Dull Moments

have you run a long race before? maybe not literally... but in some fashion? have you dragged yourself on and on, knowing there had to be an end, even when it didn't feel like it for hours/days/weeks/months/years? friends, i can see my finish line. with my due date just six days away , i can see a checkered line. i don't care about my time. i don't care about the people at the end or the medal or the water or anything. i don't care about the doctors, the hospital, the birth, the epidural (or lack there of), the idea of a good meal afterwards, or anything. in some ways, i'm not sure i care about the baby. i just want to stop running. as i threw up earlier this week, i could confidently tell myself that this journey will end. i could remember much, much harder parts of this race (like when i passed out while driving). i could hear the unhelpful comments from the sidelines ("you can't be that sick", "my sister threw up the first few week...

i really mean this to be funny. i'm not depressed or anything. just glad that baby boy is doing well, not coming too early, and that pregnancy eventually ends. it doesn't quite fit with "the sound of silence" 100%, but i did by best. this is what happens when you wake up feeling like death at 5am. also, robert assures me no one has ever died of nausea.  Hello, nausea, my old friend I see you've come for me again I can’t move, I can’t think I’m throwing up in the kitchen sink There was hope in my brain yet this Still remains This is death by nausea Hello, zofran, my old friend I see I’m taking you again I thought that at 38 weeks This would end, it would not peak I’m not going to work today Not no how  or way Yes, this is death by nausea I’m a fool, I should have known As long as this little baby grows I won’t be a functioning human being Sounds like motherhood is the same thing Baby, I promise to be your very best friend ...

With the recent crazy storm we had here in Indy, my husband has started to ask questions about my childhood, where these types of storms were less “crazy” and more of a “just another week in a Wisconsin childhood.” Q: If the weather was always bad, when did they cancel school? A: When the pipes in the building froze and you didn’t have running water. Q: {after checking the forecast} Wow, they cancelled church. Do you remember church being cancelled growing up? A: Not really. We drove to church all the time in this weather. They did cancel youth group, though, not wanting the kids driving after dark in the bad weather. People who lived in the country often couldn't make it, though. Q: Did kids wait out in for the bus in this weather? A: Sure. Or in a neighbor’s garage. Or in your parent’s car. Or you just wore a lot of clothes. Q: Does everyone have a truck? Or 4 wheel drive? A: I learned to drive on a 1990 Toyota Carolla. So no. Q: Did people complain whe...

We have less than 5 weeks from my due date. I think this calls for an existential crisis, right? Haha. A few weeks back, I wrote an old college friend and said, “How am I going to do this? How am I going to teach my son about faith and life and pain and beauty and grace? I get so frustrated with the Church some times. I am so broken myself. What in the world am I going to do?” This friend reassured me beyond all doubt that I was going to do just fine. Because God has given us faith and life and pain and beauty and grace. He did remark that he could understand, though, how daunting it would be to think of bringing up a child when we don’t have the answers, when things are broken, when you look at the world today. His response made me realize two very, very important things. First of all, I think it has always been daunting to think of the world we are bringing children into. I don’t really think there’s ever been a “good time”. Peace on earth isn’t a reality and nev...