Pregnancy and Delivery Thoughts

Some thoughts about pregnancy and delivery have been rambling around my head lately, and I wanted to write them down before I forgot.  Because Mom-brain is a real thing, y'all.  Don't underestimate it.  Here we go.

• Pregnancy is most likely not what you thought it'd be.  Some people have terrible morning sickness.  Some people experience huge weight gains.  I always thought I would gain a lot of weight and be super bloated.  I wasn't entirely wrong, as I was pregnant during one of the worst (at least it felt that way to me) summers we've had as far as heat and humidity.  I gained approximately 40 pounds while pregnant.  My ankles were swollen pretty much the entire time, and from the second trimester on, I had terrible heartburn. I've never had heartburn before, and it was awful.  Every. Single. Day.  Then, once I delivered, I haven't had it since.  The human body does weird things while pregnant.  It's best to remind yourself it's temporary.  
• Ultrasounds are few and far between.  I had exactly two ultrasounds when I was pregnant - once at 8 weeks, and once at 20 weeks.  That was it, even though I'd had a miscarriage the November before.  We heard my baby's heartbeat at every visit, which was reassuring, but didn't get to see the baby very much at all.  I get that it wasn't medically necessary, but still.  I was expecting more ultrasounds.  
• The 20 week ultrasound is a doozy.  It must have been just me, but that ultrasound was not very fun.  I mean, it was fun leading up to it because I knew we'd find out the gender, but the actual ultrasound was not.  You have to have a full bladder for the ultrasound, and did I mention it's for an hour?  Please tell a 20 week pregnant lady to keep her bladder full for an hour and think that's just going to be okay.  I literally thought I would pee on the table and told the ultrasound tech as much.  She wasn't too sympathetic and said, "Well, you'd be the first."  I was fully prepared to hold that title.  Surprisingly, I didn't.  But still.  No one tells you that.  
• So. Much. Bloodwork.  I don't know if it was just me, but I was in getting bloodwork done all the time.  Or doing the glucose tests (oh yes, I had to do the 1 hour and 4 hour).  The phlebotomist literally knew me by name.  The good news is that they have a terrible time drawing my blood, so we got to know each other quite well.  
• Write out a birth plan, but be prepared to throw it out the window.  I'm glad I didn't have an actual written birth plan.  I knew it was a good idea I didn't because I didn't even deliver in the same HOSPITAL as I wanted to.   I'd list everything that went according to my birth plan, but that list would be empty.  They did ask me my must have's, and thankfully I only had two (skin-to-skin once baby came, and Greg cutting the umbilical cord), which they respected.  Good intentions are wonderful, but have no place in a delivery room.
• They mean it when they say ask for the epidural early.  I wasn't going to have an epidural.  I guess that went right.  When I was sobbing for it at 6 cm dilated, they said okay.  I thanked God in heaven.  Then, somewhere else in the hospital, someone needed an emergency C-section.  By the time the anesthesiologist got to my room, I was 10 cm dilated and already pushing.  I literally saw the Dr. wave them off as if I didn't see them come into the room.  It ended up working out, but a natural birth hurts.  Like woah.  
• Once the baby comes, that doesn't mean the hard part is over.  I literally heard from everyone I knew that once baby comes, the hard part is over.  For me, that wasn't the case.  Part of the reason Caleb was early is there was an infection in the placenta.  Which meant it didn't just slide out after he was born.  It was hard and painful and there was talk of surgery if it didn't come out.  *TMI ALERT* Thankfully, some Dr. who I met about 4 hours earlier was able to literally reach up and scrape out the rest of the placenta.  Oh yes.  That happened.  Ouch.  I couldn't tell you that Dr.'s name but I am appreciative of her.  
• After delivery, you are delirious.  At least I was.  They were trying to tell me everything that happened with Caleb and what he would need and why he had complications, but I couldn't focus on anything.  I'm so glad Greg was there to retain all of that information, because they would've needed to tell me about 5 more times for it to sink in.  
• Even with complications, you aren't in the hospital long.  I suffered quite a bit of blood loss and couldn't stand on my own, but less than 24 hours later I was discharged from the hospital.  Granted, they wanted to discharge me ASAP so we could go down to Ann Arbor to join Caleb, but it still shocked me how quickly I was discharged.  Remember when I said I didn't get the epidural?  I was glad at this point I didn't, so my recovery was easier.  
• Breastfeeding is hard.  I'm not sure I can have an opinion on this, because I was never able to actually breastfeed.  They took him away to Ann Arbor at first, and then I had to pump because he was on IV fluids.  I think it was about a week in before they were giving him milk but they wanted it pumped, and once we were released we needed to fortify the milk with formula so I still pumped.  Four weeks in Caleb stopped taking breastmilk (we think because I had an infection), and that was that.   Just like everything else, breastfeeding may not be what you think it will be.
• NICU nurses are the best.  Truly.  They took such good of my son, both in Covenant and at Ann Arbor.  They are compassionate and understanding and patient, and they want the best for you and your baby.  Not five hours after giving birth and still in a wheelchair, they were patient and let me hold my son, tubes and wires and all, as much as I could until the flight team came and took him on his first helicopter ride.  
• NICU life is much different than regular life.  NICU life is on a 3 hour check schedule.  The doctors and surgeons do rounds early in the morning, and I'm not sure their schedules because I saw the same ones for days on end.   You want to bond with the other parents in the NICU, but literally can't because of HIPAA regulations.  Your nurses are your advocates if you need help.  We were in room 41 - which means there were at least 40 other rooms (and there were more than that) of babies needing intensive care.  You overhear that they aren't sure if they have room for another transfer.  You see all of the tubes and wires and oxygen and medicines that these babies are hooked up to.  So. Many. IVs.  So many wires.  You can't even see the babies under all of them.  And half the time they are so tiny anyway.  You walk onto the floor and you can sense the sheer exhaustion.  The small hopes that people have to cling to.  The strength they dig deep to find.  You want perspective?  Visit a children's hospital.  Not even the NICU floor, just a children's hospital, and look around.  See all of the children that need care.  Realize how amazingly blessed you are.
• Your definition of superhero changes.  At Mott, they have Superman and Spiderman figures in the lobby.  The kids love them.  But to me, they aren't superheroes.  The real superheroes are the babies and children fighting for their lives every day.  The real hero is my son, who had two surgeries within three days of his life and fought to gain weight to be released.  He's been through so much already, and we have a little more to go.  But he's a fighter.  He's a victor.  And he's my hero.  The least I can do is love him the best I can.  

Decision and Indecision

Why do we fear the unfamiliar?  What is it about not knowing that makes is so uncertain, so timid?  Even if our current situation isn't what we want, and we know, deep down to our core, that it's not right for us, what makes us stay there, sometimes indefinitely it feels like?

Because if you think about it, is it truly safer to stay where you are?  We like the familiar because it's safe.  We know what to expect.  But do we?  I think sometimes our situations can present even more problems, more unrest, more discontent even as we try to convince ourselves "At least I know what's coming."  But do you?

It seems like I know a lot of people (myself included) that are unsure as to their next steps.  They know what they're doing isn't what they should be doing, but they're not sure how to change it.  Or they have two (or three or four) options and aren't sure which would be best, or which is God's plan.  I don't know if it's because I'm turning 30 in a few months or not, but it's something that's been on my heart a lot lately.

I know that "We make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps." -Proverbs 16:9  But what if whatever we choose is the best plan?  What if God just wants us to decide, then have peace in the decision?  What if God's next steps for us is just to change - whatever that might look like?  

I feel like I've tried a number of things that I thought was God's plan for me, but they weren't - or at least they weren't at the time.  I'm to the point where I'm a little jaded about things.  Sometimes I think it'd be easier to go back to being young, naive, and full of dreams - now I feel wiser but also cynical.  I'm not sure what is a better combination. The paths that God has taken me down I don't regret, and I've learned a lot about myself in the process.

One of the most important things I've learned is that when I fail, it doesn't mean I'm a failure.  My actions have nothing to do with my self-worth.  And that's a hard-fought lesson that took me my entire life to learn, because I'm still learning it.  My identity is found in Jesus, and that's what I cling to, and that's why I can strike out and try new things - and fail at them.  (Looking at you, quilting business and master's degree.)

I wasn't sure I wanted kids.  Then we had the miscarriage, and it's changed my outlook on it.  I do want kids.  I dream about them.  I dreamt my miscarriage was a little girl, and I'll never hold her in this life.  But maybe that's not what God wants for me.  Maybe his plan is different, and kids are just another thing I fail at in order to fall once again at Jesus' feet and let myself be found in Him.

Maybe my success is right around the corner, but maybe it's years away. But I'll never know until I decide to change something.  My pastor has a great saying: "If nothing changes, nothing changes."  I can't do the same thing and expect different results.  I must put myself out there (again) and try something new.  It might be the best thing I could ever do.  It might be a crash and burn terrible failure.  But I'll never know unless I try, and I know that, in the end, God always has me, and He cares for me.  If I seek Him, everything else falls into place.  But I still have to take the steps - I still have to make the changes.

God wants me to have life to the full, and He promises to never leave me.  What else do I need to know to have the courage to take me where I think He's leading me?  In the end, I'm always His.  So no decision is a wrong one, because I learn either way.  The only wrong decision is no decision.  God loves us too much to leave us where we are.

Please join me in this journey to the unknown.  Perhaps we'll learn something about ourselves together.

Barcelona 2015

This November Greg and I were blessed to be able to go to Barcelona, Spain!  Greg was picked to be a junior coach in Dow's Propel to Excel program, so he left October 27th for two and a half weeks of training and seminars.  I joined him November 13th for a little vacation time after his seminar.

I put up some pictures on Facebook, but I wanted to write down some of the cultural things from the city before I forgot them.  The city itself is beautiful and I always enjoy experiencing other cultures.  A few notes if you decide to go:

• Dog friendly: Barcelona is probably the most dog friendly city I've seen.  If you're on the boardwalk and beach, most dogs are off-leash.  They play with each other, jump in the sea, play fetch, or run alongside their owners.  Further in the city, they sit wth their owners at cafes, join them on the Metro, and walk alongside them on the sidewalks.  I even saw them inside restaurants.  
• Bad directions: we got lost quite a few times, and I'll be honest, I was getting frustrated.  There are no street signs; sometimes there are plaques on buildings that indicate which street you're on, but not always.  Sometimes there are tourist signs pointing you a certain way, but they don't say how far away the destination is and there may not be another one even though you have to turn somewhere.  Some of the streets are pedestrian only, so if you ask directions and they say three streets and a left, does that include pedestrian streets or streets for cars?  Overall, very confusing.  The Metro was nice; it was once we got off of it that we got in trouble.  
• English music: all of the stores and restaurants play music in English, and there's no rhyme or reason to it.  I think some of the shop owners don't even know what they're saying in the songs, but it was oddly comforting to hear.  
• Sewage smell: you never know when it's coming, and you can't predict it, so it's always a surprise, but you will get hit with a sewage smell.  It dissipates after a few seconds. 
• Speak English not Spanish:  Barcelona is in the Catalonia region of Spain, and they speak Catalan.  Which is not Spanish.  I tried to speak Spanish, and people couldn't understand me.  I got farther speaking English than I did Spanish.  They do say "hola" and "que tal" and "gracias" (pronounced "grathias") and some Spanish words, but for the most part, it's not Spanish.  Most people who work in shops or restaurants speak a little English, so you're okay, but I thought I would be more comfortable than I was.  I might as well have been in Italy for how much good my Spanish did me.  :)
• Eating, cooking methods, and menu del dia:  Barcelona eats a small breakfast, a large lunch around 1-2pm, tapas around 5-6pm, then dinner around 9-10pm.  I don't think I ever got used to that.  For lunch, most restaurants have a menu del dia (menu of the day) which is predetermined and usually two courses and wine.  It made it easy because it was a special and there weren't too many choices, but honestly, I was glad I couldn't see most of the cooking methods.  Washing knives in between was non-existent.  Same with cutting boards.  Even washing hands between tasks was rare.  I never got sick from it but it's one of those things where you don't want to know.  Spain isn't Mexico so we didn't have tacos or quesadillas, but they do have some delicious food from all over the world (yummy Italian, Irish, American, Chinese, you name it) besides local cuisine.  
• Safety:  Barcelona is the second worst city for pickpocketing (behind Paris, and they go back and forth) so I was extremely nervous about the city.  But honestly, there wasn't a time where I didn't feel safe.  I bought a travel bag that was slash-proof, had RFID blocking pockets, locking zippers, etc., and I was glad I had it, but I'm not sure I needed it.  Don't have your phone out all the time and identify yourself as a tourist, be aware of your surroundings, and you'll be fine.  I never felt unsafe, even on the Metro, even at night.  That was a nice surprise.  

We did experience something interesting with the terrorism attacks on Paris; after they occurred, we saw vans full of police officers, heavily armed, patrolling the areas.  They weren't being intrusive or anything, but their presence was definitely known and felt, and Greg said it was new because he hadn't seen them before.  Honestly, they made me feel a little safer knowing they were there, and I didn't feel too nervous being in Europe after that happened.  I'm grateful that God kept us safe and we still had a great time.

Check out my pictures on Facebook and let me know if you have any questions.  These are just some of my observations of my time in Barcelona.  We didn't see anywhere near everything the city has to offer, and it's a beautiful place.  It's not high on a lot of people's lists for places to visit, so I think it's a little bit of a best kept secret.  They did just vote to secede from Spain (the Catalonia region) so it might get a little worse as far as political discourse, but it's a wonderful place to visit.  :)

Miscarriage & Loss

I took my first test on October 4th, 2015.

We'd been trying for a few months, I'd been feeling a little strange, and was a few days late.  The test read positive right away, and I have to be honest, I was a little nervous.  I am the youngest child in our family, so I didn't have much experience with babies.  We'd decided to decide on kids by the time we were 30, which Greg turned in July.  So we decided.

"I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His word I put my hope."  -Psalm 130:5

My gynocologist stopped doing OB, so I needed a new Doctor.  I called someone new and they wouldn't see me for 8 weeks, but I guess that's normal.  I called at about four weeks because I was experiencing what I thought was abnormal bleeding, but the nurse assured me that it was normal because the egg was implanting on the uterine wall.  I took another test and it still said pregnant.  So onward I went.

Both Greg and I tried not to get too attached.  We knew that miscarriages happened a lot more than people talked about, and we didn't want to get too excited.  But as the weeks progressed, I couldn't help but think that we were doing well.  I bought some newborn shoes for me to take to Spain so we could take a baby announcement picture.  We planned on telling our families during Thanksgiving.  I started a new board on Pinterest.  I was excited for my first picture of the baby.

I was experiencing more bleeding than normal the first few days of this week, but I tried not to worry - I'd be at the Doctor on Wednesday.

Greg is already in Spain, so my BFF Jen came with me to my ultrasound.  I was nervous because I'd never experienced anything like this before.  The ultrasound tech started with the gel and outside ultrasound, and explained she couldn't see much because my uterus is apparently tilted.  Okay, no big deal.  We started the vaginal ultrasound.  The tech was labeling different parts of my anatomy and was quiet.  I didn't think much of it because she was quiet for the first one too.  But then she took one more picture and froze it on the screen.  She explained that I had a gestational sac that measured six weeks along.  But there wasn't anything in it.

She said this sometimes happens.  My body thought I was pregnant.   Things were growing like I was pregnant.  But I wasn't.  Somewhere along the line I lost the fertilized egg.  There was no baby.

It took me a while to process.  My doctor came in to go over my options.  Since I'm leaving the country next week, she recommended a D&C to make sure I'd be okay to go.  They had a spot available at 7:30am on Thursday.  She told me this at 3:30pm on Wednesday.  I had to decide.

Greg was in Spain and I couldn't reach him.  I had to make the decision on my own.  Jen and I cried together.  I held in it until I told her I bought the shoes.  There was no baby to wear them.  I decided to go through with the surgery.

I talked to Greg later that night, and he agreed.  He wanted to be there, but even if he took the next flight out he wouldn't make it.  He had to stay in Spain.  Jen would take me to the hospital, and Christina, Greg's sister, would come too.  I wouldn't be alone.

I made calls to my family that night, and cried a lot more.  We waited for so long.  We made sure we were ready.  We did everything right.  And we still lost the baby.

The Midland hospital was fantastic.  Everyone was nice and welcoming and knowledgable.  I'm apparently a great candidate for anesthesia, because both times I had it I'm knocked right out, and when I wake up I'm lucid and alert and not loopy at all.  The surgery was a success, and I was officially not pregnant again.  Jen stayed with me all day yesterday to make sure I was okay, but I felt fine.  Some light cramping, a little bleeding, but overall, it was over.  I stayed home today too on Doctor's orders to not overdo it.

I think it's better that there wasn't a baby.  It would've been much harder for me if there was.  Christina lost her baby at 14 weeks, so we had pictures and ultrasounds and there was her little child, her little baby growing inside her.  I didn't have that.  I feel like God knew it would be harder for me if there was.  I'm not sure what happened to our little baby, but he/she wasn't ours to keep.

I'm astounded by the outpouring of support from the people I love.  It's been incredible.  And honestly, I had no idea so many people I knew have experienced something like this.  They say 1 in 4, but based on my experience and the people that reached out to me, I'd say the number is closer to 50%.  From the very bottom of my heart, thank you all for sharing your stories with me.  It's so comforting to know I'm not alone.  My heartbreak is not new, but instead shared.  I'm not alone, I am surrounded by people who've felt the same loss and loneliness.  My struggle is mine, but it is also part of those around me.

I honestly thought that since Christina had this happen to her, it wouldn't happen to me.  But it did.  And here I am, still childless.  Doubts creep in.  Maybe we're not meant to have children, since this happened with our first.  Maybe we're not ready.  Maybe I did something wrong.  I'm trying to cling to the fact that I know God has a plan for me, and it's always better than my plan.

"Taking us through suffering, not out of it, is one of the primary means that the Spirit uses today in bringing us to God."  -Daniel Wallace

I'm excited to see my husband and finally be able to share this loss together.  I'm not going to lie, I'm excited to be able to drink Spanish wine.  I'm hopeful for the future, whether that means trying again or not.  But most of all, I rest in the knowledge that I'm never alone, for Jesus is always with me.  And He's given me an incredible circle of support.  I pray we can lean on each other in the struggles.  I'm given these experiences for a purpose.  Let my life show it, always.

We'd been trying for a baby for about 100 days before we got pregnant.  It took 56 days to know we lost the baby.  No matter how small, I will meet my baby again.  No matter how small, all lives matter.  For now, I pray for God's peace and comfort in this new journey He's given me.

Say Something.

I feel like, even in the middle of summer, this time of year will always be hard for me.  Not only did we lose Greg's cousin Jason to suicide in late June last year, the anniversary of Robin Williams' death is coming up in a few days (August 11th).  As you may recall, his death hit me a lot harder than most deaths have, and it is still resonating.

Since last year, I've been increasingly vocal about my struggle with depression and tried to spread the word to #stopthestigma around mental illness.  Often it's treated as a shameful thing, or something that one can "snap out of" or "just feel better."  But it's so much more than that, and with the power of social media and the internet, I now know just how not alone I am.

1 in 4 people in their lives will experience some sort of mental illness, yet we still don't talk about it.  At it's most basic, mental illness is the feeling of being alone.  Like no one else has gone through what you're going through, like no one else has felt what you are feeling.  And maybe, that no one else has the extreme lack of feeling that you have.  It's a solitary disease, and one that makes sure, through the symptoms, that you remain alone.  If you are depressed, you physically don't feel like going out.  All you want to do is sleep.  You are exhausted all the time.  All signs point to the solitary existence that takes over.

I read a quote recently that says suicide doesn't stop the pain - it just transfers it to someone else.  I think that is so true.  It's hard to realize at the time, because you feel so utterly alone in the world, but you aren't.  And even if they don't show it, there are a ton of people who are feeling your absence.  I see it with all of the people that hurt when they think of Greg's cousin Jason.  So many lives touched by how he took his.  Did he know that would happen? Did he realize that we are still feeling it, a year later?  How we'll continue to feel it?

But in that pain, in that world, you don't.  You assume no one cares.  Why might someone come to that conclusion?  Because they feel people don't care when they're alive.  Because others don't know how to bring it up, they don't bring it up at all.  To avoid being uncomfortable or embarrassed, they shove the problem into the background.  And in a world where you already feel alone, when no one talks about what's going on, it just makes it worse.  And in a world where it's not okay to talk about being depressed or having a mental illness, it's hard to bring it up.

It's time we opened up about how we feel.  It's time we stop judging others for their struggles, because if we look at ourselves, we have struggles too.  And sometimes they're more front and center, and sometimes no one knows about them.  In either case, the struggle exists.  If we all support each other, we can take steps towards healing.

I know it sounds like a big task to undertake.  But sometimes, truly, it's not.  It's a text, or a phone call.  Not even about depression, or mental illness.  Sometimes it's just a "Hey" or something about their job or their favorite sports team or their pet.  Sometimes it's just the fact that someone thought of you, and cares enough to ask about you.  And when you get close through these little conversations, ask how they're doing.  At first, they won't tell you a thing.  They'll pretend all is fine.  But I hope you know how important those little conversations are.  I hope you know the solid base you're building with that person.  Because when they do need help, when they do feel at the end of their fight, you just might be the person they reach out to.  Because you've proven you care.  They know they can count on you.  You may have no idea the struggle they are facing.  But you're about to.  And being there for someone is the best thing you can do.

I'm so encouraged by all of the stories that are coming out, all of the struggles brought into the light.  Only when things are in the light can we face them, and defeat them.  Satan works best in those dark, solitary places.  Don't allow him to overwhelm you.  Come into the light, and allow God and others to show you there's a better way.  John 1:5 - "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."  It doesn't mean the fight is over - probably far from it.  But at least you'll know you have a team of supporters.  And when you fall to the bottom, they'll be there to hold out a hand.  Allow them to.  Talk about it.  Let them remind you that you are a child of God, and you are wholly and deeply loved.  Cling to that in the hard times.  Rejoice in it in the good times.

But above all, let's talk about it.  So we all know, deep in our hearts, we're not alone.

**If you need someone to talk to, please contact me.  I'd be happy to speak with you about your struggle, and share mine.  #stopthestigma

She Speaks 2015 Conference

By now most of you know that I attended the She Speaks conference in Concord, North Carolina this past Friday and Saturday (July 24th and 25th).  I thought I'd give you a little rundown of the conference, plus it inspired me to write more, so this is my first attempt.  :)

I drove down to NC on Thursday.  For those of you who are wondering, it's about a 12 hour drive with stops.  (The rush hour traffic I hit in NC didn't help either.)  Once you got to the Appalachian mountains, though, it was a very pretty drive.  I checked into my hotel and got Chick-Fil-A for dinner, since we don't have those in mid-Michigan and they're pretty fantastic.  Yum!

Friday I was so nervous it was ridiculous.  I can't remember the last time I went to a conference by myself, and I knew no one.  Not one single other person.  The pep talk I gave myself was not nearly sufficient, but passable.  My room was on the sixth floor, and I took the elevator to the first, only to think I forgot my phone.  Back up to the sixth floor I went, when I realized I did have my phone (see what I mean?  Nerves.).  So back down to the first, when the elevator stops on the 4th floor, and I meet Courtney, also going to the conference.  Hallelujah and thank you God for sending me a friendly face!  Down at breakfast we met another woman, Michelle, who was going to the conference, and I was feeling a little better.

The conference itself was at the Embassy Suites, and they had all sorts of booths set up for vendors, authors, and publishers that attended.  Each morning and evening in the main sessions with everyone we had worship, and they had an incredible worship band.  That also helped to calm me down a little.  There were 800 women in attendance at this conference, and apparently 700 on the waiting list.  Kind of a big deal!  Lysa TerKeurst, an incredible author and one of the leaders at Proverbs 31 ministries, gave the opening message.  Then we went to different breakout sessions.  My publisher appointment was at 11:45am with an editorial director, and oh boy, the nerves came back!  Thankfully they had the sweetest Southern lady checking people in and out, and we chatted for a while waiting for the editor.  God is so good.

I spoke with the editor, who was super nice and seemed interested in my work - yay!  Since I literally just finished my manuscript and they aren't accepting fiction right now, she told me to take a few weeks to edit my work before I sent her the proposal.  Honestly, I was really happy with that because a) my proposal won't get lost in the tons of proposals she will receive from the conference and b) I could use some time to edit it and make sure it's right!  I felt good coming out of the meeting, and felt really good getting my first "real" meeting with a publisher accomplished.

In the afternoon I met with a self-publishing company and learned all about what they have to offer and how the process works for self-publishing.  It's fairly involved, and almost two thirds of books now are self-published.  It was good to understand the process and learn what goes into it for sure.

The first day didn't end till about 10pm!  The second day was great as well, with a session from Lysa TerKeurst herself on how to write a book - very informative!  It surprised me that at least 90% of the writers at the conference (because there were speakers as well) were non-fiction writers (devotionals, Christian living, memoir, etc.).  I was a little unique in my fiction writing, which I was not expecting!

I was so glad to be a part of this conference.  I learned so much, got to speak with authors with experience, learn more about the publishing and agenting and editing world, and worship with some great ladies.  I met a lot of wonderful people there and am excited (even more) to continue with my writing aspirations.  I'm seriously considering going back next year and learning even more.

I'm still a long way off from a book deal, but it was so awesome to take this first step and to gain more confidence in my writing.  I believe I'm following God's path for my life, and I am trying to follow the steps He places in front of me, this conference being one of them.  I think as long as I rely on Him and His timing, I'll be able to complete the work He's prepared in advance for me to do, which is so exciting!

Prayers for my journey are very appreciated!  :)

Thoughts in Church

In my house growing up, we didn't go to church.  Like, not even on holidays.  So sometimes, even though I've been going to church for quite a while, I still feel like an outsider.  (Especially when they reference some sort of song or something that apparently children learn and then say, "come on, everyone knows this!" Um, no they don't.  But thanks for pointing it out.) 

I often wonder what other people think about when they're in church, especially those that have been going to church for a while.  These are my thoughts while in church - what are yours?

Entering the Sanctuary: "What do those colors mean?"  We go to a Lutheran church, and there are certain colors that correspond with certain...holidays?  I'm still not sure.  Sometimes there isn't a color, and I'm not sure what that means either. But I know there's red, which I think has something to do with Pentecost maybe?  Green is in the summer, because it was green when I got married.  White...maybe Easter?  You can see these colors have had a profound effect on me.  I know they are important and ritualistic for reasons that are important to other people, but they don't mean much to me.  They're not normally talked about.  I usually ask Greg what they mean (he attended a Lutheran church all his life and went to Lutheran school) and he can help me out.  But that's usually my normal first thought.  

Greeting one another:  I'm not going to sugarcoat it: I HATE THIS PART.  Honestly, the worst part of church.  Greeting one another - really?  Shaking the hands of the people around me - is that supposed to make me feel welcome?  It's never enough time to get a conversation going because everyone is always moving on to the next person, and honestly, I don't know if I would want to strike up a conversation with some random stranger that happens to be sitting next to me at church.  There's no point.  Even if you know everyone around you and can say "good morning" to them, that's all you get.  Again, no meaningful conversation here.  And we used to do this at His House too, where I DID know everyone around me, and I still hated it.  Ugh.  This is what's called a "cringe factor" to me - something that is uncomfortable enough to make a newcomer cringe or never come back.  Yikes.  

Opening Music: We sing 3-4 songs to open the service.  I honestly love the music part.  I normally listen to Air1, a Christian rock radio station, and music speaks to me (wow, cliche much?).  Sometimes they play old school songs that we used to play at His House, and those really mean a lot to me, because those were the first Christian songs I heard.  Give me a good "Open the Eyes of my Heart" or "Breathe" or "Amazing Love" and I'm happy.  There are a couple of songs that are honestly really overdone, but I muscle through those and just pray that wasn't the last song they are doing.  :)

The Message: I normally like the message.  Both of our pastors are excellent speakers that talk about relevant topics.  I bring a little journal with me and write down verses that speak to me or something the pastor said that was profound.  

The Offering: I don't mind this part; however, we give online (because our church offers that option) and I still feel weird not putting anything in there.  I want to let the people know around me "We give online!"  I think that might just be me being insecure.  

The Lord's Prayer:  This is the one part of our service that we say in unison as a church.  Sometimes it's difficult to not just say it and not really think about it.  I try to focus on the "Give us this day our daily bread" part because it reminds me that God will provide, even if it's a day at a time.  And really, that's all we need, is just today's worries.  We don't need to borrow tomorrow's.  

Communion:  We do communion every week at our church, and I think it might be one of my favorite parts (and not just because the wine is really good).  I told myself that if I survived my depression and cutting, I would thank Jesus for how many times he rescued me as a teenager.  because he did - over and over and over.  So every week when I take the wine, I look up at the cross over the altar and thank Jesus - over and over and over.  Thank him for saving my life, for believing in me, for loving me enough to not leave me where I was, but help me to be more centered in Him.  Communion is a time that helps me remember my relationship with Christ's origins, and how far I've come.  It encourages me to keep on going and live the life He wanted for me.  It reminds me of how truly truly loved I am.  

I'd love to hear your favorite/least favorite parts of church :)