babies crying in the grocery cart as I hurry to get what we need as fast as possible, usually having to forgo grabbing more than a few things on the list. Thank you to the few of you out there who grab the door for me on the way out.
As a christian, I believe that we need to look at everyone and see the them the same way God does, with love and through their current situation to the reasons why they're there. But wow, now I know why. We have no idea why people appear the way they do. I really encourage everyone reading this, and especially myself, to really take notice of how you look at people, what you are quick to think about when you see them. If it's not loving, it's not right. Someone you suspect is guilty might actually be suffering, so let's please stop assuming. I can't have it together right now because, right now, it is literally falling apart. In the mean time, I'm going to try and hold my head up and believe that God knows even if they don't.
Mikayla Arrived
I left a LOT out and it's STILL so long! This is a birth story, TMI included, you have been warned...
Mikayla Love Sousa made a dramatic appearance February 22,2012. I'm still shocked that I stayed sane enough to deliver her naturally. On top of the pain of childbirth, I was dealing with the even heavier pain of rejection. How on earth could the man that I had built up such a powerful level of unconditional love for leave me because he believed I didn't love him well, that I never would, and because he'd already found someone else that did? Does the person I loved even exist? Has he ever been real? What have the last five years of my life been for? Answer, two beautiful baby girls. Natanya was conceived while I was on birth control after we'd only been married six months, and Mikayla some how made it into my womb through an IUD. I know that I'm meant to be their mom. I couldn't let their Dad take away the experience I always wanted; to bring a baby into the world by my own perseverance. Regardless of the emotional and spiritual battle I'd been in for months, I called my Doula to get ready to help me get this baby out without drugs.
I figured second kid, so labor should be much faster...wrong. After weeks of false labor, I began timing contractions again at 6:00pm on February 21st. They weren't more then ten minutes apart at first but they didn't stop for over three hours, so I left Natanya at "Nenes." I kept track of contractions for another 3 hours before I decided to ask the Doula to come over. Before she arrived, two of my girl friends got there and we went on a long walk. Megan and I laughed because the other time we went on one of these late-night-labor walks I didn't have to stop and waddle, this time it was real. Lucretia timed the contractions, 4 minutes every time. By this time I had texted, called, and even sent a picture of my contraction-timing sheet to Josh, no reply. My Doula, Katie, arrived and helped me with the contractions that were a little more painful, but for the most part, they weren't progressing in pain-level or quickness. Around 3 am I sent the girls on their way and it was just me and the wonderful Doula...all...night...long. We noticed quickly that my contractions slowed if I sat, so I stood, walked, and squatted THE WHOLE time. By morning my mom jumped in with her way of helping; food, coffee, and more food.
Around 6am I figured it'd be nice to know how much I progressed so we went to the hospital. On the way to the car my mom said something like,"I hope they don't send her home," the thought hadn't even crossed my mind...of course I'm at LEAST 5 centimeters, I'd been in labor for 12 hours already....wrong again. I was 2, yes 2, what I had been at my last Dr's apt. An entire night of labor and literally no progress. Yes, I cried. They gave me two options, go home or break my water. Katie asked me if there was anything emotionally holding me back. She figured something unresolved with the whole divorce thing. No, I was prepared to do this alone. I was sad, of course, but I had been praying a lot about being "ready." But I quickly realized a different mind game was being played. I was 4 days overdue, I had tons of false labor, I was beginning to doubt my body's ability to do it. I sat up on the hospital bed and pulled it together. "I'm going to trust God," I said, "lets go home."
When we got back home it was 9am and we went on another long walk. Up and down the neighborhood's hills, my mom, Katie, and I went. We discussed in depth how much labor is like our walk with God, and especially the current challenge in my faith; not fearing, trusting him, and letting go of control. By 12pm I decided to do the thing I was previously fearing most, rest. I said, "ok God, I really need sleep, I'm not going to fear that this will suddenly stop my labor and I'll be pregnant for ever." I actually did fall asleep! I woke up an hour later, walked around a bit and realized my contractions were still the same in time and pain as the whole time before. So I figured I'd given it 110% it was time to get a little God-given medical help. I woke Katie up and told her I wanted to back and have them break my water. By this time Josh had called and said he wanted to come the next day. I didn't want him there for the labor because I knew it would be too emotionally challenging to see him and give birth without drugs. He knew that, but I still thought he'd get there as quickly as possible and hold her as soon as she was born.
At 2:30 pm my water was broken. I stood up and BOOM there was that level of pain I was looking for. Katie and I walked the halls for a few hours, I had to hold onto something and groan with each contraction. I tried to make it to the end of the hall each time, but sometimes I stopped right in front of the nurses at the desk. I hoped they weren't too grossed out. All the other moms that day must have been quietly enjoying their sweet little epidurals. My legs and feet became so sore and I just could not be on them anymore. I got on the bed standing on my knees and leaning onto the top of the bed (that was upright and shaped more like a chair at this time). I rested my head and arms on the bed and swayed my hips, trying to keep gravity on my side, this is when things began to get ugly.
By this time I had long passed the pain level that I decided to have an epidural with Natanya's labor. All of the sudden I felt an immense pressure and I almost dipped as if to stop the baby from falling out, (obviously that wasn't going to happen but the feeling of her dropping was so strong). The nurse checked me, I was 7 centimeters. I was OVER IT. "I won't be mad" I said to my mom and Katie. They had to ask me what I meant but I could barely get more than a word or two out at a time, "epidural,"..."I'm so tired." But within 15 or 20 minutes I learned that it was too late. I was dilating too fast and I was relieved. I was going to do this! I was going to actually give birth the way I wanted to! I could endure this pain, just like I could endure the pain of losing so much in my life the months prior. This was a pain that I needed to endure to get to something greater, a baby. Just like the pain of my husbands decision to leave, I had to work through it because I couldn't control it. Perseverance builds character and hope, and the outcome is "a new thing."
At 6pm I was fully dilated and ready to push, but my doctor wasn't there yet. They couldn't find her for 15 minutes. I would have been upset but I was in the middle of trying to figure out how to not scream. My arms were flailing, I couldn't breathe, the "heeheehoohoo" thing did have a purpose after all 'cause without it I could have passed out from not taking in any oxygen. Now that's pain, too painful to talk, too painful to breathe, too painful to focus on pushing her out. Most of the time I could only let out a scream as I felt the pain take over my body. The doctor got there and the nurse said sternly, "ok, no more screaming, push your baby out, focus!" I did it! I focused on the pain, I embarrassed it, I felt Mikayla come out in two more pushes, head, than shoulders. She was born at 6:27pm. Over 24 hours of labor! Woo!
"Oh baby baby baby" I said to my beautiful girl. Wow, how much I loved her in that instant. I found myself saying, "I can't believe she's really here!" I guess I still had a little doubts about my being able to do it, but that's where God comes in. His peace and his presence, his help through my mom and Katie, and his love for me got her out too.
Mikayla Love Sousa. She is such a beautiful baby. Nursing is going much better this time around. Sleep is too, but she's still a new born and I'm still raising two children under the age of 2 without a partner. It's not easy, but I have learned; trust God, do not fear. I still look at her sometimes in disbelief that she really is here. I didn't have the time to obsess about her like I did with Natanya's pregnancy. Mikayla just came regardless of the circumstances around her, and she will continue to overcome all her life. I'm still praying that God teaches me to be the best mom these girls could ever have. There's a lot of pain to work through still, but I keep my trust in the fact that God is doing a new thing.
Mikayla Love Sousa made a dramatic appearance February 22,2012. I'm still shocked that I stayed sane enough to deliver her naturally. On top of the pain of childbirth, I was dealing with the even heavier pain of rejection. How on earth could the man that I had built up such a powerful level of unconditional love for leave me because he believed I didn't love him well, that I never would, and because he'd already found someone else that did? Does the person I loved even exist? Has he ever been real? What have the last five years of my life been for? Answer, two beautiful baby girls. Natanya was conceived while I was on birth control after we'd only been married six months, and Mikayla some how made it into my womb through an IUD. I know that I'm meant to be their mom. I couldn't let their Dad take away the experience I always wanted; to bring a baby into the world by my own perseverance. Regardless of the emotional and spiritual battle I'd been in for months, I called my Doula to get ready to help me get this baby out without drugs.
I figured second kid, so labor should be much faster...wrong. After weeks of false labor, I began timing contractions again at 6:00pm on February 21st. They weren't more then ten minutes apart at first but they didn't stop for over three hours, so I left Natanya at "Nenes." I kept track of contractions for another 3 hours before I decided to ask the Doula to come over. Before she arrived, two of my girl friends got there and we went on a long walk. Megan and I laughed because the other time we went on one of these late-night-labor walks I didn't have to stop and waddle, this time it was real. Lucretia timed the contractions, 4 minutes every time. By this time I had texted, called, and even sent a picture of my contraction-timing sheet to Josh, no reply. My Doula, Katie, arrived and helped me with the contractions that were a little more painful, but for the most part, they weren't progressing in pain-level or quickness. Around 3 am I sent the girls on their way and it was just me and the wonderful Doula...all...night...long. We noticed quickly that my contractions slowed if I sat, so I stood, walked, and squatted THE WHOLE time. By morning my mom jumped in with her way of helping; food, coffee, and more food.
Around 6am I figured it'd be nice to know how much I progressed so we went to the hospital. On the way to the car my mom said something like,"I hope they don't send her home," the thought hadn't even crossed my mind...of course I'm at LEAST 5 centimeters, I'd been in labor for 12 hours already....wrong again. I was 2, yes 2, what I had been at my last Dr's apt. An entire night of labor and literally no progress. Yes, I cried. They gave me two options, go home or break my water. Katie asked me if there was anything emotionally holding me back. She figured something unresolved with the whole divorce thing. No, I was prepared to do this alone. I was sad, of course, but I had been praying a lot about being "ready." But I quickly realized a different mind game was being played. I was 4 days overdue, I had tons of false labor, I was beginning to doubt my body's ability to do it. I sat up on the hospital bed and pulled it together. "I'm going to trust God," I said, "lets go home."
When we got back home it was 9am and we went on another long walk. Up and down the neighborhood's hills, my mom, Katie, and I went. We discussed in depth how much labor is like our walk with God, and especially the current challenge in my faith; not fearing, trusting him, and letting go of control. By 12pm I decided to do the thing I was previously fearing most, rest. I said, "ok God, I really need sleep, I'm not going to fear that this will suddenly stop my labor and I'll be pregnant for ever." I actually did fall asleep! I woke up an hour later, walked around a bit and realized my contractions were still the same in time and pain as the whole time before. So I figured I'd given it 110% it was time to get a little God-given medical help. I woke Katie up and told her I wanted to back and have them break my water. By this time Josh had called and said he wanted to come the next day. I didn't want him there for the labor because I knew it would be too emotionally challenging to see him and give birth without drugs. He knew that, but I still thought he'd get there as quickly as possible and hold her as soon as she was born.
At 2:30 pm my water was broken. I stood up and BOOM there was that level of pain I was looking for. Katie and I walked the halls for a few hours, I had to hold onto something and groan with each contraction. I tried to make it to the end of the hall each time, but sometimes I stopped right in front of the nurses at the desk. I hoped they weren't too grossed out. All the other moms that day must have been quietly enjoying their sweet little epidurals. My legs and feet became so sore and I just could not be on them anymore. I got on the bed standing on my knees and leaning onto the top of the bed (that was upright and shaped more like a chair at this time). I rested my head and arms on the bed and swayed my hips, trying to keep gravity on my side, this is when things began to get ugly.
By this time I had long passed the pain level that I decided to have an epidural with Natanya's labor. All of the sudden I felt an immense pressure and I almost dipped as if to stop the baby from falling out, (obviously that wasn't going to happen but the feeling of her dropping was so strong). The nurse checked me, I was 7 centimeters. I was OVER IT. "I won't be mad" I said to my mom and Katie. They had to ask me what I meant but I could barely get more than a word or two out at a time, "epidural,"..."I'm so tired." But within 15 or 20 minutes I learned that it was too late. I was dilating too fast and I was relieved. I was going to do this! I was going to actually give birth the way I wanted to! I could endure this pain, just like I could endure the pain of losing so much in my life the months prior. This was a pain that I needed to endure to get to something greater, a baby. Just like the pain of my husbands decision to leave, I had to work through it because I couldn't control it. Perseverance builds character and hope, and the outcome is "a new thing."
At 6pm I was fully dilated and ready to push, but my doctor wasn't there yet. They couldn't find her for 15 minutes. I would have been upset but I was in the middle of trying to figure out how to not scream. My arms were flailing, I couldn't breathe, the "heeheehoohoo" thing did have a purpose after all 'cause without it I could have passed out from not taking in any oxygen. Now that's pain, too painful to talk, too painful to breathe, too painful to focus on pushing her out. Most of the time I could only let out a scream as I felt the pain take over my body. The doctor got there and the nurse said sternly, "ok, no more screaming, push your baby out, focus!" I did it! I focused on the pain, I embarrassed it, I felt Mikayla come out in two more pushes, head, than shoulders. She was born at 6:27pm. Over 24 hours of labor! Woo!
"Oh baby baby baby" I said to my beautiful girl. Wow, how much I loved her in that instant. I found myself saying, "I can't believe she's really here!" I guess I still had a little doubts about my being able to do it, but that's where God comes in. His peace and his presence, his help through my mom and Katie, and his love for me got her out too.
Mikayla Love Sousa. She is such a beautiful baby. Nursing is going much better this time around. Sleep is too, but she's still a new born and I'm still raising two children under the age of 2 without a partner. It's not easy, but I have learned; trust God, do not fear. I still look at her sometimes in disbelief that she really is here. I didn't have the time to obsess about her like I did with Natanya's pregnancy. Mikayla just came regardless of the circumstances around her, and she will continue to overcome all her life. I'm still praying that God teaches me to be the best mom these girls could ever have. There's a lot of pain to work through still, but I keep my trust in the fact that God is doing a new thing.
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