Lucky.

I think everyone feels this way at some point:  you are talking to someone and they say something to you that is meant to be "nice" but ends up stinging a little.  I was reading a fellow mommy-blogger's blog and this happens to her regularly; she has a daughter with a severe, chronic medical condition; this rare condition prevents her daughter from ever living at home - her daughter will spend her entire life in a hospital because her daily treatment is so extensive that she is unable to be cared for in her parent's home.  This mother hears people say to expectant moms, "As long as your baby is healthy and happy, that's all that matters."  I've said this to my pregnant friends, many times.  But what if your baby is not healthy...what then?  Now, we all know that any good parent would give their child unconditional, loving care regardless of whether they are healthy (or happy, for that matter), but it still makes you think about the things we often say to people without really thinking.

My thing has to do with the word "lucky."  I often get asked what I do...like, what is my job now that Stella has come into our lives?  Especially since we just moved to a new place we are meeting a lot of new people and this is a pretty typical part of those first-time conversations with neighbors and new friends.  The conversation goes something like this:

New person:  "So, what do you do?  Are you working outside the home?"

Me:  "Well, I used to work in fundraising but now I'm a stay-at-home-mom."

New Person:  "Oh, you're lucky you're able to do that." OR, "You're lucky you can afford to do that."

Me:  "Yea..."

I know most people are not really interested in the full story in these first, just-getting-acquainted, conversations...about how our decision for me to stay at home has led us to a pretty devastating place, financially.  About how we decided to prioritize the needs of our new family, and what we feel God has called us all to as a new family, over our house.  About how that will very likely lead to foreclosure unless a miracle occurs in the next two weeks - and then possibly even greater financial ruin if the money we owe goes to collections.  I think when people hear that I stay at home that they mostly assume we are doing well financially.  Realistically, we absolutely cannot afford to make this decision, when it comes strictly to the money.  The real question is, can we afford to make the alternative choice (me working full-time) when it comes to being obedient to this new calling of being present for Stella's childhood?  I'd rather sacrifice anything in this world to do the job I've been given as a mom, even if that means I might face embarrassment and shame from the earthly consequences of our choice.

I'm learning to own the results of our decision to walk away from the house.  We knew when we made this choice that there was a possibility that things could end in foreclosure and even bankruptcy.  It's harder than I thought it would be because we had such faith that things would end differently.  It looked like the buyers were a sure-thing all along and we figured the sale would progress.  When they decided to walk away so abruptly a few weeks ago, at the very end of this whole long process, we were left in the emotional lurch.  

Here is what I know and what gets me through:

I am blessed to have a husband who is fully supportive of my new role.  

I am blessed to have a husband who feels called and committed to his job - and one who doesn't make his decisions based on money, but on God's will.

I am confident of my new calling and I have never loved any job more...nothing I have done thus far has even come close to the absolute joy I experience as a mom.

I will accept all of the consequences of our choice.  I will "own it" as my mom says.  We are responsible for what is happening.

I will not follow the wisdom of the world if it means doing something contrary to God's will for my life.

God's character remains the same regardless of whatever lousy things may happen in life.

I don't believe in luck.

 

Undone But Held Up!

The past few weeks of life have been exhausting.  Moving, unpacking, organizing, cleaning, taking care of Stella and the dogs while Tim was gone, our house sale proceeding (and then possibly not proceeding), and our recent overnight stay at a hospital in Massachusetts while visiting my mom.  I'm so tired!

Stella and I decided to surprise my mom for Mother's Day by giving her the only gift we can really afford - a visit from us.  We drove to Cape Cod after church on Sunday, planning to spend a few days with my mom.  Her face as she saw us sitting on her front lawn when she got home from work was priceless.  We spent the afternoon together and, when evening came, we put Stella to bed.  As my mom and I were eating dinner I heard Stella crying.  After she didn't settle and I listened more closely I realized she was crying in a way I had never heard before - it sounded like she was struggling to breathe.  Sure enough, when I got to her bedside, I saw that she was bright red, gasping for air, and full of fear.  My mom identified croup and we headed for the hospital.  She rode in my lap all the way to the ER.  Thank GOD we were with my mother because I would have otherwise had no idea what was happening and panicked.

Once at the ER they administered the saline nebulizer, the epinephrine nebulizer, and then a shot of another steroid...and then another epinephrine nebulizer when the croup returned before the final steroid kicked in...they pulled out all the stops as Stella wasn't responding to the basic treatments.  I cannot describe how difficult and terrifying it is to watch your child struggle to breathe.  They suggested monitoring her throughout the night and I slept with one eye open as she rested in her hospital crib and then on my chest when she woke up crying at 4am.  It was a rough night, but I'm grateful for the fact that I was where I was when it all happened.

I'm undone, but held up.  In the midst of all of this life insanity I've been meditating on the fact that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me (Philippians 4:13).  God's character is unchanging even though I can't say the same for anything in life right now.  One minute we think our house is selling and everything is going fine and the next minute the buyers are having second thoughts.  One minute we are enjoying a lovely visit with my mom and the next minute Stella is struggling to take a breath.  Thankfully, the character of God is constant.  He is good, just, loving, filled with peace, mercy, grace.  He is a provider, defender, strong tower, my shelter.  He is strong and wonderful.  When all things in this world seem like the absolute antithesis of my Father in Heaven, I'm so thankful that I can count on His character to remain the same.  I'm grateful, too, for a faith that is deep enough to understand that God remains good even when life is hard.

Some day I will post the sweet video of my mom's reaction to our surprise visit.  In the meantime I hold on to that memory and try to keep that moment, which was worth all the craziness that followed, in the forefront of my mind.

My Crazy Day.

A few crazy things happened today.  Tim is in France celebrating the marriage of his brother, Roy, to our new sister-in-law, Shona.  While he has been away I have been unpacking boxes and prepping our new apartment to make it more like "home."  I think my exhaustion is catching up to me.

The dearest person, Nicky, came over to help me do a few projects around the house and while she was here I left the door open to the basement so that we could easily travel in and out.  I mistakenly thought that our dog, Griffin, was upstairs, but when I went looking for him after a few moments of having the door open I realized he was NOT in the apartment.  He was also not anywhere around our yard.  My heart sank to my shoes as I had momentary flashbacks of losing our other dog, Tank, when he was hit by a car a few years ago.  Thankfully, "hawk-eye" Nicky spotted Griffin several yards away (by yards I mean people's yards, not the three-feet kind of yards) and I took off after him.  He came willingly but was clearly sporting the "What's the big deal, mom?" look on his face.  Yikes and thank God He didn't get too far and he was unharmed by his five, glorious minutes of total freedom.

While Stella napped this morning I was doing some organizational projects, including cleaning out a heavy, brown, storage ottoman.  I had it turned upside-down and was banging it against the railing of our steps when I banged it down on the top joint of my right ring-finger.  It hurt so incredibly that I had to rest my head on the railing; I saw stars and thought I was going to vomit and then my finger went numb.  I'm amazed after rest, ice, and elevation it feels almost normal now (and ibuprofen, my hero).  Later in the day I damaged my left ring finger when I was moving a chair from the basement...guess I was meant to have matching war-wounds from the move?

On a slightly different, more positive, but also crazy note, I met our neighbors who live two doors down in the same row of town-house style apartments.  The guy was pumping his bike tires in the backyard when I approached to introduce myself.  I said, "Hi, my name is Jenny and this is Stella - we're your new neighbors."  He said, "Hi, I'm Tim!"  I said, "Oh, how funny, my husband's name is Tim."  My neighbor, Tim, told me he was going to go get his wife so we could meet, as well, and I heard him yell upstairs inside, "Hey Jen, are you available?  I want you to meet our new neighbors."  Yep, their names are Tim and Jen.  She's Jenna, but still pretty nuts, huh?  They are a young, newly married couple (about our age) with no kids.  Another odd connection, Jenna grew up only 45 minutes away from my Tim in upstate NY.  They moved to Newmarket in October and they truly seem like people I'd be friends with even if they weren't my neighbors.  I'm so grateful for this and excited to get to know them in the coming months of sharing a building!

The end to my crazy day:  BED.