Heavy Heart Today.....

I got on today to write a blog about a soccer game that Peter and I just went to.  I couldn’t do it. My heart was too heavy and my mind racing with all that I’ve been seeing on the news lately.  Abortion.  It’s everywhere.  Honestly, I have no new insights. I feel like everything’s been said. Over and over.  I only have my own thoughts that have been turning in my mind.  For the past several days my thoughts have turned to “where do I fit in this discussion?  Where am I culpable?” 

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how best to “speak out.”  I have many friends that have had abortions and, whether or not they have any remorse, I hate the thought of pouring salt in any wounds.  I think about Jesus and His Grace and how much he passionately loves these women and I don’t want my words to hurt.  But then I think about the babies.  I think about Jesus and His Grace and how much he passionately loves these little ones that He knit together in their mother’s womb….and I don’t want to remain silent on their behalf.

I started thinking about standing before God one day.  I started thinking about questions that He might ask.  “Emily. This was going on.  The thousands of babies that were being killed every year….what did you do?”  And other questions that I might be asked started coming into my mind. 

My answers weren’t pretty.

Emily when you were in high-school and a girl got pregnant….what did your church community do?  What did YOU do?  If a girl in your youth group got pregnant and decided not to have an abortion, how would she have felt? Would she have felt loved and supported or would she have felt judged and rejected?  Oh GOD I know my answer!!  I’m sitting here with tears streaming down my face with the weight of my conviction.  The ugliness of my self-righteousness and judgmental heart.  Should the “easier” choice be abortion because the thought of walking through the doors of a church and seeing the stares…is too much to bear?

I say this about myself.  I know countless people in our churches who are reaching out to these girls, these women. I have friends who are babysitting their babies while they go to school, collecting baby supplies. They’ve spent their weekends and summers creating fun experiences for foster children.  Some have taken these kids into their homes and some have adopted.  There are people that are doing things!! 

But it seems like we, as a church, should be doing more.  Yes.  People need to know the truth.  They need to know that the “clump of cells” in fact has a heartbeat and a brain and all the other aspects that make a person a “person.”  He needs time and nourishment….just like my little premie boy needed when he was born too early.  He needed time and food to help him grow.  He just did it in the hospital instead of inside my womb. 

But the Truth doesn’t end with what abortion is.  The Truth of God’s Grace should change everything.  His Grace calls us to live radically!!  To spend our lives for the lives of others.  Honestly, I’m not really sure what my point is here.  I guess it’s just that choosing life is hard!!  Pregnancy is hard.  Giving up a baby for adoption is hard.  Being a single mom is hard.  It will always be the harder option.  But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t right.  And as the Church we are called….I am called to come alongside these women and love them radically….the way that He does.  Lord, thank you for your Grace which covers MY multitude of sins.  May it be my great motivator to love and care for the ones that you so passionately love.  Inside and outside of the womb.  

Happy Anniversary to Us!!!

On June 28^th, Peter and I celebrated our first anniversary.  A whole year. Wow.  Newlyweds, Ebola, pregnancy, NICU….quite the year we’ve had.  I had a romantic getaway planned for his return from Sierra Leone but that got nipped in the bud with the surprise delivery of our son.  The maternity dress that I spent about an hour debating whether or not to buy to look cute when I picked him up from the airport (as cute as a 9 month pregnant lady can look….I mean….let’s be honest) remains unworn in my closet.  Along with my maternity swim suit.  Maybe next time…..

Our anniversary came and went with little fanfare as we were still busy figuring out this whole “newborn” thing.  So when my mom gave us the opportunity to use a family friend’s timeshare at the coast for a couple nights as a belated anniversary present, we jumped at the chance. Especially since she volunteered to keep BOTH of our kiddos!!  While Peter was in Sierra Leone I had some pregnancy insomnia, which gave me some brilliant ideas. One of my brilliant ideas was that we should stop renting our house and….move into my parents’ camper, located in their backyard.  Their very small, weekend camper.  I maintain that it was a brilliant, cost-saving idea but….it’s a little tight.  It was fine when it was just Marie and I but when Peter came home…and then Ben, well.  Snug. It’s snug.  The condo that Peter and I stayed in at the coast was 3 bedrooms.  Just for us!!!  We didn’t know what to do with so much space.

Several years ago I came to this same timeshare with the rest of my family.  Peter and I had just begun dating a few months before and it was the first time we were separated.  Even though Peter had never been to this town, it was filled with memories of our relationship for me.  There was the Subway that I was eating in with my family while they were teasing me about texting Peter.  There was the beach that I used to write a message to him in the sand and e-mail him the picture.  There was the movie theater that I remember sitting in wondering if Peter would enjoy the movie we were watching (The Hobbit) and the store that was having a 90% off sale where I bought Peter his first swimming suit. (Who, when I texted him to ask him his size responded with….”I don’t know. You’ve seen me. You should know my size.”)

One of my favorite things about Peter is his giggle.  Sometimes we'll just be driving around and he'll start giggling.  The first time he saw one of these bikes, I got the giggle. :)  So when we saw people riding around on these, we knew we needed to give it a try.

Peter and I had a pretty un-conventional dating life so in order to make up for that, we did the traditional date of mini-golf for our anniversary. :) 

We were at the coast so....of course we had to fly a kite!!  Since we're not really "kite" people, we got the cheapest (and simplest) one we could find.  Turns out....kite flying isn't really that exciting.  I have such fond memories of flying kites as a kid but since there was such a great wind we literally just let it go and let the string out.  Then what do you do? We stood there for 10 minutes or so....and then we were done.  Good time had by all.

And sleep. Precious, long, uninterrupted sleep.  That might have been the best part!

Thank you Mom for keeping our kiddos so we could have this awesome time together!!

I love doing life with this guy!

Getting Close.......

Two days ago we got Ben’s birth certificate.  I started panicking…just a little bit.  Not because I spelled his name wrong on his birth certificate, which was a very real paranoia for me, but because getting his birth certificate is the first step in the sequence of events that needs to happen for us to return to Sierra Leone.  Which means….we’re going to go back soon!!!  First comes the birth certificate, which allows us to get his passport, which allows us to get his visa. Throw in a set of immunizations that he needs before we go and….we’re out of here.  Y.I.K.E.S.

Every time I come home the same thing happens.  Am I REALLY called to live in Sierra Leone? I can do ministry in America too! The cultures are the same……which means people here get my hilarious jokes!! I spend a lot of time in Sierra Leone just looking like an idiot. 

So for the last two days I’ve been like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in terms of my feelings about going back.  When I think about the work going on over there, the people I love, the potential for ministry, I’ll be so excited that I can’t WAIT to get back.  The next minute I’ll think about this new little baby and be terrified to take him to a country with lots of snakes and weird diseases, but few doctors.  I’ve been away for a while now.  Our two month trip to get married has turned into almost a year and a half.  On the one hand, I can’t wait to get settled into our own house, finally unpack all the wedding gifts that I’ve been saving and really begin our new life as a family.  On the other hand, although our life for the last year has felt very UNsettled, I know that there are many ways I’ve settled in just fine.  I’ve grown used to microwaves, unlimited electricity, good roads and cool weather!  Most importantly, I’ve grown used to having my family close by and talking to them all the time. 

Such is the battle that I have every time I come home. (This extended trip and the addition of a small, fragile human has just thrown in a few extra questions). 

As I start to get myself all riled up with the uncertainty and fear that moving across the world can induce, I start to think about…..Jesus.  I remember how much He loves me.  I remember His promise that life is HARD, but that He will never leave me by myself.  I remember how much He loves my children. 

And then I think about how much He loves Sierra Leone.  Having children of my own has given me a whole new appreciation for how much our God must love His children.  How His heart breaks for the poor, for the orphans.  And now I’m sitting here bawling because I’m in awe of the fact that we get to partner with Him to love on these people.  (I’m also going to still blame some post-partum hormones.  Is there an expiration date for those?)  Needless to say, when I fix my eyes on Jesus, things like fast internet and Subway and air-conditioning, although REALLY awesome, lose some of their luster.  Especially when I remember this

And This

And this

Serving Jesus in Sierra Leone is definitely challenging!  But what an adventure!

One of the biggest hurdles we have before going back to Salone is to complete our support raising. I haven't changed my support since I originally went over 4 years ago, as a single person.  Now we're a family of 4.  I've been really blessed to be able to work while we've been in America to make up the difference, but that opportunity is rapidly coming to a close.  Peter will be taking over the position of Country Director of our organization which was a position previously held by another missionary and is unpaid.  In order to return to Sierra Leone we need to increase our support by $400 a month.  If you feel led to partner with our family and the work in Sierra Leone feel free to contact us via e-mail at pesheriff14@gmail.com or by phone at (541) 220-0737.  

I'll be honest and say that raising support is a challenging and humbling part of working in Sierra Leone.  But so many times, when I was over in Sierra Leone and it was hard and I was discouraged, knowing that there were so many people back home who were praying for me and sacrificing their own money so that the work could continue....wow.  What an encouragement!  Such a great picture of how the body of Christ each has its own part and works together to love and to serve.  So thank you SO much! 

The Early Bird.....Gets to Go to the NICU

Two Mondays ago my plans for the evening were to watch a little TV and recuperate from a busy day of getting stuff ready for the container we’re shipping to Sierra Leone.  Instead, I gave birth.  In an effort to remember the details of that day, as well as share the story with a few people who’ve asked, I decided to share it here.  Men, (and squeamish women) beware.  I’m tired, hormonal and on my best day have a leaky social filter so I’m not sure how graphic this is going to get.  Read at your own risk. 

Monday was a busy day. My dad and I spent all day packing and organizing things for a container that we were to ship on Saturday.  My sister recently found out that her husband got a job in New Mexico and within a week or so, she and her family headed down south.  My mom went with them to help them get settled, so Dad, Marie and I were holding down the fort. 

Since I found about this little bun in the oven, Mondays have been significant because every Monday marked one more week of pregnancy down.  My husband Peter went back to Sierra Leone in April so every Thursday was significant because it meant one week closer to his return.  This Monday made 33 weeks of baby cooking and only 1 ½ more weeks until Peter got back.  (He was coming back 6 weeks before I was due so….PLENTY of time before baby came.   

We got back to the house at about 3:30 and I was pretty beat.  I put a movie on for Marie and then went in to my room to watch a little “mommy tv.” (Ok I admit it. I was watching “Married at First Sight.” A train wreck of a show that is about 3 couples who meet for the first time at the alter.  Feel free to judge….I judge myself). 

I hadn’t been watching the show for more than 10 minutes when I suddenly felt a large gush of fluid.  Oh shoot.  Did I just wet my pants?  But I didn’t have to pee! And I ALWAYS have to pee.  I stood up and some more came out.  I went into the bathroom to investigate and…..it sure didn’t smell like pee.  I went into the living room and told my Dad that I think my water broke and called my doctor’s answering service (it was Memorial Day). 

While I waited for the answering service to call me back, I tried to figure out what to do with all this water coming out.  I changed my jeans….but they were immediately soaked.  I had no idea where any pads were because we’ve moved about 17 times since becoming pregnant and….well, I hadn’t needed them.  While this hunt was going on the nurse on call called me back and I explained the situation.  As we were talking I broke down and started crying.  She told me that I needed to grab my hospital bag and go directly to the hospital.  “Hospital bag!!!” I sobbed.  “I’m only 33 weeks!! I don’t have one yet!”  She told me that if I didn’t have one packed I needed to go straight to the hospital without one.  I was in the bathroom at this point, hunting for something to catch all this fluid so I grabbed my toothbrush, glasses and contact case and called it good.  I changed my pants again and headed out the door with my dad and my daughter.  As we were walking to the car another gush of fluid came and I said forget it.  I’ll just look like I wet my pants. 

We went to the ER, as I knew this was the drill. This was the third time during my pregnancy that I’d had to be checked out for something. The other two times I had contractions that were about 2 min. apart and didn’t go away with laying down and drinking water.  They weren’t painful though, and I never dilated so they gave me some meds to make them stop and they did.   This was a whole new ballgame.  As we were driving to the hospital, I became very aware that I wasn’t feeling little Ben moving. When I’d been watching TV, he was obviously into it too because he was kicking away in there. Since my water broke, I’d felt him once at the beginning but not since.  I lost a baby in Sierra Leone to a prolapsed cord after I broke mom’s water so this was of course what I was envisioning.  The baby in Sierra Leone was a twin, so he was very small and that cord just shimmied right down there.  Ben was very small so even though I didn’t know if I was dilated, it was running through my head as a possibility.    

I got to the hospital and was happy to know that my OB was on call.  He came in, did an exam (I wasn’t dilated) and we discussed the options.  Basically, my option was that they were going to send me to a different hospital to deliver.  Ben was going to need a NICU.  Did I want to go North or South?  It was all happening so fast! But God was so faithful.  Some friends of my parents (shout out Dave and Lois) dropped what they were doing and came to the hospital to get Marie.  My dad who, although a nurse himself was probably being stretched outside his comfort zone with all this baby bornin’ business was steady and calm and ready to do whatever needed to be done.  I’d been delaying calling Peter until I knew what was going on because it was the middle of the night in Sierra Leone but at this point I decided I should let him know what was going on.  He didn’t answer his phone (which I was expecting because that boy is a heave sleeper!) so I sent him a nice little text letting him know that there was a chance we were going to have our baby much sooner than expected.  With that, they called for the ambulance and off I went.

The whole “being the patient” thing was just so weird! Signing forms as the “patient” that I’d signed a hundred times as “RN” or “witness.”  Listening to the nurse give report about me to the medics, getting loaded up into the stretcher and strapped in.  All so weird!

About five minutes after our ride started we made a pit stop at the ambulance quarters to change medics.  Apparently the one in the back with me was ready to be sick.  The new medic that hopped on was much friendlier (probably because he wasn’t focusing on not vomiting on his patient) and we had a nice little chat.  About halfway down to the hospital (the whole trip was about an hour) I noticed that these contractions were changing and starting to become a little…uncomfortable.  The medic noticed my discomfort and we started timing them.  2 minutes apart.  He told me to let him know if they got to one minute apart.  I’d had contractions that were 2 minutes apart (although they hadn’t been this….uncomfortable) so I wasn’t really worried.  We only had 30 minutes to go.  I assured him we’d be fine. (As much as I didn’t want to deliver in an ambulance, I knew he didn’t want to HELP me deliver in an ambulance either….probably even more!)    

I arrived at my new hospital and the nurse got me all admitted.  Although it was Memorial Day, the doctor on call was already around for another patient so she came in to see me right away.  She did an ultrasound and sure enough, my water was broken.  As we were talking she noticed that I was squirming around quite a bit and asked about my contractions.  I said that they seemed to be getting more painful but I thought I was just being a wimp because I hadn’t been dilated at all at my home hospital.  She explained that the way they do the exam after your water has broken can make it difficult to really tell if you’re dilated so, based on the way I was squirming, she wanted to check me again.  I was 3 cm. dilated.  Ben was coming sooner rather than later.  But I haven’t even had my childbirth classes yet!!!  I was waiting for Peter to get home so we were going to do them next week!!  She asked if I wanted some pain medication or was interested in an epidural and I said….”epidural please.” 

Then I said, “Dangit! I was going to see how long I could go without an epidural and I only made it to 3cm????  Shoot!”

She said, “ Well, I think I could stretch it to 4cm.  You were dilated 4cm.  Does that make you feel better?”

“Yes!  Thank you.”

“If it makes you feel better, I had my daughter in this same room and after 2 real contractions was calling for an epidural.” 

I liked her.

At this point I’m pretty….uncomfortable…. and am moving around a lot.  As if I could find some kind of position that would make this pain go away.  (Hint: no position will make that pain “go away.”  Not sure what I was thinking.)  I heard the nurse tell someone that the anesthesiologist was in the middle of a case and they’d call him in 10 minutes.  Call him in 10 min?  And then who knows how long it will take for him to get here? Dang.  I’m ready for him……um…..now.

Every time the door opened I was hoping to see a face that I didn’t recognize with a name tag that said “Anesthesia” and a giant needle to put in my back to make me feel better.  I heard the nurses murmuring to each other “Did they call him? Where is he?” After what seemed like an eternity (and was probably more like 30 minutes or so) he arrived!!!  My first thought was “Praise the Lord!!!” followed quickly by “How the heck am I going to stay still for him to get this into me?”  I’d been moving all around in the bed, standing up, sitting down, bending over……etc. How was I going to sit still?  Anesthesia got all set up and I just kept thinking “Emily, you have to sit still because the sooner he gets it in, the sooner you’ll feel better.” 

And this was where I really saw how those natural childbirth classes probably would have helped.  When I was forced to sit down, the nurse sat with me and helped me focus on my breathing and just getting through the contraction.  One contraction at a time.  Before I’d been a crazy person, moving all around, just trying to get comfortable.  Focusing on breathing and just getting through a contraction was actually really helpful. 

As helpful as it was, as soon as he was done and had administered the “test dose” I was up again.  This time apparently, with some grunting. 

I heard one of the nurses say “That moan sounded different.  Do you feel like you need to poop?” 

Me: “Poop?   No.” (I've delivered a baby into a bedpan before when a woman needed to "poop" so I knew where she was going). 

Anesthesia: “Should we get the doctor in here?”  (Later the nurses were laughing at that because…..he is a doctor!)

Me: One more contraction and…..“Um, ok I think I'm ready to push now.”

My dad walking in the room: “When did all this happen?” (He’d stepped out for the epidural and things had progressed…..quickly.)

They set me back in the bed and I vaguely remember noticing there were quite a few people in there.  They told me to push so I did a couple times and then I saw the doc exchange a look with the nurse. Ben’s heartrate was dropping with the contractions which meant we needed to get him out. 

So I pushed harder. The thought did cross my mind that as small as this kid must be, he should be sliding right out!  And eventually, he did.  And he came out screaming!!  They let me hold him for a few minutes until the doctor started hearing some grunting noises that he wanted to check out and they whisked him away. 

As soon as Ben (and the entourage that had come to take care of him) left the room I started settling down.  That’s when it occurred to me.  Hey! Does that count as an epidural?????  Everyone in the room said No!!! If the anesthesiologist is still in the room, there’s no way it’s had time to work and it doesn’t count!  So yeah…..I’m pretty hard core….yeah……

After I was stitched up and cleaned up, I went to go see Ben in the NICU.  I was amazed.  His oxygen level was 100% and he didn’t need any extra oxygen!! They hadn’t even needed to give him the medicine that they often do when babies are born early to help their lungs develop.  And he was just beautiful.

There are a few things that are imprinted in my mind right now that I want to make sure I remember about my “birth story.”

 1) The paramedic who was in the back with me telling the driver to “not waste time and get those lights on” as we were pulling away.  Then the relief I had when I saw the hospital and knew I wouldn’t be delivering in the ambulance.

2)      Marie leaving the hospital with her Auntie Lois and just the feeling of thankfulness I had knowing that she was with someone she loves who loves her and I didn’t have to worry about her.

3)      My precious dad standing in the doorway while I was pushing.  He told me later that there were so many people in the room that he didn’t want to get in the way, but he didn’t want me to be alone.  That’s how he was the whole time.  Present.  Available if I needed something.  Precious.

4)      Hearing Ben’s strong cry as soon as he was born. I was expecting him to be lethargic and probably struggling to breathe when he came out so that cry was just wonderful.

5)      A dear friend of mine texting me and telling me that she was coming down.  Not asking, just telling me that even if she ended up just waiting in the waiting room, she was coming down.  After her own difficult labor and extended time in the ICU with her husband, she was a huge and did so many practical things to help and encourage me.

6)      Going to visit Ben and having the internet in Sierra Leone work well enough so we could Skype with Peter and he could see his son.  He was just sleeping so I tried poking him so he’d wake up and do something but Peter told me to “just let the man sleep.”  A picture of our relationship. Me riling things up, Peter calming them down. J

7)      The relief I had when my mom arrived.  My dad did an incredible job, but I’m 33 and still need my mommy. J

8)      The massive amounts of texts and Facebook messages that I received from people who were thinking about and praying for me.  I’ve yet to be able to respond to them all but was so thankful during that time for all the people that were praying for me!

9)      My dad told me, sometime in the next couple of days, that he counted 11 people in my delivery room.  Eleven people, just there for Ben.  At least two doctors, specialized nurses, a respiratory therapist and many other people all there to do everything they could to make sure Ben and I were ok. (I do have a fleeting memory of

looking to my right and noticing a strange guy helping me hold my leg up and thinking…..”Hi. Have we met?”)  Peter and I were talking about it later and I broke down crying thinking about all the people and resources that we have to help Ben and then thinking about all the babies in Sierra Leone who don’t even have one trained person attend their delivery.  We are truly blessed in this country. 

This whole experience was definitely something that was unexpected, but I was so incredibly thankful for all the people who stepped up to help me.  Many times over the last couple of weeks I’ve thought about all the people who were the hands and feet of Jesus to me during this time.  I’m a very blessed woman.  

P.S.  Next will be "What happens when you try to bring someone from an EBOLA COUNTRY into the NICU?  Da da da.......

Then and Now.......

At 3:30 this morning I dropped Peter off at the airport for him to begin his long trek back to Sierra Leone.  He'll be gone for 2 months.  As I was driving back from the airport I couldn't help but remember the last time we were separated for 2 months.  And I started to chuckle.  So I thought I'd share. :)

Peter and I started "dating", "talking", "getting to know each other" ...whatever you call it, in September of 2012, about two years into my living and working in Sierra Leone.  As per my tradition, I came back to the US every November for two months to spend the holidays with my family.   Peter and I lived very close to each other so for the two months that we knew each other before I left, we spent a lot of time together.

I headed down to Freetown a couple days before my flight so I could wrap up some things with my co-workers before I left the country.  I decided to invite Peter so he could meet everyone.  Yikes! I was nervous.  There was some hesitation on the part of my friends and family about this budding little relationship which I completely understood because I had a LOT of hesitation myself!!!  The cultures are so different! Our upbringings are so different! Are we just wasting our time?
Marie wasn't living with me at the time so the plan was for Peter and I to drive down, have dinner with my friends for the BIG INTRO and then the next day Peter and I would spend the day together at the beach.  A little farewell if you will.

Now I don't know how many "romantic comedies" you've seen.....but I've seen a lot.  And it doesn't take many Meg Ryan films to figure out that "beach time" equals "romantic time."  Picnics, romantic walks, the works.  I had it all planned out in my head.  Poor Peter didn't have a clue.  Apparently he'd never even watched "The Notebook!"  He had no idea that he was supposed to hold my hand as we were walking down the beach, or shower me with compliments and tell me how his heart was breaking because I was leaving and he didn't know how he was going to survive the next 2 months.  He was just having fun swinging in the hammock on the beach! Meanwhile I'm going over what seems to be a disaster of a "last date" before I left thinking, "What's this guys' deal?!?!?  Does he even like me?  Does he care at all that I'm going? I'm going to miss him....is this just no big deal to him?"  The final straw came that evening when I dropped him off at his brothers house and he hopped out of the car, gave me a friendly wave and said, "Take Care!"  Wait....what?!  "Take care??!!?"  I lost it.  I got to my friends house and just sobbed to them that "I can't do this.'" "This isn't what I want." "We're too different." Etc. Etc.

To be fair, the hammock was a lot of fun!

So now I had a problem.  I was flying home soon and wasn't going to get a chance to talk to Peter in person before I left but felt like I needed to let him know that I didn't think this whole relationship thing just wasn't going to work.  I didn't want it to be a shock to him when I got back. So I summoned my courage, pushed down my nausea and called him.  Here's the gist of our conversation.
Me:  "Hey Peter. So......I'm really sorry but I just don't think this is going to work.  (The tears have started now).  We're so different and it's not anybody's fault, it's just....I don't think this is going to work."

Peter: "..................................................................Emily, what happened!?!?"  (Poor guy just thought we had a great time at the beach and had no idea about the melodrama that was playing out in my head).

Me: Rambling at this point. "It's not your fault! You don't know know that you're supposed to hold my hand on the beach! And you just said 'Take Care' when we were leaving!!!  You don't know these things that I'm used to and it's not your fault, but it just isn't going to work!"

Peter: "............................. (He's way better at thinking before he speaks than I am).  Emily, It's true. I don't know about these things that you're talking about, but you can tell me and I'm a very fast learner!!"

Me: "Peter, that's not fair to you. It's not either of our faults.....but to explain all these things.....all these differences......it just sounds exhausting!"

Peter: "It's true that it won't be easy, but I believe that by the grace of God and with His help, we could have a marriage that would really glorify Him!"

I mean....what's a girls supposed to say to that??  Plus, I really liked this guy!

Fast forward several years and I can see that what happened that day on the beach was the first in what will no doubt be a long list of differences, both gender, personality and cultural that we will be navigating though out our marriage.  I remember when I got back to Sierra Leone after those first two months apart and was talking about Peter and our relationship with a Sierra Leonean friend of mine. I mentioned the meltdown that I'd had before I left with him just waving and saying "Take Care" as he hopped out of the car.  I was met with a blank look.  I tried to explain further.  He didn't say he was going to miss me, that he was sad I was leaving...nothing!  Another blank look. When she finally realized that THAT was what I was upset about, she started laughing.  "Ha! That is really not a problem for us......" Thanks....I'm realizing that!

While these differences can and are a challenge at times, we've also learned to laugh at them over the years.  The other day I worked a late shift so woke up in the afternoon.  (Now this is an embarrassing admission but I blame a. my pregnancy hormones and b. the fact that I was preparing to  lose my husband for 2 months....so keep that in mind when you judge my neediness).  I was laying in bed and heard Peter out in the living room. I asked him to come in and told him  I just needed a quick hubby snuggle before I got up.  (Like Marie does with me....and she's 6.  I know.  Pregnant. Leaving. Remember?)  As we were laying there I started laughing and said, "Can you imagine if you'd married a Sierra Leonean and she asked you to just come in to snuggle...in the middle of the day?"  He busted out laughing and said "That would NEVER happen!"  I'm laughing again as I write this....it's just so absurd!

We were right at the beginning. It's definitely not always easy, but Peter does foreign things like wash the dishes even though he's "the man" and snuggle with me in the middle of the day because he loves me and that communicates his love to me. I do foreign things like gut fish call his family and friends without any other reason except to "greet" because I love him and those are ways I can show him.

I feel like that kind of wraps things up in a nice neat little way.....which is the way romantic comedies are supposed to go..... but just isn't real life. So don't believe for a second that we don't know that we are only 9 months into a very long road.  The few years that we've been together have already had its share of tears, frustrations and anger when we just don't understand WHY the other person would do that, or think that way!!  In the last couple of months Peter and I have both remarked to each other that before we got married we each thought we would be excellent spouses because we had x, y, and z character traits. Our future spouses would be so happy for this or that!  It didn't take long into marriage before we were both confronted with sin and selfishness issues that were so well hidden even our closest friends and family couldn't see.  We couldn't even see them in ourselves!  Until they began hurting the other person.  But as Peter and I said when we first started talking about marriage.....if we decide to commit, that's it.  No going back.  We'll be happy or we'll be miserable, but we'll be married, so we might as well do the work to make it a happy one!  And we're SO thankful for our Helper who is even more invested in our marriage than we are!

P.S.  Yesterday I told Peter that although I realize that the misunderstanding regarding our first "goodbye" was purely cultural....and I was sorry to be high maintenance, I was still going to need more than a wave and a 'take care" at the airport this morning.  :) He just giggled.  I like this guy. 

Oh Baby Baby.....Please Stop That

NOTICE:  I started this blog on Monday but it took me forever to finish it so I attached a little update from today at the end.  So read this like it was written on Tuesday...... :)  

I'd planned for my next blog to be about the cruise that my sister and I went on a couple weeks ago.  However, since it now seems like old news (and I have something else to write about), I will sum up what would have been my post with this picture (worth a thousand words, right?)

This is basically how my sister and I spent our 4 days.  This picture shows several orders of room service that, since we so rarely left our room had yet to be picked up yet.  We got so sunburned after 3 hours in the sun on our first day that we were still in pain after the cruise was over.  Hence the 3 seasons of Downton Abbey that we watched....in our room.  We left the boat for 1 1/2 hours at one of the ports.  We didn't have a lot of exciting news to report at our group dinners but..... it was wonderful. So THANK YOU to my mom and my hubby for watching Marie and for my special friend that paid my airfare so I could go!! Great memories with my sis!

Yesterday was not quite as relaxing as those days on the cruise.  Over the weekend I'd been noticing some slight tightening in my abdomen.  Yesterday morning some kind of pain woke me up at about six am.  I hung out in bed for the next hour or so and noticed that the "tightening" kept happening.  It wasn't painful, didn't feel crampy.  It just came in a wave, and I noticed I could feel the outline of my uterus really well.  What the heck was going on?  

II didn't want to be that neurotic patient who calls with silly things and overreacts.  Did NOT want to be that patient!!  However, I also didn't want something to happen to the little one and to not have done anything so I bit the bullet and called my doc.  She told me that what I described sounded like contractions and sent me to the hospital to get checked. Well now I had a dilemma.  I'd started doing Marie's hair in extensions the night before but ran out of yarn and still had about 2-3 hours to finish up.  Shoot!!! She literally had the bottom half of her head with hair halfway down her back, and the top half of her head with three little puffs about 3 inches long.  Not cute.  And her friend was on the way to pick her up.  Darnit!!!!  I quickly did some little twists to try and make it presentable.  I don't have a picture for you, but just envision the 7 year old version of "business in the front, party in the back."  Sorry Marie!!

Marie was picked up and headed was out and about with her friend (and Mom).  Peter and I headed to the hospital.  I felt pretty sheepish as I walked in because I'd only felt this "squeezing" a couple times since standing up and moving around.  The nurse was very sweet and got me hooked up the the monitor.  Sure enough, I was contracting regularly every 2 min.  I immediately felt relief that I wasn't crazy and imagining things, but it was quickly followed fear that I really was contracting....and that it wasn't just a couple.  The nurse started an IV to give me some fluids and gave me a shot of medicine to stop the contractions.  As soon as she left the room.....of course I burst into tears.  Poor Peter had thought he'd missed something and was like "What?!!? What did she say??!!"

She hadn't said anything.  I'd just been laying there envisioning several different things.  One of the memories that haunts me a little about delivering babies in Sierra Leone was the time that I delivered a super small one...into a bedpan. I learned my lesson and since that time I have NEVER let a woman in labor try to use the bathroom, no matter how much she insisted.  It was just such an...undignified way for this little one to enter the world that I've always felt badly.  I scooped him out of the bedpan and held him while he took his first few and final breaths.  One time we had to do a c-section on a woman who's baby was too small but who was ecclamptic and wouldn't stop seizing.  We tried what we could with bagging and oxygen....but it didn't end well for the baby.  These faces, along with the babies from my NICU rotation in nursing school were swimming in my head......hence the tears.  Peter just took my hand and reminded me that God is in control.  

They did some tests, looking for possible causes but didn't really find anything.  The only possible cause they could see was a sinus infection that I'd been fighting for the last week and a half and had finally decided I needed to see a doc for some antibiotics.  Since the contractions became less intense and more irregular with the second medication they gave me to stop the contractions, they decided they could send me home.  I went home with some antibiotics, nifedipine (to stop the contractions) and instructions to take it easy for a couple days. 

This morning I woke up and the contractions were still there. I was super frustrated....and anxious!! I had so many things that were going through my mind that as I was having my time with Jesus this morning I just decided to write down everything that I was worried about, starting from the fact that Peter's supposed to go back to Sierra Leone in a few days to the potential of bed rest, the financial implications, etc.  I had a nice little list and was just writing anything coming into my head. I literally stopped and laughed when I wrote down that I was worried about how we're going to travel to Eugene and back every day for months if this little one ends up in the NICU for a long time, how I'd be able to work, how Marie would get to school, etc.  Seriously Emily?  Talk about borrowing trouble from tomorrow!!!!  I kept hearing the verses in Mathew that say " Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."  Rest for my soul? Easy yoke and light burden? Yes please!!!!!  I just prayed and told Jesus that I was really tired of carrying this anxiety burden, so I was handing it over!  It's too heavy for me!!  Nothing in my circumstances changed, but being able to focus on that precious verse from Scripture radically changed my outlook and I felt at peace.  Peter's words that "God is in control" which I'll admit sounded a bit hollow in my ears at the time he said it, now hit me like a mack truck.  A mack truck bringing peace. :)  

UPDATE ON TUESDAY:  I was up pretty much all night last night with the same feelings that I had on Monday. This wave of tightness in my abdomen that would come every couple of minutes.  I took my nifedipine early and it did seem to slow things down a bit so I waited until the office opened and called for some advice.  They told me to come back in.  They hooked me up to the monitor to look for contractions but even though they felt the same to me, they didn't register as contractions like they had on Monday....more just like uterine irritations.  She checked my cervix again and it was still closed, although she said the little fella was in a low position, which could be irritating my cervix.  She also said that some women just have "colicky uteruses" which I took to mean....they're just a little testy and easily annoyed.  But you know what they say...."Colicky uterus = non colicky baby" right?  They say that don't they?!?!?!?  So here I am, back at home and feeling rested after a nice long nap. I didn't get put on any restrictions which was a huge blessing! My mind is at ease so I'm hoping my body takes that cue and knocks it off already. :)  Thank you so much for all your prayers and encouragement!!  We appreciate it so much!

Pregnancy Craziness

I started this blog several years ago to document my new, crazy life in Sierra Leone.  I left Sierra Leone six months ago and therefore haven't had a lot of "crazy Africa stories" to tell.  But....the craziness has not left my life.  It now just seems more self-inflicted.  For some reason I am compelled to share this story/conversation that happened in my house yesterday.  Try not to think worse of me!! :)

Yesterday was a long shopping day.  I knew it was going to be long so, call me a coward but I ponied up the $7 to keep Marie in after-school care so I could shop in peace.  I made it home just before dinner and whipped up some Brinner of pancakes and eggs.  I put Marie to bed and went to brush my teeth.  While in the bathroom, I apparently had a psychotic break.  I started crying and eventually wedged myself down on Marie's little step stool between the wall and the sink and just sobbed.  The ugly cry.

Quite a bit of time passed and Peter must have wondered what happened to me because he came looking for me.  This was our conversation.  Please keep in mind that this is all with me continuing to sob, sniff, hiccup, etc.

"Emily!! What happened?"

Silence (well, crying).

"Emily, why are you crying?"

"I don't know. I think I'm crazy."

"Well what happened?????"

"Peter, something is wrong with me.  I teared up/and or cried 11 times today.  E L E V E N Times!!!  That's not normal! Even for me!!!"

(There is a debate between Peter and I about what is an acceptable amount to cry. He would prefer none, I say that once every week or two is acceptable.  He says I am "quick to cry" but after several years has gotten used to it and does't take it personally anymore.)

"Well what happened? Why were you crying?"

"It started in the lotion aisle at Walmart. I was standing in front of all these lotions, trying to decide which one is the best one for my mixed raced, baby, boy (none of those 3 do I know ANYTHING about) and how much I'll need for the next two years when I just started crying.  I have no idea what I'm doing!!"

Sidebar: I was shopping for a container that we are shipping out soon and therefore need to stock up on things that we won't be able to get or will be much more expensive in Sierra Leone.

I continued, "It got worse when I moved on to crib bedding and I spent 15 minutes trying to decide which toddler potty I should get.  I cried when I thought about the "Ebola orphans" in Sierra Leone and then when I remembered how sad the girl was who was sent home from 'The Bachelor.' (Yes, I know.  Not thinking less of me remember?!?!?)  The other million times, I have NO IDEA what made me tear up.

During all of this, Peter is just standing there, patting my head because remember I'm wedged in between the sink and the wall so that's basically all he has access to. He is totally silent because he's a good listener but also..I mean, how do you respond to this.

So I kept going.  "I went to Goodwill and tried on some clothes and Peter, I'm just huge.  And I'm just going to keep getting bigger.  There are all those cute little pregnant ladies but I just look like I had McDonalds for lunch......every day for the last month!!

Peter piped up. "Emily I've told you before! You're ok for me.  You look just ok to me!!"

In our marriage, there are little nuances in language and culture that often need some explanation and/or reinterpretation.  This was one of those cases.  Telling your pregnant wife that she looks "just ok" is not something she wants to hear.....

He continued: "My brother called today and wanted to see a picture of you pregnant and I told him that you just look ok---

"Peter. Please. You have to stop saying that I look "just ok".  That's not helping."

"Bwahahaha (that's him bursting into laughter). Is that wrong? Should I say that you look fine? (Krio for beautiful).  Would that be better?

"Yes that's better."

"Ok, you are very fine!!"

At this point we both started chuckling because the whole thing was just so crazy.

"Today I started tearing up because I was thinking about you and Marie and about how I love you both so much and then 20 minutes after being home you were both driving me crazy.  Marie asked me what "grumpy" meant and I know she knows what it meant because we talk about not being grumpy all the time. After I explained what it meant she asked me if I was being grumpy.  When I asked her what she thought she said 'Yes, I think you're a little grumpy Mama.'  AND PETER I'M ONLY HALFWAY!!!!!

The last bit was said with me laughing which provided a nice little end to my dramatic meltdown.  So thankful for a compassionate and PATIENT husband who unwedged me from the sink and told me it was time to leave the bathroom. :)

I'm excited to get back to Sierra Leone where I expect things to be crazy......not just me.