Musings of A Military Wife (& Mama Moments)

I had been laboring for a long time. “Just wait until she has to start pushing,” the nurse said to my husband. “She’ll be screaming and in so much more pain.”       Chained to an IV, pulse oximeter, blood pressure cuff, and baby heart rate and contraction monitors, this birth had begun as something foreign to my proposed calm, unmedicated birth I had been planning for so long.       During my pregnancy, I had become obsessed with the idea of an unmedicated birth. I received advice not to be too rigid in my birth plan so that in case it had to change, I wouldn’t be devastated. It was good advice, but the challenge of an unmedicated birth nearly consumed me, and while my motivation for a natural birth wasn’t completely faultless, I pursued it with every fiber of my being.       I have never researched or trained for anything more in my life. I listened to podcasts, read positive birth stories, googled nearly everything, drank...

 I'm just going to say it. 2020 was a great year for me. Before you egg my house and delete my blog from your reading list/ phone history, I will say quickly that 2020 also was incredibly difficult. For most people on earth, it's been a year of disaster after disaster. It's going to take some time to recover and rebuild. But for now, let's take some time to be grateful for 2020. Regardless of who you are, you can be thankful for these things too! I promise.  Character Building: From the pandemic lock-down and social distancing, we've had to grow in patience, discipline, and endurance. No matter how lax/ strict your approach became, none of us were able to live the same life we were living before. And our character was impacted. Trust me on this one. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. Romans 3:3-4 (NIV) A Change In Perception: All of us are pretty nosta...

Psalm 39:7  And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you. Matthew 6:33 But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Romans 8:35-39 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, "For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered." No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. 1 Corinthians 13:4a Love is patient... Isaiah 54:10 "..For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,...

Pregnancy is, by far, the strangest thing I have ever been through. It’s like I’ve lost my mind & can’t quite find it.  I got lost in the public restroom the other day. Instead I tried to walk into a nursing room, where I was kindly told I was going the wrong way.  I ugly cried in front of someone I had barely met. Thankfully it was at church & she immediately started praying for me and comforting me. I hope God blesses her all her life because she changed my whole pregnant day around. You must also know there are two different kind of cheese sticks in our fridge which have basically kept me alive.  Along with toast. My tummy does not look pregnant in a cute way; it looks pregnant in a bloated whale kind of way. I’m stuck between hiding it and hoping it’s not noticed and putting a hand on it hoping people will assume I’m pregnant. Which is a dangerous thing to do, people. My digestive system has quit on me. Weird stuff, friends. I can barely jog with...

  When the days are long and the hope is hard to reach, stretch out a hand to the small delights of life, utilized by few, but available to us all. ·          The notepad on my phone, or the blank lines in my journal- I fill these with persistent thoughts that scoop needless anxiety upon my head. They are acknowledged, they are expressed, we can let them go, we can advance with a clear mind . ·          The sun filters through the blinds and hurls a streak of light against the wall. Tiny dried white flowers repose in a glass jar on a heavy wooden table. The shape of my husband’s face, the smile after he teases me, the strength of his being, of his mind, of his character. I note these things , learning to be grateful, finding comfort in the small quest of noticing what I love and being thankful for them.* ·          The feeling of dough between my fingers ...

Before moving to Las Vegas, I lived on a dirt road, nestled against a desert “mountain.” Our next door neighbors were my grandparents, and my first job was cleaning the house/corrals right across the street. Down some stone steps, a fig, guava, and a couple peach trees repose, and lining the two long concrete driveways are pine trees planted years before by my grandparents. If you climb up on the garage roof, you can soak up some sun or take in the night sky when it's dark. Some nights the stars are incredibly vibrant and piercing: in fact, this is where my boyfriend (now husband) decided to propose to me. Chickens, kittens, two little dogs, and my huge family and I (and whoever else was around) all resided in this sweet childhood house. And then I got married. And I moved to Las Vegas. And now I live above, around, amidst, and altogether WITH many strangers in this apartment complex. Yeah, it’s just my husband and I living in our apartment (insert many heart eyes), b...