A Little Splash of the Pools

Hi!

I'm back.

Where was I? I'll tell ya. Somewhere other than 'Merica, "Land of the Free." Abigail has been holding me hostage. She may be the most wonderful three month old, but she is smart. Smart and a little manipulative. This is not an exaggeration, but everytime I would open my computer to start blogging, a piercing WAAAAAAAAA would strike the Pool House. She's lucky I love her more than my blog.

Anyway, I have plenty to write. If I get off topic, bare with me. (I said "if" as if i might...ha. ha. I will.) Abigail is in her bouncer across from me and making me giggle.

I never really wrote a blog about life at Seminary. I'll begin by saying I hated it...or at least HIGHLY disliked. I'm just going to be vulnerable here. Lay it all out. My husband already knows. Coming up here almost seemed like a mistake. I tried my hardest not to bring my bitterness of moving into our marriage. Unfortunately, I did. I was sad every day. Josh was working his fanny off trying to pursue his calling to be at Seminary, and I sat my fat pregnant bottom at home and just cried. Or complained. Or criticized. Or whined. Phillippians 2:14 says, "Do all things without grumbling or questioning..." I definitely grumbled. I definitely questioned. Why would God make us move a thousand miles away from all that we've known to move to a place that is so unfit for me? In that question, there was so much selfishness. We KNOW God called us here. Josh received an incredible scholarship to come here and the only thing we pay for is housing. He was confirmed time and time again that Gordon-Conwell was where he should be.

You know what I didn't do? Pray.
I completely lost sight of WHO God is because I let my discomfort and resentment get in the way. Every day I wondered why I wasn't growing, and now I've come to a conclusion. My hope wasn't in the Lord. My fears and anxiety were building up in me, and I wasn't doing a lick about it.
I joined this Tuesday night group, called Partners in Ministry. It was for women at seminary that were going to be pastor's wives. That's me. A pastor's wife-in-the-making. Once we split into groups, we went around the table to introduce ourselves and say a little somethin, somethin about ourselves. The lady next to me was first to go, so obviously I was last around the circle. All seven of the women went around the table and said they either worked alongside their husband as a youth pastor, has already been a pastor's wife (in another country), worked at the church, or anything else church-related. By the time it was my turn to speak up, I had already felt completely inadequate and so discouraged. Nobody was like me. I felt so....normal. I've only been a Christian for three years. Everyone else has been their entire life. I went home to Josh with such a spirit of sadness. Just another thing to get in my way. Josh was so encouraging through it all though. He would go to the library after class and write me letters saying how much he loves me. That may seem like a small gesture to you, but to me it meant so much. My two love languages are gifts & words of affirmation. Thank you, Lord for such a sweet, loving husband.

Looking back on the past four months, I think the one thing that was missing in our lives was a church. Do you know how ridiculous "church shopping" sounds? Or how it makes you feel? Blah. That's what. It felt like every time we tried a new church, we had to rate it. Which one was going to be more "appealing" to us? Which one is going to make us feel more welcome? One had to seem better than the rest. Anyway, after five very different churches, we found one! yippe! The pastor was speaking straight from the Bible. Truth was being taught. Hearts were being changed. Lives were being saved. That's what matters.

Every Tuesday night we go to our pastor's home for a community group. If you haven't joined one in your church, do it. It builds community, number 1, and number 2, it's encouraging and uplifting. We really are so incredibly grateful to have found this church and feel like we actually "fit in."

So, all this to say, four months later, we're comfortable. Lately I have been reminded that it's a brand new day. "Today is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it." -Psalm 118:24 Abigail and I pray that every morning. Josh always tells me we have two choices: let our circumstances get in the way of our joy, or be glad in what we're given.

Josh and I definitely miss "home," but we finally feel like we can call this place my new home. At least temporarily. I am comfortable here. I still hate the driving. The weather is still not on my good list. But our community is what's really kept me going.

Prayer:

Thank you, Jesus for your incredible provision. Thank you for your calling. Thank you that your ways are much higher than my own. Thank you for being mindful of me. Thank you for listening. Thank you for a husband who puts my needs above his own. Thank you for our church. Thank you for new friends. Thank you for disciplining me. Thank you for leading me. Thank you for directing me. Thank you for correcting me. Thank you for teaching me. Thank you for making me in your image. Thank you for loving me. You are so good to my family.

7:37—a time that is probable to meaning nothing to you, but means the world to us. It’s the time that changed our lives forever.

Before I begin our story with details of labor & delivery, I have to start out by explaining the “fun” of pre-labor. And by fun, I mean THE dismal gloom of uncertainty. Once I hit week 37 of being pregnant, I was told, “She’s going to come out any day now!” (Really they were saying that to make me feel better… and because I was the size of Russia.) I googled, I texted all my mama friends, I believe I did it all. That’s right people, it was time to self-induce. Mama couldn’t take it anymore. No lie, my feet grew from a size 7 ½ pre-pregnancy to a size 8 ½ by the end of my pregnancy. I. was. swollen. I had bags under my eyes so bad it looked like black holes. My belly was so big if I leaned forward at all, I’d just topple over. So, yes, it was time. I was in complete desperation-mode. Josh, being the LOVING husband that he is, so graciously squeezed my pressure points on my ankles. I begged him to. This baby was COMIN’ OUT. I ran up and down the stairs in our apartment building sideways. I made “labor cookies.” (Seriously. My mom and I went to the grocery store and bought all the ingredients… and they were DAAAAAANG good!!) I bounced on a yoga ball all day for the last 4 weeks of pregnancy. We drove 40 minutes just for Pizza Hutt so I could have the spicy seasonings on my pizza. I used lots of hot sauce on my Taco Bell tacos. I ordered spicy chicken (#7 at Wendy’s in case you’re interested). None. Of. This. Worked.

Now, when I said “desperation-mode,” I meant it. That’s right people, we bought castor oil. I always told myself I would never take this. The side effects seem a little….not so fun. But like I said, desperate. Mom and I got home (Josh was at the library and had no idea) and it was go-time! Couple teaspoons of this mixed in OJ and I was ready to have me a baby girl!....so I thought. I read from people how quick it made them go into labor, and I read from others how it’s basically a death sentence to take. Once again, desperate. What’d I have to lose? My bowels? (sorry, bad joke.) People, I’m not lying here. I took this junk at 9 PM, went to bed (notice I said bed and not sleep) and within 3 hours I was in EXCRUTIATING pain. I didn’t get one second of sleep. 4 AM rolls around and thankfully Josh was awake at this point. How could he not be awake? I was walking around our apartment for six hours. I seriously felt like I was about to die. He dialed the hospital’s number for me…THIS WAS IT Y’ALL…ABIGAIL WILL BE HERE TODAY!!!..They answered the phone, asked me what it felt like. I calmly described it feeling like someone was taking a bag full of knives and stabbing them into my back and pelvis. Her response: “Excuse me?” “Yes,” I replied. “Knives. Someone is throwing knives at me. I’m in a lot of pain.” She suggested I take a warm bath to ease the pain. Silly nurse, I didn’t want to ease the pain. I wanted my baby! She told me to call back when my contractions got closer together. At this point they were already 5 minutes apart. At 9:00 AM, my mom, Josh, and I scurried our way to the hospital. We did a quick pose in front of the hospital for keepsake. After waddling my way up to Labor & Delivery, I get put in a room to be checked. A midwife came to check on me just to reassure me I was “probably not in active labor.” I was doing everything I could to hold back my tears because 1. I wanted to meet our sweet baby girl, and 2. My pain was miserable. On a scale of 1-10, I was a 15. The midwife told me that I needed to just go home and wait until my body goes into labor on its own. She basically told me being induced was not an option. Was she nuts?! I was already 6 days past my due date. Girl, it was TIME. Once she told me that, the waterworks came a’ rollin down my swollen face. I had 5 different doctors in the 8 appointments I’ve had here sense we moved here. Every single doctor told me a different thing. She was very sympathetic and decided if I hadn’t had Abbie by Thursday (in 4 more days), she would induce me and deliver me. I said, done deal. Now we go home and wait….and eat more labor cookies for the heck of it. The pain subsided and mom & I walked around the mall for 6 hours. Six. Hours. People. I had to buy new shoes because my feet were in so much pain! I know what you’re thinking, “Why didn’t you just go home and rest, stupid?” I tell ya why. Abigail wasn’t coming out of me from sitting down. I was walking this baby out of me. Night time rolls along and the pain is back in action and much worse. As in…a 25 on a scale of 1-10. My mom insisted I called the doctor. I really didn’t want to because I was positive I was just going to get turned down again. But, we all know mom’s know best! So, it’s 9AM and mom and I made our way back to the hospital. We drove there blind-folded because I’d been there so much. Just kidding. But seriously, been there so many times! Little does Josh know, mama is about to go into labor! I didn’t want to tell him and then get sent home again, so I waited. My original doctor happened to be on the rotation for the day, thank God! (I seriously prayed that she was the one to deliver me) She came in the room and said I was only at 2 centimeters. Two centimeters? Are you kidding me? I was 2 for the past week and a half! Then she informs me I’m still not in active labor. COME AGAIN?! She then gave me the option of going home to “wait it out” or staying there to be induced. You better BELIEVE my booty stayed right there in that hospital bed until Abigail Wrae Pool was born. Now….the fun part!

Text Josh. Yep, I texted. Just to rattle his boots a bit. “Doc says we’ll have our baby girl by midnight!” He was in class and had no idea we were even at the hospital. I’m mean, huh!? J My doctor said I would get IV at 11 and Pitocin an hour later. So by the time Josh got to the hospital, I was already starting to feel good. As a sidenote—Josh wasn’t being rude to finish his class and THEN come to the hospital, I told him to finish up because let’s be real, who really wants to come watch an IV prick me in the wrist? NOT ME! I couldn’t even look! Ok, I’m about to get pretty graphic, people.

I came in the hospital at “about 2 centimeters.” Doc checked me after Pitocin started and I was at 4 cm. So as contractions get stronger, OBVIOUSLY I’m going to play Family Feud on the Ipad. I needed to take my mind off of the pain. Eventually, we made it to the Fast Money Round (that’s my favorite part!) and I just couldn’t take the pain anymore. Y’all. I thought I was about to roll over and just die. (If you’re reading this and are pregnant…it’s not really THAT bad………….) Family Feud was put on hold, darn you, Pitocin! An hour goes by and I’m at 5 cm. So progress, terrific! Apparently you’re supposed to be a centimeter bigger every hour. Finally the Pitocin kicked in and I was feelin freeeeeeeeee! I can do this. I’m tougher than some contractions. I’m just sitting on the hospital bed like a beached whale while my nurse is talking to me and all of a sudden SOMETHING popped. “WOAH GROSS….something just…popped. And I’m soaking wet…” My water popped on its own! Wahooooo!! I didn’t want them to have to do it. Well, and hour later doc comes in and says she’s gonna check me and “hopefully you’re at 7 centimeters. Let’s check!” Here I am thinking she’s actually hoping for that….so she checks and says “Um…you’re at 10 centimeters! I’m shocked, honestly I didn’t even think you’d be at 7 centimeters yet.” I SHOWED THEM!

Now for the scariest moment of my life: “Alright guys, 7 o’clock I’ll be back and it’s time to push.” Wait…WHAT? I thought by midnight…

Now my eyes were glued to the clock. The more I looked at the clock, the more my stomach dropped. Oh wait, that was just the baby…but seriously, my heart sank. Our lives were about to be so different. But I couldn’t WAIT! This baby has been in me long enough, let’s come on out baby girl…seriously.

6:50… “Josh, we have ten minutes.” INHALE. EXHALE. INHALE. EXHALE. REPEAT. It still gives me chills thinking about it. Seven o’clock rolls around and the doctors haven’t come in yet. Good, more time to breathe and try to not freak out. As anxious as I was for Abbie to come into the world, I was COMPLETELY nervous about the process in order to get her here. The moment I saw blue scrubs at the door in the corner of my eye (I told you, my eyes were glued to the clock.), my heart skipped a beat…or two. They didn’t really even say, “It’s GO time!” It was, “Josh, grab her leg!” So mom was required (and I mean required) to stay north at all times.

On a side note: I have to be honest with you, I had two main concerns: 1. I REALLY hope I don’t poop on the table. Sorry. I told you it was gonna get a little graphic. 2. I NEEDED to get a recovery room immediately. I say that because when I went to the hospital for a non-stress test a week prior, I was told people have been poppin babies out left and right lately. Well, those are my words. Really they said it’s “been preeeeetty busy this weekend.” Apparently there was only one recovery room open and then a shared room. Shared Room: n. a place to recover with another mother while husbands/partners are at home. The husbands aren’t allowed to stay overnight, even if you were to deliver your little bamina/o at 3am due to liability. I was NOT getting this room. I WILL fight for it. Hunger Games style.

Okay, back to the story. In between each contraction I would push. Lucky me though, I couldn’t feel the contractions, we just saw it on the monitor thank goodness! This is the point where I turned into a monster. A real monster. I didn’t quite grasp the full concept of how to breathe AND push at the same time. The nurse demonstrated what I should be doing, while I on the other hand demonstrated what not to be doing. My face, as red as a tomato, blew up so big it looked like I was about to give birth out of my mouth. “No. you’re doing it wrong. Watch me.” says the not-so-humored nurse. Finally, I caught on. My very first push you could see her head. Josh turned to me teary-eyed and said, “I can see her! She’s RIGHT here!!” This is making me tear up right now. I wish I could relive this moment over and over and over. Anyway, the nurse says to keep on keepin’ on. So I push, and I push, and I push…my doctor walks in a few minutes into it and sat on the table Indian-style, sorta like a Buddha. Except she’s really tall and thin. All I keep hearing is, “yes, yes, yes!! Keep going!” If you coulda seen the look on my face…I was about to blow up from pushing. The pushing wasn’t painful at all, it was her darn head! You’ll see why in a few moments…So really quickly, I have to tell you that one of my many fears of delivering a baby is dying while giving birth. Seriously. So once I’m about 10 minutes into it, all of a sudden an oxygen mask gets put around my face! I cannot tell you how scared I was at this moment. I really thought I was about to die. So my eyes start filling up with tears, silly me….they were just trying to help me breathe a little easier. I continue to push…..and then I stop. Seriously, acid reflux in the middle of delivery. I was interrupted 3 times because of this. Yucky! Continue to push…and I’m itching EVERYWHERE. I looked like I had ticks. Apparently epidurals (don’t even get me started about my epidural.) can make some people itchy. I was that lucky “some people.” Next thing ya know, I hear “give it one more push!” and then “Congratulations! She is SO beautiful!!” 7:37. The moment that changed our lives. 22 minutes of pushing, and it was the best time of my life. Seeing Josh hold her was one of the most beautiful moments I've ever seen. It's what I'd been waiting for so bad. The love a father has for his daughter is so precious to me, and it's nothing compared to what our Father in Heaven has for Abbie.

This is sad, but the first thing I asked was if I...you know...went potty on the bed. I DIDN'T!! Second thing they said was that I won the battle!! I ended up delivering before the other two women so THEY got the shared room..suckas!! Actually, I did feel really bad for them because I'd hate to be there without my husband! But I was ONE happy camper!!

Now I’m a blubbering mess. This baby was created in the image of God, handcrafted by our Creator. I just wanted to stare at her! I felt so attached to her already. I couldn’t believe she is what we’ve been dreaming of and trying to picture for the past 41 (long) weeks. I had three specific prayers, and I know this might sound silly…but I prayed for her to have dimples, a head full of hair, and eyes like her daddy. All three were given. It’s the little things that bring so much joy! I love that about our God! He knows the desires of our heart, whether they’re small like this, or big. Our sweet baby girl is healthy and so gorgeous.

I could keep this story going for as long as she lives, but I’ll stop here. There’s so much to write about her! Her eyes twinkle. Her toes spread apart. Her cry makes me giggle. Sometimes it makes me cry. Her button-nose is so cute. Her smile is contagious. Her hands and feet are so soft. And her little bum…I could just squeeze it! But most importantly, she’s healthy. And for that, we are SO thankful. She’s one of the three greatest gifts I’ve ever received: redemption, marriage, and the birth of our baby girl.

7:37. A new creation blessed the Earth. Now I understand how my mom sees me—her little girl that she’d do anything for.