Is that a stretch mark I see?

So I was laying in bed the other day and had an itchy tummy, near my abdomen. So I itched it. Mid itch I remembered.....itchy tummy....preggo...DUN DUN DUN! Stretch mark alert! So I got up (slowly no doubt) and went to the bathroom to check it out. It was very low under my belly so I had to do a weird lift-up-the-baby- check out the situation down there move and low and behold....a stretch mark. I thought I was pretty bad-ass for going this long without getting one, but here it is upon us (me.) Now don't even think about rolling your eyes and saying "Ugh, now she's complaining about stretch marks?! She's pregnant! She needs to get over it!"

 I'm over it. As a matter of fact, I was never really....under it? I have the (un) fortunate blessing of going through the "OMG STRETCH MARKS" ordeal lonnngggg ago when I was a bit of a tubby gal in high school, so I already have them. Getting a few now is definitely not going to be as traumatic as it is for those poor girls who have never had a stretch mark in their life until pregnancy. I just hope my body doesn't get all greedy and think that since I already have some it can go bananas. I don't think so body! But who am I kidding? When in the last 9 months has my body cared what Sara thought? Never. :) 

So anyways, here I am. Creeping up on 35 weeks preggo and I am officially. over. it. I thought I was officially over 10 weeks ago. And 5 weeks ago, I'm sure in 4 weeks I will be like "NO, NOW I AM OFFICIALLY OFFICIALLY OVER IT!" But for now, it's officially official. I crossed some invisible pain/torture/uncomfortable barrier this week. Where everything was going alright, my belly was no doubt making walking, sleeping, etc. a bit harder, but I was dealing with it alright, a big thanks to my chiropractor who was keeping my back, hips and neck in pretty decent shape every week. However, this week, something changed. I believe I have enough collateral information to decide that I think she has dropped, which I'm sure is the culprit. It's like I've turned a corner into the black abyss. I can no longer walk without moaning. I can no longer get off the couch without the hubs pulling me up. I can't sleep. Ever. My back and hips are in such excruciating pain it's amazing. I went to my weekly chiropractor appt on Wed and the only thing he successfully adjusted was my neck. He said everything in my back was too tight. Grrrrrr. He has been my saving grace for a few months and now, the poor sucker is worthless! :) OK, a little dramatic there, my apologies. I stretch, use a heating pad and hot showers like nobody's business. It takes the edge off a bit, but dang peeps! This is crazy! My biggest frustration is most of my pain is in my low back, and I cannot seem to find any stretch that stretches that part. The hubs says touching your toes is the only one he can think of, and if you saw me try to attempt to touch my toes at this point in the game, you would die of hysterics.

So here I am, in what I feel (hope) is the final stretch (no pun intended) of the never-ending pregnancy journey.

~I'm so sorry dear baby girl of mine, but please don't be surprised when mommy is just as excited to see you as she is to not be pregnant anymore. Oh and by the way, you are soooo GROUNDED! Love, Mommy~

"You drank all the milk?!"

Alright now peeps. I imagine some of you know, most of you probably don't, but, my husband, LOVES milk. Loves it. Obviously major cereal eating in the morning, glasses of milk with meals, glasses of milk with snacks, glasses of milk just because, etc. etc.....understand? Now, me, on the other hand, not a big milk kinda gal. Before I was pregnant I was rarely hungry for breakfast so I didn't eat a lot of cereal unless the mood hit me at a weird time, like lunch or for a snack. Drinking milk with a meal was unheard of, so, my milk drinking usually was limited to the occasion cookie or piece of cake.

However, as ol' Bobby Dylan would say, Times....they are a changin'. In fact, times have changed. Changed big. And bad. Soup Nazi? Seinfield? Awwww, yes, we know. Just call me the Milk Nazi. I have officially put strict rules and regulations in place regarding the milk in our household. Just tonight I sternly told my poor husband that milk was off limits to him (since we were running low) until further notice. I MUST eat cereal in the morning. It is my staple pregnancy breakfast.

Usually he likes to drink milk before bed, perhaps bring it to the bedroom, drink it while he messes around on the laptop before bed a little. Nope. Think again buddy. NO SOUP FOR YOU!

If there is not enough milk for me to have a generous helping for my morning cereal, dear husband WILL go to the gas station by our house, whenever I happen to discover the horror of this fact. Usually I don't discover the lack of milk until midnight or so, poor guy.

Before I was pregnant, a gallon wouldn't last TOO long because hubs has always loved milk, but now that two of us are drinking the stuff, keeping an ample supply is rough. We have started to become smart and try to keep two gallons in the fridge at all times. I don't require many things as far as food goes in this pregnancy, but milk and cereal are definitely required. He had a hard time adjusting to sharing the milk at the beginning of this journey, but has adapted. It is now ingrained in his mind that if he does not leave an adequate amount for my needs, bad things happen. Bad bad things.


Anywhos: I don't feel like catching you up on ALL of the preggo factoids this time around as it is a little time consuming and not much has actually changed. However, here are the highlights:

1. I'm a fat @#%. bahahahahahahha. Kidding people, just wanted to get you a little rawled up since I know you hate it when I say things like that.

2. Today we hit 28 weeks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Woohooooo!!! Which starts the 3rd and FINAL trimester, and also starts the every two week OB appts. I'm VERY excited about both of these facts. I'm always look forward to my OB appts, and waiting a month in between them was no fun.

3. With the 28 week mark usually comes the gestational diabetes test. I took mine this morning. Actually, I should say, TRIED to take mine. I drank the orange sugary drink which actually didn't taste as bad as people made it out to be, however, my tummy just didn't feel like having company, so....up it came. I was extremely frustrated with myself as I knew they would just force me to drink it again and again until I kept it down. However, after chatting with my OB he said we could just test my sugar levels at my appts from here on out instead of repeatedly trying to not puke up that junk. So, I opted for that road instead.

4. I was also, of course, weighed at my appt today. Since 24 weeks, I've gained...another 7 pounds. That puts me at....ahemmm....27. *Scream* It's rough to think about, but really, what can I do? I have to eat when I'm hungry. I can walk more, yes. I could eat a little better, yes. Which I am trying to do. But other than that, it is what it is. Let's hope it comes off *fairly* easily after the little miss arrives.....

Can't she be something yummier than an eggplant?

*Sigh.*


I am officially....HUGE. I am not going to say I'm FAT because every time I use the word fat, or tub of lard (hehe) or whatever word that best describes how I'm feeling at the moment, people's first response is..."You aren't FAT! YOU ARE PREGNANT!" Duh people. :) Every time I see myself in the mirror I am shocked. I keep saying..."I didn't know it was going to be like this..." "What is happening to me?!"...."There is no way I can get bigger than this!!"...."How am I supposed to grow for three more months?!" It is frightening. Very very frightening. Like jaw on the ground, how in the helicopter am I suppose to have a 7 POUND CHILD IN THERE?! I AM HUGE ALREADY?! 


I just got back from two weeks visiting friends in family in KS. My lovely friends threw a shower for me and that day while getting ready I had this "I am looking pretty good! Hair is good, makeup good, maternity dress looks cute, I am a cute pregnant lady, woohooooo" attitude. Then I saw the pictures from the shower. O. M. G. My poor little self had a BIG skewed view of what I reallllyyy looked like. :) Like an obese person seeing a skinnier person in the mirror because their mind isn't able to see the real them. It was a sad realization. But, good that I caught the problem early. Now I know that: 


1. Black is a must from here on out. Black leggings, black shirts, and hopefully SOON, black sweaters. 


2. Sleeveless shirts/dresses are off limits. My arms are just too big. I read a pregnancy book about the time in pregnancy when you really just need to put the sleeveless clothes away. Don't be in denial. :) I thought, "Hey! Maybe I'll be one of those hot mami's that only gain weight in their tummy and the rest of their body looks great and slim." Nope. Not even close. 


3. A spray tan would do me good. This is hard to justify to the old hubs because he knows it costs money and doesn't last too long. My response to this is, first of all, SHUT UP! ;) And, I can't work out and be skinny, I can't fake tan in a booth, I can't lay out in the sun, I have limited options in the "Make Sara feel pretty" department. A cute hairstyle and getting your nails done only goes so far. :) A nice little tanned glow would do me good I think.  Being tan also makes you look slimmer, which oh brother I need. Now don't get all excited and think I'm going all Jersey Shore orange tan. Just a very subtle glow. I'm pregnant people, I'm supposed to glow!!! 


One and a half more weeks and we will be 28 weeks and in the third trimester. Have I mentioned that this pregnancy is THE LONGEST 9 (10) MONTHS OF MY LIFE?!?!??! I swear it is never ending. And the big and fat pregnancy uncomfortable-ness has definitely set in. Back pain is insane. Acid reflux came like a beast about a week or so ago.  I am now squatting to pick things up instead of bending over. Jeremy has to give me a little boost to get off the couch. It's just all really surreal to me. He looked at my belly and giggled tonight. I knew what he was thinking. I was thinking the same thing. Where in the heck did that thing come from?! It's funny that when you try to get pregnant, all you think about is the end result: the baby. We want to be parents, we want a child. We didn't think about what happens in between getting pregnant and popping that sucker out. Weeeeirrrrdddd stuff happens. My tummy looks like a grizzly bear's tummy, did I mention that? Is ALL that hair REALLLY necessary? Come on now. 


I could go on and on with all of the really bizarre surreal stuff that has happened, is happening, will happen during this time. PLEASE don't think any of this is complaining. It's just chatting. I don't know how pregnant people aren't talking all the time about all the crazy stuff that happens to them. Am I just ignorant or naive and I should have known? Should I have known that I would turn into a grizzly bear or that I would eat 56 meals a day? Maybe? But I don't think so.  


Once the hubs and I get over the crazy factor of some pregnancy thing, it is usually fun and exciting, we joke about it, he makes fun of me, I make fun of myself, it's fine. :) Besides the back pain, things are going really well. We recently put together our baby furniture, which I LOVEEE, and the smallest office in the world has officially turned into the smallest nursery in the world. Walking by there everyday and seeing her furniture and the growing amount of clothes/supplies, is making the pregnancy MUCH more exciting and real. It is a solid reminder that something big (little) is on the horizon! My goal is to have the nursery complete and decorated by the time Thanksgiving rolls around as my parents are coming down for the holiday and I want it to be a cute as can be surprise for them to see! Here are the latest preggo lady stats:

How far along:  26 Weeks 3 days

Size of baby: She's a eggplant. She's got to be a long eggplant because she kicks her mommy constantly! She is practicing to be a martial artist like her daddy! 

Total Weight Gain:  Oh Lord have mercy. At 24 weeks it was 2o pounds. WHO KNOWS what is it now because I have definitely had a growth spurt since then. I gained 6 pounds between 20 and 24 weeks, I'm really hoping that isn't going to be a pattern! 

Maternity Clothes: I find the belly band built into the jeans and stuff really constricting. I usually wear maternity yoga pants or leggings. 

Gender:  I'm guessing she is still a girl. Let's hope she comes out that way because we are PINK TO THE MAX at the White house!! 

Sleep: I went to the Chiropractor twice while I was in KS by the urging of lots of mommies and mommies to be. I really feel that it has helped a lot with my back pain. However, the chiropractor suggested that I keep going every couple of weeks until baby comes, and sadly, our insurance does not cover the chiropractor. We will see how things go.....   

What I miss: Still not eating chicken. I miss bending over. :) I miss sleeping on my tummy. I miss sleeping without back pain and I miss eating like a normal human being. :) 

Cravings:  Still no super duper  "I will kill you if I don't eat this" craving. 

Symptoms: Back pain and acid reflux are the only bothersome things going on. Being huge is not really a symptom I guess, but I am, huge. 

SHE is on her way!

Here we are again! I thought I would give another little update on the bebe! We are all doing well, I and (more importantly) the little lady are growing like a weed! Everything is going normally and we are moving steadily along. I think time has started to pick up since we found out the sex, time had been just been moving SOOOO slow the first half of the pregnancy, probably because the nausea/vomiting was just making everything seem so miserable and the days lasts for weeks, but after that past for the most part, we began to anxiously await the news of the gender. I know time will sloooowwwww down at the very end again when I'm a whale and want this baby out yesterday, but for now, I'm hoping it starts to pick up. 

Now that we know we are having a girl, I can try to keep busy, setting up the nursery, crafting baby girl stuff, etc. I plan on painting and decorating wooden letters that spell her name (which is being kept secret) :) for her nursery. We registered last week, which was realllyyy fun, not so much for daddy-to-be, but fun for mommy! My lovely Kansas friends are hosting a shower for my in Kansas on Oct.1st, and I believe my mommy-in-law is hosting one in Mississippi for me  in November. How blessed are we?! Hopefully we get a lot of necessities at the showers because geez! Babies need a lot! It's a little daunting when it's your first child and you have NO baby stuff. 

We are still getting used calling her a "her." :) And she is kicking up a storm!!!! It's such an interesting and mesmerizing thing to feel your child kick and wiggle around in there. I THINK we can start feeling her from the outside of my tummy. Yesterday when she was moving I put my hand on my tummy like I always do and I've always only been able to feel my heartbeat (on that big vein that pops up down there) but yesterday I believe I felt her kick from the outside. I'm sure it will get much more obvious in the next few weeks, but it was exciting! :) 

Here is your dose of preggo Sara factoids:

                                                                           How far along:  22 Weeks

Size of baby: So on this baby website it says 22-24 weeks the baby is the size of a papaya. I don't think I know what a papaya looks like. BUT, she is about 1 pound and almost a foot long! 
Total Weight Gain:  About 15 lbs. Rough I know. I'm really hoping to stay under a 35 pound weight gain.  I've been trying to go to the gym and walk and do some light weights but it's hard sometimes when I feel like a fatty and don't want to go anywhere. It's a work in progress! 
Maternity Clothes:  If I'm not wearing my trusty nightgowns or stretchy tank tops and pants, my butt is in maternity clothes. There is no going back now people! 

Gender:  We found out last Friday we are having a GIRLLLLLLLLLL!!!! GET. OUT. OF. TOWN. Do you understand my surprise in this? Really. I had already registered for boy things I was so positive it was a boy. The hubs and my mom, and I, and most people, were calling her a "him" for a few months now. Just because we all thought she was a he! Oh and by the way, that "how fast the heartbeat is" crap is totally lammmmeeeee-oooooo. Her heartbeat never went over like 147 bpm. And girls are supposed to be wayyyy faster than that. 

Sleep:  Getting rough. My back has started to hurt pretty bad in bed. I've slept with a pillow in between my legs since about week 12. But bought a boppy wedge pillow to shove under my belly a few days ago to also help align my back. So far I haven't felt a difference. Boo.   

What I miss: Still not eating chicken. I just can't do it. I try to if that's what someone makes for supper or if that is my only option but it's difficult. I'm not really struggling with much else. Oh, not eating a lot of veggies, they never sound good. Sorry pregnant police. 

Cravings:  Fruit, I eat a lot of fruit. A LOT of grapefruit. It grosses Jeremy out. hehe. Wendy's frostys too really get me excited! 

Symptoms: Getting bigger bigger bigger. Tummy is most definitely looking pregnant now I would say, not just like I ate too much pasta for supper. Nausea has it's moments, but nothing like it used to be and I haven't vomited for 5 weeks. Yay! 

One last thing, I know this blog has turned into a baby-fest since I have been pregnant and has steered away from it's original purpose, to discuss and share my faith journey. I often think of lots of faith related topics I want to bring up on here, but have not done it. Forgive me. Perhaps I should be asking God for forgiveness that I have strayed from a task that I was so passionate about several months ago. I am not past my search or "over it" in anyway, it just has, to be completely and utterly honest, fell off my radar. It stopped being a priority. Yes I said that. I almost stopped myself from typing that because I don't want people or THE Man to know. But, duh, he has known that for months now. He knows. Why do I care who else knows. I feel ashamed in myself, I have stopped reading the Bible. I've stopped asking questions. Instead of searching for God, I need to start searching how to start searching again! If you are reading this and have any good pieces of advice on this topic, please share with me. Thank you dear readers! 

Peace! 

We have landed.

.........in Georgia. *Sigh.* Right off the bat I'd like to complain about what I don't like about Georgia. (Best to go ahead and get the negativity out of the way, right?)   =)

1. The first and most PAINfully obvious reason, it's not Kansas. It's 20 hours from Kansas. Pain. Ful.

2. It's so dang humid. We all know it's humid in the south, duh. But still, what I wouldn't give for a "dry" 100 degree day rather than a humid 90 degrees.

3. Thanks to Mr. Humidity and the evil bug demons, there are mosquitoes out ALL day long. Morning, noon and night. I planted some flowers in some flower pots today in our backyard this afternoon (3 pm) and I couldn't have been outside for more than 20 minutes. I came inside with literally 17 mosquito bites. (I counted.) And these just aren't any mosquitoes, these are huge, juicy, when you slap them blood squirts everywhere type mosquitoes.

4. The produce sucks. I bought a bunch of berries, oranges, etc. thinking that the south has got to have some good produce. Nope. They suck. The fruit is wayyyy better in Kansas. How that makes sense, I have no idea. Side note, I have yet to buy some peaches. I feel as if I buy peaches, which I do like, and they suck, well that will just send me right over the edge and into psycho lady land. It's like getting bad seafood on the coast, it really should just NEVER happen. There is no excuse for it. Georgia IS the PEACH state. If I suffer from peach disappointment, well you just never know what could happen, who could get it. It's dangerous.

5. Our house, which is surprisingly mostly all pleasant, is the home of some MAJOR MASSIVE cockroaches. One just came wiggling out of the wall while I was in the bathroom a little while ago. Seriously, this thing was the size of my fist.....almost. Now, I reckon a house that was built almost 100 years ago is going to have some bug issues, but cockroaches?! Come on. At least give me spiders or something. I can handle spiders.

I believe that is all the complaining I shall do. Our house is cute and is coming together quite nicely. The hardwood floors needed a lot of new area rugs to make the house feel home-y and cozy, which cost a pretty penny, but oh well. Our 3rd bedroom which we were really excited to have is more like a closet, but, it's better than nothing. We are using it as a small office right now and will be transformed into the world's smallest baby room in the next few months. Hopefully the baby isn't claustrophobic. hehe.

....Speaking of baby! Here is your baby update!

How far along:  18 weeks
Size of baby:  Baby White is about the size of a sweet potato! 
Total Weight Gain:  About 10 pounds.  Yes this seems like a big jump from 1 lb at 13 weeks, but at 14 weeks I went to the dr. and it was about 6 lbs. I guess at 13 weeks I hadn't weighed myself for awhile.....
Maternity Clothes:  Yup! Finally gave in and bought some a few weeks ago. I have a pair of shorts and two pairs of flood pants, with a few tops. Haven't worn any of the tops yet.  

Gender:  We find out on Sept. 2nd what this little critter is! I could not be more excited! I can't wait to start shopping! 

Sleep:  Not bad. I go to sleep super early, usually around 10 and sleep until 9 or 10 in the morning. I'm thankful I was never a back sleeper, as you can't do that anymore when you are preggo.  

What I miss: Chicken. :( I have a bad chicken aversion. It's sad really. I miss my chicken friend. We were really close. 

Cravings:  None really. Things sound REALLY good from day to day but nothing that I would kill to have or that has stayed around that long. 

Symptoms: The nausea and vomiting have gotten better. Thank you Jesus. Thank you Jesus! I still get waves of nausea and I feel like throwing up occasionally but my nights are much better these days. Hungry a lot still. 

I feel like I have been pregnant for a year already. Time is going so slow it's ridiculous. I found myself at Joann's (as Hobby Lobby is closed on Sundays) today trying to find a pregnant person hobby. I don't know how to sew or anything of that nature, so that's out. The hubs suggested I try painting, but if my painting skills in Jr. High and High School art class was any indication of my skills now, it's best I stay away from that as well. Perhaps when we find out the sex of the baby I will have a little more to work with. 

Regardless, I don't know anybody here, I'm not working, I have no friends or family to visit with, so my schedule is wide open. Boringly wide. I need to work on that....

The REAL Baby White!

So, *Sigh,* I've finally gotten my butt into gear and made another post to my blog. I have no clue how long it's been, probably 4 months? Eeeeek!!!! Shame on me. My apologies, but, I have an excuse, by the name of BABY!!!! I made a post several months ago about the ol' hubs and I starting to try to have a baby, and now here we are!!! We are SOOOO lucky to not to have waited for very long, took us about 3 months. Even though during the time we were trying the weeks of waiting seemed like MONTHS, and I was worried that it may not work for some reason (I am a worrier.) Once we finally got our positive, I was really surprised and thankful that we were blessed with a baby after hardly anytime at all of trying. All of you mommies or ladies trying to be mommies that struggled or are currently struggling with conceiving, I commend you!!! Your strength is beyond comprehension to me. 

Anywhos, we have gradually told family and close friends over the last several weeks and made the big Facebook reveal about a week ago. I am 13 weeks tomorrow, and this experience has been, to say the least, LIFE ALTERING!!!! My body, seriously, does not belong to me anymore. Most every body part does not function like it used to pre-baby. When you take a step back, it really is incredible and amazing. When you are the one living it, IT'S CRAZYYYYYYYY!!! Part of the reason why I haven't been blogging is because I always used to blog late at night after Jeremy went to bed. Well, at night, Sara is a zombie. Literally, I am a walking dead person. Usually, though, I am not walking. I am a laying down, whining, crying, this-nausea-shall-be-the-death-of-me person. Now listen people, please don't take my "complaining" as a sign that I am in ANYYY WAYYYY ungrateful for the wonderful blessing God has given us. Take it as a lady who is struggling and finds comfort in sharing her experiences with others in hopes to get some good feedback. (That's why I did this whole blog thing from the beginning, remember? I'm a sharing kind of gal, it makes what I'm going through easier to handle.) 

Anyways, right when I got pregnant I bought THE book, we all know what it is, and read up on the internet. I read that you are more prone to morning sickness if you get severe motion sickness, from flying, driving, etc. RED FLAG. I am the queen of car sickness. So, I was concerned. About week 6 is when it hit. First sign of it was when I was taking a shower and suddenly felt like I needed to vomit and had to sit down in the shower. It was quick, went away, but I knew, uh oh, here it comes. Fast forward 7 weeks later, I am still, struggling. I've tried preggie pops, sea bands, my Dr even gave my a Rx for nausea and vomiting for chemo patients (Zofran) and nothing works. The Zofran is successful in keeping the vomiting at bay, but not the nausea. This nausea is like car sickness jacked up on steroids or something. It's insane. God bless my poor husband for all the torture he's endured from taking care of me each and every night for the last 7 weeks.(My sickness is at night, I feel fine during the morning/early daytime) I am praying and hoping and begging the good Lord above to ease this nausea now that my 1st trimester is over. Dang it's been difficult. 

However, I am coping better than I was 4 weeks ago. Coping better probably because I feel that I am towards the end of it and most likely relief is on it's way. Week 8-10 or so, no way. Game over. I didn't think I was going to make it. But here we are, week 13. A milestone! No more 1st trimester! Everyone says the 2nd is wonderful and I can't wait!!! I can't wait to start feeling the little guy or gal moving and kicking! It's going to be wild, I can just imagine! 

I do have a bit of a belly already. Dang it Sara for not working more on those ab muscles! LOL! I could have kept the thing under wraps a little longer. Don't get me wrong, I'm super excited for a baby belly, but what I have now looks just like I'm a tubbo who had a big supper. :) I'm afraid people look at my when I'm in public and are like, "wow, sister needs to work on her cardio!" I just want to tell everyone that I'm pregnant, not fat. Oh well. :) I know I need to start taking belly pics, but I NEVER do my hair or makeup anymore and look like crap most of the time, so I'm trying to wait for a day where I actually look like a human. :) I'm thinking we will try to take the first one tomorrow. 

For those of you interested, here are some baby/mama highlights so far!!!

Pregnancy Highlights:

How far along:  13 weeks
Size of baby:  Baby White is about the size of a peach!!! (Appropriate I suppose since we are moving to Georgia next week)
Total Weight Gain:  About 1 pound. 
Maternity Clothes:  None. All I've been wearing are stretchy pants/shorts and t-shirts or dresses. 

Gender:  I took a sketchy gender predictor urine test they sell at drug stores for fun, and it said a boy. However, I am not putting much stock into and the hubs is putting absolutely NO stock into it. He was annoyed I even bought it. hehehe. :) 

Sleep:  It's hard to fall asleep since I feel like vomiting constantly, but sleeping has been ok so far. 

What I miss: Watching the food network :( Not possible when I feel sick. I don't miss caffeine since I didn't drink much pop and never drank coffee before baby. 

Cravings:  None really. It's more like, what foods are tolerable at the moment. That's basically starches. A lot of breads (Pizza, breadsticks, pb sandwiches) and potatoes. I eat a lot of fruit too.

Symptoms: Tiredness, not like sleepy tired though. Like, I can hardly walk in Target for 15 minutes tired, NAUSEA, and a lot of food aversions like chicken and veggies.

Like I had mentioned above, the inevitable move to Georgia is finally upon us. I am extremely sad to be leaving my family, especially my mommy. However, I am coming back to KS in two months,and then she and my step-dad are coming down for Thanksgiving and she will be back again for baby's arrival. I am so sad that I won't be able to share all my pregnancy issues with her first hand and that she won't be able to come to my doctor's appt's and see my growing belly. However, I suppose I knew this would come when I married an Army officer so I need to figure it out. The upside is, we will only be a few hours from Jeremy's family and I know they are very excited to share our pregnancy experiences with us. So, at least I won't be completely family-less! 

That is all for now! I have gone on way to long as it is!!! Keep reading for the next Baby White installment! 

Dinner Impossible (With a baby)

OK, so this blog has mostly been about my Faith, but today, I will be taking a (slight?) detour on this road. Be forewarned, there is a signifcant amount of judging in this blog, perhaps warranted, perhaps not. (However, on the God note, is judging ever warranted? Besides from the big Man upstairs?)  Anywhos, regardless, it's in here, so you have been warned.  Proceed with caution.

Let's rewind about 6 hours. The hubs has been a boo hooin' allll weekend to go see this dang movie, "Thor." I can't watch movies in the theater, I just don't care to be there, it's a rough go for me and I usually manage to wiggle my way out of it. However, he has been in the field all week and only gets a few days at home this month, so he guilted me in to going. In exchange for sitting in this (not so bad in the end) movie, I made him take me to dinner first.

Scene: Parking lot of Famous Daves. We get out of the car and first thing I see a is gentelman yelling at his baby. He was holding his baby (yes, BABY) and yelling in it's ear "STOP IT! BE QUIET...NOW!" Once he saw us he stopped. (Shocker) I motioned Jeremy to peek his head back into the car, and I proceeded to say, "DID YOU SEE THAT GUY?! HE'S SCREAMING AT HIS BABY!" Then I acted out, all tough like, what I was going to say to said guy about being a social worker and a mandated reporter. He begged me not to say anything and I settled for a big long glare. (Let me state, for the record, that child protection (and maybe most people) would not consider what I just watched abuse, and I may be a little more sensitive to these situations, so I did not report.)

We went inside, sat at out table, when the guy brought his baby back inside and lucky me, sat right in front of us. So, I had a front row seat to the upcoming shit show (pardon me) while Jeremy had his back to whole thing. Commence an hour or so of Sara saying "Turn around and look at this!" "I can't stop looking!" "This is infuriating!!" And Jeremy of course, not turning around and telling me to stop staring.

What I watched, was a very very oh so very ignorant mother and father "parent" their child. By this time, dad had taken a back seat and mama was driving this thing. Their son, who could not be more than 12 months old, if that, was sitting in a high chair, "eating" a whole meal that looked to be for an adult. He had a fork and was trying to mess with his food. Mommy rolled her eyes and told him to STOP very sturnly when this BABY could not eat his ADULT meal properly. When the BABY looked over at a near by table, mommy started snapping her fingers in front of his face and yelled at him to quite looking at them. *Sighhhh*

I couldn't take my eyes off of them. I was very angry. A classic case of of an ignorant parent, who knows nothing about being a parent, expecting their child to act a way that, developmentally, that child can NOT act or does not know HOW to act. When the baby doens't act the way mommy and daddy THINKS it should, baby is punished.

Mommy went on to "cry" at the table. Now I know I am being harsh, I don't know these people, but I've just watch them be completely inappropriate parents for 30 minutes. So mom was "crying." I call it "crying" because he face did get really red but no tears or anything, and she NOT so subtly kept looking around to see if anyone could see her crying.

After her woes of being a crappy ass parent brought her to "tears" her baby got up in his high chair. Mommy started in on him which made him cry. Mommy then forced him to sit back down and belted him in...then gave baby a "take that you piece of shit" (sorry I'm rawled up) nasty horrible glare. (Seriously, it was hurtful for me to even watch it.) Now I'm ok with strapping your baby in the high chair, but they were done eating, getting ready to leave. Presumbably baby just wanted to be held, a little love. Nope. In the hour I sat there and watched this, baby received no love. No touch. No smiles. He got glared at, and yelled at, and ignored.

Yes, I may be a overly sensitive social worker. Yes, babies can sometimes be extremelyyyy unrulely and drive you to tears out of shear frustration. But this really wasn't the case. I promise.

To top it all off! Yes, there is more! At the end of their meal their waiter brings them out a "comlimentary dessert." I'm guessing to comfort poor mommy of her horrible dinner experience with PSYCHO BABY! (Yes, I was listening as well as watching, sue me.)

Great. So now we are rewarding ignorant witless parents. Lovely.


Judgment Over.

All Along The Watchtower.....

So sue me. I haven't been blogging. It's been like...ahem...3 WEEKS! I haven't forgot you old dear blog....
 :( I just...don't have anything to say. It's sad since I tend to have A LOT to say, but usually it's nothing to go out and tell the world about. This blog was mainly started to talk about my journey with my faith, and I finally started doing it when my mom was diagnosed with cancer. The blog then was fueled by my reading of the Old Testament, and the things I was thinking, feeling, experiencing while reading it. Well, brace yourself, I've stopped reading it.

Don't get mad! It's not permanent, it's not even intentional, I just haven't been doing it. I think I got burned out. I was reading up to a book a night. Which is a lot, at least to me. I think the issue started when I got to Psalms. *Pausing for gasp.* Yes, I know everyone loves the Psalms. Why would she ever have a problem with them?!?!?

 OK, the problem with Psalms is, it's very very very long. Like 150 Chapters long. Another problem is, I'm reading the contemporary version of The Bible, "The Message." It is GREAT! Don't get me wrong, it's doing all the things I'm needing it to do. It's explaining and telling me the story of God, Jesus, Faith, Love in a very easy was for me to read and understand. However, the romance, the fancy word plays, the beautiful rhyme and rhythm of the more traditional forms of the Bible is missing. Like one of the most famous verses in the Bible, In Psalms, "The Lord is My Shepherd, I Shall Not Want...." is translated into The Message version, as..."God, my Shepherd! I don't need a thing!" As you can see...the second version is lacking. The thing I love about The Message is the thing I dislike most about it. It took me alonggggg time to get through Psalms for that reason, it didn't move me, it didn't bring back all the times people have quoted, sang, preached, the Psalms, because it wasn't there. The verses were stripped. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't nastaglic.

I understand this, and I respect it. The Message has a specific purpose, to let us read the Bible in a way that people can easily understand the concepts and the stories. It does take away the magic, which is why it took me so long to get through Psalms, because Psalms are all prayers and songs. Prayers and songs stripped of their romance and magic are not prayers and songs at all. So, my awesome Bible reading machine stalled. Pretty bad actually. I FINALLY got through Psalms a few weeks ago and have started Proverbs, which is better. But, since the night I started reading Proverbs and got about half way through it, was the last time I have read it.

I don't have any excuse, my life isn't busy, things with my mom are much better, I've just lost my enthusiasm and motivation. Dang that Old Testament is long!!!! 

However, I will get through it. I'm just looking and waiting for a kick in the butt from the enthusiasm monster.

P.S. About my title....NOTHING to do with my current blog, I was going to blog about Battlestar Galactica (if you haven't seen it, it won't make sense.) Don't laugh at the Battlestar Galactica future blog. This show is/was amazing and has so many ideas and messages about God and humanity and what we are doing to ourselves that it is DEFINITELY worthy of the next blog. Sooooo, stay tuned!

Let Go (Let God?)

Dang! If that title of a blog doesn't catch your attention, I don't know what will! I didn't title this blog, however, for it's eye-catching appeal, I titled it this simply because I'm heading there. When I hear this somewhat cheesy phrase, "Let Go, Let God," I think a few things, "UGH THAT IS SO CHEESY..." is a big one, we know, another one would be, sounds like someone is trying to tell me to surrender. Surrender to what? Surrender to who? God, I would imagine....

From writing all these blogs and having all these "what ifs" about faith come in and out of my brain ALL THE TIME, recently I find myself wondering if I should just let go. I'm slowly (don't get too excited yet) starting to believe that God is around. I've talked about before if the miraculous things that have happened with my mom's cancer is God shaking me and saying, pardon my french, "Wake up dumbass!" "You asked for proof, you asked for a sign, here it is!" I speculated, hoped, wished that that was the case, but deep down didn't really think that's what was going on. Lately, however, perhaps it is. Why not? Why couldn't it be?

Recently letting go sounds like something I would very much enjoy. Let go. Let God. Perhaps I should surrender this fight I am having with my faith. Give up. Stop fighting it so darn much! Let it go. Let IT happen. Let God show me. Open my eyes and ears and listen.

Now don't get all excited, I'm no cured doubter I don't think, but a small barrier has come down. Fighting what may be the truth is not really what I'm interested in doing anymore. I've never been a person to say that God and his works are a "no-way," however, I have had a mucho hard time saying it is a "yes-way."

Why do I fight it so? What would be so bad about having a big ol' daddio-type figure watching out for me and my peeps? Why would it be horrible to have a light guiding my path, someone to talk to, someone to reach for, someone to lean on?

 Perhaps I doubt because of me, not because of God. Not because of what God is or isn't, but because what I would be or not be. If I believe and turn out to be wrong, I look like a big fat idiot. Naive, ignorant, immature to real life and it's ways. My failures and sadness and lose would be because of me, not because God was looking out and had a better plan for me or the ones I loved. I guess I just don't want to look stupid. I don't want to be conned.

Never-the-less, (sorry for straying, maybe, there for a bit) I am letting go.....a little. I am letting God... a little. I'm saying, "Hmmmmm, nice move, God. Interesting strategy with the whole gonna-beat-the-crap-outta-this-cancer-and-make-it-look-like nothing routine. What else ya got?"

New one? Not so much.....

So I've been thinking I need/want to post a new blog. But not much about my faith and my God-journey has been on my mind except what I blogged about most recently. Prayer. Not just prayer, but the power of prayer. What it does. What God does.

We all know that prayer usually has two purposes: to say to God, "Pretty Please" or "Thanks Man!" I try to say thanks more than I say please...well...just because. It seems like the right thing to do, right? Jeremy and I pray before every meal, something my family never did when I was growing up, with the exception of Thanksgiving. I don't like to be the one in charge of the praying because I'm not sure what to say, I'm worried if I'll sound stupid in front of Jeremy and think that I could never pray as well as him. I'm taking baby steps with the out loud dinner praying. Presently, I'm only in charge of dinner-praying when we eat out at Valentino's, my fav. guilty pleasure Italian buffet. However, since it's my fav. we go there about once a week.

When he and I both pray, we always first thank God for our meal. Jeremy does it because he believes God provides us with all our food, I Thank God for our food because that's what Jeremy does. :)

God didn't make that pizza for me, he didn't made the dough, cook the tomatoes, brown the meat. He didn't even grow the vegetables on his farm. Yes, some of you may say, OH YES HE DID! HE GAVE US THIS EARTH TO GROW FOOD!....Whatever. Why I am not thanking God for Earth before breakfast then, instead of for my pancakes?

All this babbling comes down to a few small thoughts: The reason why I am on this journey; seeking, asking, studying, reading, is because I want to KNOW why I believe what I do, I want proof, I want reasons behind it, I don't want to praise God because that's the norm, or because I'm afraid to go to hell or afraid to do anything else, I want to praise God because I have learned about God and talked to Christians and decided that's what I believe.

That's my little issue with prayer: I don't want to pray just because that's what good Christian people do. I want to KNOW why I pray. I want to KNOW why I thank God for things that God may not give me, directly, indirectly, in any way.

I imagine that my asking this question is becoming a bit redundant, my apologies. I suppose I am just not hearing or seeing or finding a sufficient answer to my questions. Yet.

How do I know?

Ever since we found out that my mom had a tumor in her lung the massive amount of prayers began. From me, my husband, immediate family, extended family, friends and people that have never met my amazing mother.

We were hoping for the best but preparing and thinking about the worst. It's hard not to think of the worst when symptoms she was having (chest pains) usually are indicative of late stage lung cancer. Assuming because if your tumor is big and bad enough to cause you to have chest pains, it's bad news. This was verified by the research I have done online saying chest pains are signs of late stage cancer. With this, and the fact that during the first meeting with her oncologist, he was worried her lung fluid might have cancer, which would put her in stage 3-B, pretty much a death sentence....it is safe to say we were terrified.

So, we prayed. Everyone did. I made several facebook and email requests for everyone and their dog to pray for her and our family. Good news! We need good news! We prayed for a small tumor. We prayed for an early stage. We prayed for no spreading. We prayed surgery could remove it and cure her. We prayed for the doctors and the nurses to take care of her. We prayed her heart was healthy enough to handle removing her tumor and we prayed for a successful surgery and recovery. So far, against ALL odds, all of our prayers have come true. (Lung cancer is the number one of cancer deaths and the has the second worse prognosis after pancreatic.)

Since I am on this Faith-journey, prayer has been a central part of my life, so has the question of prayer. I desperately want to believe that all of our prayers to God has helped him help her. But a part of me wonders if we just got lucky. I know this is a conversation we all have, I had it a little while ago in a blog as a matter of fact. I feel like if I attribute this amazing news to God, I'm being naive.

Maybe us getting such great news time after time is God trying to shake me saying, "Sara! Look! I'm trying to show you! I'm trying to prove to you! Open your eyes and pay attention! You ask all the time to see me and know me and want a sign that I am here and listening, here it is!" But how do I know?

Flash forward....

So, my mom has cancer. Yeah, you know that. Well, a week ago today, she had major surgery to remove part of her lung that her cancer was at. I've spent the last week, seven days, taking care of her. I would be at the hospital the majority of the time, with my step-dad coming to relieve me for some time during the day. I knew I would be the one taking care of her, but I think she and I both were surprised by the amount of work recovery would be. She was in the hospital from last Wednesday until Monday and then came to my house until this afternoon for me to care for her. While I woke up in the middle of the night to check on her, helped her to the bathroom, helped her shower, made her tea, cooked her soup, I couldn't help but wonder if this was a picture of what was to come.

I am my mom's only daughter, and as her only daughter it is assumed that I will be the primary caretaker of her and my step-father as they age and need assistance. I am honored to be the one to care for them. Honestly, I would be jealous and angry if anyone else tried to take that job away from me. No one knows my mom like I do, and with that said I don't believe anyone can take care of her like I can. However, with the tiny glimpse I've had this week with her pretty much needing me for every little thing she did, It's fair to say I've had the shizzz scared out of me. It is hard. And when I say hard I mean HARD. It is low down dirty frustrated teary-eyed nasty no-sleep hard. I did not want my mom to go back to her house today because I worry my step-dad won't give her enough attention, or be gentle enough or patient enough like I can be, but on the other hand, when she walked out the door I found myself wanting to do a happy dance and jump for joy. That makes me feel guilty.

I can deal with the cooking of the soup and the oatmeal and the hot tea. I can deal with the middle of the night calls to get help to the bathroom or more water. I can not deal with my mom being dependent. My mom is the epitome of independence. And for that to change, is scary. I have ran to my mom for everything in my life, depending on her shoulder, her advice, her care, and I do not want to be my mother's mother.

If I become my mother's mother, then I feel I no longer have a mother. And I need her. I hope the time when I need to be her permanent care giver is wayyyyy off into the future. So far off that I'll need MY daughter to care for the both of us, because I'll be so old right along with her. Ahhhh, that would be nice.....

Ahhh hemm...Excuse me...

I just wanted to clarify a few things about my last blog. I talked about my husband in it, which I tend to do, because he is my husband, get over it. (hehe) I mentioned him having a sort of unwavering faith. He decided, "This is what I believe, The end." That IS kind of what happened, but not exactly.

I wanted to clarify this as after I wrote the blog and published it, I thought I may have made him seem like he knows nothing about God and just decided he was going to believe this thing existed and doesn't know how or why. It made him sound sort of ignorant, something he is definitely not. Especially regarding his faith. My suspicions of me perhaps painting him in an ignorant light were confirmed when he mentioned the same thing to me after he read it.

I most certainly am not writing this blog to "bail him out" or make excuses for him. I'm discussing this because this blog is a lot about my journey to faith, God, etc. And the person who I discuss most of my journey with, is of course, my husband. I bounce things off of him, I tell him the crazy stuff I dream about, the stories I'm reading in the bible, we pray together, etc. So, it's important that people reading my blog don't think he's a crazy ignorant dummy :) One of the reasons why he is the main source of feedback regarding this journey I am on, is because he has also been there. It was a different one of course, and he got to the finish line perhaps a little faster and easier than I did, but he ran the race....Errhhmmm, scratch that, marathon. His journey was mostly in high school, going to youth group, reading the bible and knowing in his heart that what he read was the truth and that God was his God. He continued his studies and faith in college and is a great source of knowledge about Christianity for me. It's pretty fair to say that I wouldn't be on this journey if it wasn't for him, a few other close friends moved me along as well, but I don't think I would have wanted to figure it out for myself as bad if I didn't have a husband to aspire to be like. His faith is unwavering and strong and unmovable, not because he was told to do it or to follow a crowd, he was simply following his heart.

The end.

By the way, I'm eating a bag of starbursts and there is an unusual amount of reds ( my favorite) in here. Amazinggggggggg.

A Leap of Faith

I read an amazing book over the summer called "O Me of Little Faith." It's written by a Christian man that is a self-proclaimed doubter. He talks a lot about how you can be a God-loving Christian and still think sometimes..."Uhhh, can that really happen?" or..."That seems a little hard to believe..." This book changed my life. It made it OK for me to be on this road and have questions. It didn't mean I was a non-believer or not-worthy, it meant that I doubt. Sometimes more so than not, and that is OK. Whenever I chat to other doubters or people on the journey that I am on, I have been referring this book, it truly is amazing.

Something that the author, Jason Boyett
(Check out his website here: http://blog.beliefnet.com/omeoflittlefaith/ ) talks about is taking a Leap of Faith and what that means. His discussion of this was a major light bulb moment for me. He discussed why this such amazing thing is called a LEAP of faith. Have you ever thought about that? Why a LEAP?! Faith is rough. Faith means you believe in something that you can't see, that you can't really prove. Some people can have faith pretty easily, like my husband. He decided in high school, I believe this, the end. Most of the time when I bring up hard questions that sometimes don't make sense regarding Christianity, and want proof, or an explanation, he doesn't usually give it. Why not? Because he has never thought about proof or an explanation. Because he doesn't need it. I'll ask "Why do you believe that?" His answer usually is..."I just do." Oh, OK, great, thanks for the help, buddy! My dear husband has faith. Unwavering faith. He believes. No doubt. Some people, yours truly included, aren't so lucky.

We are the leapers. If we ever find a way to LEAP on over there to that aawweeeeeeesome thing, faith, we gotta leap. Ain't no strolling or skipping or leisurely walk. We are LEAPING HERE PEOPLE! What do you imagine when you here the word "leap." I imagine someone getting a longgg head start run, kind of like a long-jumper, running running running hard and fast and then taking the biggest hardest jump their body can musters. That's a leap to me.

Sounds about right.

Faith to me is this ridiculously hard long-jumper leap. Not a Stroll of Faith, or a Little Jump of Faith.

Most of the time I yearn to be like my husband, one of those people that can stroll on over to faith, no problem, no leap needed. But sometimes, I think to myself, maybe leaping can be a good thing. If I was able to believe so easily, I wouldn't be learning the things I am, I wouldn't be forming the relationships I have been, I wouldn't ask questions all the time and I wouldn't push myself harder and harder to KNOW God the way I need to.

Guess I better start practicing my leaps.

Attention: All God-fearing people!

Before I read the Bible and started reading and talking about this faith journey I'm on, I never understood why people would define themselves as a "God Fearing Man." Or woman for that matter. They always described themselves in this manner when talking about how they were faithful Christians and lived a God-centered life. So I was confused. God was our father. God was papa, he loved us and blessed us and looked after us and we are his children. Why are we fearing him? I don't fear my mother that loves me and takes care of me. The only reason I would fear God was if I didn't believe in him or if I was a crazy-pants sinner. Why would good Christians be proud that they were "God-fearing?" These were my thoughts before I read the bible.

Now that I have read the New Testament and am a good way into the Old Testament, I understand this. God is scary!!! I hope I don't get negative points in the Sara-going-to-heaven checklist book for saying that and saying the things to come....But come on!

OK wait, first let me say, I really should have read the Old Testament before the New, I would have understand the New alot better if I had read the Old first. So, now after I read the Old, I'm going back to read the New again, because the God I am getting to know in the Old, is much different than the one I got to know in the New.

Back to what I am finding out reading the Old...(still hoping I don't get negative points here)...God is a bit like a women during THAT time of the month. He seems to be very temperamental, unpredictable, scary and sometimes...dare I say it, cruel and unfair. He killed people for the sins of their ancestors, was quick to make deadly decisions and had no problem taking our millions of people because they did not worship him. I have made it to the book of Ruth so far in the Old Testament, and I'll tell you, reading up to Ruth has been rough. It is said many a times, God is a jealous God. YA THINK?!?!?! He certainly is. God also says many times, Fear Me. I am God, fear God. I asked my husband why we should fear God, and he thinks fear used in that way means Respect. OK, well I can respect God, and that sounds a lot nicer....but if it's supposed to mean Respect, why doesn't it say respect. I have a feeling it means Fear, and we should Fear.

God did a lot of things that I do not understand and that I feel bad about. I especially feel bad for Moses. Moses worked his butt off! He put up with the Israelites that were acting like toddlers, not listening, giving him a hard time, had all that pressure of being the sole person between all of the Israelites and God, and God would not let him join the Israelites in the Promised Land just because he made a little (in my eyes) mistake.

God does show a lot of mercy and a lot of forgiveness in the Bible, as well. Even though he is harsh, he also says if you ask for forgiveness, I will forgive you, and he does every time. Why couldn't he have been merciful with Moses. If ANYBODY deserved that stinkin' Promised Land it was Moses.

I feel like the Israelites were learning, toddlers like I am in the school of God and Faith, and they weren't given any wiggle room. They weren't given any chance to fail and try again. This really hits home for me because I am just like the Israelites. I am learning, I feel the need to test God, I don't have all my faith ducks in a row. I desperately need mercy, I need God to allow me to make mistakes and falter in my faith and allow me to get back up and dust myself off and keep going on my journey without being damned.  Maybe I am wrong, maybe I am seeing things the wrong way, but all I can say is, THANK GOD FOR JESUS!!!!

Baby White

Don't get excited. No Baby White yet. However, we are on the road. I figured I've been way to sad and depressed in all of my blogs since I have started this ol' thing, and I certainly don't want to consume my life with those thoughts. I haven't been thinking negatively since we have gotten good news regarding the "C," so I think my blog should be happy too! So, a side-step to chatting about our fun new journey!

Much debate has filled the White household these days. We both want a baby, just the time of such a bundle of joy is up in the air. Multiple things hinder us from making a decision, the "C" and the "A." hehe. The "A" being the other unstable thing in our life, the ARMY! We have been supposed to move for a few months now, we are hoping since my mom is sick we can push back that move a little further still so I can be close to her as long as possible. Also, we are trying to get into law school. Being in law school whould be a much more stable environment for me to be pregnant in, instead of the "who knows when we'll deploy" environment.Anyways...

I have major baby fever. I've been taking prenatal vitamins for about a month now and have very recently gotten off my birth control. That has been the biggest, and most frightening thing so far! I've had my old friend, BC for many-a-years now and it feels very strange to be....exposed? That's not even the right word. Maybe it is, birth control has always given me a sense of protection, as it should...and now that it's gone. I feel like I could be attacked at any moment! HA!

So many great friends have just had a baby, or are pregnant or just getting pregnant. Obviously, my desires for a child are deeper than wanted to keep up with the Jones', but seeing them with their beautiful children make me more and more antsy. Being faced with my mother's mortality also has me wanting a child more than before. When we first found out, one of my biggest heartbreaks was the thought that my mom may never know a child of mine. She is such an amazing mom, and even more amazing grandma, or Mimi in her case, I would be devestated if my children never knew her love.

So, without getting into the gory details, reproducing is definitely on our to-do list. I will most definitely keep all interested in the loop. Here's to baby making!

Money Money Money

So, ever since this "C" has been around, my whole family, mainly my mom and I, have taken a gander at the ol' World Wide Web. Bad idea....bad bad bad idea. It tells you things like the average survival rate for lung cancer victims is 16 percent. It tells you that most people with later stage cancer die within a year. Stuff I was not prepared for. Things you don't think you have to face in 2011. I know a lot of people, or children of people that have breast cancer. None of them have died. Pink pink pink, wear your pink, pink ribbons, pink t-shirts, marathons for pink people! Everyone knows what month is breast cancer awareness month, everyone know that a pink ribbon means breast cancer.

Do you know what color is assigned to lung cancer?

Come on...you can do it...think about it...

Didn't think so. It's white. I'm not going to lie. I knew pink was the color for breast cancer, I didn't know white was the color for lung cancer. I figured it out the night we found out about the big "C." I went online and in a terrible crying spell, spent a lot of money on WHITE stuff. White car magnets, white bracelets, white t-shirts and the list goes on. It was after this I found on another wesbite the HORRIBLE statistics that go along with lung cancer.

Did you know that lung cancer has the second worst survival rate after pancreatic cancer? Did you know lung cancer kills more people than breast, prostate, colon and pancreatic COMBINED? I didn't either.

Lung cancer has a five year survival rate of 16%. Breast cancer, however, has a 5 year survival rate of 88%. Prostate has a 5 year survival rate of 99%.

Why? WHY?! Money.

Annually, the funding for breast cancer is more than $27,000 per victim. It is less than $1,200 for a lung cancer victim. I am angry. I am very angry. I think a lot of this disconnect has to do with blame. Breast cancer victims didn't do anything to deserve their cancer, they are victims. Lung cancer victims deserve their cancer, they smoked, they brought it on themselves, why raise money for people who did this to themselves. Right?

Wrong. My mom did not do THIS to herself. She is not a chronic smoker, never has been. She does not have bad lungs. She does NOT deserve this. And with that said, smokers, who make up 90% of lung cancer victims, do not deserve this either. They deserve no chance? They deserve no one speaking for them? No one wearing a white ribbon or sporting a white t-shirt while running a race?

I disagree. So, I've order a large amount of white bracelets and will be passing them out. I will wear mine everyday. I will wear my t-shirt and place my ribbon magnet on my car.

"If not us, who? If not now, when?"

Don't let your praying knees get lazy

I don't pray on my knees. Do you? Does anybody? Knee praying seems mostly reserved for little blonde-haired girls before bed and after story time. Most of my prayers take place driving in my car or laying in bed. I never speak my prayers out loud unless it is prayer before a meal....or a quickie, for example, "Lord help me get through this." Sometimes I think praying to God only in my head is jipping Him, like I'm being lazy and am not speaking aloud to Him. However, my buddy, Sarah S., would tell me, "God just wants you to talk to him, he doesn't care how." I think I agree with that.

I wanted to talk about prayer in this blog because I have been praying A LOT lately, as you know my mom has been diagnosed with the big C(still not willing to say the word, so sue me,) Also because I have been asking, begging rather, for others, anyone, everyone to pray for her as well.

There are two REALLY big questions about God and my faith that boggle my brain more than any other, and that I bug my husband endlessly to give me better answers to than what he is able to give so far. Shame on him right? Just kidding. The two questions are THIS: Why are we supposed to pray. What does it do? AND, Has God PLANNED out my entire life, so that I do what he has set into order from Day One, or does he just KNOW my entire life, and sits back and watches it play out? These are my big two questions. Both questions are very much intertwined. If God has my life planned out, what's the point of praying? The big Man upstairs already said, "This is what's up, homies." If God does NOT have my life planned, and does not control what I do, What ALSO is the point of praying? Get what I'm saying? If my life is my choice, God does not control my decisions, then why pray for His intervene? That goes against what He does. If I could get someone, anyone, to answers these questions, I'd be good to go brother! Mostly when I ask people, like my husband, the answer is very vague and "fluffy" as I like to call it. "I don't know, that's a good question." or, "God can do anything." My husband thinks God made us to self-determine our lives, he gives us free will to make our own decisions. However, my husband also thinks God can intervene if He wants to. If you ask me, a toddler in God-school, I think that's crap! I need a answer that is ALWAYS the answer. Not, sometimes He does this, sometimes He doesn't.

We got really good news (so far) regarding what stage my mom's cancer is in. I have never prayed so hard in my life for this, and I know a lot of friends and family has prayed passionately and intensely for the same thing. Did God decide to bless her with an early stage, because he controls our life? Or did we just get lucky, because God does not interfere, just watches.

Am I praying because God will change the results, or simply to give my comfort that perhaps He COULD change the results. It's hard for me to understand the "It's God's will" or in "God's plan" stuff. What kind of "plan" involves my mom's demise? I'm sure plenty of God lovers in the past have gathered all their God-loving friends and prayed HARD for a loved-one"s sickness, but got bad news. If my prayers were "answered" why weren't theirs? Saying it's God's will insinuates that this is the course of God's plan and he has decided it in advance. Why pray then?

Funny, the next thought that popped up in my brain just now....

...maybe I should pray about it.

Start your engines....

Today was the official start to testing for this..."thing." I have a really hard time saying the "C" word. Doesn't everybody know that if you don't say the word it doesn't exist? Or am I the only one in on that very convenient secret. Today we had a CT scan and Pulmonary Function Test. My mom is not a weak person, and to see her in vulnerable position, uncomfortable, having to do things she is unsure about, tears my heart out. I don't want to see my strong mother being vulnerable and unsure. I want her to be her. The her she has always been for me. Things are changing so fast I don't know what's going on anymore. I'm having to "be" for my mom, instead of her having to "be" for me. I knew this would come, I'm not completely ignorant to the circle of life people, but now? She is only 55, I am only 25. I'm not ready to be for her yet. I still need her to be for me. When I've been crying and breaking down and need someone to talk to about the C word, I can no longer run to my go-to gal. I desperately do NOT want to be the go-to gal for her. My heart can't take it. I know being for her will most likely be the most important job I will ever do in my entire life, that and maybe being a mother. I am proud that she wants me to be the one, that does not make it any easier.

Tomorrow we find out the results of the CT scan. Pretty much, if the C has spread anywhere other than her lung. If it has, later stages will be labeled and very very very poor prognosis will be given. You know on movies, or perhaps in life when people say to God, "Oh God, if you do this one thing, Lord, I PROMISE, I will do....." Go to church every Sunday, quit drinking, etc. I find myself wanting to have this little chat with God.

I've never had a situation in my life yet where I would say, "God, please take me instead, let the bad thing happen to me." I guess that's a good thing. Now I do. I so wish I could have this cancer and she wouldn't. For so many reasons. I don't want her to hurt, I don't want her to cry. I don't want her to be vulnerable and have to go through all this medical stuff. I would take it in a heart beat, I don't have any children that would miss me, I wouldn't have to cry everyday,  I wouldn't have to torture myself over thoughts of life without her.

Faith? Yes Please.

So, here I am. I've finally decided to start blogging. I've been wanting to for awhile now, but thanks to my husband's chagrin, I postponed my blogging. "Only hippies blog!!??" He says. Oh well. Here goes nothing.

Blogging is like a "dear diary" of sorts, eh? Funny when we are young we put little locks on our diaries, hide them under our beds, keep them away from big brothers and moms, even best friends, mortified at the THOUGHT that someone would actually open the thing up and read it. A rare look into our deepest thoughts and secrets, death by embarrassment would surely come upon us if someone got their hands on it. However, "dear diary" is now, "dear entire whole huge gigantic cyber world of billions of people." Hmm. That's different.

Different as it may be, I need this. When I first started to think about blogging, my main focus was going to be on my journey to find God. I compare myself to a grade-schooler, eh, maybe a kindergartner in the school of Christianity, God, Faith, etc. Sometimes I get really good grades, definitely something really cool to put on the fridge door and brag to mom about, and sometimes I slack a little. I was really looking forward to communicating my struggles, maybe to develop relationships with others, invite others to read my thoughts and give insight, and just mainly to get it off my chest.

What put me over the "blog edge" was the discovery of my mom, my beloved Queen, having lung cancer. It is a brand new bloody bruised ugly wound that hurts deeply. It is now more than ever that I need to speak, just get my thoughts out and organize them, if that's possible. My friends and family know I'm a better writer than I am a talker, so maybe people can follow my blog and "hear" things they might not from talking to me.

I've named my blog "Faith Moving" for the obvious reasons I've mentioned above. All you need is faith, right? Eh, I dunno. Maybe. Faith or the lack there of, is and has been consuming my soul for awhile now. Faith in God, faith in myself, faith in doctors, faith in my mother, my family, my husband. I thought my faith in God was truckin' steadily up the Faithometer, I was feeling good, I was reading my bible everyday, asking a lot of good questions (at least to me)  and praying daily. Then I was hit with this semi truck of cancer, and my Faithometer took a plunge. I want to be angry at God, but can I be angry at someone I don't really know yet? It's like picking someone out of a crowd at random and shouting, "Hey you, over there! I'm mad at you!" That's not fair. Is it?