Tag: Motherhood

Why Banning Abortions Isn’t Going to Solve the Problem (And Some Ideas on What We Can Do Instead)

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Abortion has been a controversial topic for as long as I can remember, and I see posts in my news feed several times per week either for or against the morality and legality of abortions. I have thought and prayed about this topic for quite some time, and after hearing the news about the legislation in New York, and after becoming a mother myself, I feel that I can no longer be silent.

In responding to our heartbreak over this new law as well as the ones already instated, it’s so easy to say, “Ban abortions!”

But making abortions illegal isn’t going to solve the problem (remember prohibition?). Making abortions illegal will result in women getting illegal, often unsafe abortions, which could result in the loss of even more life.

I know some will say that if a woman was willing to take the life of her child then her life deserves to be taken as well, but as a follower of Jesus I simply cannot stand behind that. Her life matters, too. She was made in the image of God, too. Just like her baby.

So what do we do?

I think that we should start with the prevention of unwanted pregnancies. We know that school sex-ed programs that teach abstinence-only do not work. As a Christian, I believe in waiting until marriage to have sex, but not everyone believes this way, and I realize that.

Girls and women should know how their bodies and their cycles work so that they know when they are likely to get pregnant. They should also know about all methods of birth control (condoms and hormonal birth control aren’t the only ways to go).

Additionally, we should have more resource centers that get girls and women access to prenatal care, adoption agencies, and resources for how to care for their young babies if they choose to raise their child themselves (programs like this do exist!).

Are these things going to prevent all abortions? No. They aren’t. And that breaks my heart still. I wish this weren’t even an issue in the first place, but it is. And because it is, we have to do something about it.

And, church, one last thing. I know that we want to save the lives of these precious little babies, but putting up crosses in the church yard talking about the lives taken from abortion isn’t helping. All it’s doing is shaming any woman who has ever had an abortion, and shame never brings people to Jesus. Love does.

I believe every person is made in the image of God, starting at conception. When I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, she was the size of a poppy seed, but that little poppy seed was my baby. My heart breaks for all of the babies who never get the chance to experience life on the outside of the womb due to an abortion. Yet hate is not going to get us anywhere. Being compassionate and reaching out will not get us to a place where abortions are unheard of and forgotten, but I believe it will get us somewhere.

So I’m going to sit here and snuggle my sweet girl, praying that hearts change in our country and looking for ways to help extend compassion to women and get them the resources they need.

With love,

Photo credit:

unsplash-logoMegan Menegay

*Also, I realize there are some circumstances that require an abortion out of medical necessity, such as an ectopic pregnancy in which both the mother and baby will die. However, I don’t believe that aborting a child due to potential birth defects should be considered “medically necessary.” Their life, even though it may be lived differently than yours, is still life, and all life is sacred.

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Choose to Show Up

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I sit down with my coffee and my Bible. I get settled in and open my journal and my Bible. I hear stirring from the baby monitor. The baby woke up. Again. 

Sound familiar?

In high school I used to spend long stretches of time reading my Bible. In college, my workload got more intense, and I didn’t have as much time to spend in the Word. At the time I didn’t understand that different seasons of life mean that our time in the Word may look different. Instead, I felt guilty and would often go through long periods of not reading my Bible at all because I thought if I couldn’t spend the time that I was used to spending then I shouldn’t spend any time at all – I was wrong, by the way.

It’s so easy to get frustrated when different seasons of life make your “quiet times” with the Lord look different. It’s easy to just not show up. Something to remember, however, is that God values faithfulness. He honors when we choose to show up, whether we have an hour or just ten minutes. I believe time spent with God is never time wasted. God can bring fruitfulness out of both situations, even if we don’t necessarily see the fruitfulness right away.

So I take a drink of my coffee, set my Bible and journal aside temporarily, and go get my sweet baby. My quiet time is different than it used to be, but that’s okay. Seasons of uninterrupted time in the Word are beautiful, but so is this season.

There will be times as my daughter gets older when I wake up early to spend time with the Lord and the little pitter-patter of feet come down the stairs before they are supposed to, and that’s okay. Maybe I’ll pull her onto my lap and we can read together. Or maybe I will take a break to make her breakfast and then resume – maybe ten minutes later, maybe two hours later. But what I won’t do is get frustrated. I want my children to see their mama meeting with God regularly, and that may mean my quiet times looking much different than they did when I was fifteen. And that’s perfectly okay.

Friends, be willing to meet God where you are, no matter the season. Seek His face no matter what, and remember that your time with God is never wasted. 

With love, 

Photo credit: 

unsplash-logoAaron Burden

My First Month as a Mom

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In all seriousness, it is so hard to believe that my baby girl is a month old! It feels like we were just in the hospital. But it’s been the best. month. ever. Bella is already learning and growing so much, and it’s so fun!

•••

Being a mom is wonderful and challenging and exhausting. It’s all that I thought it would be and more yet completely different at the same time.

I’ve learned that your life completely changes yet doesn’t at the same time.

I’ve learned that things often don’t go as planned, and that’s okay.

I’ve learned that I have a problem with it wanting to ask for help, and I’m working on it.

I’ve learned that I have a problem with not knowing when I need to say no to things, and I’m working on that, too.

I’ve learned how unconditional love really can be, and I understand how God loves us so much more now.

I’ve learned that my husband is an absolutely amazing father, and our child is so blessed to have him.

I’ve learned that spit up matches everything, so I just wear it all the time!

I’ve learned that some things are just needed when you become a mom. These things include:

  • Coffee. Always the coffee.
  • A nursing pillow. These little people get heavy fast.
  • E-books and e-textbooks for middle-of-the-night feedings. Holding an actual book can often be too difficult (at least for me).
  • Someone to hold your baby so you can take a much needed shower or bath.
  • Did I mention coffee?
  • Voice-to-text to take notes while you read a textbook while a baby is sleeping on one of your arms.
  • Snacks and plenty of water for middle-of-the-night feedings.

And finally, I’ve learned that I have the cutest baby ever, and I’ve had the best month of my life with her! Happy one month Isabella Grace!

Featured image photo credit: Fig Tree Films

You Must be 90 Pounds Soaking Wet

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*Please realize this is not an attention-seeking post or an attempt at reassurance. I simply want to share my personal story!

I have always been small. Growing up I was pretty much all knees and elbows. I’ve always had a high metabolism, and no matter how much I ate, I didn’t gain weight.

My entire life I have heard comments like “You must be 90 pounds soaking wet!” or “You need to put some meat on those bones!” or “There’s not an ounce of fat on your body!”

I think most of the time these types of comments were meant as compliments, and I would usually smile and nod, but I felt differently inside. Every time a comment like this was made, I thought “90 pounds? Well, I’m a lot more than that. Am I supposed to be 90 pounds? I better suck by stomach in,” or “Am I not good enough the way I am?” or “Yes, there is, but I better hide it so you don’t see me differently.”

I felt such pressure to be as small as everyone thought I was, yet pressure to gain weight at the same time. I hated it. I hated my body no matter what. I wasn’t small enough. I wasn’t big enough. I wasn’t good enough. I was so insecure.

•••

A few weeks before I found out I was pregnant I remember telling my husband that I wasn’t scared of what my body would be like when I was pregnant someday, but I was scared of what it would be like after. I knew that it was going to be different and probably never go back to the way it was before.

Sure enough, I loved my body when I was pregnant. Actually, I was the most self-confident that I’ve ever been. Yet there were still things that were said that hurt. I heard from many people that I “looked good with some weight on me.” I happened to agree, but I was a bit hurt at the same time. I knew it was a compliment or perhaps a reassurance, but what it felt like was “you weren’t good enough before.” I tried not to dwell on it because I knew it wasn’t meant that way.

•••

Fast-forward and the day has arrived. The moment of truth. I’m no longer pregnant. How am I going to feel?

Honestly? Just fine.

At some point something changed. I wasn’t scared anymore. My body had just spent months growing a person. Of course it would look different! My body did something amazing; who cares if it doesn’t look the same as before?

I don’t.

And that’s the truth. I decided that the only one who can make me feel insecure about myself is, well, me. Yes, the things that were said to me over the years were hurtful, but ultimately I chose to let it get to me. And honestly, I’ve got too much going on to be worried about some extra weight and stretch marks.

At the end of the day, I don’t want to be known as “the thin one” or “the pretty one.” I’ve got more important things going on. I’d rather be known for how I walked with Christ. What kind of wife and mother I was. What kind of friend I was. Not my pant size.

All this to say, friends, be careful with your words. They hurt and have long lasting effects. But also, don’t let what other people say define how you see yourself.

With love,

Isabella Grace

Published on by Brandi2 Comments

I spent my pregnancy reading and researching, preparing mentally and physically for labor. I feel like the time I spent preparing was well worth it, but the main thing I learned from labor was that things do not always go as planned.

•••

I went to the hospital at 3 p.m. on Sunday after I called the hospital and said that my water may have broken at 8:30 that morning – after which I still went to church and to the mall. They said my water had not broken yet (though I’m suspecting it was a hind leak that resealed) and that I was having contractions three minutes apart. I didn’t start feeling the contractions until a little later, and then it was purely back labor. My nurse had me walk the hall for an hour, and then I was admitted for labor – yay!

It was game time and I was ready to go. My nurse knew I didn’t want an epidural or pain medication, and I wanted to be up walking as much as possible. At this point I was thinking I would probably have my baby in the middle of the night. I walked for 40 minutes every hour for probably 4 hours until the contractions were too strong.

Fast forward several hours, they broke my water and an hour later they tell me that I’ve gone from 6 cm to 9 cm! I’m thinking we must be getting close. A few hours later my nurse checks me and says I’m just now at 8 cm – whoever checked me before was mistaken. Needless to say I was a bit frustrated.

Unfortunately, my body seemed to really like sitting at 8 cm. After several hours of being stalled out at 8 cm, I started to panic. I could handle the pain, but the urge to push was too strong. I knew it was way too early, and I couldn’t push without hurting myself and my baby. Finally, my nurse suggests an epidural to help me finish dilating. Though the thought of an epidural terrified me, I agreed (it was really no biggie). Within an hour and a half I was ready fully dilated and ready to push!

They turned my epidural down so that I could feel how to push, and I pushed for two and a half hours, and finally, 23 hours after being admitted to the hospital, at 2:16 p.m. I reached down and pulled my own baby girl to my chest (with guidance from my doctor). It was probably the most special moment of my life.

I didn’t care that I hadn’t slept in 30 hours.

I didn’t care that I had, just a few hours before, told my husband quite seriously that we were never having another kid.

I didn’t care that my plan of having an unmedicated birth went out the window.

I had my baby, and she was perfect.

•••

Unfortunately, the next several hours didn’t go as planned either as Isabella had trouble breathing on her own due to me being in labor for so long (it’s fairly common, but it was scary nevertheless). She was in the nursery for 7 hours, and we thought she was going to end up going to Children’s Hospital – which was definitely not part of the plan.

We were exhausted and anxious and frustrated. I hadn’t held my baby in hours. My husband had yet to hold her. He had gone to see her in the nursery several times, but I still couldn’t go because my epidural had not worn off. My nurse came in to check my legs and said she’d come back and check me in an hour because I wasn’t able to move as well as I needed to to get up. I looked at Genelle and said, “An hour my big toe! Help me pump my legs and get this epidural to wear off.”

Which is exactly what we did. Twenty minutes later I was in a wheelchair heading to the nursery. It broke my heart to see my sweet little girl with her itty bitty oxygen mask. I sat with her for about 30 minutes, and while I was there she got better. She was breathing well when I left, and we were told she would be with us shortly.

After waiting awhile and still not having our baby brought to us, we were told that she had started to regress, and they would be talking to Children’s Hospital soon to see what to do next. We were scared and tired and all we wanted was our baby.

But finally, I looked at my husband and said, “We can’t be slaves to fear. We have to trust God. No matter what, we’ll figure it out. It’s going to be okay.” It’s funny how the sermon that morning at church was on fear.

A few minutes later, a nurse brought us our little girl, saying they were just going to spot check her throughout the night (she was perfect every time they checked her that night).

Would we still have trusted God if she ended up going to Children’s? Absolutely. But were we praising God that we had her? Absolutely!

Bella is 2 weeks old today, and we fall more in love with her daily. Being a mom is better than I ever imagined. I often stop and think about the long journey it took to get her here – and how every minute was worth it.

And yeah, I take back what I said about not having any more kids.

•••

 

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Mommy seeing Bella in the nursery

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Daddy holding Bella for the first time

 

 

Newborn Photos Photo Credit: Cherish Bickel Photography

Life Changes

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“We didn’t plan for things to go this way, but can you even imagine what life would be like if this weren’t happening?”

I said this to my husband last night as we stood in the kitchen and I showed him the baby books I had just bought (our child will definitely not have a lack of reading material – I have a problem…). We originally planned to have kids when we were both out of school, or at the very least when I was completely done. But when I sat in the campus infirmary one February afternoon and watched that little line appear, everything changed.

I was half terrified because this was NOT the plan, but at the same time, I couldn’t contain tears of pure joy as I realized I was going to be a mom. Finally.

I realize that may sound silly to some as I am not quite 22 yet, but the desire to be a mother has been brewing strong inside me for years and has only gotten stronger as I do life with the most amazing man in the world. When my best friend had the most beautiful baby girl in the world last December, I was in love. There were tears of joy streaming down my face as I saw her perfect little face for the first time. Later, though, if I’m being completely honest, which I try to be, I was crying for a different reason. Seeing that perfect little girl and seeing my best friend’s face as she held her baby for the first time created a deep ache in my heart because I still had years to go before that happened for me, and as absolutely happy as I was for her and her little family, part of me was heart-broken.

I know that to some that may seem silly or selfish, but it was how I felt. So I gave it to God. I didn’t want those feelings inside of me getting in the way of the pure joy I really was feeling for my best friend of nearly 10 years. I stopped thinking about it and just my best friend and her sweet little girl.

A month later I was pregnant.

I’m not saying that just because you surrender something to God, you are going to immediately get what you desire – that’s not how God works – but His timing is different than ours and it is perfect.

A few months ago I was praying that God would give me the strength, peace, and patience for these next few years of waiting. Now I’m praying for this sweet baby growing inside of me, whom I already love more than I ever could have imagined.

Our plans have changed significantly since that day in February, but oh, they have changed in the best way. There are still many unknowns, but I know God will carry us through just like He always has and just like He always will. We have plans, sure, but as Thomas Rhett says, “Life changes, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Love,

B

Photo credit: unsplash-logoMaxime Lelièvre

A Letter to our Baby

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Little One,

Right now you are still so small – not even half a pound! Part of me wants to keep you with me like this forever, safe and sound, but that’s not how this works: soon you are going to be in this world and subject to all the wonderful and not-so-wonderful things that come with it. It’s going to be such a wonderful, exciting, and terrifying journey raising you, Little One, and Daddy and I can’t wait.

I pray that you see love in our household everyday, that you see Daddy and I love each other and love you with the love of Jesus.

I pray that you always choose to see the best in people, despite what others may be saying, and that you always have a kind word to offer.

I pray that you always find that you can come to Daddy or me with anything, knowing that we will always be here for you.

I pray that you always find it in your heart to extend grace and mercy.

I pray that you always see people as people, not as their problems.

I pray that you remember that it is okay to make mistakes and to be wrong because that is how we grow and learn.

I pray that you remember that just because you don’t always see God actively working in your life that it doesn’t mean that He isn’t working in the background.

And I pray that you never doubt how much your Daddy and I love you, because it already cannot be put into words how much we do.

You are such a blessing, Little One, and I can’t wait to meet you.

Love, Mommy

Photo Credit:unsplash-logoKate Krivanec

While I am Here

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“If only I could graduate already.”

“If only I was a mom already.”

“If only I had the resources to reach out the way I want to.”

 

These are all thoughts that roll through my head. And in the previous seasons of life it was, “If only I could be in college already” or “If only I could get married already.” These kinds of thoughts are always right around the corner if I’m not careful. What I’m really saying is “If only I was in any season of life other than the one I’m in.”

It’s easy to think that way, isn’t it? We think “If only I get to x then I’ll be satisfied.” Then we get to x and suddenly we’re wishing we’re onto y. Before we know it we’ve gone through the alphabet three times over and all we’ve truly accomplished is wishing our lives away. 

I don’t want to miss my life because I’m choosing to be discontent in the season I’m in. I don’t want to be blind to the blessings of today because I’m day dreaming about tomorrow.

•••

Sometimes it’s more than just wishing that you were in a better looking spot down the road. Sometimes you’re in a season of life that is so dark, you don’t know how you’re going to get through it. The hope that things will change, that tomorrow may be better, that you won’t be in the situation forever, is all that you have going for you – I’ve been there, too. Sometimes it takes actually getting through the rough patch to see the purpose or even just the good things that were there among the mess. I want to look for good things in the storm, though; I want to find the silver lining – no matter how small – while it’s still raining, because undoubtedly there is one.

•••

Whether it’s a difficult season or just a season that isn’t my favorite, I don’t want to breed discontent.  I’ve longed before to reach x so much that I’ve taken shortcuts, only to put myself in a situation that was worse than the one I started in (I talk about this in Toxic) – I don’t want to live my life that way. I want to see the purpose in the season I’m in – and even if I don’t see it, I want to walk by faith and trust that I’m there for a reason, whatever that may be. I want to notice the blessings of the seasons I’m in. I want to be grateful. I want to live in the season I’m in.

•••

Tomorrow I may be there, but for now, while I am here, let me be like a flower taking in what is given to me and grow.