Aside
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I’m doing that thing where I keep myself up even though I’m physically beat and my body longs to melt into our heavenly little family bed…

I’m sitting in front of the computer, hands clasped, biting my knuckles. Listening to the dog whine in her kennel. And the Crowder channel on Pandora. And the crickets outside my window.

More talk, today, of the husband potentially being deployed. We will know if it’s for sure sometime soon. No idea where to, or when, or for how long, or how many people would go… And even if we did have an idea, it’s not like I could post it here. All we know for sure is that people from his unit are getting sent overseas. Yippee.

I guess I’m feeling a bit silly for believing that he would make it the last four years of his career without getting sent overseas. For the seventh time. I’m praying that this skips us, passes us over… I feel like Jesus before His crucifixion… So many times in the past few weeks I’ve found myself asking, “Father, if You can, please take this from us…” Ultimately, I want His will to be done. But I’m seriously hoping that His will does not include giving up my other half for any significant length of time.

What does this mean for baby making? I dunno. Still getting the IUD taken out… Still gonna start the lovenox injections as a precaution. Not sure, however, if we will actively TTC. Who knows… It doesn’t seem to matter much anymore.

I guess I’m having a difficult time with this because there’s no one I can really talk to about it. I want to talk to my mom, but she would just worry her little heart out and obsess over it. I told my dad a bit of what I’ve heard, and he says he will be praying for us. But really what I want to hear is that I don’t need to worry about it and that aliens came to earth from mars to eradicate terrorism so that the “good guys” who’ve invested years of their lives in this stupid war already can take a friggin break. I’m tired of it. I gave up my father for a year and a half while I was in high school to go play with camel spiders. Meanwhile, three of my friends gave up their fathers for the same reason around the same time. Except, forever.

I don’t want my son to be a Gold Star kid.

Yep, I’m selfish.

Am I a horrible person? Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this lifestyle. Don’t get me wrong, I’m capable of holding down the fort while he does his thing.

But Lord help me… If harm comes to this man, I will weasel my way into whatever country he was in, find the party responsible, and make someone’s day. One thing I learned in basic training – I have surprisingly good aim.

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Crying it out.

EDIT: I just re-read this, and I realized I didn’t make this very clear – we never let Kenneth cry it out, which is why this particular episode was so painful for me! Please don’t think I’m promoting this practice in any way 🙂 Love on those babies, mamas!

Last night, as I was leaving the church parking lot, baby began screaming his lungs out and just would. Not. Stop. Even after I pulled over to feed him and comfort him, he continued to sob. I made it halfway home before I called my husband – “What do I do? Is there something wrong with him? Can you meet us somewhere?” I felt completely lost and, for the first time in a long time, like an inadequate mommy.

“Turn the music up,” he said. “He’ll be okay. He’s just tired, he’s had a long day. Don’t get anxious, that’ll only make it worse.” So that’s what I did. I listened to him bawl in his carseat, then to his little hiccups as he gave up screaming and his breaths steadied.  My heart rate began coming down, and I started thinking clearly again.

I wonder if this is what God feels like when he listens to me crying it out?

When I considered the last 24 hours, I knew that was exactly right. Yesterday, and the day before that, felt very much like a nightmare.

Things in our marriage had come to a tipping point.  I’ll spare you all of the ugly details, suffice it to say that both my husband and I felt hurt and that things were beyond salvaging.  I wasn’t convinced it was time to give up, and though in my heart things felt hopeless, I held onto this insane conviction that we weren’t brought together to be torn apart. He, on the other hand, was very much ready to walk away.

We went to two counselors yesterday, and at the second appointment, the counselor asked to speak to him alone. I took baby out to the lobby, and we played and giggled and laughed. But the nagging feeling that my future was hanging in the balance swept over me each time I glanced at the clock. An hour passed. An hour and ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Finally, the door opened. We discussed continuing counseling, then returned to the lobby and made separate appointments for ourselves.

I don’t know what was said behind those doors, but when we got out to the parking lot, my husband spoke to me. I don’t even remember what he said to me at that point. I just remember the kindness and compassion in his voice that I’d been longing to hear since the very beginning of us. He had hope again.

Have you ever felt relief in every bone of your body? When baby finally stopped crying last night, I felt it all at once. I’m just so glad that when my life feels like a nightmare, and when I can’t imagine that anything good could possibly come out of the wreckage, and when I can do nothing but cry it out…

God is not inadequate. He knows exactly what I need. He’s walked this earth, and knows exactly how I feel. He’s powerful enough to mend my brokenness. And merciful enough to wrap his healing arms around me.

When I question my faith, and question if my God is truly bigger than THIS, whatever ‘this’ may be, he never fails to amaze me. Yesterday, after my husband and I took a step in the same direction for the first time in, well, what seems like forever, I was overwhelmingly amazed. And relieved. And so, so thankful.