Three Reasons to Give Thanks, Our Story Continued

As November draws to a close, I can’t help but remember that this month might have been our first baby’s fourth birthday. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to enter the month of Thanksgiving without remembering the life that wasn’t ours to hold here on Earth.

You can read Part 1 and Part 2 of our journey.

Today, it’s been about two months since we thought that we would be having another baby, our third. I never wanted to add another chapter to our story about miscarriage and loss.

But, God.

I keep being reminded that God’s divine timing is not ours.

Andrew and I are loving each stage with our almost 22 month old, on-the-go, cute-as-can-be, into everything, toddler, Marshall. He is funny and fast and just so lovable. We definitely want to have more children, if God chooses, and we recently thought that dream was coming true for us.

In September, I took three positive home pregnancy tests. And another at my doctors office to be sure. Pure excitement, amazement and happy shock! I couldn’t wait to share the incredible news with Andrew. We looked at each other in disbelief, hugged and cried tears of joy. Marshall was going to be a big brother! We couldn’t be happier.

The thing with having ever experienced a miscarriage, even after delivering a healthy baby, is that the fear and uncertainty doesn’t leave you. The “what if’s” are always there, looming, in the back of your mind. It overshadows your joy. It makes you halfheartedly believe. You try to be all-in excited, but your heart still remembers the hurt and the heartbreak you once knew, at a familiar time in the past. I wanted those worry-filled thoughts to disappear. To stop whispering doubt into my ear. To stop robbing me of the happiness of this moment. But it kept hanging around.

We daydreamed about welcoming a new baby into our family. We celebrated with pizza (fancy, I know). We started strategizing how to make additional room in our home. And we prayed. And we talked about our excitement and about our fears. We hoped and prayed that God wouldn’t allow us to walk down the road of loss again.

My first ultrasound was scheduled the following week (per my request), when we would be a little over seven weeks pregnant. I simply could not wait to see our tiny growing baby on the screen and see that precious little heart beating. Then, and only then, would I be able to rest a little easier and fully bask in the joy of this pregnancy. I needed to see it to believe it.

The day before our ultrasound, however, I knew something wasn’t right. In addition, I didn’t “feel” very pregnant in general, except for some occasional nausea. I told myself not to freak out and that every pregnancy is different. It was still early. I was just going to wait to see the doctor the next day.

We drove to the appointment, which is at the same hospital where Marshall was born, and we got ready to see our tiny new baby for the first time. Except, there was no baby on the screen. My womb looked empty. The technician kindly told us that she could not see a developing pregnancy and that she was going to go talk to the doctor. When the technician came back, she performed a second ultrasound to be sure. Then the doctor came in and confirmed the news we didn’t want to hear.

How could this be?

How could I be pregnant, but there not be a baby growing inside of me?

Miscarriage.

That ugly word.

Again.

Something didn’t go right. The baby we thought was developing, simply was not. Almost as quickly as we learned that we were pregnant, we were faced with the reality that we weren’t anymore.

I had blood work done to be sure. And a follow up appointment. And more blood work.

The verdict: miscarriage. There was nothing we could do to stop it or explain it. Our hearts were once again left broken and wondering why.

Why put our hearts and our hopes through that? Why get us excited and looking forward to another dream coming true, only to have it trampled and stolen so quickly away? Why must we relive such sadness and disappointment, a second time over? It doesn’t make sense. After experiencing the joy and answered prayer of allowing us to be Marshall’s parents, why revisit that place of deep loss?

His ways are not our ways.

I couldn’t utter a word on the drive home. I sobbed in Andrew’s arms when he held me in our kitchen, while Marshall played in the other room. How was I supposed to get through this day? How was I supposed to move forward? Why was this happening? Again. What a cruel trick. I felt so foolish. Foolish for believing. Foolish for hoping it to be true and for all to be well. Foolish for allowing myself to dream and to be excited.

When Marshall took a nap, I buried myself under a blanket and fell asleep. When I woke, somehow I felt better. Like it was all a dream. Like I knew that this was the way God wanted it to be and everything was in His very capable hands. I was reminded that I have been given a husband and a son and a beautiful life, and most importantly, the life-giving gift of salvation. I had to get up, keep going and hope again. A simple and ridiculously hard truth.

I can’t say that it doesn’t hurt, deeply, because it does. It stings. In moments that I don’t expect. But, the fact that I have my husband of eleven years, walking the same road beside me, and our beautiful son to take care of, makes it somehow easier and more bearable. God has always been so very good to us, in the good times and in the difficult times. I know that God is in control, through it all, and that I can trust him. Even when it doesn’t make sense to me. Even when I wish things had gone very differently.

I am truly amazed at how tangibly God has been surrounding me during these days and weeks. The Sunday before our ultrasound, our new pastor started a series entitled “Seasons.” It couldn’t have been more timely. Trusting God, no matter the circumstances. I felt like the message was just for us. The worship team sang “Thy Will Be Done,” by Hilary Scott. A song that has been narrating my life for weeks prior to all of this.

Three days after our ultrasound didn’t go as hoped, I attended the More Than Enough women’s conference with guest speaker Angie Smith. I first heard Angie speak on Mother’s Day, 2014, while we were still in a season of intense waiting to get pregnant, after our first miscarriage in 2012. I knew I would be in for some serious heart stirring. That was an understatement. On the drive there, I was able to share my heartbreak and pray with a dear friend, who could not have been a more perfect listening ear and compassionate heart. Her words and understanding surrounded me with such love and comfort. During the conference, the stories that were shared about reliance on our Heavenly Father during utter heartbreak and unthinkable loss were nothing short of inspiring, and so specific to what I was going through, that very day. I knew God had planned it, long before I purchased my ticket. Later in the conference “Thy Will Be done” was played. That same song, twice in one week. Once before and once after I found out that I miscarried.

I’m listening, God.

“I know you see me. I know you hear me, Lord. Your plans are for me. Goodness you have in store. Thy will be done.” That song has been speaking to my heart continually.

There are many moments that I have felt the hand of God holding me and healing my wounded heart. Through people I’ve had conversations with, a blog I came across, messages at church, songs, the sweet laugh of my son, the love of family and friends. It’s been a much different experience than our first miscarriage. Not because I’m any less sad or any less disappointed. I was in a very different place, prior to having our son, not knowing if I would get pregnant at all and be able to experience having a child. All of the praise and glory goes to God for his good gifts! I don’t deserve His love and mercy and pure abundance. I am overwhelmed by His goodness and grace. Such grace.

I’m sharing my story, in hopes that maybe it will help someone else. I also share it to proclaim that it’s only because of Jesus Christ that I’m able to get up every day. Before, during and after all of this. My life isn’t perfect - far from it. I have struggles and I’ve had to face some very difficult days throughout my life. Days that, were it not for my relationship with my Creator, my Heavenly Father, the Giver of Life, I don’t know how I would handle it. He is my Living Hope. He is the reason I have joy. True joy. Not just putting on a smile and pretending. Even during the hurt, I have hope. How can this be? Because I am loved and cherished and held by the God of the universe.

I wear three rings now. One with the birthstone or due date month of each of my three children. I get to cuddle and look into the eyes of one of those sweet children, every day. And I look forward to meeting our two precious gifts in Heaven. Three reasons to thank God.

I don’t really know how to close this. To be continued. Because I don’t know what the future holds. Anymore than I knew what the future held a few weeks ago. I’m learning, daily, that as much as I might try, I’m not in control. Of anything. Only God is. And I’m grateful for that, because if I was in control, oh, the mess I’d have made of my life by now. Thank you, LORD, that You are in control, and that You know what’s best for us. You truly are a good, good, Father, and you are so perfect in all of your ways. (Another song that gets to me every time is “Good, Good Father” by Chris Tomlin.)

If you have known the pain of loss, my prayer is that the God of all comfort will heal your heart. I also pray that if you don’t already know Him, that you would pursue a relationship with God, your Heavenly Father, who loves you like crazy. I’m proof that you can love Him and you can trust Him. He created you and knows your heart. He also knows what it’s like to have His heart broken, because He watched His only Son, Jesus, die for you and me. The ultimate gift of love.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16 NIV

BFFN

I recently read an article about the decline of friendships after the age of 25, especially among women. I find it interesting and something I can actually relate to, at this stage in my life. I'm a bit past the 25 year old age bracket. Ok, I'd rather not admit that I'm closer to the 35 year old age bracket. Um. What? I don't know if it's simply because of the stage of life I'm in now, raising my young son and no longer working outside the home, but my circle of friends has shrunk, significantly over the past 2 years or so. Some friends have moved away, some continue to grow their family and naturally become increasingly busy, some have simply drifted away. I know people and friendships inevitably change over time, but I feel like friendships are even harder to maintain than ever before. You would think with the addition of social media, smart phones, and every means possible to keep in contact, that friendship would be easier than ever before. But I'm finding quite the opposite. 

I've always had this notion in my head of having a "best friend." Someone you can call, day or night, living close enough to drop by for a cup of coffee or take a spontaneous trip to Target together. Going for walks around the neighborhood with your strollers. Sharing advice about marriage and raising kids. Checking in on one another when you know there's something going on. Celebrating the happy and helping to shoulder the sad. Bringing over a meal or your favorite cookies. Someone with similar likes and goals to share life with on a semi-regular basis. A best friend kind of friend. A BFF, if you will.

Am I living in a dream world? Does this kind of friendship only exist on TV? Or do you just have to work really hard at it? Or either you have it or you don't? I feel like some people are blessed to have friendships like this. Maybe even a lifelong friend that you've known since you were 10 years old. If that's you, consider yourself lucky, indeed. 

Maybe it's because I've always had a build-in network of friends, where ever I was  - high school, college, part-time job, full-time job, church. Now that I'm a stay-home mom, I'll be honest, things have gotten pretty quiet around here. I LOVE being a stay-home mom, that's for sure. It's a gift that I'm thankful for, every day. But before I had my son, I pictured life as a full-time mom looking a little differently. I didn't imagine it being lonely at times. I didn't think my social circle would almost completely disappear. I didn't anticipate friends being so busy with their own families and lives that I would hardly see them anymore.

I know having children does change your availability, that's a given. Life now revolves around nap time and bed time, and schedules and routine become king. It's hard (and expensive) to find sitters, and to be honest, it's really nice just staying home on the weekends and enjoying family time. Sometimes it's more work to go out as a family. I get that. Then there's the guilt associated with taking "me time" and doing something on your own while your child(ren) and spouse are at home. 

But I still think that close friendships with other like-minded women is important - at every stage. I've been blessed to have different friends come into my life at different times throughout my life. And maybe that's just how it works - different people at different times. My best friend in junior high might have been intended for that unique time period. My best friend in college may have been the friend I needed for those years. This sounds so dumb even writing it, but has anyone else ever had "friend envy"? Is that a thing? I'm admitting that I have. This isn't a cry for help or a pity party, more of an observation and wondering why. Why some people have that instant connection and bond of lifelong friendship, and others stay at the acquaintance level or outskirts of close friendship. Anyone else? 

What I've come to realize is that I want to be that type of friend, and have that type of friendship, but it does take work. It's not going to happen if I sit in my house everyday waiting for someone to think of me. I have to reach out. Duh, right? Friendship is a two-way street. And if someone isn't reaching back out, move on to the next. I've also learned that friendship can't be forced. If people change, or don't reciprocate, as hard as it is not to take it personally, it may be time to move on. To look for other opportunities to make new connections. To be the friend that someone else might need at that very moment. You never know until you have a conversation.  

So, what's the point of my rambling? I guess it's just to be a friend. Be a friend to someone who may need one. Do a little something extra for someone else. Go out on a limb. Drop off an iced coffee and give them a hug. Send them a note in the mail. Send them a text if you miss them. Or (gasp) actually make a phone call, instead of sending a text. I feel like we have gotten so electronically removed, and friendships have gotten so screen-based, that we've forgotten how to actually BE a real friend. In person. Face to face.

You don't necessarily have to be a BFF (best friend forever) but you can be a BFFN (best friend for now). You don't know the difference it might make in someone's day/week/month/year.

Thursday Thoughts

My heart is heavy as I sit here, thinking about the chaotic state that our world is in. If you're living on this planet, how can you not be affected by the events taking place, and that have been taking place, for years and years (and from the beginning on time)? It doesn't seem right that I'm enjoying a salad while my baby naps peacefully, while others are fleeing their homes for their very lives, not knowing where they will end up or if they'll even have food today. 

My mind has a difficult time reconciling the injustice of it all. The sadness. The pain. The gravity of loss. The total fear. The reality of evil. What can we do? It feels wrong to turn on the TV and relax, while so many don't even have a bed to sleep in. I look at my young son. He is clothed and warm, safe from harm. He has toys and books. He knows how loved he is. Far too many children don't have any of those things. 

I was deeply impacted by this photographers project documenting where refugee children are forced to sleep. Regardless of your opinion on the issue, the stories are real. The children are real. No one should have to live like this. I read every single one. My heart breaking over and over. 

There are hurting people as well as evil doers all over this Earth. We live in a fallen world. Sin is here. I keep reminding myself that the story isn't over. This is just part of a much bigger plan. God's design for mankind isn't finished. This world was not created to be our permanent home. There is hope. Jesus is the answer!

I've been really enjoying SheReadsTruth.com and have been so encouraged by their Bible reading plans and devotions for women. I haven't been going in any particular order but I'm currently going through Philippians. Today's reading was just what I needed, reminding me that I am a citizen of Heaven, not Earth. With all of the plagues of evil and chaos, Romans 16:20 gave me hope, "And the God of peace shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. Amen." Our God is the God of peace. And one day, soon, He will put an end to Satan and every form of evil. What a glorious day that will be! 

The only answer I have to the "What can we do?" question is to pray. Pray for the people who are displaced. Who are hurting. Lost. Forsaken. Pray for the orphans and widows. Pray for those trapped in the horrors of sex trafficing. Pray for the mothers pondering abortions and pray for those willing to provide abortions. Pray for the homeless, the hungry, the broken. Pray for those with addictions. Pray for those plotting harm and carrying out wickedness. Most of all, pray that every lost soul would find Jesus Christ. He is the true hope and the answer for this world. 

And, love your loved ones. Hug your spouse, your children and your family, tighter. They are a gift. And every day you get to spend with them is a gift.  

Very Soon

You guys. This baby could arrive any day now! 

I know I've been MIA lately with posts and updates. I'm sorry! We have been excitedly preparing for baby's arrival, enjoying these last few weeks hibernating inside during this cold winter and dreaming of what's to come.

It truly is hard to believe that I'll be holding our baby boy in my arms, in what could be a matter of days! My due date is February 2 (which also happens to be groundhog day). I have no idea when our little guy's birthday will be. I do like surprises though, so it's kind of fun not knowing when it will happen. Then again, it would be nice to know so I could be "prepared." Even though I know "prepared" may be wishful thinking.

I didn't think we would have the chance to do any maternity photos but I was wrong. I am so thankful for my sweet, talented friend and photographer, Bethany, for once again taking such beautiful photos that I will cherish forever! If you haven't seen her work yet, you simply must visit her website. We will be doing a newborn session with her when little Mr. arrives and I absolutely cannot wait. I don't know how many times I have swooned over her newborn image gallery. Bethany, you truly have a gift! 

I'll be starting my maternity leave soon which will most likely include a break from blogging. I'm sure you understand! I don't know how long I'll be offline, but I'll check in once things settle and share the news of our precious arrival.

Thank you, kind readers, for your love, support and prayers as we journey into this new world of parenting. 

Love and Hugs,
Sarah

Our Story, Part 1

Currently, I'm 24 weeks wonderfully pregnant with our son. Just the thought of that fills my heart with so much joy, anticipation and pure hope of what's to come! A God-breathed gift. A growing miracle in every sense of the word. I am so thankful to be at this point, over half way to our February 2nd due date. I keep thanking God for this precious little growing life and praying, trusting Him for a healthy baby. 

I've started writing this a few different times. I'd like to say that our journey of starting a family has been an easy one. That it went according to our "plan". That it was without heartache and frustration. But, it hasn't been quite that way. I wish I could say that this is our first pregnancy and that I only associate feelings of joy and happiness with being pregnant for the first time. 

Back when Andrew and I were dating, we both knew we wanted to have kids some day. Having a family is something we've always looked forward to. We got married in July 2005, just five months after getting engaged, which was after six months of "officially" dating, about a year after we met. Things happened a little fast, you could say. But when you know, you know. And we both knew that God brought us together. Our relationship was still new in many ways. We had lots of time ahead of us for getting to know each other and growing as a married couple. We were 23-year-old newlyweds, recent college graduates with our first grownup jobs, settling into our first apartment and life together as Mr. and Mrs. We cherish the years we've shared "just the two of us." We bought our first house, continued to work full-time, travelled, vacationed and made so many memories.

The truth is, we always have, and still do, enjoy each others company. After 9 years of marriage, in today's culture, that's a gift to hang on to. Don't get me wrong, we've had our ups and downs, like any couple (it's not always rainbows and butterflies), but we're in this for the long haul and we're committed to each other, our marriage, and the promise we made before God, our family and friends. I mention this because I often get semi-surprised reactions when I tell people how long we've been married and inevitably, the next question I'm asked is do we have kids. 

Our tentative "plan" was to have kids after 3 years of marriage, which then drifted to 5 years of marriage. By our 6th anniversary we felt "ready" to take that leap and start a family. I always thought I would be pregnant or have my first child by the time I was 30. Things were lining up to meet that timetable. Three days before my 30th birthday, I took a pregnancy test and saw those beautiful positive lines for the first time. Andrew and I were ecstatic and in joyful disbelief. We were going to have a baby! God had answered our prayers. 

My pregnancy was confirmed at the doctors office and we were thrilled. However, upon follow up ultrasounds, things didn't look as promising as they should. But, it was still early. All we could do was wait, hope and pray. A few more uncertain, agonizing weeks and ultrasounds later, they didn't see what should have been there. They couldn't detect a heartbeat. We were utterly devastated and heartbroken, to say the least. At around 6 weeks, our dreams of being parents were abruptly taken from us. It felt like as quickly as we learned the news that we were expecting, we weren't anymore. We hadn't even told our families. We looked so forward to being able to celebrate and share good news, that the thought of delivering and reliving the greatest sadness we had ever experienced, was just too overwhelming and painful at the time. 

I wanted to curl up and hide. Push it all away. Pretend this wasn't happening to us. We lost our first child, as tiny as he or she was, we won't know him or her until we meet in heaven. 

I can't explain how I made it though the days, weeks and months that followed, except through prayer and faith in the LORD. His grace is what got me through. I woke up every day knowing that despite the pain, God is in control and He has a plan, even when I can't see or understand it. Naturally, I was hurting deeply and experienced a roller coaster of emotions. Sadness, anger, frustration, discouragement, jealousy, bitterness, despair. Some days were exceptionally hard. 

That Easter (2012), we visited Andrew's parents in Pennsylvania before we had our final ultrasound. The Easter Sunday church service celebrated Christ's death, burial and resurrection, but the thing I remember most, are three different couples that stood in front of the congregation and shared their personal stories of how God formed their families. Some experienced years of infertility. Some chose to adopt. Some were blessed with children after years and years of waiting. Each story was unique and beautiful and seeped in Gods timing and divine plan. His plan. Not ours. Those words were spoken the Sunday that Andrew and I were visiting and going through an uncertain and emotional roller coaster. It was as if it was a message just for us. I left that morning encouraged not to loose hope, and at the same time praying that we wouldn't have to walk down such a difficult road. 

Less than two weeks later, our precious dream was gone. We were left picking up the pieces of our broken hearts, giving them to God, and starting again. Learning to hope again. Asking God to hear our prayers and heal our hearts. 

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, But when the desire comes, it is a tree of life." Proverbs 13:12

"You will keep him in perfect peace, Whose mind is stayed on You: Because he trusts in You." Isaiah 26:3

October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. A day I wasn't even aware of until I experienced my own loss. I know many women and couples who have gone through heartbreak. My heart goes out to each and every one. I know God is holding our precious ones close to Him. 

I realize that everyone's story is different. I'm sharing our story because it's part of our journey. I felt it was time to break my silence and share what God brought us through in order to more fully celebrate the amazing miracle He's making now. My faith has been tested and I'm learning to trust God more than ever before in my life. His ways are not our ways, but we can rest assured that His ways are for our good. 

I may not know you or what you're going through, but if there's some way that I might be able to encourage you or pray for you, please reach out to me. I would be honored to be there for you. You are not alone.

"Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord." Psalms 27:14

A New Year

I've been experiencing a mild case of bloggers block. I've been putting off posting anything in the new year, thinking it needs to be something significant or really great to start the year off on a high note. But I've got nothing. Well, not really nothing. I have projects to post and other things I could write about. Maybe I put too much pressure on myself. So, here goes a random post of nothing and everything to get the 2014 ball rolling. 

My husband and I took a couple days off work around new years and it was glorious. I definitely needed some down time and took full advantage of not having a schedule. I slept in. Watched movies and too much TV. Ate junk food. I didn't leave the house for 3 whole days (coincidentally the weather was terrible). I got to see my girlfriends. It was marvelous. I need to do that more often. 

I'm actually reading a fiction book, just for fun (Mockingjay, the final book of The Hunger Games). I was completely opposed to the concept of the story and the obsession that was sweeping the nation when the first movie came out. Now that I've watched the first and second movie, I need to know how it concludes and can't wait for the third movie, so I'm actually reading the book before the movie. Something new for me. 

My current cold weather drink of choice is a chai latte. I bought a carton of TAZO Chai Tea Latte Concentrate (the same stuff they use at Starbucks) and I've been mixing it with almond milk and heating it in the microwave. The perfect way to brave a chilly morning drive to work.

For Christmas, Andrew got me a beautiful keyboard (piano, not computer) with all the bells and whistles. It was a total surprise! I've always loved listening to and playing the piano, but I haven't tickled the ivories in years. I took lessons in elementary school, but I admit, I wasn't a very good student (I hated practicing and don't enjoy reading music). I prefer playing by ear and memorizing a piece. I am extremely rusty but I'm looking forward to picking it up and trying to learn to play again.

I celebrated my "1 year" anniversary working in my "new job" (which really is almost the same as my "old job"), but now I'm working for the same company that hired me for my first job ever, back in 1999. So, technically I've been working for, or with, the same company for almost 15 years, which is just crazy to think about. And a little confusing. But, I'm so thankful to be doing a job I still enjoy so much. 

In five days, my best friend of 16+ years will be moving 11 hours away. I am not too happy about this. Her husband has an amazing new job waiting for him and they are following God's leading. I know they wouldn't be going if it wasn't clearly God's plan for the next chapter in their lives. I'm going to miss them and their two beautiful kiddo's terribly. I took for granted the fact that we grew up together and lived in the same town all our lives. I know this just means we'll have to keep in touch more frequently, and I'm thankful for the many ways technology makes that possible and easy. I'm excited to see where this new adventure takes their family, but they'll be taking a piece of my heart with them.

I am trying (key word trying) to eat healthier and incorporate some exercise into my week. I know, I know, it's January, who isn't? But, honestly, my goal is simply to increase my intake of fruits and vegetables, limit sweets, and start using our elliptical. We even brought the elliptical up from the basement and into the sitting room to make it more convenient. Because who wants to work out in a cold dark basement? No one. I plan on using it a couple times a week. Especially since our group of girls apparently "agreed" to do a 5K in the near future. I better start training! 

That's a little snapshot of my life at the moment. I do like the idea of a new year and a fresh start with new possibilities. I have been encouraged by this scripture in Isaiah 43:18-19,
"Remember ye not the former things, neither consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert." 

I'm looking forward to what God has in store for 2014.  

Appearances

Today, I'm going to steal borrow my home-girl Kimi's blog confession topic, and talk about appearances. My confession: I don't have it all together. I know, some of you may find this surprising. KIDDING. This also ties into a conversation that Andrew and I had the other day about insecurities. I have insecurities. A list of them. Try as I may, or pretend as I may, I'm not perfect. Nobody is. And like Kimi said, it's easy to stalk read blogs, Facebook or look at your group of friends and think that they have it all together. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect family. The perfect clothes. Once you walk down the comparison lane, it's a dead end to discontentment. 

So, I'm here to confess a few things that make me human, flawed, and just plain a little crazy from time to time. See that sweet little kitten up there? Sometimes I look more like the lion staring you down in the mirror. Not so sweet or cuddly. 

I am a bit of a neat freak. I like my house to look a certain way (like a page from Better Homes and Gardens) and I go to great lengths to keep it looking that way (most of the time). Despite living with a messy roommate husband who is not as concerned with housekeeping as I am. It is a bit of a challenge. And I know it drives him nuts.

Which brings me to the fact that I am a very impatient person. I like things done. Now. Not 10 minutes from now. Not 2 days from now. Now. And on top of that, I shouldn't have even had to ask you to do it. You should just know to do it. How's that for crazy? 

I tend to be a "keeper" of things. Not by any means a hoarder, I just have a hard time letting go of things that may come in handy in the future. It's the curse of a creative mind. For example, I might keep an empty oatmeal container to use as a storage can for something, even though I already have 5 of them. Or the box that something came in, just in case I ever need to pack it back up again. Or the empty milk jug to use for a craft. And don't get me started about saving plastic bags. I guess it's the packaging designer in me. Can't...put...it...in...the...trash...

I am stubborn. I admit it. Very stubborn. The same 4 year old that told her parents they could spank her and she wouldn't cry, still lives inside of me. I have a very difficult time admitting when I am wrong. That poses some challenges when you're married. Thankfully, Andrew is more patient than I am. We have arguments and we disagree at times, but we always work it out and forgive each other. 

I am mildly obsessed with clothes and usually have to be "put together" before I leave the house. I rarely go anywhere without makeup on. And forget going shopping in sweats. I just feel "undone" if I throw something on to go out anywhere. And then, without fail, I will run into someone I know, and regret not being more put together. I like fashion and I like looking nice. All the time. Is that a crime? Perhaps it's a bit high maintenance. 

Which brings me to insecurities. I care too much about what people think. I want people to like me. I want to appear "cool" and "put together" even if I'm not. I worry that I might say the wrong thing. Or not be outgoing or funny enough. I worry that I'm too quiet. I tend to be more of an introvert. I worry that I'm not a good enough wife/sister/daughter/friend/artist. Insecurities can drive you crazy - if you let them. 

Now that I've shared a few confessions of my own, I hope you see a little more of the real me. I don't have it all figured out. I have freak outs and meltdowns and bad days. I also have so much to be thankful for and so much good in my life. Which I attribute to a loving God who accepts me as I am, and cares for me just the same. I also have a husband and family that loves me and friends that I cherish. What more could I ask for? 

Thanks for the great topic Kimi :)