Journaling

I've kept a journal for as long as I can remember. I think I got my first one when I was in elementary school... I think I was 6 or 7...maybe? Anyway, the point is I started young. Ever since then I've been writing my thoughts down on paper. It's a kind of therapy for me, I guess. Cheap therapy.

I don't know if it's the pack rat in me or maybe I just cling to certain things from my past, but I have almost all of the journals I've ever written in. I'm sure that first one is hanging around in a box somewhere, waiting for me to open it and laugh at my silly 6 year old self. I'm sure a few of them have gotten lost over the years (and moves), but it's safe to say I have almost all of them. Considering I'm 26, there's quite a few!

Over the last few years I've sort of changed the way I journal. I used to use the journal kind of like I blog... Kind of. It was a space where I vented and talked about the goings-on in life. I always wrote more when big things were happening. Anyway, as I was saying, that's changed. Now I usually keep a prayer journal instead. I'm sure it has a little bit to do with blogging - the things in my day-to-day life are "journaled" here instead of on paper. I don't know why I started doing it; I only know that I did.

Last night, I ran across the journal I kept when Joe was deployed. Man, oh man, that one is full of memories, pain, fear, anxiety... You name it, it's probably there. Because I'd written it, it didn't take me long to read through. As with any kind of journaling, I also stopped for a while and then picked it back up. And I didn't start this one until he'd been gone for about 4 months. So there's that too. Anyway, there were so many ups and downs. It's funny how you sort of forget things - things that happened, how you felt, things that didn't happen, things you wanted to happen... In the last year I've almost completely forgotten all of those feelings. Throughout the 8ish months I journaled, there was one constant - okay, there were two:

One: I missed my husband so much it hurt. On an hourly, daily basis.

Two: I wanted to become a mom with every fiber in my being.

I haven't actually, completely forgotten my desire to become a mom, but...it's sort of faded. I forgot the pangs I would feel when learning someone else was pregnant (with the exception of my bestie), or when someone else had a baby. I forgot how often I prayed Psalm 37:4 - "Delight yourself in the LORD and He will give you the desires of your heart." I forgot how often I prayed "Your timing, God." I forgot how often I prayed, "I know it will be better in Your timing, not mine."

Looking back, I realize that I prayed those things and tried desperately to believe them. If you're a Christian, I hope you understand what I'm saying. Sometimes you can know what God's Word says, but still have a hard time actually getting it. That was me. I knew that one day I would be a mom. I knew that Joe would come home. I knew it. But I couldn't see it. I couldn't plan it. I couldn't know when it would happen or anything like that. Not having any kind of control? That is hard.

Now that our little miracle is here... I can fully appreciate the fact that God's timing IS better. If I had gotten pregnant when I really wanted to, I'm not sure I would have enjoyed it as much as I did. I would've had to tell Joe there was a baby in my belly via Skype/email/phone instead of waking him up that morning. I would've had to tell him we were having a girl in a similar fashion, rather than him going with me to the ultrasound and seeing our sweet girl. She would be here and be a miracle either way, but this? This has been so much better!

Finding that journal has really stirred my heart. It's reminded me that God's timing is always best, even when we can't really believe it. I think God understands when we have a hard time with that. And I think He's proud when we pray it to help ourselves believe it. It's reminded me that I need to spend more time with Him - reading Scripture and journaling/talking to Him.

Finding old journals is always fun and interesting. I think by running across this one, God is trying to tell me a little something. And I'm pretty sure I'm ok with that. =)

Have you ever found an old journal? Were you surprised at what you read?

The Real Reason

So remember a few weeks ago when I said I had writer's block for an unknown reason? Well.... I wasn't exactly telling the truth. Hehe.

You see, about 25 {ish} days ago I took one of these little thingies:

And whaddaya know it came up positive!? =) There really is a second line there, it was just really faint. After I took the test I went back to bed {it was 5am and of course I had to pee} with all of the "O.M.G." thoughts running through my head. About a minute later, Joe went to the bathroom. I left the test on the counter so I thought he saw it. I asked him and he said he didn't see anything. So I said, "Do you want to know or do you want to sleep?" He responded by jumping out of bed and running to the bathroom. =) We didn't get much sleep after that.

After texting my bestie, I decided that even after just one test I'd call the doctor. Went to the doctor's office and waited patiently for them to call me back and assign lab work. I peed in a cup and got the confirmation phone call about an hour and a half later. =)

So the real reason I haven't been blogging all that much is because I'm pregnant. And I am the world's worst at keeping secrets. I knew that if I even alluded to being pregnant someone would ask and I would spill the beans. Unfortunately, that seems to have been happening a lot lately. =P

The other reason I haven't been blogging much is also because I haven't been feeling that great. Morning sickness reared its ugly head right around 6 weeks. At first it was all-through-the-day sickness, but at least for now it seems confined to morning. For the past week {ish} I've been having trouble breathing. I thought it was because my allergies were driving me insane and usually my asthma reacts to my allergies. I've been taking allergy meds but nothing has really helped. I've also been using my inhaler way more than usual... So, today I went to the walk-in clinic to see what was going on. {Note: I still haven't had my first appointment. Our OB clinic - probably the same for all military - won't see me until I'm 12 weeks. I'm 8 right now.} Apparently, it's not just my asthma. After spending half the day in Tripler's OB/SDEC clinic, I got an EKG (which was normal), lab work, a referral to a pulmonologist (lung doctor) and an ultrasound. =)

The ultrasound was what I was really happy about. Haha!! I got a little upset when I learned the military only gives you one ultrasound at 20 weeks. {Read: I was a lot upset and probably overreacted a bit. Thanks, hormones.} So when the doctor dimmed the lights and turned on the ultrasound machine, Joe and I about lost it. =) So, here's the shot of our little one at 8 weeks:

{The pic says 7w6days, but I'm really 8w3d. Silly machine.}

I can't tell you how relieved I was to see our tiny little baby and to hear his/her heartbeat. =) After hearing all the doctor thought could be wrong, it was reassuring. And for the record, I'm fine. Just a little short of breath and super tired. Not too much to worry about until someone says so. The only thing that matters to me is that our little one is ok and has a nice, strong heartbeat...and that I'm breathing. 'Cause the baby kinda needs that too. Ha! And just for fun, here's the pic we used to announce the jelly bean on Facebook. {Because it's not official 'til it's on Facebook....right? ;-)}

So there you have it. I really went back and forth on whether I should announce so early. The worrier in me says, "No! You must be 12 weeks to announce!" But the optimist/person who trusts God says it doesn't really matter anyway. =)

Maybe I'll post more now that I don't have to keep anything a secret. =) Hope your Labor Day Weekend is off to a great start!

P.S. I think I found a cure for my baby fever after all.... ;-)

It's Baaaaaaaack!

It meaning baby fever and Murphy. Yes, both in one day. 


First, it was the pregnancy announcements on Facebook. You really just gotta love Facebook sometimes, right? Great for keeping you in touch with people and even better about hitting you in the stomach with feelings. I hate to say it, but this deployment has made me into a jealous - sometimes bitter - woman. I try so hard not to act that way, but the truth is I'm jealous. 


How could I not be, though? Deployment has taken my everything. Everything being my husband, best friend and other half - not to mention even the chance to have a baby. Is it really any wonder that I'm jealous? Jealous of women who have their husbands home and will never have to wonder what a night without them would be like. Jealous of women whose husbands may be out of town...but are sleeping safe and soundly in a cushy hotel room. Jealous of women who have the chance {even if it doesn't happen} to have a baby. Jealous of women who are pregnant. 


My head knows that it's impossible for me to even think about being pregnant right now. Telling my heart that is a different story. My heart doesn't care that there's no way I could get pregnant. It still wants a baby - a pregnancy. My head knows my husband has a job to do in the sandbox and he won't be home until he's home. My heart doesn't understand that. It doesn't understand that he has to work - that he has to be gone to do his job. It wants to spend time with him, to hold him and to tell him I love him in person.


As if all these feelings weren't enough to deal with for one day, Murphy decided it was a good time to play tricks on me. I worked out {hard} hoping that I could shove those feelings aside for a while. You know, work out my anger. I almost succeeded until I went to get in the shower. There was a spider on the floor. Luckily I had the Raid handy, so I sprayed it. No biggie. I opened the shower to turn on the water, and there it was. Another, bigger, spider. It scared me, I panicked and accidentally shoved the shower curtain back so hard that the rod fell down. Scaring me yet again. Once I sprayed that one, I saw another spider on the wall behind the toilet. At this point I screamed and yelled, "Oh my God!!!!" I sprayed that one and all but ran out of the bathroom. Enter tears. Many, many tears. Not only had my heart been attacked, but the rest of me as well. All I could think was "Why isn't my husband here?!?!!" as I cried and leaned my head up against the wall. I tried to call my mom in hopes of regaining control over myself, but she didn't answer. 


Apparently, God wanted me to deal with this on my own and realize that what the Enemy likes to do the most is beat you while you're down. And dang it if he isn't really good at his job. Slowly, I started to dispose of the dead spiders {except for the one I couldn't find} and got in the shower. Of course, every other second I was looking around checking for more spiders. Thankfully, my day got better...but I'm still not fully recovered. I'm still worried about finding spiders in the bathroom {or anywhere else, really} and my heart still really wants a baby...and my husband back. {Though not in that order.} I'm so glad we don't have much longer to go until he comes home. My heart can't take much more separation.

One Plus Two Equals Three

It's not often that I hit a wall, but with deployment I suppose it's bound to happen every once in a while. And in true Sarah fashion, I didn't really see this one coming. {Read: I'm a klutz and run into actual walls on a regular basis, so this is no surprise.}


I suppose this morning's chat with Joe should have been my first clue, but I never noticed it. I don't even know what spurred it. All of a sudden, I found myself telling my husband that I felt like I have absolutely no purpose right now. It's different when he's home. I have him to take care of, along with the house and all that goes with that. When he's gone? It's just the house, the laundry, the dishes and Jasper. Woo. Oh, and the volunteering thing. As my sweet husband always does, he did his best to tell me how great I am and how he couldn't do what he does (especially when he's deployed) without me. While his words warm my heart, they don't exactly give me anything to do. {Sorry, sweetheart.} 


I recognize that there are several things causing this problem.

{one} I don't have a job nor do I desire to have one right now. That may make me seem lazy, but that's not my intention. I don't want to get a job "just to have a job." Unfortunately, I think I've come to the conclusion that I don't really want to teach. I'm definitely qualified for it (degree and teacher's license), but I'm not sure my heart is in it. I do love kids and I most definitely love history, but I'm not sure that "marrying" the two are what's best for ME. I've already had jobs that were just there to pay the bills. It makes me cranky. When I worked at Chili's, it got to the point where I completely dreaded going to work. I don't want that again. I really love volunteering at the museum - even if it doesn't pay or end up on my resume. (Hey, that rhymes! ;-)) And right now, I need something that's flexible. If I'm sick, no biggie. If I need to pick up and fly across the ocean, I don't have to ask for time off or worry about not getting paid. I just go. I'll admit that sometimes I feel like I'm not "earning my keep," but I'm married. My husband's money is my money too. He earns it so that I am free to do what I want to do, whether that's working or not. 


{two} Baby fever. I know that if I had a baby, I'd have a purpose - a reason to not have a job and a reason to stay home. 


The fever is at an all-time high at this point. Every-freakin-body is pregnant. And the few who aren't just had babies...or maybe they're trying. Me? Nada. I want to be pregnant; I want to have a baby. However, that's not quite possible when my hubby is on the other side of the world. I find myself wanting to read books about getting pregnant, being pregnant, raising kids... At church on Sunday, they announced that they're having a parenting class via DVD with James Dobson and I really wanted to sign up for it. {Still do, actually.} I want to be prepared, I want to learn. I've downloaded "fertility" apps on my phone... The fact that I'm working on projects my nephew who's due in May probably doesn't help either. 


The combination of {one} and {two} just makes me want to scream: When is it my turn?! When do I get to have my husband home?! When do I get to have a baby?! When do I get to have the life that I want - that I desire?


Enter number {three}.

I've been struggling with talking to God about this. Or anything, really, lately. I know that God has a plan and a purpose for me... I do know that. It's kind of hard to explain how I feel. While I know that God has plans for me, I also have a hard time figuring out what they are. Now, I know God isn't going to say, "Ok, Sarah. This is my plan for you. So, I need you to go here and do this. Then you go here, and do this." It doesn't quite work like that, unfortunately.

I know that God wants to use me for something, even if it's not something big. Like most people, when I'm frustrated with someone I tend to either avoid them completely or only talk to them about certain things. And when I'm frustrated with my life, and the answers God has (or hasn't) given me... I tend to avoid Him. It's not good for me...and I know that. I'm human, and God knows that. At some point I have to realize that, hey, I really can't go this alone. I really do need His help. After all, he is stronger when I'm at my weakest and recognize that I can.not. do this by myself. And He'll wait until I reach that breaking point - whenever that may be - because that's just who He is. 


So, you see, 1 plus 2 really does equal 3.


And {three} is the big, fat wall that I walked into earlier. Missing my husband, staring at his picture on my phone, I realized that - crap - deployment is hard and it freakin' sucks. Maybe it's time that I remembered that needing help - especially from God - is totally okay.

A Really High Fever

It seems like every. single. woman. I know is either pregnant, planning to be pregnant or just had a baby.

I had my lovely yearly "invasion" (as I like to call it) today. It's not that it's that bad, it's just really uncomfortable. Really. Anyway. As always during this visit, I chatted with my doctor about my cycle and all that stuff. Near the end of the appointment, I asked if everything looked good. Her response? "Yep! Everything looks great. =) Just ready for a baby to be in there!"

Thanks, doc. Exactly what I needed to hear.

My baby fever is insanely high. Some days, it's all I can think about. I find myself thinking about being pregnant, bringing a baby home... How it will affect our marriage, our lives. I find myself planning things. When to get pregnant, when not to get pregnant.

Why, why, why do I do this to myself?! It's not like my husband is home. It's not like this is going to happen anytime soon. Thinking about it - no, obsessing about it - doesn't help. Today, I seriously started planning out (in my head) where I would put a crib, changing table, etc. in our spare bedroom. I'm serious!

Then there are times (like today) when I freak out thinking about it. I want to have babies. I want to be a mom. But, oh my goodness, how it's literally going to change my life - our life! Things will be so incredibly different. And with the military, I'll be a single parent half the time. Lots and lots of things to consider.

Ultimately, I know nothing will happen unless God wants it to. Darn it if I can't help but plan things, though! I was talking to the best SIL ever my SIL today about it, and both of us are this way. Oh, how we wish we weren't! My life would probably be a bazillion times easier if I didn't plan things out and then worry/stress when things don't go the way I planned them.

I just don't know how to stop planning things. I even do it with Joe. You should have heard me talking to him earlier tonight. Of course now I feel bad about it. I was trying to push something on him that he's not really in favor of...and I just wouldn't let up! What on earth is wrong with me?! Am I really so goal-oriented that I can't take into account his feelings and his wants?

Sometimes I wonder if the military weren't involved in my life, if I'd be trying to plan things (i.e. a pregnancy) around someone else's schedule. Actually, I might already be pregnant if Joe had never lost his job, enlisted, went to BCT and got deployed. Maybe.

Y'all, I really feel like I'm losing my mind with all of this. Please tell me I'm not alone! How do I keep from going crazy?!?!