When the Going Gets Tough...

Sometimes I am a sinful, sinful woman.  Ok, that's not true.  All the time I am a sinful, sinful woman.  The Lord showers me with grace daily in this regard, though, and I thank Him for that.

My loves.  How precious are they?

I have a wonderful husband.  Words cannot express how fantastic he is.  He is Christ-like.  He is patient.  He is loving.  He is so very smart (far, far smarter than me).  He is a hard worker, maybe one of the hardest working people I know.  He is rational (especially when I am not).  He is good at EVERY-THING.  Seriously.  He is beyond talented.  Most of all, he is not perfect, and I love that most about him.  He is also a small business owner.  I don't know if many of you know anything about small business owners, but they are very, very, very, very busy.  Very.  Ben works hours that, I'll be honest, are slightly unheard of unless you are in the medical field.  He works Monday-Saturday (and, let's be honest, sometimes Sunday).  His days are never shorter than 12 hours, most of the time 14, but he is always home by 6pm for dinner, walks, giggles, baths, and bed.  Honestly, I'm not sure how he does it. 

I feel like I expect a lot out of my husband.  The beauty of being a stay at home mom is that you get to be with your child everyday.  The downside of being a stay at home mom is that you get to be with your child every. single. day.  PLEASE, do not get me wrong, it is wonderful.  I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world, but sometimes, mama gets tired.  Real tired.  I realized the other day that the moment my husband walks in the door, he clocks out from being Ben the contractor/architect (more aptly known in our house as a contractortect...it's real, look it up), to being Ben the daddy-who-needs-to-give-mama-a-break-so-she-can-finish-dinner-and-not-weep-in-the-asparagus.  The only moment of solace he gets is the 10-15 minute ride home from the office to our house.  He never complains.  Saint.

I write this post today because this past week was a tough one for me.  I know that there are thousands and thousand and THOUSANDS of women out there who have it way worse than me.  They are raising babies by themselves while their husbands are in far off lands defending our freedom.  My heart goes out to them.  I don't know how you do it except to take it one day at a time.  However, this is where I am and this is what I have been dealing with.  You can silently hate me and judge me if you want, but I'm just keeping it real.

My husband's work is great.  Despite a lackluster economy, somehow Appleseed Workshop has managed to stay afloat, and even thrive.  We know this is only because of the Lord.  There have been some dark times, but He has brought them through every storm and trial and we give Him all the glory for that.  They have stayed busy and always have a project going on; most of the time it's multiple projects.  With those multiple projects come multiple demands, which means lots of time and energy and resources are spread out to those jobs.  Again, blessings and gifts from above, but when these things collide, I don't see my husband.  Sure, he may make it home for dinner, but emotionally and mentally, he has checked out.  He is here, but he is not here.  That's hard for me. I don't know if you've figured this out about me, but being the youngest of four children I am slightly needy.  I know.  Gasp.  I can get my feelings hurt very easily.  And all this was fine when I was just wallowing in self-pity by myself, but now that there's an infant verging on toddler in the mix to wallow with me, it's even worse. During stressful, strenuous work times, Satan wants me to believe that my husband values and loves his company more than me.  Most of the time I beat that lie down and put it back in the pit where it belongs, but every now and again it creeps back up so secretively I don't even have time to set up a good defense.  This week was one of those times.  I felt alone.  I felt overwhelmed.  I felt unimportant and unappreciated in my role as a wife and a mother.  I snapped at my husband (more than once...whoops).  However, Ben was patient with me and reminded me again that he does all this for me and Oliver.  He often asks me the question, "Do you think I'd rather be doing <fill in the blank> than hanging out here with you guys?"  I have to remind myself of that little fact when times get tough.

I mean this is what I've been dealing with this week.  Hello.

My sweet friends and fellow Appleseed wives reminded me this morning how we are called to help our husbands and encourage them in these stressful work times and how we need to shower them in prayer during this time.  How precious is that? How selfish am I that I never even think first about how Ben is feeling with all the work he has and I only think about how it effects ME.  How tired I am of dealing with a teething baby.  How tired I am of picking up dirty socks and underwear.  How tired I am of making dinner and putting away dishes.  I know, I know.  Wife. Of. The. Year.  Again, thank you Lord for your grace and mercy.

Life is all about perspective.  I am thankful for a hard working husband who has work to do!  There are so many wives out there who are struggling with the exact opposite problem.  I am thankful for a husband who views what I do day in and day out as a job (and a hard one at that).  I am thankful for a husband who loves me well and thinks about me even when I am not my most lovable.  I pray you all can know that same feeling.  Love your men today, ladies, even when it's hard.  Even when you don't want to.  You are their biggest fan and their greatest support.  Remember that.

A Mother's Day Tribute

Mother's Day is coming up this Sunday.  Every person on the planet, in some way or another, is affected by Mother's Day.  Either you have a mama or you are a mama (and sometimes both).  I wanted to take some time to address all the ways motherhood has affected our lives.

I know I am a little biased, but I think I have the best mama in the world.  Words cannot even express how much I love her.  Obviously I love both of my parents more than words can say, but this post is about mamas, so there you go.  My mother has sacrificed more than I will ever know or could ever understand.  She didn't finish college in order to get married and have babies.  She stayed home to raise us and only went back to work when we were old enough to be a little more independent.  She even went back to college taking night courses when I was 6 years old, while working as a PE aide at our school,  and to this day I don't know how she did it.  I remember being a lazy 22 year old college of ed student stressed out with the amount of work put on me during college, but that is nothing compared to taking care of a family on top of that.  She never wavered in her responsibilities and we never did without.  She went on to become one of the most fabulous 1st grade teachers I have ever known (and I know most of you will agree with me).  She thought outside the box (and still does) and she has ALWAYS done what is right for kids, no matter what.  She stayed late and worked on weekends, but we never felt any less important to her.  She has worked from being just an aide to now being the principal of one of the best schools in Mobile County.  I could not be more proud of her.  She had a goal and had faith the Lord would bring her to it, and He did.  Maybe not as quickly as she would've liked, but she made it.  She is hilarious and wonderful and tells the best stories.  She loves all four of us so well and is maybe an even better grandmother to her four grandchildren than she is a mama (though I don't know HOW that is possible ;) ).  I am beyond grateful for you and your life, Honey.  You are my role model and inspiration to show me that anything is possible.  I love you.

There have been so many motherly figures in my life, I honestly can't even begin to count them.  The one that sticks out most in my mind is my Mamaw.  I miss that woman every. single. day.  Even now as I type this my eyes fill with tears because I wish she was here.  She was the only grandmother I ever knew.  I so wish I could call her sometimes when I am cooking something to ask her how she did it or how to get out a stain or what to do when Oliver is _______.  She was so wise and wonderful and full of personality.  She worked hard.  Her and my mother run of a close race for being the hardest working women I have ever known.  I guess we know where Honey gets it from. ;)  My heart hurts that my babies will never know my Mamaw.  She would've loved them so well and sang to them and rocked them on her patio and told them all kinds of stories.  I was blessed beyond measure to grow up on the same street as her.  Memories of pop ices, pickles, shelling peas, tiny glasses of Coke, and cornbread fill my thoughts constantly.  I miss that woman and will love her always.

I have also been blessed with a wonderful mother-in-law and grandmother-in-law (is that a thing?) who have loved me so well!  They welcomed me into their family like I was one of their own and I am forever grateful for that.  I can't wait to make memories with them and watch my babies love them the way I loved my grandmother and great-grandmother.  Thank you, sweet ladies, for being wonderful. 

This holiday never goes by that I don't think about that mamas who are without.  The mamas who are missing babies that are no longer with us, the mamas who are missing babies they never got a chance to hold, the mamas who long for a baby of their own, and the mamas who miss their own mamas.  I can't even imagine.  I truly don't know what any of you are going through, but there is someone in my life who fits every single one of those descriptions.  How does one move on from the death of a child?  Or a miscarriage?  The only answer is Christ.  We have to trust we serve a loving, just, and merciful God who has taken those sweet babies in His arms and is loving on them every single day in a better way that we ever could.  I know it doesn't make their absence any easier, but it helps me to grieve for you believing that truth.  How does a woman celebrate a day she so longs to be a part of more than anything in this world?  A woman who longs for a baby, but her womb stays empty.  A woman who waits on an adoption she feels like will never be finalized.  Again, I can only point to Christ.  He has something so magnificent planned for you.  He will give you what you need.  He will meet you where you are, if you will only go with Him.  Never give up, mama.  Something good is coming.  How does a woman celebrate this holiday wishing her own mama was here?  I always think about my mother on this day.  How her heart must ache with no mother on earth here to love.  How much she must want to pick up the phone or send her card or buy her a gift, but can't.  And again I say, you celebrate it knowing they are celebrating this day with their King.  I know my Mamaw loved the Lord with all her heart, mind, and strength and knew Jesus in a way I only hope I'll know him, so there is no doubt in my mind where she is today.  I hope you can rest in knowing that truth is real in your life.  That the mothers who aren't here with us this Sunday are rejoicing with their Father.

I love being a mother.  It is hard and wonderful at the same time.  It is the job I feel I was destined to do.  It is thankless and full of sacrifice, but the thing is, you never think twice about it.  No meal or drink is your own anymore, and I wouldn't have it any other way.  I am beyond blessed.  Thank you, Lord, for all the mamas in my life.  For the women who have guided me and shaped me into the mother I am today.

What cutie.   I swear he loves me...

My Top 5 Mama Myths

Most soon-to-be first time moms live in a fantasy world.  I don't say that be harsh, I say that because I lived there, too.  And then my child was born and I realized a lot of things I read/heard/saw were lies.  LIES.  Now, granted, I don't really feel like a full-fledged mom just yet.  My child is only 9 months old and I feel like I've still got a lot to learn and miles to go, but I wanted to share some common "myths" or misconceptions of being a mama.

1. "You'll lose all that baby weight just by breast-feeding!"
This has to be the biggest lie I have heard ever.  In the history of lies.  I have been breast-feeding for 9 months now and I don't feel like a single, tiny milli-pound (it's a thing...) has come off my body due to nursing.  In fact, I have never eaten more in my whole life.  I can remember in the first weeks of nursing, I literally ate as much as my husband.  My grown husband.  Who often spends his day doing manual labor and does crossfit and who is literally impossible to keep full.  That is the teenage boy monster I had turned into.  I ate. And drank gallons of water. And I ate some more.  Dieting was out of the question.  And I am well aware that you burn up to 500 calories a day--trust me, I felt it, but you also eat those 500 calories because YOU. ARE. SO. HUNGRY.  Have I mentioned the hunger factor?  I get so annoyed when I see celebrities talk about how they lost their baby weight and they say, "Well, I lost the first 20 pounds breastfeeding," and then later to find out they nursed for like a day.  Also, they are liars.  The one thing I have heard from lots of mamas is that the rest of their weight came off AFTER they stopped nursing.   Just letting you know, mamas to be, don't be like me.

2.  "You're going to be a stay at home mom?  Won't you be bored?"
This wasn't so much a lie that I believed, but that most people around me believed.  I am here to say that being a stay at home mama is the opposite of boring.  Every single moment of my day is planned and full of babytime adventure...and I just have ONE child.  My sweet lamb is on a schedule.  As a former elementary school teacher and a self proclaimed control freak, Mama loooooves a schedule and routine.  Therefore our days are carefully planned.  Oliver takes 2 naps a day and I treasure those 2 naps because when that boy is awake, it is all. systems. GO!  Especially now that we are mobile.  Even in the early days before mobility, it was never boring.  My advice to any soon to be stay at mama to fight the boredom blues (though I doubt they will be there) is find a routine and consistency.  I don't care what anyone says, children love structure, even babies.  He is happier because of it. More of this subject later...

3. "Any baby can sleep through the night if you're doing everything right."
Ok, this is something I had to learn for myself, but not through my own child.  I will admit, for the most part, Oliver is a great sleeper.  He takes after his daddy in that respect.  When that boy is ready for bed, he is ready for bed.  I fully anticipate him being the 2 year old who puts himself down for naps/bedtime/etc. because that's how Ben was (and still is).  We have our moments of sleepless nights due to sickness or teething or general cranky-pants syndrome, but for the most part, the kid is a breeze.  However, there are mamas who aren't so lucky.  I have seen women who do everything right by their child.  They swaddle, they shush, they start solids, they cry it out, they rock to sleep, they don't rock to sleep, everything, and still, their child is not a great sleeper.  My arrogance in that area went right out the window.  Every kid is different, and sometimes, it doesn't matter what you do, they're just going to do what they want to do, and eventually, you guys will work it out together.  Leave your preconceived sleep notions at the door, mamas, and follow your babies lead.  The rest will fall into place.

4.  "You're having kids, so there goes your social life."
Ok, sure, in a way this is true, but it's still annoying.  However, it all depends on what you mean by social life.  I don't feel like Ben and I get out any less.  Our outings have definitely changed, though.   Exciting times for us now is a trip to the grocery store, a walk around the neighborhood, a trip to the park, going to hang out at a friends house, or going to get yogurt or a Steel City Pop (yuuums).  I wouldn't trade it for anything.  Yes you need to make time for you and your spouse, but having kids doesn't mean you don't have a life; the definition of life has just changed, that's all.  Learn to enjoy life's simple pleasures and everything will be fine.

5.  "We're going to wait until we're financially ready to have kids."
Sister, give it up.  If that's what you're waiting for, you will never have kids.  Should you be financially responsible to have kids? Umm, duh.  But what does "financially ready" even mean?  It's a very relative term that can mean lots of different things.  Do you want to eliminate debt?  Have a certain amount in the bank?  Pay off your house?  Your car?  Student loans?  Don't be afraid to take a step out.  No matter what you do, you will never be "ready" for kids.  You just need to accept that.  Mine is 9 months old and some days I still don't feel ready (don't call social services just yet...we're figuring it out). What you really need to ask yourself is are you ready to take on the whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities that come with being a parent.  Being financially ready doesn't make being a parent any easier, nothing does.  As long as you are ready to love and squeeze on that little nugget, you'll figure the rest out.

What about you?  What are some myths/misconceptions/lies you believed?  Or were you perfect? ;)

Meanwhile, how cute is my kid?

Playing...what he does best.

Grass...it feels weird.

All little boys play in their dogs crate...right?

"Role" With It

Confession:  I have been watching Jon & Kate Plus Eight recently.  Ok...a LOT of Jon & Kate Plus Eight.  Blame it on the Netflix or lack of cable, but I can't help it.  I'm actually watching it right now.  DON'T WORRY, my child is sleeping...I'm not that neglectful.  I watched the show when it came on originally, but, like many, discontinued viewing after the family went to splitsville.  I'm not sure why, but the whole "we are horrible to each other but love each other" lost it's luster after they both went a little cray-cray.

Watching this show has allowed me to think a lot about the roles men and women play in marriages, particularly, what roles Ben and I play.  Call me crazy or not a "modern woman", but I am a big fan of traditional gender roles.  ::gasp:: I know, I am the problem with the women's rights movement (not really).  No, but in all seriousness, I really enjoy the roles Ben and I play in our marriage.  I cook, clean, and take care of the kids and he works and brings home the bacon.  It's pretty simple.  Now, that's not to say Ben does not have chores around the house.  He does and he happily serves me in those areas.  He takes out the trash, does the dishes every night, bathes Oliver, plays with him from the minute he gets home, reads him stories, takes care of the yard work, and so much more.  I really can't complain, but then again, neither can he. ;) I feel like we are a great team and together we encourage one another to be better and love one another well.

So, what does this have to do with Jon & Kate?  In the earlier episodes, and even right until they split, I really noticed how they genuinely are a team (a well oiled machine even) and each of them had their different jobs to do, but the one thing I noticed was missing in all of this was JOY.  They were cold to one another, and constantly criticized each move or decision that the other made.  How can you be willing to serve and help your spouse when they are constantly making you feel like you didn't get it right again and you probably never will?  I know that Kate could definitely be a B, but old Jon was not much better.  Sure, they had their moments of love, but those were definitely few and far between.  You all can hate me if you want, I'm just calling it like it is.  I know I am not always going to have a giant smile on my face and radiate joy when I'm folding the 8th load of laundry that day, but to grumble and complain about my husband or to my husband doesn't make it any better and sure doesn't fold those clothes any faster.

As a wife, I want to help my husband.  I feel that is my number one job.  It is my duty and my privilege to come along side him and live life together.  I will be submissive to him.  That does not mean he is the boss and what he says goes, but that we make decisions together, compromise, and I need to believe he has mine and O's best interest at heart when he makes a decision for our family.  You can say I am setting women back 50 years with that kind of thinking, but I wouldn't have it any other way.  I want to encourage my husband, not put him down every chance I get.  I want to be his helpmeet.  I want him to feel confident to take care of our son when I'm not there, or even when I am there, and not make him feel like I am going to nag him for everything he does that isn't the exact way I would do it.  Above all, I want him to love the Lord more than me, as I know he wants the same for me.

As women, we have a natural bent to control.  You can thank Eve for that.  Our desire is for our husband, but not in the way that sounds; we want to do their job.  We think no one can do it like we can and so we might as well just do it ourselves.  The world tells us that mindset is OK, but people, IT IS NOT!  Instead we should teach others how to do things and TRUST they can do it and if it's not exactly the way you would do it, WHO CARES?!  The sun will rise again and it will all be OK. 

I know that with life and more children comes more stress on a marriage.  I've seen it happen and I've seen it ruin many, many marriages, but I believe it comes from a wrong mindset.  Children are a blessing, even on their worst days, and life is going to be hard, but find the joy in it.  I know these two concepts are easier said than done, but at the end of the day, it's what matters.  I pray that through good times and bad, I continue to love my husband well, but I know this can only happen by God's grace.  We have to remember how the Gospel has changed us each and every day and remember why we are here: the glorify God and enjoy Him forever.

Biting the "Bullet"

First off, I want to say thank you for all your support in my blog endeavor.  All of your sweet words and encouragement have meant so much.  It has also put some pressure on me to have fantastical blog entries.  I need to say that each blog will not be moving and gut wrenching, but it will be practical, and hopefully, entertaining.  So I apologize in advance when I disappoint with an entry. ;)

My sweet little O is almost 9 months old.  That means he has been eating solid foods for nearly 3 months now.  I can't even believe it.  I remember the first bit of food I gave him, I could've cried.  For 6 months of his life, I was the only person/thing he needed for food and sustenance.  Look at that baby face; how could you not want to eat that up?

I have said before that I was going to make O's food once he got started, and I have.  For 3 months now I have been boiling, baking, steaming, slicing, dicing, and pureeing and I love it.  I am surprised at how much I have enjoyed it.  I knew that deciding to take on this task could be a little daunting, but I wanted to make this sacrifice for O.  There were two main reasons I wanted to make his food for him: 1-It is far cheaper to make it myself, and, like I've said before, with me not working, we are looking for any way possible to cut corners. 2-Have you SEEN what is in baby food? And have you tasted it?!  It's horrible.  We went out of town about a month ago so I had to buy some jars of food (I even bought organic) and he HATED it.  With the food I make, I have only found one thing he can't stand (peas...texture, my friends) and, to be honest, I would actually eat any of the things I make him (yes, I tasted them).  He. Loves. To. EAT.  Mangos, blueberries, avocados, green beans, squash, sweet potatoes, peaches, cauliflower, and so much more.  And I know the rule:  food for fun until they're one and we are most definitely subscribing to that mindset, but we've had so much fun experimenting and exploring with food.

I write this post to say, making your child's food is actually really easy AND...you don't need anything fancy to do it.  I am here to say, as much as I love it, you do NOT need a Baby Bullet or any of the stuff that comes with it.  I am making this bold statement as someone who owns ALL of it.  That's right.  I, Katie Strout, love a gimmick.  Advertisers basically have me in mind when they make anything cliche.  For whatever reason, I am just drawn to it.  So, of course, when we were registering for baby things, I clicked ALL THINGS Bullet related: processor, steamer, trays, storage, you name it, I clicked it.  We got a lot of it.  We got the processor (which comes with a ton of accessories) and I went a little later and purchased the steamer, because I NEEDED it...right...

Hear me out; I'm not saying the stuff is bad, I'm just saying it isn't necessary.  Ok, if I'm being honest, it's bad.  There, I said it.  The steamer only lasted about 2 months before it has started to act completely insane (I did have a minor episode with a batch of blueberry juice overflowing, BUT that thing should be better than that...come on now) and it never knows when it wants to work so I have given that up.  We have another food processor already in our house (The Ninja--I HIGHLY recommend it...it is ah-mazing...makes the most beautifully smooth smoothies you've ever tasted in your life) so I decided to do a comparison between the Ninja and the Bullet, assuming the Bullet would win, annnnnd I was wrong.  The Ninja was far superior and I was able to make larger batches because it has two different size blenders.  I mean, with a name like Ninja, is it any wonder it won?  Come on, people. 

There are some things I love about the Bullet.  All the little accessories that come with it have been super handy.  The little portable storage containers are great for taking food with us when we have somewhere to be and the little book that came with it gave me great ideas for recipes but HEY, guess where else you can find that sort of stuff...the internet. 

If any of you are venturing into the baby food making world and want some advice, I'd be happy to help.  I won't bore you with a mundane post about making food, but I am here to say, if you have an oven, a stove top, some pots/pans, and cookie sheets, you are good to go.  Deep thoughts...from Katie Strout.

What is Birth? (Baby, Don't Hurt Me)

A few days ago, I made a post on Facebook that I feel the need to dig a little deeper into and explain a little better. 

Birth.  It's a magical, wonderful, spiritual thing, right?  Right?!  OK, in all honesty, it is; but for some women, like myself, it can be source of insecurity.  When I was pregnant, I LOVED birth.  I loved reading about it and loved hearing about it.  I loved to hear how people brought their babies into this world, the journey they took, the struggle and anguish, and the sweet reward that waited for them at the end of it all.  Well...except of course if you had a c-section, because, in my mind, that didn't really "count" as giving birth.  Feel free to slap pregnant me at any time.  I don't know why I felt this way; social stigma, lack of knowledge, pure naive arrogance, I'm not really sure which.  I think I always viewed c-sections as the easy way out.  It was the super fancy, ultra celebrity way to give birth.  You scheduled it, they take your baby, maybe slip in a tummy tuck, bing, bang, boom, you're out.  That is, until I had one of my own.  *Queue dramatic music and pause here*

Honestly, a c-section was never, EVER something I thought would happen to me.  My husband and I had planned an unmedicated delivery, but obviously the Lord had something different in mind.  It needs to be said that I had a pretty difficult labor.  My labor started at 4 o'clock in the morning on July 26th and Oliver wasn't born until 3:24 am on July 27th...so...a long day.  I had pretty terrible back labor and it wasn't long before I threw in the towel and decided to get an epidural.  That, I could deal with.  I told myself that I would be disappointed with myself if I got an epidural, but I could live with it.  Honestly, I didn't know labor was going to be as bad as it was.  And newsflash: labor sucks.  Sorry for all of you out there who had a supernatural, out of body experience and felt no pain or still think it's wonderful, but mine was terrible.  I truly remember wanting to kiss the anesthesiologist on the lips after my epidural (I had been laboring for close to 20 hours).

In my mind, I had really envisioned Ben and I in the perfect birth setting.  A utopia of sorts.  Warm lighting, soft music, me completely zoned in and visualizing all the things we practiced, and Ben being the perfect coach.  Not so much.  Ben was wonderful, but I was stressed, and in agonizing pain, and honestly, I just wanted to rest, so I got the dang drugs.  Sue me.  I regret nothing because when I finally got my epidural they hooked me up to the fetal heart monitor only to discover that with each intense contraction I was having, Oliver was going into distress.   His heart rate was dropping quickly and there was no sign that he was going to come out anytime soon.  To be frank, if I hadn't gotten an epidural, I'm not sure what would've happened to my sweet boy. 

Everything was so chaotic when my OB told me what was about to happen.  She KNEW it wasn't what we wanted, but at 2:30 in the morning and after 22 hours of labor, you do what your OB says.  Everyone was rushing around and I started to feel extremely anxious (I have never had major surgery ever) and think I may have had a borderline anxiety attack, I'm not so sure.  I just wanted to rip off my oxygen mask, get up, and run out of the room, but seeing as I couldn't even wiggle a toe, that wasn't happening.   All I could think about was how would I nurse my baby immediately, how would he know me, how would I take care of him if I was on heavy drugs?  I had never planned out how to handle this scenario.  The Lord really has a sense of humor.  They rushed me off to surgery, did some tugging and pulling, and minutes later, I heard the sweetest sound I have heard in my life; the sound of my baby crying.   In that moment, nothing mattered.  He was here, he was safe, I was happy.  Then, all of a sudden, I realized how incredibly exhausted I was, and the drugs they had me on did not help.  All I wanted to do was look at my baby, but all I could do was close my eyes.  Mom. Fail.  I did manage to slip in a nap while they were sewing me up, but I has pretty dang out of it all day (thanks, morphine drip).  To this day, I still do truly believe we made the right choice for us and our baby, but I have never been more disappointed in myself.  I didn't get a magical moment, a rush of endorphins, to hold and nurse my baby as soon as he came out, my husband didn't get to cut the cord, none of it.  All of those sweet moments that I wanted to make into memories didn't happen. 

I think I'm realizing more and more how much I was making the birth of my son an idol in my life.  I worshiped it.  I was arrogant.  I was prideful.  I just longed to do what I was created to do, but I feel like I was robbed of that opportunity.  I recently watched the documentary "The Business of Being Born" followed by the TV series "More Business of Being Born" and it was very interesting.  For those who don't know, this is a documentary series done by Ms. Ricki Lake where she reports on just that, birth being a business and women being robbed of the opportunity of the birth they want with forced inductions and scheduled c-sections.  I loved hearing all the things they had to say.  I actually enjoyed "More Business of Being Born" a little more than the original film.  In it, there is a whole episode where celebrity mothers share their birth stories.  Most are unmedicated home births with a few hospital births.  I really appreciated all of the brutal honesty.  They talked about how hard it was and how much they wanted to quit, but how they knew their baby was at the end of that struggle.  I even wanted to hug Kimberly Williams Paisley (AKA Annie from "Father of the Bride") when she shared basically an identical birth story to my own.  I was not alone!  And then there was Gisele Bundchen.  She recounted how calm and wonderful her pregnancy was, how amazing she is, how fabulous her birth was, how she felt no pain, and I just wanted to punch her in her beautiful, Brazilian face.  Birth is raw and nasty and she was just so dang perfect.  I hate her and she is a l-i-a-r.  She is the reason I have issues with myself and my own birth experience.  It's all your fault, Gisele (OK, I'm being slightly dramatic, but come on, she sucks).

I say all of this to say, I believe everything happened exactly the way it was supposed to happen.  Am I happy with it?  Yes and no.  Will I try again for a VBAC if I am blessed with another child?  Yep.  Will I hate myself if it doesn't happen?  I surely hope not.  I am learning as a mother, and a woman, to give myself some grace.  I am learning that every mother's story is different.  Some deliver vaginally, some have a c-section, and some mothers don't even get the opportunity to do either.  I am blessed that the Lord allowed me to carry my son for 9 beautiful months.  I know that full well.  And every story of birth is beautiful...even a c-section. ;)

The Truth About Being a Mom...

I know, I know.  I am literally the worst. blogger. ever.  Cut me some slack, I have an 8 month old.  He has, however, finally decided that he wants to take part in the schedule I've been trying so hard to implement, so I do have blocks of time where I could actually make this writing thing happen. And to top it off, I come back with the longest. post. ever.  You are all quite welcome. 

I have to say that I usually go for the route of humor in the blog world.  Nothing personal, it's just my style.  That is not to say I won't read a serious/heartfelt blog post. However, today, I am going to speak very candidly and from the heart.  I feel like this is something I need to share so other moms out there (all 3 of you that will read this...you're welcome) don't feel alone.

I love my child.  I really do.  Next to Jesus and my husband, he is my most favorite thing.  He is hilarious, sweet, adventurous, loving, and all around easy going, but I hate what he has done to my body.  I said it.  Out loud.  I think admitting it is the hardest part.  I have spoken with a select few about this issue mostly because I'm just embarrassed.  I can honestly say I hate the way I look.  I can't believe I'm even typing it right now, but it needs to be said.  I know I am not alone in this battle, but in the midst of all my insecurities I feel so alone.  I see beautiful, tiny, thin mamas everywhere.  At the gym, in the grocery store, at church, in Chick-Fil-A.  There seems to be so many women out their who have babies, you blink, and they look as if nothing ever happened.  Mind blowing. Before I had Oliver, I just knew I would be one of those.  I would have him, nurse him, and BOOM-like magic, a few months later, I would be back in my pre-preggo jeans (with no muffin top, might I add), no problem.  Well I'm here to say that 8 months later, while still nursing, ain't no way those jeans are coming on right now.  I feel like the Lord loves to humble me.  The one thing I am realizing with age is that I, Katie Strout, am extremely prideful.  I have this assumption that things will just come easy for me.  What I am learning is if I think that, the opposite will most definitely come true, and if I think it's difficult, it will be a breeze.  Go figure. 

I know that my body will one day go back to some sort of normal and that nothing lasts forever, but it's just hard.  I go to the gym, I run, I go to classes, and it is slowly but surely coming off (so my husband says, I do not see it), but I will be the first to say that I am not rigorously dieting.  I have now been nursing Oliver for 8 months and I am so afraid to do anything that will mess with my supply at this point.  We have made it so far and it was SO HARD and trying in the beginning that I am just not willing to compromise in this area.  Sometimes it makes me a little resentful that I have sacrificed so much of myself and my body for him, but I would do it over again in a heartbeat.  I don't eat crazy.  I eat like a normal person, but I am by no means living the paleo life. 

The main reason I have felt compelled to write this is because I feel like the Lord is truly breaking me over this bondage I have.  Last night, I was supposed to accompany my sweet husband to the grand opening of a project Appleseed just got finished designing/building.  I'll be honest, I did not want to go.  I don't mind going out and about everyday because I can throw on workout gear and not feel guilty, but, these days, dressing up to go somewhere has to be right up there with being shut off by myself in a room full of birds (which I'm terrified of, btdubbs).  I made up some excuse about how hard it would be to get Oliver out and could we find a sitter and I even said, if it's really important, I'll go, but I'd just rather not; never being TRULY honest about why I didn't want to go.  He told me it was perfectly fine, he'd go and mingle and be back around 6.  And truthfully, I don't think he nor myself realized how big of a deal it was until he got there.  I mean, this WAS a big deal.  This was the largest project they have ever done.  And it was fabulous.  No one is more proud of my husband than me.  He is one of the hardest working men I know, waking up at 3:30 or 4 am most days just to be home in enough time to spend with Oliver and me.  I am his biggest fan and cheerleader, but last night, I let him down and didn't show up. And with that move Satan won.  He wants me to believe I am not lovely, that I am not beautiful, that my husband is not proud to be seen with me, and I let that voice win. He got home, we talked, he was tired, I apologized for not being there, he said it was fine, but I knew it wasn't.  There was this gnawing in me all night (the LORD, hello) and I finally broke down (and I mean I was weeeeeeping, like uncontrollably) and I had to wake him up and confess everything to him.  He poured grace over me and reassured me of all my insecurities and picked me right back up.  Precious lamb.

I say all this to say I am still not 100%.  The Lord is most definitely doing a work in me.  I still get weepy today when I think about how I let Ben down, but how much he showed me the gospel in that moment.  How I confessed my sin to sweet friends and they picked me up and reminded me who I am and how much I am loved.  I cannot let my fears and insecurities keep me from living.  I know there are millions of women out there who would give their right arm to have a baby and be miserable with the way they look just to have a child of their own.  I know that and my heart breaks for them.  But this is where I am.  I pray the Lord would use this post in your life in some way.  Maybe you don't empathize with me, and maybe you do.  I pray you let the Lord remind you of who you are.  That we are daughters of the King and nothing, not even the lies of Satan, can take that truth away.