Baseball

It's been extremely hot here these last few days, so when babysitting, we do the only logical thing: go outside and play baseball.

Twin six year old boy is super into all sports ever created, especially baseball. This evening he convinces his twin sister and me to come outside and play baseball in the driveway. Let me paint a picture for you. I am still wearing my work clothes which include a pencil skirt, long necklace, and pearl bracelets. Girl six year old is in a skirt as well. But six year old boy is decked out in baseball shirt, baseball hat, and shorts, ready to roll. Of course.

Six year old boy decides to pitch. Not only are his pitches terrifying because they are definitely faster than anything that I can throw, but his aim is a little off, so the ball usually ends up hitting me somewhere in the torso if I'm at bat. He also does the whole pitcher spitting on the ground thing while looking at the catcher and nodding or shaking his head at the signals. I turn around to look at the catcher, she's not even behind me but is off picking flowers on the side of the driveway. And while we are playing baseball, six year old boy certainly can't keep his real name, so he makes us call him Chase Utley (Phillies player pictured above). Six year old girl decides that she and I need names. She is now Rose, and I am Red. Perfect.

Chase Utley pitches for awhile, gets bored, and decides to bat. Rose is now the pitcher. Calling her Rose the pitcher would be enough for me to enjoy the festivities, but she punctuates each pitch with doing a handstand, skirt over her head, feet flailing in the air.

It's going to be a good summer.

A Time to Mourn

I know that some people won't understand why I'm writing this post, but I feel pretty strongly that it is something I should do. I will say that I want to tell it the way it happened, so I apologize for anything that sounds unpleasant.

This last Friday, Johnny and I were 6 1/2 weeks pregnant. At the end of the school day, I noticed that I was spotting. The internet research I did during my seventh period study hall seemed to roll its eyes at spotting, saying that 30% of pregnant women spot, and it's usually no big deal. After talking to my friend Laura, though, I decided to call my doctor once the bell rang for the end of school. The nurse who answered said that there were no more appointments available that day and that I should go to the emergency room if it continued. It did, so I went.

I stayed in the emergency room from 3:30 until 10 on Friday night, watching BET music videos for hours because the remote control didn't work. After blood work, ultrasounds, and poor Johnny running around trying to find us food, the OB-GYN came down to talk to us. She told us that the ultrasound was inconclusive and that there were three options: 1. The baby is still too small to be seen at 6 weeks, and the spotting is just unrelated. 2. My body is preparing to miscarry and the spotting is a sign of that. 3. The pregnancy is actually an ectopic pregnancy and has started to grow outside of my uterus, being potentially extremely harmful. The doctor then said I should go home and come back in a few days to have my blood checked again to make sure that everything was going ok.

Saturday came around, and I noted that I was still having spotting and my back had started to ache a lot more than it had the last six weeks. Johnny and I went to our scheduled dinner and game night with aforementioned Laura and husband Fred. While playing some game that I don't remember the name of, I noticed that my spotting had significantly increased. I told Johnny that I thought we needed to go to the emergency room, so Fred and Laura prayed for us, and we quickly walked to our house. Even just on the sixty second walk home, I could feel the symptoms increasing greatly, and I knew something was wrong.

By the time we got to the hospital and were quickly admitted, I was deeply worried and almost hysterical. They put me on morphine for the pain in my back, and it did almost nothing. A new OB-GYN came in and did an exam and quietly told me that I had miscarried. After waiting around for a few more hours, we were discharged around 2 in the morning and were met by a fitting soft rain as we left the hospital.

Johnny and I deeply loved the baby and had been trying for awhile to get pregnant. I want to openly mourn the loss of this life no matter how small and short it might have been. We know that we will have children in our life in the future, but this individual life was important to us, and we simply want people to know about it. Thank you to all of you who have prayed for us over these last few difficult days; we know that baby Hutson would have appreciated it too.

I was able to share the news with the majority of my students, and it has opened an interesting line of communication about the importance of life and how thankful so many of them are that their parents chose to give them life. God has been very faithful to us throughout the entire experience, and I am thankful for the opportunity to already connect with other women who have been through similar situations. We take comfort in knowing that God loves baby Hutson very much, even more than we do.

"For you created my inmost being;

you knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful,

I know that full well."

Psalm 139:13-14

Mother's Days

So Mother's Day was a few days ago, and my mother's birthday is in a week. What better time to throw the spotlight on her!

This is a good picture to prove what my mother goes through to take care of her children...and dog. Though she never had to stand outside while I went to the bathroom, my mom drove me to sewing classes, listened to me play the Titanic song on the piano over and over again, hosted tea parties for my American Girl Dolls, and still has the clay cake model that I made in fourth grade on display in her kitchen.

Unlike most teenagers, I was never embarrassed by my mother, even when she told my bible study that her Amaryllis plant looked like a certain part of the male anatomy. The only time I was slightly embarrassed was when I arrived at my Junior prom only to be greeted by my mother and father, waving wildly, dressed in 70s garb because they were attending a 70s auction next door. Needless to say I walked very quickly into the dance, dragging my date behind me.

Now that I'm older and living on my own, I'm realizing how easy my mom made keeping up a house look. I can only hope to do as good of a job as she did. My mom is a beautiful lady and has a big birthday this year. Be sure to tell her Happy Birthday on the 17th!

Love you, Mommy!