Monday, August 8, 2011

I'm even hormonal in my sleep...

Pregnancy sure is an adventure. In addition to the mid-night trips to the bathroom that lead to musings about Adam Sandler films, there is heartburn, a growing belly, a ridiculous decline in my ability to tolerate heat, and ninja movements happening from my insides. JP and I have been enjoying the ride thus far - though, to make it through to the end he's informed me he may need a parka and a wool hat. Temperatures keep dropping in this house y'all - the current night time setting is either 67 or 68, and sometimes I still wake up hot.

Anyhow, one of the most interesting parts of pregnancy to me is the hormones. I haven't been totally crazy, but I've had my moments. My advice for those who have to cope with and support pregnant ladies is this: whatever you do, do not, I repeat, DO NOT tell a woman "it's just hormones" in the middle of a hormonal episode. That will just increase the problem and lengthen the amount of time it takes for her to return to her normal state. Once she's past the breakdown, she'll realize it for herself (at least, this has been the case for me). It's best to wait until she's confessed her actions to be the result of hormones and then gently agree with her. If you're a bit more daring, you can kindly ask if you think it may be hormone related, long after she's past being emotional. (If she says no, say something like, "oh, ok" and back off the topic, quickly). My dear hubs has learned these tricks of the trade pretty fast and we're surviving the hormones without any damage - just some funny, and blog-worthy stories. Here are some of my favorite occurrences that I am officially blaming on hormones. (See, now, after the fact, I am fully able to laugh at them - at the time these episodes were NOT funny. AT ALL.)

Last week I made a meal and was missing an ingredient. JP told me that it didn't taste the same/as good without it. I burst into tears because to me this translated to "I don't appreciate you or think you do a good enough job cooking".

On my way back from the beach with my family, I got off schedule in my eating. When I was talking to JP on the phone I informed him that this would impact our dinner plans to go to the Blue Ridge Pig for barbeque, since I wouldn't be hungry. He said he was disappointed. Cue tears. I bawled and responded "I can't make anyone happy."

A few weeks ago we were at Sam's Club, shopping for things for the hospitality ministry at our church. I saw something called the "Giggle Wiggle Pregnancy Journal" and thought it would be a great way to record special moments from the pregnancy. I mentioned wanting it to JP and he was like, "really?" (not over the moon giddy like I was). I promptly began to cry, told him it was obvious he didn't care about our baby at all, took the car key and stormed out of Sam's. (Not one of my finer moments, I know). Dear husband went ahead and purchased the journal - he gave it to me after I'd calmed down.

Last night it was 10 something and JP said he was tired. We hadn't had much time for the two of us all day, because his fam had been over for a cookout. I asked if we could play Settlers or do some other fun/interactive activity to spend time together, but he said he was really tired. I was convinced that "I'm tired" was some kind of code for "I don't want to spend time with you" so I cried and then went to sleep. I thought I'd be in a better mood when I woke up - not quite.

I'm hormonal in my sleep too. I know it sounds crazy, but I am. Today I met the hubs for lunch downtown (we ate at the Nook - inside, because that's where the air conditioning is). JP asked me if I remembered talking to him this morning. I didn't, at all. He informed me that I turned over, and said "I blame you". Unsure what I was talking about, he asked "For what?" My reply was a grouchy "EVERYTHING!" and then I turned back over and went to sleep.

Pregnancy sure is a funny thing.


Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Middle of the night musings: God and an Adam Sandler film

So, I'm a few weeks away from beginning my third trimester. A lot of my friends and family keep remarking on how quickly time has gone by in my pregnancy and how the baby will be here so soon (3 and 1/2 months or so), but to me, it doesn't feel that way. I feel like I've been pregnant forever. All in all, it's been a pretty smooth ride (minus a few small nuisances) and I've mostly been enjoying it.

One of the things that I don't particularly enjoy though, is the frequency of my trips to the restroom. JP and I were watching a movie the other night, and I must have made him pause it 15 times -at least. It gets a bit out of control, and is especially annoying at night when I have to get up and stumble over Ollie, to the point that I'm fully awake. Add to this heartburn, and it's even more frustrating. That was my night last night. Trips to the bathroom, and waking up with heartburn. (As soon as I finish this post I plan to nap in order to make up for lost sleep -I'm sleeping for two y'all).

Well, despite the fact that I haven't known an uninterrupted night's sleep in months, and probably won't again for months or even years, there are occasionally benefits to being awake in the middle of the night, when everything else is quiet, and your mind is sort of doing it's own thing because you aren't in full control of your faculties. Every once in a while I feel like I hear God's voice or learn something about him in the quiet. Last night was such a night for me.

I woke up, nearly fell over the dog, and then cautiously avoided walking into his crate. I made my way to the restroom and back to bed, but, by then I was relatively awake. I laid in bed, mind racing, and what settled in after a few moments was the Adam Sandler movie, Fifty First Dates. I've seen the movie a couple times, but not recently, and my dream had been in no way related to the film. (I'd actually been dreaming that we were all kids and my sisters had done something to make my mom horribly upset and she was blaming me for their actions). Anyhow, my mind just couldn't stop thinking about that movie, and I had no idea why.

Then, I felt like God spoke to me, about how he's like Adam Sandler's character (Henry) in that movie. No, I don't think God is much like Adam Sandler, and I'm not being heretical - just hear me out.

So in Fifty First Dates Henry falls in love with Lucy, who suffers from brain damage and short term memory loss. When she goes to bed each night, she forgets everything from the day before. After a humorous pursuit of Lucy and her affections, the two fall in love, but have this obstacle to overcome - Lucy doesn't remember her boyfriend the next morning. Henry must remind his love who he is, and cause her to fall in love with him anew each day. It's a sweet story and a pretty cute movie - I think it's been a date night film for the hubs and I twice over the course of our nearly 10 year old relationship.

At any rate, I think God is lot like Henry with me. As I spend time with Him, He teaches me things. I learn from Him and our relationship grows. He teaches me lessons about who I am and about who He is. He shows me his ways and his plans and purposes for my life. Sometimes this is through scripture, sometimes through the words of others, and sometime through prayer. I record what I learn in a special journal I keep, and, sometimes, here. And then, it happens.

Like Lucy, I have memory problems. I don't "actually" lose my memory, there's nothing a doctor could diagnose, but still, I have notable issues remembering what the Lord has done for me. Like Lucy, I go to sleep (or to work, or back to old habits) and I forget. I can't remember the things I once knew to be true and all the lessons God has taught me. I forget what He's said about who He is, or who I am, or some other teaching he's given. It's not really that I can't remember them, it's more that the things that seemed as if they had "sunk in" have somehow "come out" and I have to relearn the same lessons and truths time and time again.

In the film, Lucy gets frustrated with herself sometimes, because she knows she's supposed to remember Henry, but she doesn't. That's often how I feel. Hebrews 5:12 comes to mind, "In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God all over again. You need milk, not solid food."

Still, Lucy has Henry, a man who is in love with her enough that he is willing to teach her, again, every single day, who she is. He makes her fall in love with him again, every. single. day. I think God is a lot like that with me. Despite how many times I've forgotten who I am in Christ, forgotten what He's done for me (in terms of the cross, and more specific, personal things in my individual life) and forgotten the things I had once learned, He's always willing to teach me again. He takes me just as I am, right where I'm at, and reminds me of these things. Then he helps restore our relationship again. I think God's love for His children is a lot like the committed, patient love of Henry Roth in Fifty First Dates. He is willing to teach, pursue, and call back his bride time and time again, even though she may forget Him.

And that my friends, is what I was thinking about at some ridiculous hour last night/this morning - about God and Adam Sandler's movie Fifty First Dates.