Pregnancy - My thoughts thus far

Being pregnant has definitely not been the most fun thing I've ever done. But I am healthy and the baby is healthy so I try to focus on those things.

And the questions/stories/advice! It is absolutely astonishing to me, how once people find out you are pregnant, it somehow gives them license to ask very personal questions, tell you their horror stories and give unwanted advice. And by people, I mean strangers and people I would consider acquaintances. If you are a friend and have asked me these questions/told me stories/gave me advice, you get a pass.

Some of my favorites have been, in no particular order:

"Are you excited?" - Come on people, there is only one socially acceptable answer to this question and it is yes. Can you imagine the reaction if we said no?

"Did you plan it/Was it planned?" - I never know how to answer this question. And why is it important to know this? Does it somehow change the situation if it wasn't planned? Planned or unplanned, there will be a baby coming.

"How many are you going to have?" - During this pregnancy? In my lifetime? Again, what is it with the family planning questions? Here I thought my marriage only included me and Eric. Oh, how wrong I was. And let's just see how we do with one before making plans for more. I may be growing a holy terror in there.

"Oh, my pregnancy was great!/I loved being pregnant!/Being pregnant was awful!" - I'm glad that your experience was wonderful. I'm sorry that you had a rough time. But telling a pregnant lady how your experience went is really not that helpful, unless she has asked you. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that literally every pregnancy is different. You had tons of gas? Great! You swelled up like a balloon? Fantastic! I haven't had any of those, but it sure has been wonderful talking to you about it!

"Are you making preparations?" - Ummm.....like what? Again, I never know how to answer this as I feel the only socially acceptable answer is yes. "No, we're just going to wing it once the baby gets here. It's totally cool to put them in a shoe box to sleep, right?" will probably solicit a call to DHS.

"I haven't seen any baby bump pictures. When are you posting those to Facebook?" - I know that I am in the minority, but you will not see a "bumpie" from me on social media. Family and close friends who live far away and have asked for one will get one in a text message, but I have chosen to not clutter up your news feed with weekly shots of my ever burgeoning belly. There are some things that I would prefer to not live on for eternity in the cloud and my pregnant belly is one of them. However, if you live close to my mom she will be more than happy to share the pictures I send her. :)

30 Before 30....Or 20 Before 30

29 doesn't feel any different than 28.

Except that my Y membership increased. Apparently 29 is when you become an actual adult and are no longer a young adult. Whatever.

I've been holding out on putting my 30 before 30 out in the world, mostly because I don't have 30 things.

Not for lack of trying. It's just that I've done more than I thought I had. It was good to see that I haven't been a bump on a log for the last 29 years or so.

So without further ado, here is my 20 before 30. If I come up with 10 more things, I'll add them on here.

1. Hike a 14er

2. Read 30 non-fiction books

3. Memorize 30 Bible verses

4. Find my birth parents

5. Take a class

6. Hand-write 5 cards/letters each month

7. Go to a concert at Red Rocks

8. Do a month-long photo challenge on Instagram

9. Run a 5k

10. Hold a Pinterest party and actually complete the projects

11. College roomie reunion

12.Take Eric skydiving

13. Find and/or create a signature drink

14. Travel to a new state

15. Go to a Bronco football game

16. Find an organization to volunteer with

17. Get another stamp in my passport

18. Finish family tree

19. Actually print off pictures from study abroad

20. Pay off car loan

At the Manchester United vs Roma AS soccer match for my bday.

Real family

I'm going to be totally honest. I love the show Who Do You Think You Are.

If you've never seen it, it's a show that takes celebrities and helps them trace their lineage, to find out their familial beginnings. There are usually tears and this sap is usually crying right along with them. 

Off and on, I have traced my own ancestors on Ancestry.com. I started back up again a few weeks ago and let me tell you, I have learned a lot.

Sidenote: Eric's family has been here since the dawn of time. And by dawn of time, I mean dawn of what would one day become the U.S. of A. For a history nerd like me, I am in heaven! No lie people, we're talking the mid-1600s here. But I digress.....

My family is a family of immigrants and have really only been in America for 150 years. Five of my eight great-grandparents were first generation Americans, one was a second generation American, and one was born in Norway. The last great-grand had family that had been here since the early 1700s. There are at least two surname changes (ironically, they both changed their names from the highly popular Peterson/Pederson to the highly unique Swanby and Schow surnames) and more variations of spelling of first names than I care to count. 

This is my heritage.

I was talking with my hair stylist? dresser? guru? about it and she knows that I am adopted. When I finished telling her about what I had learned she said to me, "But that's not really your family, is it? I mean, that's not really where you came from? Don't you want to find your real family?"

I have heard some uncouth things before about adoption, being adopted, etc, but this might take the cake.

At first, I was angry. Lyle and Paulette and Michael are my real family. Irvan, Lila, Myron and Amy are my real grandparents. To say they aren't my real family is to deny 28+ years of love, care, discipline, teasing, spankings, birthday parties, and lap sitting. I am no less a daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, cousin just because the blood that runs through my veins doesn't carry the same genetic material that runs through theirs.

And then, I felt sorry for her. If her definition of family only includes those whose blood is the same as hers, she is missing out on how awesome and wonderful family can be.

The word adoption comes from the Latin word adoptio which when translated means "to choose". The definition of choose is "pick out or select (someone or something) as being the best or most appropriate of two or more alternatives".

It brings to mind the quote from Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird. "You can choose your friends but you sho' can't choose your family." In my case, you can choose your family.

I have been blessed beyond measure with my family. I can't say what my life would have been like had my biological mother not given me up for adoption, but I am grateful every single day that she made that choice.

I am chosen. My brother is chosen. My parents chose us. We were selected as the best option. You can't get more "real" than that.

July, July!

How is it already July?

It certainly doesn't feel like it here. It has been overcast, cool and a little gloomy. It's like Colorado is sad the year is half over.

Since I've been burning my sick time, I've had some time to ponder. I've seen a lot of my friends on Facebook posting about "30 before 30" recently. I like this idea.

Too often we get complacent with where we are. We forget about the things we once said we would do or the things we wanted to accomplish. Life happens. But the desire to push ourselves out of our comfort zone or the zeal to try and learn new things shouldn't fall by the wayside.

Eric reminded me of this a few weeks ago when we discussed a list we had made before we were married and how we hadn't accomplished much on that list. It was kind of sad to realize how far we were from those ideas/dreams/thoughts.

So I'm coming up with my own "30 before 30" list. I have a few ideas, but am definitely open to suggestions! These things must be accomplished before July 28, 2015. I'll write about the things I do and post it here. This will be my accountability. Feel free to heckle, cajole, cheer, encourage, embolden, inspire or any other adjective you feel appropriate.

A few ideas I have had.....

1. Climb a 14er. I know, I know, how have I not done this yet? One word? Fear.
2. Take a class of some kind to learn a new skill. I'm thinking either a language class or a crafty class.
3. Read 30 books that aren't fiction. Fiction is my go-to, always. Suggestions welcome!
4. Snail mail handwritten letters of encouragement each month. This is a lost art, no?
5. Make at least 1 new friend. I've been described as outgoing, but have noticed that I am more reticent of late.
6. Memorize 30 scripture verses. I used to do this a lot in college, but not so much lately.
7. Find my birth parents. I feel like this whole topic is a post or two of its own, but short answer: I have questions and it's time to be a grownup and not be afraid of what I find. Or don't find.

I'll post the final list once I have it. Again, I am open to suggestions!

Love or fear?

This last week has been interesting, to say the least.

Today, I'm sitting at home, burning off sick time because I honestly don't know how much longer I will have a job, or if I will even get paid for this sick time. You see, I work for a company that just got its hand slapped by the government, in a big way. In a they-no-longer-have-hands way. Or arms. Or legs. Or really any part.

It is unsettling, but I am at peace about it. Mostly because I was working towards leaving anyway. Since March, I've been working part time in addition to my full time job. In May, I decided I wanted to pursue that full time. But it seemed scary. And daunting.

Start my own business? I know nothing about that.

I started talking with people, asking questions, trying to make informed decision. I made a goal that by the end of August, I would have everything in place. All my ducks in a row. A perfect plan and timeline.

And then last week happened.

I worked crazy hours. I drank copious amounts of coffee. At one point, I had a small breakdown where I was laughing and crying at the same time because I had no idea which way to react. All for a company that I didn't really like.

And I realized, I can't wait until the end of August. Not because we need the money, but that is a motivating factor. But because too long I lived in fear. In practicality. My job was secure. Safe. I could "play" at starting my own business, because deep down inside I knew that I had a safety net. In short, I lacked faith that God would see us through.

I no longer have that safety net. And yet I know without a doubt in my body that this is what God has called me to. Just since yesterday, doors have opened that I didn't even know existed. He is blessing this and in His time. Not in my perfectly crafted timeline. Funny how that happens.

It's at this point that I have to give a shout out to my dear friend Karen. She has been praying for me, and specifically my job situation since last fall. That has meant so much to me and I know God listened to her petitions on my behalf.

So where does this leave me? Currently at my kitchen table in sweats. But good things are coming.

I leave you with a video I'm sure you've seen by now. Its applications are greater than just a job situation. And while it is very apropos for me at this moment, I think it applies to everyone. Are you living in love or fear?

Mi casa es su casa

It has been a year since we bought our first house. What?? 

I love our house. Of course there are always things I want to change, but we've come a long way baby!

This is how each of the three bathrooms looked. Boxed lighting = hideous. They were also the only rooms not painted white in the entire house. 

This is the guest bathroom. I let Eric pick out the shower curtain.

I've decided to embrace the facial hair theme for the bathroom. I have not embraced the facial hair theme on Eric.

So much white! And the light was a hazard. Apparently very short, color-challenged people lived in this house before we did.

Still too much white for my liking, but I can deal. Shout out to Pinterest for the photo display idea.

The dining room. Again, so much white!

Much better!

The Not-So-Mid-Life Crisis

As I draw closer to my 29^th birthday (gasp!), I have been spending a lot of time reflecting on what I've done so far with my life, where and what I thought I would be. I've also been thinking about where I want to go from here.

Let me describe here. I am married. We have a dog. We have a house. We make good money. We travel. We have minimal debt. We are blessed. Pretty much, the American dream.

Except for the 2.5 children. And the 3 car garage. But the garage isn't the main point of this manifesto.

This August, we will have been married for 6 years. Most of the time, it feels like just a few months ago that we were these bright eyed youngsters, embarking on this great adventure called marriage. In my mind I am still that 23 year old who just graduated from college and couldn't wait to set up our first apartment together.

I love my husband. I love that he still makes me laugh. I love that he still catches me off guard with his witty asides. I love that he chooses to love me every day.

I love our life. And for the most part, I wouldn't change one thing about it.

But to the outside world, what we have isn't enough.

Because we don’t have children.

We have reached the age and apparently the tipping point in the length of our marriage where we should have procreated by now. I guess we missed the memo.

The question used to be “Are you guys going to have kids?” Our answer: “Yeah, probably, someday.”

The question is now “When are you guys going to have kids?” as if it is a foregone conclusion that we will be having children. Our answer: “Yeah, probably, someday.”

Or, my absolute personal favorite, “Are you guys trying?” As a new friend pointed out, this question is basically asking if we have sex on a regular basis. On the inside I respond, “Thanks for asking about my sex life, but I don’t really care to share the deets.” On the outside, I politely change the subject as it really is no one’s business but mine and my husbands.

These questions are coming up more frequently as more and more of our friends are having children. In fact, this year in our small group that we lead, we were the only couple without children. Talk about ironic. But this lends itself to the next progression of questions, “Do you feel pressured to have children?”

If I’m honest with myself, yes, I do. Or did, I should say. Several months ago, I felt like I was less than other woman because I didn't have children. I felt like my marriage was less than someone else’s because we didn't have children. It seemed like every conversation I was a part of turned to parenting woes, tips and tricks, commiserating about being in the trenches of sleep deprivation. When you have nothing to offer, no similar experience to share, you begin to feel like an outsider. An anomaly. And then the tiniest whisper begins in your heart, that you could belong too, if only you had children. And so begins the great lie that you are less because you don’t have children and you don’t belong because you don’t have children and children will be the answer.

But I am enough. My marriage is enough. I am a beautiful creation of the Heavenly Father and He has a plan for me, for my husband, for our marriage. It may or may not include children, but I know without a doubt in my mind that the plans He has are not some standard template that apply to the 25-35 year old married demographic. It is not wash, rinse, and repeat.

The people asking these questions are those whom I will chose to believe have good intentions and mean no offense; they are just trying to get to know us. But the thing about these questions is that they aren't really innocuous.

If we were struggling with infertility, these questions would be daggers to the heart, a continual reminder of what we don’t have and what others do and what the world expects of us because on the outside we appear to have healthy reproductive parts. It would be another lie that Satan plants in my heart of how I have failed, of how I am lesser.

If we were struggling with miscarriages, these questions would be wounds to a bruised and broken soul, grieving for what should have been.

I guess my point in writing this is to exorcise my own demons, to get rid of the frustration I feel when asked these questions. I do want children and I do think they are a part of the plan God has for me, whether they come from my womb or another. But I also think that it is something between me, my husband and God to figure out and that it will happen in His time, not someone else’s time.

So back to the beginning. Where do I go from here? I want to live a life unencumbered by the judgments of others. I want to live the life God has called me to, not the life other people think I should be living. I want to live a life that has meaning beyond achieving the American dream, including the 2.5 children. Too long I have lived in fear. No more. Today I live the life I was called to.