A Baby Is A Baby Is A Baby

Warning: Very long controversial rant ahead

Can I get on a soap box for a minute? I see a lot of miscarriages in my line of work. Most often I’m the first person to confirm or deny that a pregnancy is viable or if there is a problem. I’m the one they call when they don’t know how far along they are. I’m the one who has to make the gut wrenching call that a baby doesn’t have a heart beat. But I also get to tell people the gender of their little pumpkin, I get to tell them they’re having twins, I get to show them a cute little nose and fingers.

It breaks my heart when a woman comes in who desperately wants to have a baby and I find that she has or will soon miscarry. She’s done everything right; seen a doctor, stopped alcohol consumption, taken prenatal vitamins. No one knows why it happens but I believe that God knows what’s best. I believe that some of those babies that don’t survive would have had severe deficiencies and chromosomal abnormalities and a poor quality of life. God has promised us that He will never give us anything that we cannot handle (1 Cor 10:13). This also means that if we are presented with that situation, He will take it away. Sometimes I think it’s better that those little babies go right to heaven than ever be a part of this world.

And then there are the women who come in and have a perfectly normal pregnancy with a healthy little peanut and they just don’t care. They continue to drink and smoke, shoot heroine, they may even abort. And that just infuriates me. Now, I have no place to judge a person, but those people probably wouldn’t make the best mothers anyway. There is a thing called adoption and there are thousands of couples who would love that little baby more than anything.

I say all that to say this; I just don’t understand how anyone could kill a baby. Yes, I said it. Abortion is killing a baby. I don’t care how far along you are a baby is a baby is a baby. From the moment of conception there is a life inside that body. “It’s just a cell.” Seventh grade science class taught us that cells are living things. “I’m only 5 weeks pregnant, that’s barely anything.” Five week old babies have a heart beat. Seven week old babies have arm and leg nubs. Eight week old babies have bones. Bones. Don’t tell me that’s not a person.

When a woman comes in and is less than thrilled about her pregnancy or doesn’t care to take care of herself (side note: you become a mom at the moment of conception too and need to start taking care of that baby from day one by taking care of yourself) you can tell when a patient is considering abortion. I am not allowed to tell those people my opinion on the matter and it’s not my place to judge them. Believe me, though, I make sure I show them what that little bean looks like inside them. I make sure they know it’s real, I make sure they see the heart beat and watch it jump around.

That life is a little miracle created by God, and God doesn’t make mistakes. He knows exactly what He’s doing and has a perfect plan. So when people say they “accidentally got pregnant” I just don’t believe that. Babies aren’t accidents, God made that! Maybe you can’t take care of a baby, maybe it’s just not the right time for you. But who are we to decide that that baby shouldn’t live?

I have a rare opportunity that most people don’t get a chance to experience. I have seen the beginning of life and I will tell you that it is amazing. It is incomprehensible to me that anyone could deny the medicine behind conception, that it is not a fetus but a living baby, or that anyone could take that life away.

Fill In The _______

Life is moving a long and I'm going with it. My sister-in-law said the other day that she "keeps thinking life will slow down after ____ but then there's another ____." And I thought, yes. There's always another ____ because that's what life is. It's a bunch of ____s, one after another. I worry about what would happen if it ever stopped.

As much as we say we want life to slow down, hold on, relax a minute I think that if we didn't have school and work and a doctor's appointment, soccer practice, play group, that party you said you'd plan, your second cousin's wedding you can't remember why you said you'd be a bridesmaid for.... If we didn't have all of that we wouldn't really have a life, would we?

When you're 80 do you want to say you spent your life slowing down sitting on a couch? No. Sure a Saturday doing that is fantastic and we all need it. Believe me when I get a day when I don't HAVE to do anything it's amazing. But without the _____ I don't know what would keep me going. So I say don't stress about it. Enjoy it. Know that all the _____s make your life your LIFE and look forward to the next one, even if it blindsides you.

I Should Get a Betty White DVD Instead

I’ve been spending the past week hobbling and icing my knee and ankle. Why? Because I tried too hard to work out. See what I get? It’s so much easier to just be lazy!!

So here’s what really happened: I like doing workout dvds as opposed to the gym because I don’t have to brush my teeth or put on shoes to workout. Therein lies the problem, because I should wear socks and supportive shoes while exercising. It says so right in the dvd disclaimer. So in all my barefoot efforts I hurt my ankle doing some of the cardio and compensated for it with my knee. Now they both hurt. But I didn’t want to give up, I swore I was going to shred every day for 30 days. I was the little engine that could… until I couldn’t.

It got so bad that I started limping around long after the workout was over. Laying in bed at night requires motrin and ice to fall asleep. The dvd said “if you feel pain, stop.” I didn’t. It got worse. The Captain, my fitness guru, agreed that I should give the joints a rest.

Welcome to Weight Obsessor’s Anonymous. It’s been two days since I’ve shredded and I feel like a failure.

Not only did I not shred, I went out to dinner and blew my diet. It’s been a rough week. So while I’m benched I’m watching The Captain effortlessly do p90x every single night and wishing I had half that kind of ability and motivation. I bet it’s because he wears shoes.

A Mother's Love

I am so emotional about babies. When I was pregnant I cried at Huggies commercials and blamed it on hormones. The Gerber baby would giggle and I would start bawling. What’s my excuse now? I’m a mom. That’s my excuse.

Some of you are moms and know what I’m talking about. Some of you are mommies-to-be and are hoping you’ll never be as crazy as I am. For those of you who don’t have kids I don’t know how to explain the change that happens in your heart when you have something that is living and breathing and is a part of you. The deepest love you can imagine doesn’t even compare to the love a mother has for her baby.

It sounds so cliché but it really is something you cannot comprehend until you feel it yourself. You’ve heard it a million times, “a mother’s love.” It is somehow its own definition of love. It’s an amazing thing, an uncontrollable thing, and absolutely consuming. It works miracles. I didn’t know this kind of love existed until I became a mom. Why does our language only have one word for love? It’s not enough to describe it.

In church we are taught that God loves us unconditionally, agape love. Yes, I believe that. But I don’t think I understood what unconditional meant. Of course I know what it means; there is nothing you can do to make God not love you. He will always forgive you, always receive you, always be there no matter what. I’m not trying to compare my love for Mister to the love of God, that’s impossible. I think it’s also impossible to fully understand. But now that I’m a mom I think I have a better comprehension of it than I did before.

This mother’s love is something you cannot know until you know it. No one can tell you what it feels like. Not everyone wants children and that’s ok. I’m not here to preach about having babies, some people really shouldn’t. Now that I know what my heart is capable of I can’t imagine going through life not feeling this love. For those people who don’t want children or who can’t have children, I think they would be in agony if they were able to comprehend this and never feel it. A hole exists in their hearts and they don’t even know it’s there. I suppose that’s a blessing in disguise.

Slow and Steady Wins the Race.... I Hope

It’s Monday again. That means two things: a) all the guys I work with crowd the break room watching Monday Night Football so I have no where to eat lunch in peace and b) I meet the scale.

Since my initial weigh in at the doctor’s office at the end of June I have lost 15lbs. When I say it like that it sounds like I’ve accomplished something. It seems like I should feel better about it than I do. But I don’t feel like I’ve lost 15lbs. I’m still not comfortable in my own skin and my pants still don’t fit. So until I can wear the clothes that are hanging in my closet and until I feel like a person and not a blob, 15 is just a number that doesn’t mean anything.

So I’ll keep doing the 30 day shred even though the sound of Jillian’s voice makes me shudder. I’ll keep dieting even though I really, really want all that Halloween candy at Target. I’ll keep on keeping on because I have 21 more pounds to lose. That’s so much. But 21 is just a number and it doesn’t mean anything, right?

After the scale and I had our date I had a breakfast date with The Captain. He made me blueberry pancakes (my favorite) from scratch. The kitchen was a war zone of flour, egg shells, and batter splattered everywhere. He got up early and tried so hard I couldn’t say “I’ll just eat half of the small one, no syrup please.” He knew I was trying to figure out how many calories were in each bite and said “I won’t tell you how much butter is in there.”

Thank you, honey. Breakfast was wonderful but now I can’t eat for a week.

9/10 Is Better Than 7/30

I’m on day nine of my ten day working stretch. My brain is on autopilot and I’m surviving on coffee and under eye concealer. My shoulder aches and in my profession that is as good as a death sentence. People in my field don’t recover from shoulder injuries. Do I think I need physical therapy? No. Not yet. But the aching tells me I’m working too much, too hard, and over doing it. If I don’t knock this off I’m going to end up out of commission and that doesn’t help my bank account.

I’m also on day seven of thirty of my shredding. That doesn’t sound as good as 9/10. I’ve done it every single day, even when I really, really, really didn’t want to. I started doing it in the morning but there were a couple days that I had to be up for work at 4:00am even if I didn’t do the work out. I set the alarm even earlier to get the work out in too. Yeah, that happened. I ended up doing it in the evening a couple times. Once I was going to skip it. I was completely wiped out, it was 11:30pm, getting up at 4:00am and I just couldn’t fathom being able to grip the weights. The Captain wouldn’t let me come to bed without doing it. “You’ll thank me later.” He’s right, I really didn’t want to miss a day but when Jillian was telling me to “punch through the pain” I was punching him in the face. I probably got a better workout.

I’ve been doing great on my diet, except for Sunday which was my birthday dinner. My brother smoked salmon (A.Mazing.) My dad made baked potatoes, salad, broiled asparagus (which sounds healthy until you smother it in olive oil and parmesan), grilled zucchini (again, healthy until you soak it in garlic butter), and more. I ate so much food. The Captain even made a cheesecake from scratch so I HAD to eat it.

Do my pants fit? No. Not even close

The Summer of George!

I’ve been finding it hard to get to the gym but I really want to make a better effort to get this baby weight off. Yeah, let’s just keep calling it baby weight. To aid in my quest my best friend got me a few work out DVDs for my birthday 2 weeks ago and I’ve been staring at them as long.

One of them was Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred. Can I really commit to doing it every single day for an entire month? September has 30 days, what better time to start than September 1. I declare this The Month of Jillian!!

I asked The Captain to take care of Mister in the morning while I’m shredding and also not to come up stairs. I look like a drunk penguin trying out for the Olympic gymnastics team when I work out. No one wants to see that.

My first workout was not as intense as I thought it would be. Not only is it Jillian Michaels but I don’t think I’ve moved much faster than a spectator at an amateur bowling competition in over a year. I was prepared for the worst. There are three levels so I started with level one and I did surprisingly well. Today my muscles are on strike but I pushed through the picket line and I’m 2 for 2. So far so good, although my quads would disagree.