Resolutions

Okay, resolution time:

1. Continue to praise God every day with my actions and intent. 
2. Continue my journey to great health. 
3. Finally get back to scrapbooking regularly. 
4. Finish more projects. 
5. Learn to say, "No."  
6. Catch up on blogging and my website posts.

Number one seems like it should be easy to accomplish, on the surface, but focusing my thoughts on always being the type of person that pleases God is quite difficult.  You know that moment when you think, "Why is she wearing that?" or "Wow, that is not being a good parent," or "Why do others have so much when I have so little?"  Those moments of thought are the ones that do not follow God's word.  Those thoughts are judgmental and covetous.  See?  It really is difficult.

Number two is definitely happening, because I love the changes I have made and seen in myself over the past twelve months.  I am in much better health than I have been since my late teens, and being strong is so empowering.  Eating strictly vegan dishes, instead of mostly-vegan, cutting down the sweets (again), and not eating after 7:00 pm (again) are my first objects to tackle.  In addition, I have decided to change up my exercise routine a bit in the hopes of kick-starting my weight loss again.

Number three has been bothering me since we moved to Maryland.  In Minnesota, I cropped regularly (at least monthly) with a fantastic group of women at a local scrapbooking store, but I have yet to find such a place in Maryland just yet.  Have I really exerted much effort in the search?  Not so much.  My fault?  Absolutely.  Will I be rectifying this situation in short order?  Definitely.

Number four has been a personal challenge and cause for several years now.  I am horrible collector of ridiculously creative ideas and materials that never get used to their fullest potential.  Chronically.  The bulk of this trait can be referenced back to number three above.  I love resolutions that build on one another.

Number five is, by far, the single most difficult task ahead of me.  I love making people happy and spending time with others, which leads me to over-schedule my life sometimes and over-extend myself quite often.  I need to learn to say no in a kind and considerate, yet firm, way.  Please have patience with me while I endeavor to perfect this necessary balance in my life, friends and family.

Number six is all about procrastination and lack of desire to remain stationary for very long.  Someone should author an application for blogging via voice.  Boy, would I love to multi-task this way by blogging while on the treadmill at the gym.  Oh!  How about a treadmill or stationary bike with a built in tablet?  Now, who is the genius?  This gal.

30 Days of Gratitude: Day 17

As I posted today on Facebook, I need to refocus my trust in God to provide what we truly need, so I think it is time to start up some thankful posting.

Today, I am thankful for all the kind encouragement I get from my wonderful friends and family. You have no idea how happy it makes me that someone else can see and appreciate the art I cook up in my head. Thank you!

30 Days of Gratitude: Day 8

As I posted today on Facebook, I need to refocus my trust in God to provide what we truly need, so I think it is time to start up some thankful posting.


Today is so easy. Today, I am thankful for my N. She was my miracle baby six years ago, and she is still my little sweetheart. She has a huge heart and lots of attitude. Happy birthday, N! 

To call my N a miracle is not to be taken lightly.  The only reason she is alive is through the sheer grace of God.

We knew we wanted a third child, so Jim and I were overjoyed when it did not take long to get pregnant.  We thought that would be our last pregnancy, but that is an entirely different, and happy, story.  Everything seemed to be going along as expected with my third pregnancy until I slipped and fell in the bath tub at eight weeks.  At this point, I had not been to see my doctor yet, as per his policy of waiting until 12-14 weeks, and there would have been nothing for him to do if I had fallen badly enough to harm the baby or my womb.  As it was, nothing come of this fall other than a few ugly bruises.

At nineteen weeks pregnant, my stubbornness kicked in when my dishwasher stopped working while my husband was out of town on business.  What would a sane, rational, woman do?  Wait until her husband comes home to install a new one.  What did this insane, irrational, pregnant woman do?  Install it herself the same day he was due home.  I did not over-exert myself or put myself in any danger.  All seemed well.

After my husband returned home that evening, I picked up my then two-year-old daughter to take her to bed.  I felt a sharp pain in my side, but I thought nothing of it.  After tucking in my two other daughters, reading, and singing to them, I headed to the bathroom for the twentieth time that day, thinking it would be like any other day.  My husband knew there was a problem when I began shrieking from the bathroom.  I was bleeding.  That is one of the scariest things to see when one is mid-pregnancy.  Yes, spotting and some light bleeding is common in the beginning and the end of a pregnancy, but those months in between the two should be blood-free.  This was my third pregnancy, and I found myself in unknown territory.

Luckily, I had my mid-term ultrasound scheduled for the very next morning.  As I had already been having minor Braxton-Hicks contractions for weeks, I was quite anxious to have the ultrasound and know that my baby was fine.  Although the technician was not able to find a placental abruption, my doctor felt the need to keep a closer eye on me.  Research shows that only, approximately, fifty percent of placental abruptions can be diagnosed with ultrasound (that number could be different six years later, but those were the statistics when it applied to us).  

As the next two weeks ticked by, I began to notice a lot of cramping and tightness in my uterus.  Being experienced in birthing children, I knew this was not something I wanted to happen mid-pregnancy.  When I brought it up with my doctor, he immediately prescribed partial bedrest for the remainder of my pregnancy.  I was able to continue teaching in 1.5-hour slots of time, with my feet up, not playing my clarinet, and drinking water the whole time.  After 1.5 hours, I was to rest on my left side for thirty minutes before sitting up to teach again.  

I spent an entire summer with my altered routine, all while taking care of my older children, two and four at the time, from the sofa.  My dear, sweet husband would make them lunches and fill their sippy cups every morning and leave them low enough in the refrigerator for my eldest to reach them.  I would read the girls books and play games and watch fun shows with them from my jail cell on the sofa, and they would bring me anything I might need that they could reach.  They were, and are, the best girls in the world.  

Yet another blessing to count in this post is that my mother-in-law taught me how to knit in February of 2006, just four months before my 4.5-month bedrest sentence.  My sweet, patient husband took me every Saturday to my favorite local yarn store, the Yarn Garage in Rosemount, MN, to buy more yarn and patterns to keep me sane.  >I spent those 4.5 months drinking water, resting, reading, and knitting while fighting the preterm labor that threatened to deliver my third child much, much too early.  While those months were worth every second to ensure that my darling N was healthy, my health and playing deteriorated as I was completely inactive.  Again, that is another story for another post.

By late October, at 38 weeks pregnant, I decided that I had had enough of lying around.  I tried to become more involved with day-to-day activities in our home again, but those months of atrophied muscles made it more difficult.  Again, my stubborn nature reigned supreme, and I ended up with a stress fracture in my right foot just one day before delivering my little N.  

At 39 weeks gestation, my doctor induced my labor due to a lightning fast delivery with my second (1.5 hours of labor, three pushes, a 9-pound baby, and I was up and walking within twenty minutes).  Based on the months of complications, we were placed in the very first room by the nurses station, and a NICU team was on call for my delivery.  After starting the Pitocin drip and breaking my water, the nurse came rushing back into my room to turn down the dosage.  N was not tolerating the medicine well, and this trend continued as she repeatedly became distressed when the Pitocin was increased.  Eventually, we opted to nearly turn it off and let nature take its course.

Once our room full of concerned family members took a much-needed break for dinner, everything happened all at once.  I was able to stand without worrying that my dear father-in-law would see my bare bottom, so I took full advantage.  I stood and hugged my husband, and that was all it took for my labor to hit the overdrive stage.  Within ten minutes I went from 4 cm dilation to delivering.  This is precisely the reason my doctor scheduled an induction.

Because of the rapidity of my delivery, the NICU team had to take N very quickly for evaluation.  I barely got to see her, after reaching near-hysteria because the doctor was not showing her to me, before the kind NICU team went to work.  I was so engrossed in watching every movement she and the NICU team made that I was barely aware that I was following instructions to expel the placenta.  I vaguely noticed a weird feeling following the delivery of her placenta, but I was still focused on my new baby.  It turns out that my "weird" feeling was passing two fist-sized blood clots from behind N's placenta from my two partial placental abruptions.

If I had ever needed more proof of God's continued miracles on this planet, that was it for me and anyone else in the room.  He is the reason those blood clots did not kill my baby.  He is the reason why my bedrest was enough to keep my preterm labor at bay.  He is the reason she was fine after having a large vial of amniotic fluid pulled from her lungs by the NICU team.  He is the reason why my pediatrician talked the hospital into not making me put N back in for her jaundice.  He is the reason I have her.  Period.  There is no question in my heart, mind, or soul.  He is the reason we named her what we did, because her name means, "Born of God."  Thank you, Lord, for the most amazing and stubborn and incredible little N a mother could have.

**Note: I have chosen not to include her full name or photos, because my blog is set to public.  I do not wish to allow photos of my children to on the web without strict controls over who can see the photos.  Thank you for understanding my concerns.

30 Days of Gratitude: Day 6

As I posted today on Facebook, I need to refocus my trust in God to provide what we truly need, so I think it is time to start up some thankful posting.

Today, I am thankful for the generosity of strangers.  I was given some free alpaca merino wool in my favorite color from an incredible company, Shibui Knits, after commenting on their Ravelry page that I fell in love with their merino worsted yarn just before they discontinued it.  As in, I did not know it was discontinued until I went back to buy more less than a week after I bought the first skein.  

Today, Shibui posted a link to a free pattern on their Facebook page.  It happens to be for a gorgeous cowl in the exact color and yarn that they sent me to try for free.  What a blessing!  I am so in love with this pattern, and I cannot wait to make one for myself.  Thank you, Shibui Knits, for being a stand-up company that really aims to please its customers.

http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/ma1

30 Days of Gratitude: Day 3

As I posted today on Facebook, I need to refocus my trust in God to provide what we truly need, so I think it is time to start up some thankful posting.

Today, I am thankful for knitting. It brings me so much joy, because nearly every item I knit is a gift for someone. Giving just makes me so happy. 

My wonderful mother-in-law taught me how to cast on, make a knit stitch, and make a purl stitch in February of 2006.  By the time I was put on bed rest with my third daughter in June 2006, I had surpassed Margaret's level of expertise.  That is how much I loved, and still love, knitting.  

Before I knew it, I was knitting hats, mittens, scarves, sweaters, and afghans.  Since then, I have branched out into my own patterns, learned to crochet, and started exploring alternative knitting methods (cabling without a needle, continental versus English hold, etc.).  My Ravelry queue is so packed that I will have knitting projects to keep me busy well beyond the zombie apocalypse.  

The most beautiful part: nearly every project I make is a gift for someone.  When the recipient opens his/her gift and lights up in delight, I cannot even begin to describe the overwhelming sense of joy I feel.  Joy in his/her delight, joy in my craftsmanship, joy in absolute appreciation, and joy in knowing that I have done something to bring him/her happiness.