Saturday, October 26, 2013

weary + rest

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, 
and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28
“Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?”Mary Oliver

“Sometimes I need
only to stand
wherever I am
to be blessed."
 Mary Oliver

 
"And only you can see the good
In broken things.
You took my heart of stone
And you made it home
And set this prisoner free." 
Bethany Dillon



 
“We sometimes choose the most locked up, dark versions of the story, but what a good friend does is turn on the lights, open the window, and remind us that there are a whole lot of ways to tell the same story.” 
Shauna Niequist  
I am not alone...
 
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."Matthew 11:28-30

Thursday, April 18, 2013

A closing to my twenties...

Tomorrow I cross over to a new decade. Though tomorrow may just seem like any other day, I am flooded with memories as I reflect back on the last 10 years of my life.


Some experiences in the last decade that come to mind are learning to appreciate and appropriately drink adult beveragesJ Trinity House. Heartache & relationships ending. Graduation. Cross country driving. Moving to a different State. Paradise Point & Adventure White Water. Experiencing God through prayer and healing. God pulling me out and redeeming me from depression.Working alongside the poor. Meeting the man whom I would marry. Getting married. Celebrating friends getting married. Traveling. Being accepted by an incredible community. New friends. Learning to what it really means to love your neighbor..still learning. Growing and birthing two babies. Photography. 3 years of Counseling Graduate School. Learning to cook. Hard conversations of healing. Anniversaries at Edgefield. Crying over friends passing and new babies entering the world. Being forgiven on several occasions. Forgiving. Getting reacquainted and learning about family. I am sure the list could continue but for now this is my free association list of my highlighted experiences in my twenties. 

It sort of feels like another life when I think about some of these moments and seasons of life. It is quite strange to think of the 20 year old Katy. I know there have been experiences of both overwhelming joy and deep sorrow. I also know both have been used for growth, understanding, and most importantly bringing me closer to the one who knows me best, my Creator. I have Him to thank. 

This reminds me of something I recently read from Beth Moore. Something about how God sometimes alleviates our suffering, sometimes eases the suffering, and still other times God shows his sufficiency in the suffering. But she was encouraging the reader to make no mistake; God never abandons us in our suffering. That's right Beth, in each of those experiences listed above and more...God was with me through it all and is still with me today. Even if I failed or straight up didn't want Him there. If I could describe or put a theme to the last 10 years in one sentence it would be...God was with me the whole time because he loves me. 

So I will continue to reflect and CELEBRATE God's goodness. And to remember His goodness and grace on my life is not for me & me alone but He has seen me through much so that I may give my life to others. Perhaps so that they may experience this very real and personal God too. 

Cheers to the next decade...

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Two months or so later...the birth story of Crosby Rian


My snuggly, warm breathing baby is on my lap as I type. I have wanted to write and reflect but the time wash't right until now. It has been a difficult week. I am confronted with my own desires and how they are at rest for now as I tend to those that depend on me. With eye infections and fevers, we continue to live the day embracing any beauty that we can...but that reflection is for another time. Tonight's thoughts are dedicated to this bundle of joy that lays still beneath my typing chatter. 

He is already 54 days old. 
He smiles and today I heard him chuckle. 
His left eyebrow makes an appearance every once in awhile with a look that will melt you on the spot.
He has a peace about him that brings rhythm to my breathing in the middle of the night.
He endures the many kisses, firm grasps, and even a bite to the toe from his older brother.
His lips often smoosh together and I can't help but respond with a kiss. 
He is Crosby Rian, my precious son.

8 days after his expected due date was the perfect time for him to come. My mom had come days previous to help with Jamison who curiously waited for his little brother's arrival. We spent the days bouncing on the ball, going to the park, and enjoying meals together. I was to be induced that Sunday at 1pm and that Sunday morning at 1am the contractions began! I had been dilated to 4cm with no contractions and was advised to not wait too long to make it to the hospital (3 blocks from our home). Skeptical of this advice, and if you know me at all, I tend to question any given advise and my stubbornness has been known to get the best of me. I waited until about 3am to wake James up to let him know the real deal had started. He quickly pops up and opens his computer..."oh I forgot to email my boss something. I figure now is better than later" (or something like that). Get er' done babe! It didn't take very long before the advice of professionals kicked in. The contractions were strong and long. Around 4ish we went downstairs where my mom was already awake. Mother's intuition...seriously. She knew and was excitedly waiting for us. We walked around the park, where a man so kindly exposed himself while peeing on a tree. I love our neighborhood, really I do..this is just one extra plus..being in labor and not caring about this situation. Hilltop. We decided shortly after this to go to the hospital. One special thing that happened, as we started to get ready to go, was Jamison woke up. This was unusual and I sensed he knew something was happening. We were able to kiss him and give a few last cuddles before leaving. Very grateful to pass him to my mom, whom he ADORES.

Longer story made shorter, we got checked in and things got hot quickly! I remember sharing with James as I was being wheeled to triage that I wasn't feeling like superwoman. After that there were numerous times I asked for something to help with the pain. From my perspective, no one listened (and I am grateful now but maybe not in the moment). Now labor, if I were eloquent with words I would give you a poem or some alliteration that described my experience. But I will kindly share with you what I remember, as it flows from this scattered and well aware of the time mommy mind! There were a few things that helped me incredibly through the ride of each contraction. First, my amazing husband. His partnership was most evident during the birth of both boys. He spent most of his time putting pressure on my hips due to back labor. His encouraging words never stopped, even when I felt I was at my end. "You are doing great babe." "You got this." "I love you so much, you are almost done." He was also very in tune with my cues. Just a quick shake of the head and he knew to stop or try something different. Secondly, my fingers. I remember rubbing them in circles together to remind me there were other parts of my body besides a hard working uterus and cervix! Round and round I would circle and somehow the rhythm brought relief and concentration. Thirdly, during the most difficult part of labor (at least mentally), my midwife asked if a midwife in training could join us. Uhh I don't care who joined us at that point. She immediately jumped in and got right in my face. Now normally this would NOT be okay but something clicked and she was immediately invited into the sacred space I was in. Her voice, her smell, and her way of calming me through my moments of weakness. At one point I looked up at her and said, "Are you an angel? No seriously, are you?" We chuckled and quickly moved forward with the next contraction. I loved her and can't thank God enough for allowing her to come at the time she did. Lastly, I had invited my mom into the room. I can't remember how long she was in the room but I know she saw the majority of my process. I hesitated inviting her because I knew that I would look to her to take away my pain. A natural process that most children often desire when in pain, their mommy. There were a few times I looked to her with those "please do something eyes." And her presence was enough to add to the strength in the room. A woman who has four birth stories of her own. Courage.

Waves. Pressure. LOTS of pressure. 

It was difficult to find a position that was..hmm whats the word? Not comfortable, but perhaps productive. Squats, leaning over the bed, and finally the bar. Surges began to take over my body. I never got to feel this with the birth of Jamison and I began to understand what some women describe. Poop, I need to poop! Yes! I have had the privilege of watching, photographing a handful of births and this pooping feeling has been a trend to when the baby is low enough to begin pushing. I don't think I had a choice because my body began doing what I hoped it would. Beautiful. Let go, let go, you know what to do daughter. Your body will guide you. Though I had never felt anything quite like this, my body guided me. It hurt..it hurt oh so bad. And yet this pain showed me that their is beauty in what we quickly identify as pain.

Gush. Pop. Water broke. Ahh relief (for now). Damn, meconium. Not to worry, I had seen this before. Believe. Baby will be here soon. Stay focused.

I thought pushing was supposed to be the best part..that's what I read. Yep, burning ring of fire..uh huh..feels on fire baby! It was during these contraction and pushing I began to get weary. A song. A song came over me. One I am not familiar with but know the chorus. 

"Your love is, your love is, your love is strong." 

Over and over those words came and I found a new rhythm. One of determination and well, no one else is going to push this baby out, so you better get to it Katy. 

Grunts. Moans. Relief. 

I kept reaching down to feel the head. I didn't believe I was making "progress." Mostly because of my previous labor experience. But sure enough I could feel more head and I was eager to push more. I knew I was close when I saw the baby nurses come in. Though their were more nurses in the room than usual because of the meconium, I was grateful for their appearance and it meant my baby was minutes away from joining us. 

One last push. 10:04am. Pause. Push.
Deep cry, oh here is the baby.
"Dad do you want to tell mom what baby is?"
"It's a BOY!!!" 

His warm slippery body on my chest is one memory I wish I could pause, perhaps relive a few times just so I could soak in every detail. His cry, deep and manly. His hair, shiny black. What? Black hair, where did that come from? Oh plump rolls. Kisses from my babies' daddy and a huge sigh of relief. It is finished.

I will leave all the other not so fun details out, placenta, loss of blood etc. In my mind, I was focused on our new baby boy and it's funny how all those other things don't matter in a moment such as holding this baby for the first time in my arms. I will note that he was a big boy. 14.5 circumference head and 9lbs13oz of chub! He was also posterior (like Jamison) and most of the nurses were impressed I was able to push him out with how his head was positioned. You can thank his big bro for that one! 

I've thought about those few hours many times in the last month and a half. I am in awe of my body and what it was created to do. I hope to come to a deeper understanding and love for these stretch marks and body aches due to birthing two babes. 

This experience has changed my life.
"Wherever and however you intend to give birth, your experience will impact your emotions, your mind, your body, and your spirit for the rest of your life." ~Ina May Gaskin





 






Crosby Rian
February 17, 2013 10:04am
9lbs 13oz, 22 inches





About This Blog

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"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."

~Henri Nouwen