the tipping point

Well, I finally did it, and I'm wondering if doing it was the right thing to do, but it's done so what else can I do concerning it?

There's an intro for ya.

I hung out with my brother and sister-in-law the other night and on the half hour drive home on I-75, I was playing out some conversations in my head. This is often fun for me to do from time to time, and if you've never done it, a) you're clearly not psychologically sound like me and b) you should really try it. The conversation du jour (in my head) was Phil calling me from Afghanistan with news:

"Hey. I went to the enlistment office and well, I re-enlisted today. I got M6 school and I'm going to Texas when I get back. What do you think?"

Now normally at this point, the conversation would continue in my head, followed with movie-esque actions...me crouching down on the couch, holding my head, rocking back and forth, etc. But this conversation entered into the real world when all of a sudden I burst out crying in my mom's car barreling south on the interstate.

This, my friend(s), was the tipping point for me. For months when Phil and I would discuss re-enlisting, I would say, "Whatever God calls you to do, babe, we can do it. Even if that means signing up again, He'll take care of us and I'm okay with whatever you decide." This was true, mostly, and I believed it at the time.

And then? Then I got pregnant and saw this picture in an email I got on Veterans' Day.
In the car driving at midnight and crying over a fake conversation, I decided that I was not okay with him re-enlisting and I no longer wanted the life of an Army wife or a military family.

For months I was so proud that I was Army...if I wanted, I could have gotten one of those Army Wife stickers for my car. We were doing what so many people have done through the ages and continue to do this day. I loved my husband's job and how he excelled, and I loved that we were tough...made of steel...didn't get phased by people's "Ohhh, I'm so sorry," when they heard of our deployment. I'm so amazed by career military families who have children and multiple deployments, PCSes, TDYs, month-long trainings throughout the year, and I'm so proud I get to be apart of this culture.

And yet, I'm done. It's Phil's career, yes, but it's our marriage and we are bringing a child into this. I can't handle the idea of him watching our child(ren) grow up on a computer screen from thousands of miles away. I used to be afraid of the unknown of what was out there in the civilian world if we ever got out and in fear decided that staying in would be safer. Now I'm more afraid of what will happen to us if we stay in and that whatever challenges the outside world brings us I'll take it, as long as I have Phil by my side.

There are unknowns everywhere, and my biggest goal is to follow Christ and bring Him glory. If that means staying in the Army, then I'll stay and be faithful to my husband's calling (with a fight, of course). Yet if I'm listening correctly, I feel a huge pull on my heart to encourage Phil towards a different life, and I'd be lying to tell Phil that I was okay with whatever he decided.

He called and I told him that I wanted out and that I was praying God would unite our hearts so that we could be on the same page. I didn't give ultimatums...I told him I'd love him always no matter what and I'd follow him wherever he led (he laughed). I did, however, give him one request...

Don't make a decision until you hold your baby for the first time.

preggers = emotions

It's been a whirlwind of a week here in the Pacific Northwest. Mom flew in on the 14th and we've been gogogoing ever since. Well not really, but it feels like that. It's been so nice to have someone here to motivate me and help me get projects done and cross off things on my two page long to-do list, but it's amazing how overwhelmed, stressed out, and tired I get.

Sidenote...I'm eating yogurt right now because I know it's good for me, but I'm eating it at the pace of a 2 year old because it's grossing me out. At least it's not all over my face and I'm using a metal spoon rather than one wrapped in rubber.

To top our busyness off, I got frustrated with friends because I feel like I'm the only one available to come over whenever they need me to watch kids or run to the store for them or help them with errands. I love helping them out, don't get me wrong, and I know that with several husbands deployed and flocks of children everywhere, they need all the help they can get. And maybe it was just that my mom was here and I was busy already, but for a few days it seemed like someone was calling me everyday for help and I wanted to say, "What about me?? I need help to! No one calls me to check on me or see if I need anything!"

But lets refer back to the title of this post...emotions. All of this was underscored by the fact that I'm pregnant and hearing (not seeing) sappy commercials on the radio causes me to blubber. And of course people check in on me and offer help so it's not fair to say that NO ONE ever does, but during a week where I wanted to hang out with my mom and have her dote on me (which she did an excellent job of), I dreaded when the phone rang.

All of the "drama" during the day plus Phil still being gone (I know, he's still not back yet. Strange, I thought it would go by quicker than this) turned into nightly sob fests with your host, Allison. Tonight she will be featuring crying so hard her eyes swell up to golf balls and being so stuffed up she sounds like an old man when she sleeps. It usually starts off as me thinking about how Phil should be laying (lying? I don't feel like looking it up. English majors, sorry.) next to me and how I miss nuzzling on him. Then it will progress to how I want to tell him everything that mom and I got done and how great that feels. Next comes feeling badly because I feel great but he's not here to share in that, followed by, "What if we're growing apart? What if when he comes home he'll feel like everything changed and he won't like it and we become distant?" And then that usually escalates to, "Oh my gosh our poor baby is going to have parents that don't love each other because Mom didn't tell Dad when we got a new couch or sent pictures!"

Oh my.

I then remember the verse that says, "God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind," (2 Tim. 1:7) and I realize I have the complete opposite of a sound mind and I usually then start the sniffle prayers where I say two words, can't catch my breath because I'm crying, continue praying in my head and once I can breathe again, I'll get out a few more words. So it sounds more like, "And I pray....[sobsobsob]...and keep our hearts knit together and....[sobsobsob]...safe at his base...[sobsobsob]...June 24 come fast."

At least God knows.

It is getting better though. He finally is getting wireless internet on 1 December and I mailed him a webcam and a MagicJack with phone (plugs into your computer and you can call anywhere!) so soon we can talk whenever for however long without him having to go to MWR and wait in lines and having to get off because they called his name over a loud speaker to get off. We're coming to a place of hopefulness instead of anxious waiting and never sleeping because what if he calls and I miss it. I hope the webcam works because I'd do anything to see his face. Our conversations are so short now and we have to get all of the business covered...we don't have fun or joke or be silly like we usually are. I miss that...he used one of his voices the other night and I couldn't stop laughing because it was like I forgot about how marriage was fun instead and not just a business partnership.

Hope on the horizon...God is good. I'm reading a book by John Piper right now called Future Grace and he talks about how we live in the joy of the future grace God will give us, remembering his goodness in the past with gratitude. We don't owe God...we don't have to be good Christians just so that he'll still look down from above with favor...if we had to pay him back for grace, it isn't grace; it's a business transaction. So knowing that God will love me in the future just as much as He loves me now is huge! I don't have to earn or do anything to please Him - He's GOING to give grace because He loves us and killed His Son so that we might live in grace and freedom. It's helpful in thinking about that because I know God has given me grace with this deployment, is getting me through each day by His grace, and He's going to get me through it.

I get overwhelmed by the length of a year when it hasn't even been one month, and yet God doesn't tell me to look at a year; He tells me to look at today and be satisfied in Him. I don't want to wish away this year because I know He's got big plans for me. So one day at a time!

I'll end by saying Happy Thanksgiving and I hope you experience grace in a tangible way....and maybe without those pregnant emotions.

reactions

I told my parents I was pregnant and I got THE best reaction I could have hoped for...

Golden.

how quickly things can change

Where to begin!

The beginning, I suppose.

So Phil left on Sunday, November 1, after two unsuccessful attempts on both Friday and Saturday. It was nice to have him stay an extra day-ish, but my nerves were about to snap under the pressure of saying goodbye...3 times.

But lets back up a squich. Saturday the 31st Phil was home and we were able to catch up on a lot of things together, one of them being a pregnancy test that we thought was needed. I was feeling sick, hadn't started my period, and what the heck, why not? So I made him pick it out while I dropped 5 cans of soup in our grocery basket for my sick stomach.

I was nervous but honestly I didn't think I was pregnant. I had a lot going on, lots of stress with him deploying, and probably just had a bug or something. So I take the test...twice! And they were the line kind: one line means not preggers, two lines means uh-oh. I watched it develop like a polaroid picture from yester-year and one line was definitely dark, but faintly, like a shadow, was a second line. What did this mean? Asked Phil; "Take the other one," was his response. I did and same thing. What a conundrum - two lines but one much more accentuated than the other. His consensus? "You're not pregnant. Woohoo!"

So he left on Sunday and I was still feeling cruddy and started thinking about the idea of being pregnant. "I mean maybe, I could be, but then again..." or, "I'm sure it's just..." and so on. I called my mom and she said to go get blood work done, and on Monday morning I marched myself into the walk-in clinic to request, ever-so-quietly, "Yes, um, I would like to take, the ah, pregnancy test...?" I was waiting to get in trouble or have the receptionist say I wasn't allowed.

I went and got blood, all the while telling myself I'm not and to not get excited, and proceeded to my regularly scheduled allergy appointment. Went home and waited for three hours to pass so I could call the lab to get my results.

I called Amy to spazz out and have her talk me down, since obviously I wasn't pregnant and I needed to stop entertaining the thought. "Ok gotta go," I told her around noon, "I'm going to call now. Wish me luck."

Five minutes later, she picks up:
"Are you pregnant?"
"Yep."
"WHAT??"

And so begins my journey as a momma-to-be. They told me I was 4-6 weeks pregnant and I scheduled my intake appointment for the OB/GYN. I had to tell people just so that I wouldn't explode, so I emailed and called a few particulars, but it was killing me that I couldn't call Phil. I didn't want to tell my family until Thanksgiving for a fun surprise, but I just needed to tell Phil.

Well, and thank Jesus for this one, he called that night and I read him an email from Baby Sommerville:

I know that you and Mommy didn't think I was here, but unfortunately you're not so good at reading pregnancy tests. Mommy went to the doctor on Monday, Nov. 2 because she just couldn't shake the feeling that I was here, and sure enough the doctors told her I was permanently residing in her belly!

Maybe I'm a boy...maybe I'm a girl...but I'm yours and I'm so happy you're my Daddy.

Afterwards, it was silent on the phone and then, quietly and in a high-pitch voice, "We're pregnant? We're going to have a little baby?"

He teared up and I asked if he was excited to which he replied, "Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be we're going to have a little baby!" So much was taken off my shoulders to hear those two sentences.

So Phil and I are going to be parents and I feel so privileged and blessed that God chose us to bring a life into this world. I honestly have no idea when we conceived or how, and really, I think conception is an utter miracle to begin with, so He wanted us pregnant. And to think how hard and closed off our hearts were previously to having children and how He melted us. I'm SO excited to bring a little boy or girl into this world. I'm overwhelmed and bewildered by the logistics of things (how often do you need to bathe infants? will it know how much to eat automatically? how many blankets do you put on a baby when it sleeps?), and I feel totally inadequate to teach it about Jesus' love or be a good example of what that looks like, and yet, here we are.

I got a book yesterday in the mail that had actual photographs of babies in the womb at different weeks throughout pregnancy and the youngest one was 11 weeks. Man you could see the eyes, see its little spine, the arms and legs...incredible. And I got furious; furious that any woman could think that murdering that precious daughter was somehow more convenient or advanced the cause of womanhood. I saw my baby's blood pulsing through its body on an ultrasound: a 7 week, size-of-my-fingernail baby with blood circulating like a camera flash through its forming limbs and organs. Don't tell me that isn't life; don't tell me that it's just cells; don't tell me your excuses. It's life, beautiful and perfectly created by God.

Sidenote, but relevant.

My mom is coming on Saturday to stay for ten days, and she doesn't know yet since I told her the blood test was negative, but soon Dad and her will know when they get a package containing a onesie that says, "Can't wait to meet you Grandma and Grandpa! See you June 24!" I put on the package they had to open it together and they had to do it on Skype so I could see them. It's been the hardest thing to tell everyone but my MOM and have her ask about decorating my second bedroom in the apartment when all I want to say is, "We have to decorate it with animals and polka dots and soft things!" Longest two days of mailing time, ever.

This post is getting to the ridiculously long category, and I have so many more thoughts and emotions and responses to my peanut in my belly, but this will do. What a wonder, what a miracle, what an honor.

Thank you, Father God, for giving us this gift.

Holy crap. I'm going to be a momma.