I hope this post publishes correctly since I've never completed one from my iPad before. If you've kept up with my blog this week you know that it's been pretty eventful for the Carnetts. I'm sitting next to Ethan as he lies in his hospital bed at St. John's. He was kicked out of PICU this afternoon so that was good news and he's continuing to improve.
Yesterday Lindy took Ethan to Urgent Care due to non stop coughing stemming from his allergies. He was having some major respiratory issues and the decision was made to take him to St. John's via ambulance. I had stayed home due to my major cramping issues which I mentioned in the previous post. When Lindy called to let me know about Ethan I was in the shower and Jac told me. If you know me well, you'll find this part of the story astounding. I drove with wet hair and no makeup from the north end of O'Fallon to St. John's and I BEAT THE AMBULANCE THERE!! The driving fast part shouldn't surprise you but the arriving at the hospital with a clean face and wet hair should. I also had Lindy yelling at me over the phone as I drove to the hospital telling me to go back home. Yeah, right. He had me on house arrest on Friday and only let me drive a mile from our house to get a pedicure with Jac along as my chaperone. However, this Mama Grizzly was not going to let any level of pain or discomfort keep me from my child. You Moms know what I mean.
When Ethan finally arrived with Lindy close behind Ethan was calm as could be. I felt horrible that I hadn't ridden with him in the ambulance but he just smiled and waved at me. He was probably a little disoriented at seeing me in my unheard of condition in a public place but he was just the picture of calm. He was a sick little boy, made more clear as the hours passed. He was in the ER for several hours getting breathing treatments continuously to try to keep his oxygen level up. He had to wear an uncomfortable mask yet never complained and he was awake and alert the whole time. He had the pleasure of having a new graduate nurse try out her IV starting skills and blood drawing skills on him. In the end it took 2 nurses to get his IV started and later 3 nurses to stick him to draw blood. Not one tear or ounce of whining. He did throw up during the IV process because he was watching, and Jac astutely pointed out that he must take after me. Thanks, Jac. Sad, but true. Part of his compliance with all of this poking and prodding might have been because all the nurses were young and pretty. I told them that he has a thing for pretty nurses. He didn't remember much at all from his ski accident in February but he could tell you the nurses' names.
After they determined that Ethan was going to spend the night in PICU he just continued to be a trooper. He liked his room and was glad to have his Mom and Dad with him. He continued on with the uncomfortable mask for hours on end, he had to use a urinal due to all his tubes and wires and still never complained. He has thrown up 4 times during this hospital stay, likely due to all the Albuterol coursing through his system yet after the third time he told me that this is why he could never work in a hospital--he doesn't want to have to clean up other people's vomit. He even had enough of his wits about him to fake vomiting once while holding his basin and saying "False alarm.". Not funny, Wire Boy. I texted my brother tonight to tell him that Ethan reminds me so much of how he would have reacted at 8 years old to the same situation, no tears, no whining, no complaining, etc. His response back was, "We like to think of ourselves as immortal, Ethan and I, but we're just flesh and blood. It's hard for us to let you see us this way, susceptible to common human ailments.". Yep, that's my brother.
I have to just add in here that when it came to who was staying with Ethan last night I was proud of Lindy. My feet were firmly planted here and there's no way I was leaving. Lindy had already planned to stay the night and have his Dad preach for him today, but he started having second thoughts last night about 10:00. If you know anything about living with a pastor you know that missing church on a Sunday is a big deal but missing church on Easter Sunday is practically a cataclysmic event. I knew Lindy was concerned for his Dad, as was I, as he hadn't been feeling well himself on Saturday. I told Lindy that if he felt he needed to go for his Dad's sake then I was OK with that, but if he was doing it out of a sense of obligation then we were going to have words. If you read my previous post you know that one of the themes was Lindy laying down the law about how they could get by without me at my work. Well, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. We both know that all of our church people love us and understand that sometimes family just has to come first and when you have a kid in PICU then it's one of those times--Easter Sunday or not. He ended up listening to my voice of reason...or was it my threatening voice reminding him of his own words? Either way I believe he made the right choice and they had a fabulous service today without the pastor, his wife, or the middle child. The only thing Ethan has come close to complaining about was missing church today. He wanted to dress up and be the kid to find the matzah. (you actually have to go to our church to get that).
Ethan is in a regular room now and is doing so great. We are hopeful that he might be discharged tomorrow but he has to be completely weaned from the oxygen and only on the breathing treatments every 4 hours. He'll be going home on an inhaler and another new medication. He was tested today to see exactly what he's allergic to and we will get back those tests in a few days. I've tried to focus on the health of my dear middle son and not the cost of his second ambulance ride this year, his second ER visit, his stay in the PICU, etc. Each time the nurse has said, "I'll go get him another dose of Zofran". ( an expensive nausea medicine) all I've heard in my head is Cha-ching!! The bright side is that we have insurance and we met our deductible with his last incident so we will only pay 25% of this bill!! Yea!! Just one more reason for me to avoid surgery for myself if possible. Still no end result there, by the way, but God answered my prayer and I had no cramping today. Praise God!
On the way home today to take a shower I told Jac that we are having him measured for bubble wrap because I need at least one kid who's not in need of emergency medical care. He started fake coughing for my benefit. Not funny. Gavin is doing much better and Grammy has continued with his breathing treatments and Prednisone. My parents are coming to visit tomorrow to help Lindy's parents with picking up all our pitiful pieces. The best part of this has been getting to spend some quality time with my middle son and feeling the outpouring of love and compassion for our family during this Holy week. It is still a Holy week, by the way, and Jesus is still risen, no matter our circumstances. He loves us and cares for us like no other can and He is the author and finisher of our faith and our Prince of Peace. Turn to Him in the midst of life's challenges and He will be your all in all.
Summer 2012
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
So, No One Ever Told Me About THIS Part...
I've been thinking this week about all the girlfriends and family members I have who have experienced a miscarriage at some point in their lives. There have been a lot of them. After all, my doctor told me on Monday when he was comforting me with statistics that 15-25% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. It's not a highly unusual thing, but in all my years I only remember hearing stories relating to the tremendous emotional pain that accompanies a miscarriage. At no time can I ever remember anyone telling me that trying to have a miscarriage on your own without the assistance of surgery is PAINFUL!! I don't know why I never thought there would be much pain. I especially figured the pain would be minimal since my baby was so tiny when I lost him or her. Not so, my friend. The cramping wasn't too bad between Sunday and Tuesday but Wednesday morning at work I was only moderately functional. I even tried lying down for a while with no relief. What seemed to work best was keeping the Ibuprofen flowing and sitting at my desk with a firm pillow pressed against my abdomen. Yesterday was a repeat of the same except I was at home and decided I would still try to put away laundry, sort laundry, start a new load, etc. This resulted in me being light-headed and faint. I did have the wherewithal to call Lindy and let him know. It was really just a courtesy call since I was caring for our child and wanted him to know in case I did, in fact, faint and left Gavin there to fend for himself.
That phone call was the beginning of the ending to my insistence that I could carry on with business as usual--miscarriage or not. He insisted that I call the doctor and let him know how I was feeling. While I was waiting to hear back from the doctor my mother just so happens to call while I'm lying down trying to get over being lightheaded. When she found out my condition and that I was trying to do laundry and had errands to run later, she read me the riot act as only a mother can. "Robin, you are not fine. You are losing a BABY and you can't carry on as if nothing is happening!! You are not going to work tomorrow. If I have to have Lindy tie you down you are not running errands, going to work or anything else." Of course, that phone call ended and the next call was from Lindy. "Robin, you are not going to work tomorrow!" Me: "Did my mother just call you?" Yes, of course she did and they had the same discussion they have regarding me about every six months or so. I'm stubborn, no one can talk any sense into me, I'm going to do what I want to do regardless of what anyone else says, etc. etc. etc. You get the idea. Not long after that my doctor's office calls and he's insisting that I come in and be checked out to see if I have passed the baby yet. My first instinct was that I could drive myself, but having just been read the riot act by the two people who have the most impact, I called Lindy and told him he was going to have to drive me. I didn't think he wanted me driving myself and I was right. So, we go to the doctor and find that I have not yet passed the baby in spite of all the pain and other symptoms. He told me one of two things would happen this weekend. I would cramp terribly, have other symptoms and call begging for a D&C or I would cramp terribly, have other symptoms and pass the baby. I told him the Ibuprofen wasn't cutting it and I needed something stronger. He gave me some Vicodin.
So, I let my boss, Carrie, know that I wouldn't be in today; and honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she received a call from either Lindy or my Mom or both telling her that I was not allowed to come to work today. Maybe you're wondering why I'm so stubborn about going to work and continuing on with business as usual. I do recognize that life does go on without me and I know Cheryl and Tracie are more than capable without me there (yes, I do believe that, girls) but I felt there were things that really required my attention this week. I needed to write an Action Plan and get our ship turned in the right direction, but our whole team has just as much ownership and capability as I do. I just have an overreaching sense of responsibility and accountability and don't ever want to slack off or seem like I need special treatment. I do not like drama in my life and prefer when I can just pretend that everything is OK and continue on with all of my responsibilities at home and at work. I also do not like using my PDO (paid days off) for illness instead of vacation. This really sounds loo loo when I tell you that I'm maxed out on my PDO and I need to use some so that I can continue accruing. I know, I know.... I'm so crazy about this that two years ago in May, when I had the worst case of bilateral pink eye you've ever seen, I called Tracie to ask her to bring me to work. I couldn't open my eyes to the sunlight so I couldn't drive but I thought if I could just get there I could still work with my blinds closed, lights off, and sunglasses on. She told me I had lost my mind, she was not coming to get me, and she shouted at me, "Stay home!! You are staying home! I'm not coming to get you." Thanks, Tracie, I needed the voice of reality because, obviously, I wasn't listening to my husband who had already refused to take me to work.
It made me crazy yesterday that I didn't get to the grocery store or any other errands. Sunday is Easter, after all!! I hadn't told Lindy yet that I was planning on cooking for his family on Sunday and had planned to get a ham and everything to go with it. Once he found out that was part of my agenda in my attempt to carry on with life as normal, he absolutely said I could not to do it.
Today, Friday, I find myself sitting up in my bed typing on Lindy's laptop--still in my jammies, not allowed to carry laundry, put away laundry or go anywhere. Lindy went to the grocery store. Pray that he doesn't come back with crazy stuff--mainly fancy cheese and crackers. That's the kind of food he likes to buy. If you're wondering if the Vicodin helped out with the cramps this morning, it really didn't. Took the edge off, maybe. But, I was still in bed for hours with my hot pack and trying to distract myself by reading. This was after I was out of bed paying bills on my iPad, de-cluttering the kitchen, giving Gavin a breathing treatment.... Did I mention that Lindy had to take Gavin to the ER last night at around 10:45 because he was having retractions and couldn't catch his breath with all the coughing? Oh, yeah. That's going on too. When it rains, it pours around here. He has allergies that can turn into bronchospasms, and when the breathing treatments weren't working last night and I knew he needed Prednisone, our only option was the ER.
Just another week in the life of the Carnetts. We'll get through it. We have our risen Savior, prescription medicine, and each other. :) All will turn out fine. I'm hopeful that by Sunday morning I'll be OK. If you think my life doesn't stop during the week, it really doesn't stop on Sunday and it's Resurrection Sunday. I don't have time for the pain. (I think that's a song). Unfortunately, it seems my cramping is holding to the morning hours and after it resolves--if I don't overdo it--the cramps go away.
I hope everyone has a wonderful Easter, and you all remember that Jesus is the Reason for this Season too.
That phone call was the beginning of the ending to my insistence that I could carry on with business as usual--miscarriage or not. He insisted that I call the doctor and let him know how I was feeling. While I was waiting to hear back from the doctor my mother just so happens to call while I'm lying down trying to get over being lightheaded. When she found out my condition and that I was trying to do laundry and had errands to run later, she read me the riot act as only a mother can. "Robin, you are not fine. You are losing a BABY and you can't carry on as if nothing is happening!! You are not going to work tomorrow. If I have to have Lindy tie you down you are not running errands, going to work or anything else." Of course, that phone call ended and the next call was from Lindy. "Robin, you are not going to work tomorrow!" Me: "Did my mother just call you?" Yes, of course she did and they had the same discussion they have regarding me about every six months or so. I'm stubborn, no one can talk any sense into me, I'm going to do what I want to do regardless of what anyone else says, etc. etc. etc. You get the idea. Not long after that my doctor's office calls and he's insisting that I come in and be checked out to see if I have passed the baby yet. My first instinct was that I could drive myself, but having just been read the riot act by the two people who have the most impact, I called Lindy and told him he was going to have to drive me. I didn't think he wanted me driving myself and I was right. So, we go to the doctor and find that I have not yet passed the baby in spite of all the pain and other symptoms. He told me one of two things would happen this weekend. I would cramp terribly, have other symptoms and call begging for a D&C or I would cramp terribly, have other symptoms and pass the baby. I told him the Ibuprofen wasn't cutting it and I needed something stronger. He gave me some Vicodin.
So, I let my boss, Carrie, know that I wouldn't be in today; and honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she received a call from either Lindy or my Mom or both telling her that I was not allowed to come to work today. Maybe you're wondering why I'm so stubborn about going to work and continuing on with business as usual. I do recognize that life does go on without me and I know Cheryl and Tracie are more than capable without me there (yes, I do believe that, girls) but I felt there were things that really required my attention this week. I needed to write an Action Plan and get our ship turned in the right direction, but our whole team has just as much ownership and capability as I do. I just have an overreaching sense of responsibility and accountability and don't ever want to slack off or seem like I need special treatment. I do not like drama in my life and prefer when I can just pretend that everything is OK and continue on with all of my responsibilities at home and at work. I also do not like using my PDO (paid days off) for illness instead of vacation. This really sounds loo loo when I tell you that I'm maxed out on my PDO and I need to use some so that I can continue accruing. I know, I know.... I'm so crazy about this that two years ago in May, when I had the worst case of bilateral pink eye you've ever seen, I called Tracie to ask her to bring me to work. I couldn't open my eyes to the sunlight so I couldn't drive but I thought if I could just get there I could still work with my blinds closed, lights off, and sunglasses on. She told me I had lost my mind, she was not coming to get me, and she shouted at me, "Stay home!! You are staying home! I'm not coming to get you." Thanks, Tracie, I needed the voice of reality because, obviously, I wasn't listening to my husband who had already refused to take me to work.
It made me crazy yesterday that I didn't get to the grocery store or any other errands. Sunday is Easter, after all!! I hadn't told Lindy yet that I was planning on cooking for his family on Sunday and had planned to get a ham and everything to go with it. Once he found out that was part of my agenda in my attempt to carry on with life as normal, he absolutely said I could not to do it.
Today, Friday, I find myself sitting up in my bed typing on Lindy's laptop--still in my jammies, not allowed to carry laundry, put away laundry or go anywhere. Lindy went to the grocery store. Pray that he doesn't come back with crazy stuff--mainly fancy cheese and crackers. That's the kind of food he likes to buy. If you're wondering if the Vicodin helped out with the cramps this morning, it really didn't. Took the edge off, maybe. But, I was still in bed for hours with my hot pack and trying to distract myself by reading. This was after I was out of bed paying bills on my iPad, de-cluttering the kitchen, giving Gavin a breathing treatment.... Did I mention that Lindy had to take Gavin to the ER last night at around 10:45 because he was having retractions and couldn't catch his breath with all the coughing? Oh, yeah. That's going on too. When it rains, it pours around here. He has allergies that can turn into bronchospasms, and when the breathing treatments weren't working last night and I knew he needed Prednisone, our only option was the ER.
Just another week in the life of the Carnetts. We'll get through it. We have our risen Savior, prescription medicine, and each other. :) All will turn out fine. I'm hopeful that by Sunday morning I'll be OK. If you think my life doesn't stop during the week, it really doesn't stop on Sunday and it's Resurrection Sunday. I don't have time for the pain. (I think that's a song). Unfortunately, it seems my cramping is holding to the morning hours and after it resolves--if I don't overdo it--the cramps go away.
I hope everyone has a wonderful Easter, and you all remember that Jesus is the Reason for this Season too.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Rejoice in the Lord...Always.
The last ten days have been a test of patience and my ability to really put my money where my mouth is when it comes to trusting God. After all, as my Dad says, "Talk is Cheap." I had the wonderful opportunity to go to Oklahoma City this weekend with a fabulous group of ladies from my church. We had an amazing time at the Women of Joy conference with 9000 other ladies and every little bit of the trip was good, with the exception of some telltale signs that something probably wasn't right with my pregnancy. Nevertheless, I was determined to go on and be joyful no matter what and truly enjoy the time with new and old friends. I had such a peace the whole weekend and reminded God several times that I was trusting Him. I always have, why would I stop now? There were moments of hilarity and moments where tears were shed while listening to the speakers. On the last morning with Karen Kingsbury when she asked us to all hold hands while she read her children's book about cherishing all the "lasts" with your children, I said to my friends on either side, "This is the last time I'm crying on this trip." I'm not much of a crier and I have to remind myself sometimes that a good cry can be very cleansing. There were certainly more tears of laughter this weekend than sadness. I wouldn't trade my experience this weekend for anything. It prepared my heart for what was to come this morning.
I went for my scheduled ultrasound and had Lindy on my arm this time. If you need some background as to why I was having an ultrasound, then you'll have to go back and read the previous post. I needed Lindy's presence although we were pretty silent. Neither one of us had words to say and we had both spent the last ten days being pretty cautious while trusting God. As soon as the nurse started the ultrasound I had my answer...this baby was not meant to be. I'm supposed to be nearly 11 weeks now and there was still no growth. The baby was still at 5 1/2 weeks and now the sac was irregularly shaped. I didn't shed a tear until the nurse left and I sat on Lindy's lap and had a bit of a cry. We spoke with my doctor in his office and I told him I'm so warped that I was feeling bad for him for having to give bad news to us. I know that sounds crazy, but when you work in hospice and you know how bad it feels to share bad news you end up having compassion for the person who has to share the news. He's been my doctor for 15 years and he was very kind and sincere. He gave me all the statistics and data that I thrive on--I'm "Statistics Barbie," after all. I've opted at this point to see if I can complete this miscarriage naturally since this pregnancy was in such an early stage and, hopefully, avoid surgery. I told my doctor that I feel bad for being sad because I have three healthy boys at home and many women suffer the pain of miscarriage after miscarriage without getting to hold that baby in their arms. He still gave me permission to be sad. I've allotted myself one day of sadness, then I'll pick myself up and move on.
I went back to work for a while after leaving the doctor and Lindy was really perplexed about this. What he doesn't understand is that my co-workers are some of my closest peeps and they have experienced this with me and I knew they would be a great source of comfort. I was right and I appreciate each one of them and all of their kind words. Several of them had even prayed for me when they learned the news with which I was coming back to the office.
One of my biggest concerns when I thought of the possibility of losing this baby was telling my three boys that the little brother or sister they were praying for was not going to grow in their Mom's belly and come to live with us. What I forgot is that they are our boys and they have their own sense of peace and the ability to trust God on their level. Lindy was very helpful when it came to telling them. He told Jac by himself, then Jac came to me and told me he knew. I was tearful while talking to him and when I had expressed to him all that I wanted to say I asked him how he felt. He said, "Well, I knew this factor was always a possibility." I laughed and said back to him, "You are definitely my child, very matter-of-fact and analytical." Ethan reacted within his own personality. His way is to be completely silent and to search your eyes intently so that he knows how to gauge his reaction. I told him that this did not mean there was anything at all wrong with his Mom and I would be OK. I smiled and looked in his eyes with the peace that's been so overwhelming throughout this situation and all was right in his world. He gave me a hug and went to play outside. Gavin thought he was getting a present when I told him his Dad had something to tell him. (Maybe we spoil our kids too much. I doubt it). Lindy explained to him what had happened and while his expression went from expectant to concerned to acceptance he immediately went to the only question that mattered to him, "Are you going to have another, different baby?" It's too raw and too soon to even begin that decision-making process, so I told him we would have to wait and see. In the meantime this baby is in heaven with GG (his great grandmother) and he will meet him or her one day. He only asked me another seven times.
So, my concerns were all for naught. Jesus really loves the children as I repeatedly mentioned in this post. Thanks to all my friends who knew this was on my heart and prayed for me in this situation.
Earlier, before I knew there was a concern with this pregnancy I had mentioned that I would be publishing a post about my conversations with Gavin about his soon-to-come baby brother or sister. I've decided to go ahead and share it with you as I probably will move on after this and not publish much about this going forward. So, here you go....
This was a conversation with Gavin on the way home from Grammy's house. I was 7 weeks pregnant and the news was not common knowledge yet to our church or my co-workers. Gavin was privy to this sensitive information and was having some issues with keeping the secret. I had already caught him 3 times at church trying to tell different people but, fortunately, no one bought it coming from Gavin. It's quite a challenge for a 5-year-old to keep a secret such as this.
Gavin: I've been thinking about the baby's name again. (He had previously suggested Charlie for a girl and Brick for a boy). I think we should name the baby Selena Gomez if it's a girl, but we can change the Gomez to Carnett. I still think it should be Brick for a boy.
Me: Good suggestions, Gavin. We'll keep working on the name.
Gavin: When the baby gets here I'm going to hit it.
Me: Hit the baby? Why would you want to do that?
Gavin: Ethan said I should.
Me: Gavin, you can't listen to everything Ethan tells you to do. He was probably joking.
Gavin: Well, Ethan's the boss. (That's an unusual, and inaccurate, statement coming from Gavin).
Gavin: How did that baby get in your belly? Did you swallow it?
Me: Ummm...no. (Long pause while I'm thinking about this one. I handled this one before from a curious 5-year-old when I was pregnant with Jac). Well, Gavin, when Mommies and Daddies love each other very much they can make babies.
Gavin: Did you know I prayed for a baby brother or sister? I was sitting in the dining room when I was praying about it.
Me: No, I didn't know that. I guess God must have answered your prayer.
Gavin: Or Santa Claus...All I know is that this baby better be a girl. We've got enough boys around here.
A few days later after the discussion of how the baby got in my belly, it naturally led to the discussion of...how was this baby going to get out of my belly. His guesses were my mouth or my bottom--the latter being a pretty good guess but not quite right. Thankfully, Gavin was born via C-section so I told him that the doctor had cut him out of my belly. That distracted him enough by leading him to all the questions about whether that hurt or not. He didn't go back to any further thoughts on how that baby was going to get out.
I'll close this post by letting you know that God's timing is perfect in all things. The awe-inspiring assurance of His perfect timing has been on my heart for a long time. Even before all of this happened I had decided God's timing would be my chosen topic for when Lindy hands the pulpit over to me on Mother's Day. God's going to give me the grace to share what He wants me to say on that special day, even with this experience so very fresh in my heart. You're welcome to come if you live in the area and you don't have a church home. More information can be found at www.myrestorationchurch.org. That's right, this time I gave a plug for my church. It's still my blog, I'll plug if I want to. :)
My sincere appreciation to all of you who have commented on my blog, on Facebook, in person, via e-mail, text message, etc. and have given me words of love and encouragement. You'll never know how much it has meant.
Love to all....
I went for my scheduled ultrasound and had Lindy on my arm this time. If you need some background as to why I was having an ultrasound, then you'll have to go back and read the previous post. I needed Lindy's presence although we were pretty silent. Neither one of us had words to say and we had both spent the last ten days being pretty cautious while trusting God. As soon as the nurse started the ultrasound I had my answer...this baby was not meant to be. I'm supposed to be nearly 11 weeks now and there was still no growth. The baby was still at 5 1/2 weeks and now the sac was irregularly shaped. I didn't shed a tear until the nurse left and I sat on Lindy's lap and had a bit of a cry. We spoke with my doctor in his office and I told him I'm so warped that I was feeling bad for him for having to give bad news to us. I know that sounds crazy, but when you work in hospice and you know how bad it feels to share bad news you end up having compassion for the person who has to share the news. He's been my doctor for 15 years and he was very kind and sincere. He gave me all the statistics and data that I thrive on--I'm "Statistics Barbie," after all. I've opted at this point to see if I can complete this miscarriage naturally since this pregnancy was in such an early stage and, hopefully, avoid surgery. I told my doctor that I feel bad for being sad because I have three healthy boys at home and many women suffer the pain of miscarriage after miscarriage without getting to hold that baby in their arms. He still gave me permission to be sad. I've allotted myself one day of sadness, then I'll pick myself up and move on.
I went back to work for a while after leaving the doctor and Lindy was really perplexed about this. What he doesn't understand is that my co-workers are some of my closest peeps and they have experienced this with me and I knew they would be a great source of comfort. I was right and I appreciate each one of them and all of their kind words. Several of them had even prayed for me when they learned the news with which I was coming back to the office.
One of my biggest concerns when I thought of the possibility of losing this baby was telling my three boys that the little brother or sister they were praying for was not going to grow in their Mom's belly and come to live with us. What I forgot is that they are our boys and they have their own sense of peace and the ability to trust God on their level. Lindy was very helpful when it came to telling them. He told Jac by himself, then Jac came to me and told me he knew. I was tearful while talking to him and when I had expressed to him all that I wanted to say I asked him how he felt. He said, "Well, I knew this factor was always a possibility." I laughed and said back to him, "You are definitely my child, very matter-of-fact and analytical." Ethan reacted within his own personality. His way is to be completely silent and to search your eyes intently so that he knows how to gauge his reaction. I told him that this did not mean there was anything at all wrong with his Mom and I would be OK. I smiled and looked in his eyes with the peace that's been so overwhelming throughout this situation and all was right in his world. He gave me a hug and went to play outside. Gavin thought he was getting a present when I told him his Dad had something to tell him. (Maybe we spoil our kids too much. I doubt it). Lindy explained to him what had happened and while his expression went from expectant to concerned to acceptance he immediately went to the only question that mattered to him, "Are you going to have another, different baby?" It's too raw and too soon to even begin that decision-making process, so I told him we would have to wait and see. In the meantime this baby is in heaven with GG (his great grandmother) and he will meet him or her one day. He only asked me another seven times.
So, my concerns were all for naught. Jesus really loves the children as I repeatedly mentioned in this post. Thanks to all my friends who knew this was on my heart and prayed for me in this situation.
Earlier, before I knew there was a concern with this pregnancy I had mentioned that I would be publishing a post about my conversations with Gavin about his soon-to-come baby brother or sister. I've decided to go ahead and share it with you as I probably will move on after this and not publish much about this going forward. So, here you go....
This was a conversation with Gavin on the way home from Grammy's house. I was 7 weeks pregnant and the news was not common knowledge yet to our church or my co-workers. Gavin was privy to this sensitive information and was having some issues with keeping the secret. I had already caught him 3 times at church trying to tell different people but, fortunately, no one bought it coming from Gavin. It's quite a challenge for a 5-year-old to keep a secret such as this.
Gavin: I've been thinking about the baby's name again. (He had previously suggested Charlie for a girl and Brick for a boy). I think we should name the baby Selena Gomez if it's a girl, but we can change the Gomez to Carnett. I still think it should be Brick for a boy.
Me: Good suggestions, Gavin. We'll keep working on the name.
Gavin: When the baby gets here I'm going to hit it.
Me: Hit the baby? Why would you want to do that?
Gavin: Ethan said I should.
Me: Gavin, you can't listen to everything Ethan tells you to do. He was probably joking.
Gavin: Well, Ethan's the boss. (That's an unusual, and inaccurate, statement coming from Gavin).
Gavin: How did that baby get in your belly? Did you swallow it?
Me: Ummm...no. (Long pause while I'm thinking about this one. I handled this one before from a curious 5-year-old when I was pregnant with Jac). Well, Gavin, when Mommies and Daddies love each other very much they can make babies.
Gavin: Did you know I prayed for a baby brother or sister? I was sitting in the dining room when I was praying about it.
Me: No, I didn't know that. I guess God must have answered your prayer.
Gavin: Or Santa Claus...All I know is that this baby better be a girl. We've got enough boys around here.
A few days later after the discussion of how the baby got in my belly, it naturally led to the discussion of...how was this baby going to get out of my belly. His guesses were my mouth or my bottom--the latter being a pretty good guess but not quite right. Thankfully, Gavin was born via C-section so I told him that the doctor had cut him out of my belly. That distracted him enough by leading him to all the questions about whether that hurt or not. He didn't go back to any further thoughts on how that baby was going to get out.
I'll close this post by letting you know that God's timing is perfect in all things. The awe-inspiring assurance of His perfect timing has been on my heart for a long time. Even before all of this happened I had decided God's timing would be my chosen topic for when Lindy hands the pulpit over to me on Mother's Day. God's going to give me the grace to share what He wants me to say on that special day, even with this experience so very fresh in my heart. You're welcome to come if you live in the area and you don't have a church home. More information can be found at www.myrestorationchurch.org. That's right, this time I gave a plug for my church. It's still my blog, I'll plug if I want to. :)
My sincere appreciation to all of you who have commented on my blog, on Facebook, in person, via e-mail, text message, etc. and have given me words of love and encouragement. You'll never know how much it has meant.
Love to all....
Monday, April 11, 2011
This Was NOT the Next Post That I Wanted to Write...
Not only did I not want to write about it, I didn't even want many people to know about it. This was not something I desired my tens of readers to be privy to, but sometimes I have to look beyond what I want and remember the purpose behind my blog. My purpose is not to portray this wonderful life without trials or challenges. My purpose is to be real and transparent and encourage and uplift others while they are experiencing life's trials by sharing my own challenges and how God alone is meeting my needs.
Does it usually appear that everything is going my way? Of course it does and that's not by accident. I purposely choose to see the positive in everyone and everything, I am definitely a "glass half full" person and I approach everyone as if they have pure, and not ulterior, motives. Maybe this makes me naive. If it does, then I am naive. I am content with this life of contentment, regardless of my circumstances.
Given all of that, it's still easier for me to write about things that are funny or memorable. As a pastor's wife it's easy for me to portray this life of contentment--and it isn't an act. I am truly blessed but it doesn't mean that I don't go through hard times too...it's just difficult for me to admit it. This is going to be another transparent post, so I hope you'll stay with me and not move on to watching funny youtube videos.
My last post talked all about how I am pregnant with our fourth child. Once the anxiety of telling everyone was over it was really sunshine and lollipops last week. Then, I went Friday for what I imagined would be a routine ultrasound. I was 9 weeks according to my calculations but my doctor wanted to verify my due date with an ultrasound since my cycles were irregular when I conceived. So, I went in all nonchalant about it, by myself, at 8:00 in the morning and was thoroughly perplexed and concerned when I found out that my 9 week pregnancy appears to look like a 5 1/2 week pregnancy on the ultrasound. That's a pretty big discrepancy and not something I've ever experienced before as I've only had 20 week ultrasounds up until this point. The ultrasound nurse was pretty evasive about it, as expected, and told me that my doctor would look at the pictures and call me that afternoon. She left me alone for a minute and when she came back I asked her if I should prepare myself for a possible miscarriage. She told me that it was too soon to be concerned with that, especially if I wasn't having any cramping or other signs of a miscarriage.
When I got in my car I did the first thing that always comes natural to me when I don't know what else to do. I started praying. I told God what I was feeling and that I knew that He was the Creator of all things and He knew about this baby before the beginning of time. He knew Lindy and I had prayed for His will in our lives and that we would continue to trust in Him no matter what. I felt bad for Lindy because when I called him I was having a hard time putting it all in words and I was just sure he was thinking I was calling to tell him that we were having twins. I am not, but it seems that even that would be better news rather than this reality. We both called our mothers to fill them in and then I told my fellow nurses at work. They are fabulous at always telling me exactly what I want to hear, I'm sure sometimes to my detriment, and they said that everything is going to be fine. Nothing to worry about. Still, it's easy to get caught up in fear, doubt, and worry; isn't it?
I hadn't planned on sharing this with many other people, but of course, when you are newly pregnant everyone asks about you, how you're doing, how far along you are, etc. That "how far along are you" question has suddenly become a bit of a dilemma for me. I almost feel myself wanting to put a "kind of" on the end of the sentence when I talk about being pregnant. Of course you can't really be "kind of" pregnant, but when your baby is 3 1/2 weeks smaller than it should be at this point it kind of feels like you're kind of pregnant. In the midst of these thoughts, I still had one feeling that overtook all the others...peace. The kind of peace that only God can bring and that he promises His children if we only put our trust in Him.
Friday night as I was lying in bed going to sleep I was praying and felt God speak to me. He said, "Do you trust in my Word?" (The Bible). I told him yes. He asked me if I speak the Word over my body. (I answered yes. I do and I have for a long time. Since I've been pregnant I've spoken the Word over our "bodies" and I speak against any sickness, disease, syndrome, or malformation that could come upon this baby. I don't just pray it. I speak it out). God said to me that night, "Then, I am bound to honor my Word." You see, the Bible isn't just a book. It's the living, breathing Word of God and we can depend on His promises. Hearing God give me that affirmation only made my peace abound all the more.
Saturday we went through our busy day as if nothing was unusual. Sunday morning, even though Lindy never tells me what He's going to preach I was right on when I guessed what it might be. He alluded to what we are going through but didn't come out and say it. If you ever wonder if pastors are preaching to themselves sometimes, the answer to that is a resounding yes. They also preach comfort and peace to their wives too. He preached on one of my favorite passages of Scripture--Proverbs 3:1-6. The part that struck me, of course, was verse 5 where it says, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding." It's easy to trust Him when everything is going along swimmingly. Not as easy when there are unanswered questions and cause for anxiety in our human, finite minds. The part that really stood out to me though on Sunday morning was the second part of that verse, "...and lean not on your own understanding." You see as a nurse I try to understand anything medical with my knowledge of the human body. My understanding as a nurse of a 9 week ultrasound with a baby at the size he or she should be at 5 1/2 weeks tells me that the baby isn't growing properly or that the baby stopped growing 3 weeks ago and my body hasn't figured it out yet. However, if I put my trust in the Lord and determine not to lean on my own understanding then I have to acknowledge that He is the Creator of all things and He is still in the miracle-working business. He cares for every living thing, and yes, I believe a tiny little microscopic embryo is a living thing. That passage goes on to say in verse 6, "in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight." I know that He is going to make our paths straight in this situation. We love the Lord and Romans 8:28 promises that "in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." He's bound to honor His Word because He promised to and He keeps His promises. Lindy didn't use that last verse. That was a bonus from me. If you are interested in hearing a sermon that will bring you peace and encouragement, then I suggest you go to www.myrestorationchurch.org and click on the podcast link. Yesterday's sermon will be posted by tomorrow at noon. Yes, that's a shameless plug for my husband and his fabulous sermonizing. It's my blog, I'll plug if I want to. :) It's your choice how to spend the 45 minutes or so it would take to listen to it.
Now, of course you know that in the midst of this I did some googling to get other people's opinions about this situation even though I know God is still in control. I've learned to throw out the bad and hold on to the good when it comes to looking things up on the internet. Back in the day before the internet when I only had my enormous nursing textbooks I went to the doctor because I was always diagnosing myself with one thing or another when I was in nursing school. He encouraged me to put away the textbooks and "Stop it!!!" I know a lot of doctors and nurses who wish medical information wasn't so easily accessed via their patients' fingertips or by watching Dateline NBC. Anyway, while googling, I found several people's experiences with this same dilemma and the babies turned out perfectly fine. I threw out the ones that weren't as positive. The one I liked the most was a girl who said she was nine weeks along when she had an ultrasound and the baby was the size she should be at 6 weeks--just an empty gestational sac. They were alarmed as well, but she was proud to say that they just celebrated their "empty sac's" first birthday. Fabulous!!
I don't know why we go through some things in life, but as long as I'm going through something like this I might as well be transparent and, hopefully, bring some peace or encouragement to someone else. Trust me, it would have been much easier for me to just remain silent for the next week and then act as if there was never any concern. If I were to admit to any fear beyond something wrong with the baby or the possibility of losing the baby, then it would be having to tell three little boys that the little brother or sister they are praying for is not to be. They don't read my blog and they don't know anything about this. If you would like to keep Lindy and me in prayer over the next week then we would appreciate that. If you want to leave me a comment and tell me that everything is going to be OK, then I'm cool with that too. I'm having a repeat ultrasound on Monday morning, the 18th, so I will be sure to share the good report at that time.
I pray this week is a week of peace, abundant blessing, and favor for you.
Love to all...
Does it usually appear that everything is going my way? Of course it does and that's not by accident. I purposely choose to see the positive in everyone and everything, I am definitely a "glass half full" person and I approach everyone as if they have pure, and not ulterior, motives. Maybe this makes me naive. If it does, then I am naive. I am content with this life of contentment, regardless of my circumstances.
Given all of that, it's still easier for me to write about things that are funny or memorable. As a pastor's wife it's easy for me to portray this life of contentment--and it isn't an act. I am truly blessed but it doesn't mean that I don't go through hard times too...it's just difficult for me to admit it. This is going to be another transparent post, so I hope you'll stay with me and not move on to watching funny youtube videos.
My last post talked all about how I am pregnant with our fourth child. Once the anxiety of telling everyone was over it was really sunshine and lollipops last week. Then, I went Friday for what I imagined would be a routine ultrasound. I was 9 weeks according to my calculations but my doctor wanted to verify my due date with an ultrasound since my cycles were irregular when I conceived. So, I went in all nonchalant about it, by myself, at 8:00 in the morning and was thoroughly perplexed and concerned when I found out that my 9 week pregnancy appears to look like a 5 1/2 week pregnancy on the ultrasound. That's a pretty big discrepancy and not something I've ever experienced before as I've only had 20 week ultrasounds up until this point. The ultrasound nurse was pretty evasive about it, as expected, and told me that my doctor would look at the pictures and call me that afternoon. She left me alone for a minute and when she came back I asked her if I should prepare myself for a possible miscarriage. She told me that it was too soon to be concerned with that, especially if I wasn't having any cramping or other signs of a miscarriage.
When I got in my car I did the first thing that always comes natural to me when I don't know what else to do. I started praying. I told God what I was feeling and that I knew that He was the Creator of all things and He knew about this baby before the beginning of time. He knew Lindy and I had prayed for His will in our lives and that we would continue to trust in Him no matter what. I felt bad for Lindy because when I called him I was having a hard time putting it all in words and I was just sure he was thinking I was calling to tell him that we were having twins. I am not, but it seems that even that would be better news rather than this reality. We both called our mothers to fill them in and then I told my fellow nurses at work. They are fabulous at always telling me exactly what I want to hear, I'm sure sometimes to my detriment, and they said that everything is going to be fine. Nothing to worry about. Still, it's easy to get caught up in fear, doubt, and worry; isn't it?
I hadn't planned on sharing this with many other people, but of course, when you are newly pregnant everyone asks about you, how you're doing, how far along you are, etc. That "how far along are you" question has suddenly become a bit of a dilemma for me. I almost feel myself wanting to put a "kind of" on the end of the sentence when I talk about being pregnant. Of course you can't really be "kind of" pregnant, but when your baby is 3 1/2 weeks smaller than it should be at this point it kind of feels like you're kind of pregnant. In the midst of these thoughts, I still had one feeling that overtook all the others...peace. The kind of peace that only God can bring and that he promises His children if we only put our trust in Him.
Friday night as I was lying in bed going to sleep I was praying and felt God speak to me. He said, "Do you trust in my Word?" (The Bible). I told him yes. He asked me if I speak the Word over my body. (I answered yes. I do and I have for a long time. Since I've been pregnant I've spoken the Word over our "bodies" and I speak against any sickness, disease, syndrome, or malformation that could come upon this baby. I don't just pray it. I speak it out). God said to me that night, "Then, I am bound to honor my Word." You see, the Bible isn't just a book. It's the living, breathing Word of God and we can depend on His promises. Hearing God give me that affirmation only made my peace abound all the more.
Saturday we went through our busy day as if nothing was unusual. Sunday morning, even though Lindy never tells me what He's going to preach I was right on when I guessed what it might be. He alluded to what we are going through but didn't come out and say it. If you ever wonder if pastors are preaching to themselves sometimes, the answer to that is a resounding yes. They also preach comfort and peace to their wives too. He preached on one of my favorite passages of Scripture--Proverbs 3:1-6. The part that struck me, of course, was verse 5 where it says, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding." It's easy to trust Him when everything is going along swimmingly. Not as easy when there are unanswered questions and cause for anxiety in our human, finite minds. The part that really stood out to me though on Sunday morning was the second part of that verse, "...and lean not on your own understanding." You see as a nurse I try to understand anything medical with my knowledge of the human body. My understanding as a nurse of a 9 week ultrasound with a baby at the size he or she should be at 5 1/2 weeks tells me that the baby isn't growing properly or that the baby stopped growing 3 weeks ago and my body hasn't figured it out yet. However, if I put my trust in the Lord and determine not to lean on my own understanding then I have to acknowledge that He is the Creator of all things and He is still in the miracle-working business. He cares for every living thing, and yes, I believe a tiny little microscopic embryo is a living thing. That passage goes on to say in verse 6, "in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight." I know that He is going to make our paths straight in this situation. We love the Lord and Romans 8:28 promises that "in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." He's bound to honor His Word because He promised to and He keeps His promises. Lindy didn't use that last verse. That was a bonus from me. If you are interested in hearing a sermon that will bring you peace and encouragement, then I suggest you go to www.myrestorationchurch.org and click on the podcast link. Yesterday's sermon will be posted by tomorrow at noon. Yes, that's a shameless plug for my husband and his fabulous sermonizing. It's my blog, I'll plug if I want to. :) It's your choice how to spend the 45 minutes or so it would take to listen to it.
Now, of course you know that in the midst of this I did some googling to get other people's opinions about this situation even though I know God is still in control. I've learned to throw out the bad and hold on to the good when it comes to looking things up on the internet. Back in the day before the internet when I only had my enormous nursing textbooks I went to the doctor because I was always diagnosing myself with one thing or another when I was in nursing school. He encouraged me to put away the textbooks and "Stop it!!!" I know a lot of doctors and nurses who wish medical information wasn't so easily accessed via their patients' fingertips or by watching Dateline NBC. Anyway, while googling, I found several people's experiences with this same dilemma and the babies turned out perfectly fine. I threw out the ones that weren't as positive. The one I liked the most was a girl who said she was nine weeks along when she had an ultrasound and the baby was the size she should be at 6 weeks--just an empty gestational sac. They were alarmed as well, but she was proud to say that they just celebrated their "empty sac's" first birthday. Fabulous!!
I don't know why we go through some things in life, but as long as I'm going through something like this I might as well be transparent and, hopefully, bring some peace or encouragement to someone else. Trust me, it would have been much easier for me to just remain silent for the next week and then act as if there was never any concern. If I were to admit to any fear beyond something wrong with the baby or the possibility of losing the baby, then it would be having to tell three little boys that the little brother or sister they are praying for is not to be. They don't read my blog and they don't know anything about this. If you would like to keep Lindy and me in prayer over the next week then we would appreciate that. If you want to leave me a comment and tell me that everything is going to be OK, then I'm cool with that too. I'm having a repeat ultrasound on Monday morning, the 18th, so I will be sure to share the good report at that time.
I pray this week is a week of peace, abundant blessing, and favor for you.
Love to all...
Thursday, April 7, 2011
You're Pregnant? Seriously? I Thought You Said You Were Just Having "My Three Sons"
So, I'm pregnant and the word is officially out now. The most common reaction from friends and family has been shock and amazement. I can't say that I blame them since I have always contended that I would only have three kids. I never saw myself as a Mom of four, but I guess when you open your heart to what else God might have for you rather than the perfectly planned-out life that you have set up for yourself, plans can change. Before you think this baby was a surprise, think again. Due to my advanced maternal age this baby actually took longer to...initiate...than the other three combined. You're probably thinking now, "What? You actually planned to have a baby after Gavin started kindergarten." Not exactly, but that's the way God's perfect timing is working in this situation. Let me go back in time a little bit for you to give a better explanation.
If you're looking for a tangible reason for this change in my heart your finger could be pointed down to one person. Her name is Grace and she is 2 1/2 years old. Here's a picture of her.
My husband might not have put two and two together yet but I have. You see, Grace's parents came to our church as our Student Ministries pastors when Grace was only about a month old. We interviewed them when Dawn was great with child about 6 weeks before Grace was born. I'll be honest, and it's nothing against Grace, but I was not nearly as enamored with her as someone else. I was still holding strong to my belief that God had given me three healthy boys and I would be content, and was content, to be their Mom. Lindy, on the other hand, was smitten. And so started the endless procession of people coming to me with, "You know Pastor Lindy would like to have another baby, don't you?" or "Pastor Lindy just loves little Grace. I think he would like to have a little girl." This went on for about a year or more and I never took anyone seriously. I was still holding hard and fast to My Three Sons. Grace's parents didn't help matters because they both said they just knew I would have another baby. Of course, this is coming from two people who only have two kids and only will have two kids--unless God plans different. I had even tried to broach the subject with Lindy about doing something to permanently fix the possibility of having more kids. He wouldn't hear of it. After multiple excuses, eventually the reason he gave was that he was too young for that. OK...yeah.
So, on we went with him hinting around and me very closed to the idea until last summer. I had lunch with my good friend Crista, who just so happens to also be one of my employees. Crista is a counselor and she also counsels me, maybe unwittingly, when we go to lunch. You see, when you're a pastor's wife and expected to be the one with all the answers you need someone like Crista in your life to talk to and help you find answers. I don't remember our exact discussion but I know by this point I was considering it but only if this baby would be born prior to August 1, 2011. What?? (That's the cut-off date for school enrollment in Missouri and I was only interested in having another baby if it meant he or she would be able to start school in five years instead of six. I know, I'm crazy neurotic). Crista just casually mentioned, "Well, that doesn't give you much time does it--about 4-5 months." At that moment, since I had put this stipulation on conception timing I knew it was now or never. I was the poster child for fertility having conceived Gavin after only one month, so I figured once I told Lindy it would happen pretty fast. When it didn't happen in 4-5 months and I mentioned to Lindy that we had reached my deadline, he said, "Well, you said that was your deadline. That didn't mean I agreed to it." I went back and told Crista and she reminded me that maybe this wasn't about my timeframe. Maybe there's a reason why God would give me this last child in His timing and not mine.
I should stop here and say that coming to this decision was not easy for several reasons. I never thought I would have a baby after 35 and I'm a...few years beyond 35. In addition to that, I have battled the inner ear problem that I mentioned in this transparent post that started when Gavin was a toddler. (By the way, I am doing fabulous with it and have only had one bad equilibrium episode in the last 6 months and for the past four weeks I have had almost no ringing in my left ear. I can even talk on the phone with my left ear and that is huge). There was also the hurdle to get past of "starting over." My boys are pretty self-sufficient, Gavin is fully potty-trained and starting school in the fall, and now we're going to go back to nighttime feedings and chasing a baby? You understand. The women reading my blog will also understand my hesitance to go back to gaining all that weight again. Yikes! I'm not one of those cute pregnant women who just have a little basketball in front. I get pregnant everywhere and losing the weight has gotten harder, not easier, with each pregnancy. I lost every pound after Jac in 2 1/2 weeks. It was not to be repeated after Ethan and Gavin.
Even given all of those reasons, the most difficult hurdle to get past had less to do with anything physical and everything to do with something very emotional. You see, I had always imagined that I would have at least one girl. Growing up, I was very girly and dreamed of one day having my own little girl. My Mom and I have always had a wonderful relationship and I wanted to have that with a daughter of my own. When we found out Jac was going to be a boy it was OK, because we fully intended on having more children. When I had my ultrasound and learned Ethan was on his way it took me about three days to accept it. The turning point was looking at all of Jac's little baby clothes and thinking how fun it would be to have another little boy to wear them. You knew it had to have something to do with clothes, didn't you? If Ethan had been a girl I might not have been as willing to have another baby. When it came to getting pregnant with Gavin I waited until I was at the place that I truly wanted another baby. I didn't want to get pregnant just with the intention of having a girl. I was at that place...or so I thought until I had the ultrasound. My parents were there with us (this was a first) and when I found out he was going to be a boy I laid on the table silently crying. Of course, I was thrilled that he was healthy, but learning that he was a boy was, to me, the death of my dream of having a little blonde-headed daughter because the personal limit I had set was three babies. That night at home I mainly stayed in my room with my mother and mother-in-law coming and going and grieving with me. I understand that in being transparent about my feelings this may evoke some harsh judgment from some people. If you are in a place of having fertility issues then you're probably saying, "Cry me a river, will you?? You're upset that you have three healthy boys??" I totally get that, and even in the moment, part of my grief was the guilt over being so very selfish as to be sad over having three healthy boys. All I can say is I'm sorry and I understand where you're coming from. I have an old friend, Tracy, and we used to work together. She had, at the time, a 2-year-old little boy named Joe. She had Joe before we started working together and I didn't have any children at that point. Tracy and I shared an office and she told me the story of when she was pregnant with Joe. At her 20-week ultrasound Tracy was told she was having a girl. She was overjoyed. It was her first baby. She had baby showers and was given everything pink. They decorated the nursery in pink and were preparing to have little Caroline (I hope I remember the name right, and I love that name). A week before she was to give birth she found that Caroline was not really Caroline. Caroline was going to be a boy who they would name Joe. Tracy told me that she really went through a time of grieving for the little girl she had lost. Even though she hadn't really lost a baby and this couldn't really ever be compared to losing a baby, she grieved still over the loss of the idea of having a girl. She had Joe and loved him to pieces. She went on to have another boy named Jack and now they are both in high school. I know she wouldn't trade either one for a million girls just like I wouldn't trade my boys for girls. I love each one of them so much and my idea that another boy would be just more of the same was so wrong. They are each unique and special in their own way.
So, this grief over closing the door to ever fulfilling my dream of having a girl didn't end in just one day. It would come in waves throughout my pregnancy. One wave came one morning when I was getting ready for work. I was weeping so much that I couldn't put on my makeup. I'll tell you, that has never happened before or since. Nothing keeps me from putting on my makeup. I didn't tell Lindy what was going on because I don't think he could really understand what I was going through. I drove to work, weeping, with my makeup in hand. The person I turned to at work was the last person you would think I should turn to but the only person I wanted to see. Another friend and employee, Margaret, was my designated shoulder to cry on. Even in the midst of all my tears I was still apologizing to Margaret for putting all of this on her because she had wanted to have children and it was not something that ever happened for her and her husband. She and her husband are actively involved in their church and have lots of "kids" with their youth group. I felt guilty, but Margaret was as kind and comforting as she always is in any situation. She is such a dear friend and related to my grief in a way most people wouldn't. Just yesterday she came to me and we talked about that day. She told me that if I have that moment again this time around, she wants to be that shoulder again. What a friend. Everyone should have a friend like that.
So, now you know all my reasons for not wanting to have another baby. My heart eventually did heal and when Gavin arrived he was welcomed with open arms. I still avoided girl clothes in stores, but I was ready for a third boy. I love Gavin to pieces, although when he was about three years old and I was putting him down for a nap while he was really giving me fits, I thought to myself, "This child might not live to see the age of four and Lindy wants to go through all of this again???"
Given all of those reasons, why would I agree to another baby? Well, let's just say that my husband is very charismatic and I adore him. He was convinced that another baby was a good idea. In the end, I decided that I would at least not prevent it and let God decide--not "let God decide"--Duggar-style--but just for this last one. In the beginning I was relieved each month when it was not to be, but over time God worked on my heart and the relief began to change to disappointment. That's when I was more confident that maybe this might be a good thing. Still, no one knew except for Crista that another Carnett could be a possibility. I thought someone might guess when they read the end of this post about my love story with Lindy, no one did. You might pick up on it if you read it again. I was already pregnant, and knew it, when I wrote that post. I also know that I can have real issues with control and things going the way I think they should. Having another baby is completely outside my frame of reference for what I thought my life would be at this age, but maybe that's another way that God is showing me once again that His way is perfect, not mine, and I should rest in Him knowing that His ways are higher than my ways. Also, the night we announced to our families we were expecting--which just so happened to be the 20th anniversary of the day Lindy and I met--my Mom told me something I had never known. Her grandmother, my great grandmother, was 40 years old when my grandmother was born. She was the last of nine children. It struck me that none of us in my Mom's family would be here, including my own children, if my great grandmother hadn't had that last baby at the age of 40.
I promise this blog is not going to turn into your standard pregnancy blog--not that there's anything wrong with that. I enjoy reading my friend Stephanie's blog that is all about her first pregnancy and I've learned a lot from reading. She actually had me considering cloth diapering, just for a moment. I've been down this road before and I'm an old pro after four, not Michelle Duggar type of old pro, but I kind of know what to expect. My blog won't turn into a pregnancy play-by-play. I will post anything that I think is funny, memorable, poignant, or touching. Soon to come is a post on recent conversations with Gavin about his soon-coming baby brother or sister. It's on the funny side.
Thanks for reading and to everyone, especially Carrie, for being so amazingly supportive. All our friends and family are very excited--at least on the outside. They might be messing with me and chatting about the old pregnant lady behind my back, but either way baby is on the way. Ultrasound tomorrow to determine the official due date. I was 9 weeks along yesterday so in another week I'll be 25% of the way through this pregnancy. (Margaret calls me "Statistics Barbie" so I had to throw that in). We're hoping for an 11/11/11 birthdate.
More later. Love to all....
If you're looking for a tangible reason for this change in my heart your finger could be pointed down to one person. Her name is Grace and she is 2 1/2 years old. Here's a picture of her.
My husband might not have put two and two together yet but I have. You see, Grace's parents came to our church as our Student Ministries pastors when Grace was only about a month old. We interviewed them when Dawn was great with child about 6 weeks before Grace was born. I'll be honest, and it's nothing against Grace, but I was not nearly as enamored with her as someone else. I was still holding strong to my belief that God had given me three healthy boys and I would be content, and was content, to be their Mom. Lindy, on the other hand, was smitten. And so started the endless procession of people coming to me with, "You know Pastor Lindy would like to have another baby, don't you?" or "Pastor Lindy just loves little Grace. I think he would like to have a little girl." This went on for about a year or more and I never took anyone seriously. I was still holding hard and fast to My Three Sons. Grace's parents didn't help matters because they both said they just knew I would have another baby. Of course, this is coming from two people who only have two kids and only will have two kids--unless God plans different. I had even tried to broach the subject with Lindy about doing something to permanently fix the possibility of having more kids. He wouldn't hear of it. After multiple excuses, eventually the reason he gave was that he was too young for that. OK...yeah.
So, on we went with him hinting around and me very closed to the idea until last summer. I had lunch with my good friend Crista, who just so happens to also be one of my employees. Crista is a counselor and she also counsels me, maybe unwittingly, when we go to lunch. You see, when you're a pastor's wife and expected to be the one with all the answers you need someone like Crista in your life to talk to and help you find answers. I don't remember our exact discussion but I know by this point I was considering it but only if this baby would be born prior to August 1, 2011. What?? (That's the cut-off date for school enrollment in Missouri and I was only interested in having another baby if it meant he or she would be able to start school in five years instead of six. I know, I'm crazy neurotic). Crista just casually mentioned, "Well, that doesn't give you much time does it--about 4-5 months." At that moment, since I had put this stipulation on conception timing I knew it was now or never. I was the poster child for fertility having conceived Gavin after only one month, so I figured once I told Lindy it would happen pretty fast. When it didn't happen in 4-5 months and I mentioned to Lindy that we had reached my deadline, he said, "Well, you said that was your deadline. That didn't mean I agreed to it." I went back and told Crista and she reminded me that maybe this wasn't about my timeframe. Maybe there's a reason why God would give me this last child in His timing and not mine.
I should stop here and say that coming to this decision was not easy for several reasons. I never thought I would have a baby after 35 and I'm a...few years beyond 35. In addition to that, I have battled the inner ear problem that I mentioned in this transparent post that started when Gavin was a toddler. (By the way, I am doing fabulous with it and have only had one bad equilibrium episode in the last 6 months and for the past four weeks I have had almost no ringing in my left ear. I can even talk on the phone with my left ear and that is huge). There was also the hurdle to get past of "starting over." My boys are pretty self-sufficient, Gavin is fully potty-trained and starting school in the fall, and now we're going to go back to nighttime feedings and chasing a baby? You understand. The women reading my blog will also understand my hesitance to go back to gaining all that weight again. Yikes! I'm not one of those cute pregnant women who just have a little basketball in front. I get pregnant everywhere and losing the weight has gotten harder, not easier, with each pregnancy. I lost every pound after Jac in 2 1/2 weeks. It was not to be repeated after Ethan and Gavin.
Even given all of those reasons, the most difficult hurdle to get past had less to do with anything physical and everything to do with something very emotional. You see, I had always imagined that I would have at least one girl. Growing up, I was very girly and dreamed of one day having my own little girl. My Mom and I have always had a wonderful relationship and I wanted to have that with a daughter of my own. When we found out Jac was going to be a boy it was OK, because we fully intended on having more children. When I had my ultrasound and learned Ethan was on his way it took me about three days to accept it. The turning point was looking at all of Jac's little baby clothes and thinking how fun it would be to have another little boy to wear them. You knew it had to have something to do with clothes, didn't you? If Ethan had been a girl I might not have been as willing to have another baby. When it came to getting pregnant with Gavin I waited until I was at the place that I truly wanted another baby. I didn't want to get pregnant just with the intention of having a girl. I was at that place...or so I thought until I had the ultrasound. My parents were there with us (this was a first) and when I found out he was going to be a boy I laid on the table silently crying. Of course, I was thrilled that he was healthy, but learning that he was a boy was, to me, the death of my dream of having a little blonde-headed daughter because the personal limit I had set was three babies. That night at home I mainly stayed in my room with my mother and mother-in-law coming and going and grieving with me. I understand that in being transparent about my feelings this may evoke some harsh judgment from some people. If you are in a place of having fertility issues then you're probably saying, "Cry me a river, will you?? You're upset that you have three healthy boys??" I totally get that, and even in the moment, part of my grief was the guilt over being so very selfish as to be sad over having three healthy boys. All I can say is I'm sorry and I understand where you're coming from. I have an old friend, Tracy, and we used to work together. She had, at the time, a 2-year-old little boy named Joe. She had Joe before we started working together and I didn't have any children at that point. Tracy and I shared an office and she told me the story of when she was pregnant with Joe. At her 20-week ultrasound Tracy was told she was having a girl. She was overjoyed. It was her first baby. She had baby showers and was given everything pink. They decorated the nursery in pink and were preparing to have little Caroline (I hope I remember the name right, and I love that name). A week before she was to give birth she found that Caroline was not really Caroline. Caroline was going to be a boy who they would name Joe. Tracy told me that she really went through a time of grieving for the little girl she had lost. Even though she hadn't really lost a baby and this couldn't really ever be compared to losing a baby, she grieved still over the loss of the idea of having a girl. She had Joe and loved him to pieces. She went on to have another boy named Jack and now they are both in high school. I know she wouldn't trade either one for a million girls just like I wouldn't trade my boys for girls. I love each one of them so much and my idea that another boy would be just more of the same was so wrong. They are each unique and special in their own way.
So, this grief over closing the door to ever fulfilling my dream of having a girl didn't end in just one day. It would come in waves throughout my pregnancy. One wave came one morning when I was getting ready for work. I was weeping so much that I couldn't put on my makeup. I'll tell you, that has never happened before or since. Nothing keeps me from putting on my makeup. I didn't tell Lindy what was going on because I don't think he could really understand what I was going through. I drove to work, weeping, with my makeup in hand. The person I turned to at work was the last person you would think I should turn to but the only person I wanted to see. Another friend and employee, Margaret, was my designated shoulder to cry on. Even in the midst of all my tears I was still apologizing to Margaret for putting all of this on her because she had wanted to have children and it was not something that ever happened for her and her husband. She and her husband are actively involved in their church and have lots of "kids" with their youth group. I felt guilty, but Margaret was as kind and comforting as she always is in any situation. She is such a dear friend and related to my grief in a way most people wouldn't. Just yesterday she came to me and we talked about that day. She told me that if I have that moment again this time around, she wants to be that shoulder again. What a friend. Everyone should have a friend like that.
So, now you know all my reasons for not wanting to have another baby. My heart eventually did heal and when Gavin arrived he was welcomed with open arms. I still avoided girl clothes in stores, but I was ready for a third boy. I love Gavin to pieces, although when he was about three years old and I was putting him down for a nap while he was really giving me fits, I thought to myself, "This child might not live to see the age of four and Lindy wants to go through all of this again???"
Given all of those reasons, why would I agree to another baby? Well, let's just say that my husband is very charismatic and I adore him. He was convinced that another baby was a good idea. In the end, I decided that I would at least not prevent it and let God decide--not "let God decide"--Duggar-style--but just for this last one. In the beginning I was relieved each month when it was not to be, but over time God worked on my heart and the relief began to change to disappointment. That's when I was more confident that maybe this might be a good thing. Still, no one knew except for Crista that another Carnett could be a possibility. I thought someone might guess when they read the end of this post about my love story with Lindy, no one did. You might pick up on it if you read it again. I was already pregnant, and knew it, when I wrote that post. I also know that I can have real issues with control and things going the way I think they should. Having another baby is completely outside my frame of reference for what I thought my life would be at this age, but maybe that's another way that God is showing me once again that His way is perfect, not mine, and I should rest in Him knowing that His ways are higher than my ways. Also, the night we announced to our families we were expecting--which just so happened to be the 20th anniversary of the day Lindy and I met--my Mom told me something I had never known. Her grandmother, my great grandmother, was 40 years old when my grandmother was born. She was the last of nine children. It struck me that none of us in my Mom's family would be here, including my own children, if my great grandmother hadn't had that last baby at the age of 40.
I promise this blog is not going to turn into your standard pregnancy blog--not that there's anything wrong with that. I enjoy reading my friend Stephanie's blog that is all about her first pregnancy and I've learned a lot from reading. She actually had me considering cloth diapering, just for a moment. I've been down this road before and I'm an old pro after four, not Michelle Duggar type of old pro, but I kind of know what to expect. My blog won't turn into a pregnancy play-by-play. I will post anything that I think is funny, memorable, poignant, or touching. Soon to come is a post on recent conversations with Gavin about his soon-coming baby brother or sister. It's on the funny side.
Thanks for reading and to everyone, especially Carrie, for being so amazingly supportive. All our friends and family are very excited--at least on the outside. They might be messing with me and chatting about the old pregnant lady behind my back, but either way baby is on the way. Ultrasound tomorrow to determine the official due date. I was 9 weeks along yesterday so in another week I'll be 25% of the way through this pregnancy. (Margaret calls me "Statistics Barbie" so I had to throw that in). We're hoping for an 11/11/11 birthdate.
More later. Love to all....
Thursday, March 31, 2011
I Survived Gavin's Chuck E. Cheese Birthday Party and Lived to Tell About It
Maybe surviving a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese doesn't seem like that big of an accomplishment to you. It probably doesn't if you're a Mom or Dad who always has destination parties for your kids' birthdays. I'm using the word "destination" loosely in this context. I'm one of those Moms who, after 24 birthday parties for my three boys combined, has just now experienced an "away from home" party. We did have Ethan's 5th birthday party at a park but that was only 2 miles from home and barely counts. I have included some pictures of our "homemade" parties.
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| This was Jac's third birthday and 17 days before Ethan made his appearance. Note my "impressively swollen", read chunky, hand in this picture cutting the cake. |
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| Ethan's first birthday. He looked like a little old man before we gave him his first haircut. |
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| Here's Ethan digging into his cake. Knowing him as I do now, he had probably realized the cake was chocolate and was trying to get to the good stuff. |
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| Ethan's 2nd birthday party and one of my favorite birthday moments ever. He spent most of his time feeding cake to his cousin, Jace, who is eight weeks younger. Two cute little tow-heads. |
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| Ethan again at his 2nd birthday. Who is that skinny chick with the long blonde hair? |
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| Jac's 4th birthday at home. I threw this one in to prove that he really did choose Dora as the theme for his 4th birthday. Ethan still teases him about this. |
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| Jac's 5th birthday at our subdivision pool. It was literally a cold day in June and Ethan and Jace were helping themselves to Jac's cake before it was cut. That's Ethan's little hand on the left. |
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| Ethan's 3rd birthday party in our backyard. Yes, in case you're wondering, I threw this particular pic in because I am looking fierce here. Alas, this was the same day I found out I was pregnant with Gavin and the skinniness was replaced by lots of swelling and looking pregnant in unfortunate places for the next nine months. |
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| Jac's 6th birthday. I believe that was the year he had a Hot Wheels party. Backyard, once again. |
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| Jac's 7th birthday. He was starting his third year with no front teeth. If you've missed out on that back story then it will just have to wait for another day. And, yes, I picked this picture because I love my hair here. I was only 3 months out from giving birth to Gavin so I was also trying to hide my post-pregnancy belly. (It is my blog, right)? |
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| My Superman, Ethan. This was his 4th birthday and began the years of dress-up for he and his younger brother. He wore this Size 4 costume until he was about 7 1/2 and he couldn't fit into it anymore. I had to ban him from riding his bike with the cape on because of some almost unfortunate accidents, but he said that his powers didn't work as well without the cape. |
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| Gavin's 1st birthday. I love this picture. He is 100% full-steam-ahead Gavin all the time. If you're gonna smile, give it all you've got. |
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| Ethan's 5th birthday at the park. I know this one is not very good at documenting proof of his party but it's my favorite picture from that night. This is classic Ethan and reminds me very much of that self-confidence that he gets from both his Mom and Dad. |
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| This was Jac's 11th and Ethan's 8th birthdays. If you're wondering who that guy is who's singing in the background, it's Toby Mac, and as far as these two boys are concerned there is no other singer. They chose to go to a Toby Mac/Chris Tomlin concert instead of having a party. He was singing right beside us and Jac and I both got to shake his hand as he went back to the main stage. |
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| Why this look of elation and spring in the step of this young boy? Well, you have to look at the next picture to understand. |
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| Gavin's 5th birthday, just celebrated on March 12. He got a bike for his birthday before heading out to Chuck E. Cheese. |
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| Here I am, surviving the party at Chuck E. Cheese. If nothing else I'm colorful. One of the funniest moments was when our party hostess asked me if our friend, Nathan, was the "Party Dad." She was going to get a drink for him. I said yes, thinking that he was a Party Dad, not understanding that she meant the Party Dad. Once I realized what she meant I pointed out the real Party Dad. Sorry, Nathan, you gotta be the actual Party Dad to get the hostess to bring you your drink. |
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| Here are my two girlfriends/staff pastors' wives at church. I posted this picture on Facebook and mentioned that I said when Lindy took the pic I told him I wanted one without our swimsuits on. If you read that on Facebook, you might have been like, "Whaaattt?" |
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| Here's the picture to which I was referring. They, along with their families and my husband, threw me a super fabulous surprise birthday party a couple years ago at the pool. It was a blast, and yes, I cropped this picture. No need to show more than necessary. Just trust me, we are super hot in our string bikinis. |
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| Here's the smiling birthday boy and this face makes it all worth it. We were waiting for Chuck E. to make his appearance at this point. It felt like we were chanting "Chuck E. Cheese!" forever, and that's just a tad bit creepy in my opinion, by the way. Later, the party hostess explained to me that the official Chuck E. got pulled over on this way to work that day and another employee was taking extra long getting into the costume. Can our law enforcement not have mercy on a giant mouse whose purpose in life is to bring birthday merriment to the pre-school crowd? Seriously!! What is wrong with this world? |
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| The birthday boy wearing his birthday medal and posing with the substitute Chuck E. Don't tell Gavin. He may feel like he got short-changed. |
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| What's that face for, you ask? Why, that's a 5-year-old who's all souped up on pizza, soda, games, and loud music and is getting ready to dive into his cake. |
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| Gavin, hugging his Spiderman costume from Uncle Rob, Aunt Lisa, and Alex. Spiderman was climbing the walls, or really, the banister later that day at home. |
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| We closed out the night at Joe's Crab Shack where we celebrated Gavin's, Aunt Lisa's, and Alex's birthday. Hopefully, Queen Lisa, who's waving to all of her loyal subjects in this picture, won't get mad at me for including this one. She and Princess Alex were beautiful, don't you think? So, that's the short and long of how I survived our first kid destination party. I did it drug and alcohol-free. No Xanax or mixed drinks here. Just some retail therapy after the party. It actually wasn't all that therapeutic. I only bought a cute pair of shorts at the Loft. The best part about not having the party at home is that there is no clean-up. The downside is that I don't get to be hostess and entertainer to all of our friends and family. I do love throwing a good party, no matter the occasion. More parties to come in June. I'm sure they will be exciting, regardless of the location. |
Monday, March 14, 2011
Maybe You've Never Heard This Story That's Been 20 Years in the Making...
Maybe you're the type who doesn't buy the "Love at First Sight" possibility...
Maybe you think you have to start as friends and allow love to grow over time....
Maybe you think you shouldn't have your first kiss before your first official date... :)
Maybe you don't think that it's possible for a couple to break up, almost marry other people, then reunite and marry each other five years after you met...
Maybe you think long distance relationships never work out...
Maybe you've never seen a picture of the boy I fell head over heels in love with...
This is Lindy Carnett about 48 hours before we met. The picture was taken on the way back from an Evangel College Spring Break Missions Trip to Salt Lake City, UT. It was his senior year and my freshman year. We met on March 11, 1991 the Monday evening following Spring Break. I won't bore you with the whole story, but we met in Burgess Hall (my dorm) near the water fountain and were introduced by a mutual friend named Robin. Honestly, I can still remember when our eyes met. It's as if something inside me clicked and I knew that this was somehow going to be different. He was soooo good-looking (and, unfortunately, he was one of those guys who knew it), but I'm not a girl who's only impressed by good looks so I did what came naturally to me and I made fun of his name. I was immediately in love and the serial dating I had been doing my freshman year came to a screeching halt. I found out on Wednesday that Lindy's suitemate was in my Anatomy class so I had someone close by to give me the intel on him. Later than night, he happened to be in the lobby of my dorm when my friend and I were leaving to go to church. Lindy decided he was going to flip a coin to determine whether he would go with us. (I guess I must have invited him). He kept flipping the coin over and over and eventually I stopped him and said, "If you really want to go, you'll go." He went. I found out that night that he played the drums and ended up playing because the drummer wasn't there. One more thing to love because I was already a sucker for drummers. The three of us went to the airport to watch planes land and then to Village Inn for hot chocolate. By the time we got back to my dorm, we had our first kiss after my friend got out of the car. Tacky, I know, but we were college students. The next day he called me to ask me out for Friday night and I told him that he hadn't given me much notice. I said to him that I usually didn't accept dates from guys who wait until the day before to ask. Not very respectful, if you ask me. But, I told him I would make an exception for him since we had only met three days before.
Our first official date was on March 15 and we went to see "Dances with Wolves" and out to dinner at the Bombay Bicycle Club. This was a double date with his cousin, Daniel. Daniel eventually ended up with a different girl in the long run. I took Lindy home to meet my parents the next day and my Mom's exact words--no lie--were, "Robin, that boy is too good-looking. He's going to be trouble." She thought, and many others did too, that Lindy looked like Tom Cruise. Back in the day before Tom Cruise went loo loo. You know, the "Risky Business" Tom Cruise. That one.
The next evening, St. Patrick's Day, I met Lindy's grandmother--Nana--and he introduced me as his "ride." Nice. He didn't have a car at the time so I was his ride, but still, give the girl a little respect, will ya? Nana put me through the paces even though I was just Lindy's ride and asked me the questions that were important to her.
1) How much do you weigh?
2) How tall are you?
Believe it or not, I told her. She seemed to be satisfied and she liked that I had on lipstick. (Some things never change no matter how many years go by).
So began our relationship and from that moment forward we were pretty much together whenever possible until graduation. He even rode his bike to the mall to hang out at Hot Sams pretzel place where I worked. I loaded him and his bike in the back of my car and drove us back to campus. We "studied" in the library--this was really more about passing each other notes. I met the rest of his family around Easter and he told them I was a sophomore and, technically, that was correct because I had clepped out of some classes and had enough credits to be a sophomore. But, no matter how you sliced it I was still three years out from getting my nursing degree. It bothered him quite a bit that I was 18 and he was the ripe old age of 21. I loved his family from the start, especially because I had never had any sisters.
After graduation, we were pretty much long-distance until the next March when we broke up. That's right. We broke up on March 14 and it was not pretty. I was devestated because I really felt that God had told me two months earlier that Lindy was the man I would marry. There have only been a couple times in my life--and God seems to save it for me when it's a life-altering decision--that I have known without a doubt His will for me. When we broke up it made me really question whether I could trust what I felt God had told me. Later on that summer my brother and I were coming home from the movie together and I was talking to God about the situation again since I just knew He had said Lindy was the one. God told me to be patient. He was working everything out. Well, patience isn't necessarily my strong suit. I practiced "patience" by getting into another relationship and almost getting engaged. He had the ring and then we broke up. That relationship was the easiest thing in the world to get over. All it took was an entire evening of me crying on the phone to my brother, my Mom, and then my Dad. By the time I woke up the next morning I was over it. I guess that was a clue at the time that the other guy wasn't the right one. At the same time, unbeknownst to me, Lindy was engaged to be married to another girl until that relationship was broken off.
I went on to date other guys but never could get Lindy out of my heart, try as I might. When I would visit Springfield I would invariably run into a family member of his or a friend. Over two years had gone by since Lindy and I had spoken. As I mentioned earlier, things did not end well and there was never really any closure to our relationship. From September 1994 to January 1995 I kept feeling like I needed to write Lindy a letter to just wish him well and say there were no hard feelings. (This was in the day before e-mail, text messaging, etc.) I finally wrote to him and he wrote me right back. We wrote a couple more times and then he started calling. It was all very friendly. I was living in Tulsa and he was in St. Charles. By the time May 1995 rolled around we had been getting to know each other again for about four months. We had broached the subject of him coming to visit me, but hadn't set anything in stone. The day before Mother's Day Lindy was in a bad motorcycle accident and when his Mom came to the hospital he told her to call Robin. She said, "Robin who?" She had not a clue that we had been talking for four months. I should back up and say that about two weeks earlier my Mom was visiting me in Tulsa and we were driving around looking at houses for me to buy. (There I go being patient again). She finally said, "Robin, there is something you're not telling me." Mothers of daughters just know, I guess. I tried to deny it, but she insisted I was keeping something from her. I finally gave in and said, "I've been talking to someone." She immediately replied, "Lindy." I was like, "How on earth did you guess that???" His name had not mentioned, in vain or otherwise, in over two years. Mom said, "Oh, Robin. Your Dad and I always thought you were too hard on him anyway." Go figure. Anyway, back to the motorcycle accident. Debi ended up calling me to let me know and I flew up to see him in the hospital. It was during the flood of 1995 and I learned that 17-year-old Ronnin was a scary driver in the rain. Yikes. She brought me from the airport to the hospital and Lindy said when I walked in the room he knew we were going to get married. He's also said it might have been the Demerol but he thought I looked like an angel. There must have been a light in the hallway shining around my long blonde spiral-permed curly hair. I was his curly-haired girl and he was going to marry me.
If you haven't guessed by now, Lindy and I pretty much broke all the hard and fast rules that people have come to depend on when it comes to dating and relationships. That two-day visit to St. Louis turned into us talking every day on the phone. We would talk for hours into the night and I learned that you know you've been up late when you can still taste your toothpaste from the night before when you wake up at 4:45 a.m. to go to work. Being long distance during this time was probably the best thing that could have happened to our relationship. At this point it was becoming serious and we knew it was going to last. He came to visit and brought his friend, Matt. They decided on a whim to come visit me and they drove all night to arrive not long after I had gone to work. He came to visit another time with Matt and another friend. The deal that time was that I was required to have dates lined up for his friends. We had a good time. During those visits Lindy was still on crutches. He had graduated from wheelchair to walker to crutches and had a heart-shaped skin graft on his left shin. For the boy who was so sure of his good looks, having a bum knee brought about a little humility. He was still my Lindy, though, just wiser and more mature than the boy I first laid eyes on.
I also came to visit him in St. Charles a few times and when I visited in October 1995 I knew it was going to be so that he could propose. I can still see myself looking at my left ring finger as he drove to 94th Aerosquadron Restaurant and knowing that after that night it would never be bare again. He did propose and then I agreed to move to St. Charles. About three weeks later, Lindy arrived with Matt, Dave, and Jenn to help me move. We didn't know it then but Jenn was to be Matt's forever love and we are so blessed to still be close friends with them. We had set the date for March 16, 1996 because that weekend was going to be five years from our first date.
God was right, as He always is, and I married my "love at first sight" on March 16--five years from the weekend of our first date.
Every March since then has been a month of celebration because that is the month of spring when our love first bloomed. Ten years after we married I gave birth to our third son, Gavin. He was due on March 8 and I had resigned myself to being overdue. I was hoping that he would be born on March 11 to commemorate the day we met but he missed it by 25 minutes and he was born on March 12 at 12:25 a.m. He was the best ever anniversary gift when we brought him home from the hospital on our 10th anniversary.
Now, it's March again and this time it's 20 years since we met and 15 years since we married. Lindy promised me that life with him would not be boring and he's definitely kept that vow. He always keeps me guessing, he is the funniest person I know, he's steady and dependable, he still maintains his "gonna be trouble" good looks, and he "gets" me when no one else does. He's my best friend and the keeper of my secrets. He's my every day testimony of what kind of spouse you can have if you trust God and put your life in His hands. I probably would have saved myself a little bit of heartache if I had just held on to what God told me in January 1992. It's hard to believe that we have this many years in our love story and I can't wait to see all that is waiting for us around the next corner. It won't be predictable if Lindy has anything to do with it. One more reason why he's my true love and why I'd go through it all over again if it means I get to spend the rest of my life being his wife. Maybe we broke all the rules, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
Maybe you think you have to start as friends and allow love to grow over time....
Maybe you think you shouldn't have your first kiss before your first official date... :)
Maybe you don't think that it's possible for a couple to break up, almost marry other people, then reunite and marry each other five years after you met...
Maybe you think long distance relationships never work out...
Maybe you've never seen a picture of the boy I fell head over heels in love with...
This is Lindy Carnett about 48 hours before we met. The picture was taken on the way back from an Evangel College Spring Break Missions Trip to Salt Lake City, UT. It was his senior year and my freshman year. We met on March 11, 1991 the Monday evening following Spring Break. I won't bore you with the whole story, but we met in Burgess Hall (my dorm) near the water fountain and were introduced by a mutual friend named Robin. Honestly, I can still remember when our eyes met. It's as if something inside me clicked and I knew that this was somehow going to be different. He was soooo good-looking (and, unfortunately, he was one of those guys who knew it), but I'm not a girl who's only impressed by good looks so I did what came naturally to me and I made fun of his name. I was immediately in love and the serial dating I had been doing my freshman year came to a screeching halt. I found out on Wednesday that Lindy's suitemate was in my Anatomy class so I had someone close by to give me the intel on him. Later than night, he happened to be in the lobby of my dorm when my friend and I were leaving to go to church. Lindy decided he was going to flip a coin to determine whether he would go with us. (I guess I must have invited him). He kept flipping the coin over and over and eventually I stopped him and said, "If you really want to go, you'll go." He went. I found out that night that he played the drums and ended up playing because the drummer wasn't there. One more thing to love because I was already a sucker for drummers. The three of us went to the airport to watch planes land and then to Village Inn for hot chocolate. By the time we got back to my dorm, we had our first kiss after my friend got out of the car. Tacky, I know, but we were college students. The next day he called me to ask me out for Friday night and I told him that he hadn't given me much notice. I said to him that I usually didn't accept dates from guys who wait until the day before to ask. Not very respectful, if you ask me. But, I told him I would make an exception for him since we had only met three days before.
Our first official date was on March 15 and we went to see "Dances with Wolves" and out to dinner at the Bombay Bicycle Club. This was a double date with his cousin, Daniel. Daniel eventually ended up with a different girl in the long run. I took Lindy home to meet my parents the next day and my Mom's exact words--no lie--were, "Robin, that boy is too good-looking. He's going to be trouble." She thought, and many others did too, that Lindy looked like Tom Cruise. Back in the day before Tom Cruise went loo loo. You know, the "Risky Business" Tom Cruise. That one.
The next evening, St. Patrick's Day, I met Lindy's grandmother--Nana--and he introduced me as his "ride." Nice. He didn't have a car at the time so I was his ride, but still, give the girl a little respect, will ya? Nana put me through the paces even though I was just Lindy's ride and asked me the questions that were important to her.
1) How much do you weigh?
2) How tall are you?
Believe it or not, I told her. She seemed to be satisfied and she liked that I had on lipstick. (Some things never change no matter how many years go by).
So began our relationship and from that moment forward we were pretty much together whenever possible until graduation. He even rode his bike to the mall to hang out at Hot Sams pretzel place where I worked. I loaded him and his bike in the back of my car and drove us back to campus. We "studied" in the library--this was really more about passing each other notes. I met the rest of his family around Easter and he told them I was a sophomore and, technically, that was correct because I had clepped out of some classes and had enough credits to be a sophomore. But, no matter how you sliced it I was still three years out from getting my nursing degree. It bothered him quite a bit that I was 18 and he was the ripe old age of 21. I loved his family from the start, especially because I had never had any sisters.
After graduation, we were pretty much long-distance until the next March when we broke up. That's right. We broke up on March 14 and it was not pretty. I was devestated because I really felt that God had told me two months earlier that Lindy was the man I would marry. There have only been a couple times in my life--and God seems to save it for me when it's a life-altering decision--that I have known without a doubt His will for me. When we broke up it made me really question whether I could trust what I felt God had told me. Later on that summer my brother and I were coming home from the movie together and I was talking to God about the situation again since I just knew He had said Lindy was the one. God told me to be patient. He was working everything out. Well, patience isn't necessarily my strong suit. I practiced "patience" by getting into another relationship and almost getting engaged. He had the ring and then we broke up. That relationship was the easiest thing in the world to get over. All it took was an entire evening of me crying on the phone to my brother, my Mom, and then my Dad. By the time I woke up the next morning I was over it. I guess that was a clue at the time that the other guy wasn't the right one. At the same time, unbeknownst to me, Lindy was engaged to be married to another girl until that relationship was broken off.
I went on to date other guys but never could get Lindy out of my heart, try as I might. When I would visit Springfield I would invariably run into a family member of his or a friend. Over two years had gone by since Lindy and I had spoken. As I mentioned earlier, things did not end well and there was never really any closure to our relationship. From September 1994 to January 1995 I kept feeling like I needed to write Lindy a letter to just wish him well and say there were no hard feelings. (This was in the day before e-mail, text messaging, etc.) I finally wrote to him and he wrote me right back. We wrote a couple more times and then he started calling. It was all very friendly. I was living in Tulsa and he was in St. Charles. By the time May 1995 rolled around we had been getting to know each other again for about four months. We had broached the subject of him coming to visit me, but hadn't set anything in stone. The day before Mother's Day Lindy was in a bad motorcycle accident and when his Mom came to the hospital he told her to call Robin. She said, "Robin who?" She had not a clue that we had been talking for four months. I should back up and say that about two weeks earlier my Mom was visiting me in Tulsa and we were driving around looking at houses for me to buy. (There I go being patient again). She finally said, "Robin, there is something you're not telling me." Mothers of daughters just know, I guess. I tried to deny it, but she insisted I was keeping something from her. I finally gave in and said, "I've been talking to someone." She immediately replied, "Lindy." I was like, "How on earth did you guess that???" His name had not mentioned, in vain or otherwise, in over two years. Mom said, "Oh, Robin. Your Dad and I always thought you were too hard on him anyway." Go figure. Anyway, back to the motorcycle accident. Debi ended up calling me to let me know and I flew up to see him in the hospital. It was during the flood of 1995 and I learned that 17-year-old Ronnin was a scary driver in the rain. Yikes. She brought me from the airport to the hospital and Lindy said when I walked in the room he knew we were going to get married. He's also said it might have been the Demerol but he thought I looked like an angel. There must have been a light in the hallway shining around my long blonde spiral-permed curly hair. I was his curly-haired girl and he was going to marry me.
If you haven't guessed by now, Lindy and I pretty much broke all the hard and fast rules that people have come to depend on when it comes to dating and relationships. That two-day visit to St. Louis turned into us talking every day on the phone. We would talk for hours into the night and I learned that you know you've been up late when you can still taste your toothpaste from the night before when you wake up at 4:45 a.m. to go to work. Being long distance during this time was probably the best thing that could have happened to our relationship. At this point it was becoming serious and we knew it was going to last. He came to visit and brought his friend, Matt. They decided on a whim to come visit me and they drove all night to arrive not long after I had gone to work. He came to visit another time with Matt and another friend. The deal that time was that I was required to have dates lined up for his friends. We had a good time. During those visits Lindy was still on crutches. He had graduated from wheelchair to walker to crutches and had a heart-shaped skin graft on his left shin. For the boy who was so sure of his good looks, having a bum knee brought about a little humility. He was still my Lindy, though, just wiser and more mature than the boy I first laid eyes on.
I also came to visit him in St. Charles a few times and when I visited in October 1995 I knew it was going to be so that he could propose. I can still see myself looking at my left ring finger as he drove to 94th Aerosquadron Restaurant and knowing that after that night it would never be bare again. He did propose and then I agreed to move to St. Charles. About three weeks later, Lindy arrived with Matt, Dave, and Jenn to help me move. We didn't know it then but Jenn was to be Matt's forever love and we are so blessed to still be close friends with them. We had set the date for March 16, 1996 because that weekend was going to be five years from our first date.
God was right, as He always is, and I married my "love at first sight" on March 16--five years from the weekend of our first date.
Every March since then has been a month of celebration because that is the month of spring when our love first bloomed. Ten years after we married I gave birth to our third son, Gavin. He was due on March 8 and I had resigned myself to being overdue. I was hoping that he would be born on March 11 to commemorate the day we met but he missed it by 25 minutes and he was born on March 12 at 12:25 a.m. He was the best ever anniversary gift when we brought him home from the hospital on our 10th anniversary.
Now, it's March again and this time it's 20 years since we met and 15 years since we married. Lindy promised me that life with him would not be boring and he's definitely kept that vow. He always keeps me guessing, he is the funniest person I know, he's steady and dependable, he still maintains his "gonna be trouble" good looks, and he "gets" me when no one else does. He's my best friend and the keeper of my secrets. He's my every day testimony of what kind of spouse you can have if you trust God and put your life in His hands. I probably would have saved myself a little bit of heartache if I had just held on to what God told me in January 1992. It's hard to believe that we have this many years in our love story and I can't wait to see all that is waiting for us around the next corner. It won't be predictable if Lindy has anything to do with it. One more reason why he's my true love and why I'd go through it all over again if it means I get to spend the rest of my life being his wife. Maybe we broke all the rules, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
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