Wonderings for the Old and New Years

I wonder...when the CW channel will stop presenting itself as 'the new CW' and just let it go. It's been months now! Does this mean I can still say that I'm only thirty years old?

I wonder...when I'll get to looking through all of my magazines. I am only up to May 2006, and I have about three different subscriptions -- and I don't ever feel justified in spending the money unless I look at every single page.

I wonder...when I'll finally admit that I watched the most recent cycle of "America's Next Top Model" and that I knew Caridee would win and she did, she did! Oops, guess that cat's out of the bag.

I wonder...when our little Miles will just get up and go. He's been rocking on those hands and knees for ages now, and he's actually moved a little. But one day now he's going to really take off, and how will I keep up with him?

I wonder...when I'll be an 'experienced' knitter. I've been a beginner for, oh, about four years now. Maybe I should do something else besides scarves and hats? (Hey readers -- that's some foreshadowing for you!)

I wonder...when, if ever, I'll get to see some of my old friends. I try and try to find some of them, but to no avail. I absolutely love looking up old friends!

I wonder...if I'll ever choose another musician to like more than Sting. Wow, I almost typed that with a straight face!

I wonder...if there will ever come a day when I say 'No' to Cruncheros and vanilla lattes. Not if I have anything to do with it!

I wonder...if I'll be able to get to sleep more easily at night, and soon, without the aid of several books, my little reading light and my iPod nano.

I wonder...if anyone else is blogging their last post of the New Year at this exact same moment.

I wonder...if I've told my family enough how much I love and appreciate them.

I wonder...and I hope, that my heart will always long for God's word and presence.

I DON'T wonder...about God's faithfulness in the year 2007. He has been, is and always will be, an awesome God!

Two-thirds of a year

Jolene asked for a Miles update, and what perfect timing she has! Today Miles is eight months old. Eight months...I can hardly believe it myself. A few things have changed since his six-month update.

We saw those two bottom teeth come through just before Thanksgiving, and now one of the top front teeth is making its debut. Poor little guy, he's had a rough time with that one. Just two nights ago he really cried just trying to eat his food. It's so hard seeing your baby in pain. Thank goodness for baby Tylenol!

Miles isn't crawling just yet, but he desperately wants to. Ever since we got home from our Thanksgiving trip (more than twelve hours in a car in one day with a baby...we feel like we passed some kind of new-parent test), he has been getting up on his hands and knees and rocking back and forth. It's like he knows he's supposed to move, but he just hasn't got it down yet. But when he starts going, he is going to really go, and I don't know how I'm going to keep up with him. Seriously.

He does really well with sitting, although he'll still lose his balance every so often. I'm amazed at how quickly he learns things, though. Babies are just amazing. He's already walking around really fast in his little rolly-chair thing, and he can open the bottom kitchen cabinets -- thankfully the rolly-chair stops the cabinet from opening all the way. And yes, we are going to baby-proof the house, we just haven't yet. But we've gotta hurry and get it done!

Miles' pediatrician said we could try giving him Cheerios now, so we tried...but to my amazement, he doesn't like them! I've never seen a baby who didn't like Cheerios, but maybe it's something he will get used to. I don't know if it's the texture or the taste, but he makes a face and coughs every time I put one on his tongue. Speaking of tastes, we've learned that carrots and peas make him gag, so for now we've given up on those. Thank goodness he likes squash and sweet potatoes -- at least some vegetables have made it onto the list!

Bathtime has become more of a playtime for Miles. We've introduced the bath toys to him, and he just loves to splash and splash that water. So we try to get him all washed up and then just let him enjoy the splashing. It's pretty entertaining for us as well.

For now that's all I can think of. That, and it's time to get him up from his nap.

Clearing things up

It is very difficult to get a tone across in a blog post. Many of you have experienced this with email as well -- you send it to someone and the next thing you know, things are misunderstood and taken out of context, etc. Tone is not, unfortunately, one of the little tools on the edit list.

Nevertheless, I will make an effort to get my point across, and I will tell you ahead of time that my tone here is not one of anger or irritation. Had I written this a few days ago, it certainly might have been. But I vented a bit to Casey and allowed myself a cooling-off period, and now here I am.

When I wrote my previous post, I was coming from a place of joy -- not sadness! I read some of the comments and wondered if some had even finished reading to the end, because it certainly seemed as though they hadn't. Either that, or it seemed as though they didn't realize that I had been through so much more than just giving birth. This mourning that I've experienced would have been much different had I only gone in and had Miles, having spent a day or two in the hospital rather than three-plus months.

Another thing I wanted to address was this: lamenting and grieving are a part of life. Yes, when you are dealing with depression beyond 'baby blues' you should seek help, but how does anyone know that I haven't done that? I am as bad about assuming as the next person, but I believe it's something we should all be really careful about. I have no shame in sharing this, because I was going to do it as I continued my 'chapters', but I started taking antidepressants back in May, and I am still taking them. I guess I am mostly directing these things at the person who chose to leave a comment anonymously without signing her name, and I will admit that I bristled a bit at her first sentence which was: 'You need to get help.' I understand that there was an element of helpfulness in that, but come on! I had just made this triumphant breakthrough and was sharing it with all who wanted to read about it, and I am told that I need to get help. My understanding was that I had asked for help from my Heavenly Father!

If you lived with me, you would know that I am an overly self-aware kind of person. I did not hesitate in taking antidepressants because I knew that I needed them, and I have an amazing husband who talks things through with me, and I have awesome sisters in Christ who have come over to just be with me when the load gets too heavy.

Why did I let that one little anonymous comment get to me so much? I'm not sure if it was because it was anonymous or what, but it just felt as though she had never been to my blog, read that one post, and spat out a diagnosis. Okay, I tend to take criticism badly at times, but I think it was just the assuming part of it. And to make things clear once again, the tone of my previous post was one of joy and relief. It was, "Hey guys, I did it! I'm lamenting, but I'm finally doing it with God as my guide!"

Light and momentary troubles

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. ~ 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

I am getting real here. I'm not saying I'm going to be all serious and no funny...but it is finally time that I face up to some things. I started truly facing up to them tonight, as a matter of fact. You may have noticed that it's been a while since I posted -- nearly two months now. That's been purposeful, because what I have been doing is running away from my pain.

I know I don't have to share this with anyone else but God, but I find no shame in it. What is happening is REAL LIFE -- the stuff that makes you cry, makes you angry, makes you either face it now or run away and face it later. And it's the stuff that makes you, God willing, a stronger person for it.

For those of you sitting there still shaking their heads, the ones who might communicate much differently to myself (maybe that's everyone!), I am simply talking about all the things I've been through this year, and the fact that I've been avoiding really dealing with the emotional pain of it all that I sort of convinced myself I was done dealing with months ago. Do I hear laughter? That's okay, I have laughed at myself already, though admittedly it was a somewhat sadder laugh.

I really hope I'm not depressing anyone, because there is good news in all of this! Isn't that what God is ultimately about? That's why I included the above scripture. It's what Casey shared with me last night to encourage me. And then this evening, while he was out, I finally cracked open my journal (March 27 was my last entry...talk about avoidance) and scratched out a couple of pages. I barely got any of the story out and couldn't go on, and I've written more about it in this blog! But I closed the journal, put down the pen, and prayer poured from my lips while tears poured from my eyes. I could see God in my mind's eye, nodding his head and saying, "It's about time...it's about time." But he was saying it with a smile on his face, because like the patient father that he is, he knew that after stumbling over it all by myself I would eventually stop running away and just...run to him.

Why am I being so open about this? Not sure. I think I knew, back on my last post here, that I would be avoiding my next 'chapter' for a good while. I've already said it out loud to Casey and maybe someone else, but I think I really and truly wanted the story to end the night Miles was born. It was such a beautiful, happy ending, and yet in real life what happened after that was the most painful part. Not just going through some excruciating actual physical pain, but the part I think will honestly take me a while to get through: the fact that I missed out on my precious baby's first three months of life on this earth and I can never, ever get that back. Tears fall even as I type this, I think because it is the hardest part of all.

I hope you're still reading, because here is where I give praise to God for all the blessings he's given me! Yes, there is so much good going on in my life, and so I cannot ignore that. Can one be mournful and grieving at the same time she is giving thanks? Absolutely. I'm doing it right here in one post! I cry, and yet I smile. I ache, and yet I overflow with joy. What a mystery.

I don't know how long it will take for someone to see this post, because I'm sure many have given up checking back here and have moved on...but when you read this, please don't feel pity for me. I've hit the bottom of the valley, and I'm on my way back up.