I am laying at the bottom of the stairs. My body is motionless. My neck is slightly bent, indicating just how I died. Unfolded clothes and shrieking children surround me, an empty laundry basket askew on the stairs. I can see it in my head. It flashes in my mind, a cloud of darkness to follow.
I have been putting off writing this post. Those who follow my blog have probably noticed the long absence. I just couldn't bring myself to think about it. But it was laid on my heart to share, and I am far enough on the other side of it that I can. Now.
Back in December, I gave birth to a beautiful & healthy baby boy. He has been a glorious reminder of God's love for me and quite a blessing. I would not trade him for the world. But, I came home with more than a little bundle of joy. The dark cloud of PPD (postpartum depression) accompanied us from the hospital. I have had five live births and the fifth is the first time that I have had more than the baby blues. I knew what to expect with the baby blues and was well versed in the hormonal changes a woman endures during the postpartum period. The changes in mood that follow and the uncontrollable emotions that could swallow a mom alive if left unchecked usually occur within those first few weeks home with a newborn. I had prepared myself for that and knew it was only a matter of time before I could be myself again. I could get past it because it was just a purging, a flush of the extra hormones that were no longer needed.
I had not prepared myself for the dark, gripping cloud that snatched me up about two weeks into my baby's life. It was a feeling that seemed to steal the very breath from me and my turned thoughts into negativity and anger. Rage built beneath the surface and oozed out onto those around me until they steered clear. My children knew something was wrong with mom. I would scream at them one minute over something spilled then cry because I felt ashamed at lashing out. I would burst into tears at any moment. Crying over nothing. Really. Nothing. They would try to console me with a hug or a kiss, but I just laughed through the tears. I could not convince them that everything was okay. I am not a person who cries very often so it was extremely frustrating to suddenly become a watering can! The cross examinations on safety measures made my kids wary. "Do you know what to do if something happened to me?" I would ask them fiercely. "What do you dial in an emergency?" "What is our address?" "What is our phone number?" "Do you know how to get in contact with your dad?" They could tell by the urgency in my voice and the randomness of my asking that something was up with mom. Isaac would laugh and say, "Mom, you will be fine. Nothing is going to happen."
But he was not seeing the things I was seeing.
Slice. Slice. Slice. I chopped the carrot, cutting though the hardness. Chop. Chop. Chop. The butcher knife was large and sharp. My hand shook unsteadily as I wielded it to mince the bits. It slid suddenly, puncturing my flesh, sending an arcing spray of crimson across the kitchen counter. The bleeding was wild and uncontrollable. I grabbed my wrist but the blood ran through the seams of my fingers. I could not stop it. A rusty smell invaded my nose and a metallic taste smothered my tongue. I was drowning in blood. I can see it in my head. It flashes in my mind, a cloud of darkness to follow.
The logical part of me told myself that this would pass. Things would get better. It would be okay and I would live to see another day. And if things didn't improve, then I could go to my doctor and have a prescription written up for some meds. It was considered quite normal nowadays and people didn't immediately assume you were Susan Smith. I didn't want to go on medication though. That would probably make matters worse. Antidepressants and Tiffany do not mix! I had been there before. In my senior year of high school I overdosed on Prozac and Tylenol, taking so much that I spent a week in the ICU and several more in the psych ward (but that, my friends, is another long, crazy story.) I am usually an even keeled person (minus that stint the fall of my senior year.) I am the stable one. The normal one. The person people look at and say, "That gal has got it together!" And that is what I tried to tell myself. Over and over again. But, that logical gal got smothered with a pillow about three weeks postpartum. The darkness descended.
The water was warm, close to hot, and soaked into my skin, soothing the aches of the day. The piano solo was playing on the radio and calming the anxiety that had built up from a list of endless tasks. Relaxation set in, causing my eyelids to droop. The bathtub sloped in a restful angle, allowing my back to fall naturally and encouraging a sleepy state. I fell into the depths of slumber, my body slowly sinking in the water. The bubbles filled my nose as I breathed in the warm liquid, a nightcap to end the day. I could not breathe. My lungs were filling up quickly. I could see the water rising, as though my lungs were a measuring cup. I can see it in my head. It flashes in my mind, a cloud of darkness to follow.
Though it may be disputed by those who know me, I am not crazy. I knew I needed help. I was suffering from PPD. Depression is a sinking ship but there is a life raft. It was not thrown to me though. It had been there all the time, wrapped around my waist, holding me up above the surface even when I stopped treading water. God. My glorious, wonderful God. He had not abandoned me! He was holding me in His magnificent hands, saving me from the murky depths of darkness. He heard my prayers, murmured softly at first then becoming a raging plea for shelter from the black abyss. And He calmed me. The light was there, giving me an immediate steadiness. I knew I could conquer this. It would not consume me. I promised myself that I would not need medication. I could fight this with Christ. Christ is my healer. He would shepherd me through the despair and rage I felt. When angst surfaced, I prayed. When a hint of darkness emerged, I sang worship songs. Praise God! When a negative thought tried to explode into my life, I read Scripture. Daily devotions, sermon podcasts, and biblical commentaries followed. God is sovereign! God is victorious! I enlisted the prayers of others and soon had an army of prayer warriors. Romans 8 was a balm for my soul, the word of God spoken directly to my heart: 26 Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. Almighty God knew of my need before I could stutter out a single syllable. My Lord was at work when I had not known there was even work to be done: 28 And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. The struggles I had been going through may have been difficult for me to handle. But they were not for God. And God has my back: 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. WOO HOO! Amazing! Hallelujah! AWESOME!
THE END.
At least that is the way I should end it. Because it was the end. The end of the hurt, the darkness, the anger, the rage, and the end of the DEATH THREATS. It took much courage for me to write this. I am an introvert. I like to keep my private life private. But I am also called by Christ to share my testimony. I haven't always done so. Lately, God has called for me to do so more than ever. I pray that this post helps someone who is going through any type of depression. Or any struggle. The life raft --the Giver of Life--is there.
The End.
(for real this time!) ;-D
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
The Time Has Come...Agh!
Thirteen years have passed since I gave birth to my firstborn child. Isaac Jacob Gaskin was born on Wednesday, January 27th, 1999. I am now a parent of a teenager. AGH!
It truly amazes me how fast time passes. It seems like just yesterday that I held that sweet baby boy, cleaned up the Vaseline mess he smeared all over the walls and in his HAIR, beamed with pride as he read chapter books at the age of four, cheered him on in Little League, and got on him about being nice to his sisters. Okay, that last one was yesterday. But it is scary thing to stop and realize that somehow time slipped by without my noticing his transformation. It seems like it happened overnight really. I went to bed one night, tucking him in with a kiss to waking up with a kid as tall as me rubbing sleep out of his eyes the next morning. He has the beginnings of a mustache and leg hair. He wears deodorant. His shoe size is a 10.5...in Men's! He is outgrowing clothes by leaps and bounds! And is leaping and bounding to breakfast, lunch, and dinner....and morning snack, mid-morning snack, afternoon snack, late evening snack, and when-mom-isn't-looking snack! I look at my 7 week old baby boy, Taite, and then I look at Isaac and am absolutely stunned at the transformation.
Of course the scariest realization is that next school year, Isaac will be a freshman in high school. High school. Yeah, I said high school. HIGH SCHOOL! AGH! That means dating, driving, and college tours! I did take Isaac out to the car and sat him in the driver's seat. I had him put his foot on the brake. I explained the different gears. I had him shift it into drive. Then I had him slowly take his foot off the brake. The car slowly rolled forward. Hit the brake! He did and nearly bounced out of the seat. I smiled, laughed, and nearly had a heart attack at the same time. He put it back in park, thankfully. His first driving lesson.
And only four short years until I will be really saying goodbye. College years. My heart breaks just thinking about them. After all, this is my right hand man we're talking about here. My first born child. "Don't start crying, mom!" Isaac tells me every time I say that. And then, of course, that makes me want to cry even more. Isaac may be going through that typical fog called adolescence but he is my "little man." My helper. My confidante. When things are going crazy I can look at him, make a sarcastic remark, and hear his laugh (instead of the blank stares or attitude I get from the girls.) He has helped me take care of his sisters and dotes on his baby brother. He is passionate about reading just like I am. It still amazes him that I can pick a book for him and know that he will like it, even though he always looks skeptical. And then, of course, he loves it and can't wait to get to the library to check out the sequel or another by the same author.
The time has come to teach him all those things that I haven't gotten to...like all the popular songs when I was a teen, how to tie a tie, how to love an original and not a re-make, how to appreciate old black and white movies that have (gasp!) no special effects, and how to be a gentleman. The time has come to prepare for letting him handle responsibility on his own and....the consequences when he doesn't. The time has come to prepare myself. For hard talks. For difficult emotions. For silence. For goodbyes. For a new phase of life.
AGH!
(And yes, I did cry while writing this.)
It truly amazes me how fast time passes. It seems like just yesterday that I held that sweet baby boy, cleaned up the Vaseline mess he smeared all over the walls and in his HAIR, beamed with pride as he read chapter books at the age of four, cheered him on in Little League, and got on him about being nice to his sisters. Okay, that last one was yesterday. But it is scary thing to stop and realize that somehow time slipped by without my noticing his transformation. It seems like it happened overnight really. I went to bed one night, tucking him in with a kiss to waking up with a kid as tall as me rubbing sleep out of his eyes the next morning. He has the beginnings of a mustache and leg hair. He wears deodorant. His shoe size is a 10.5...in Men's! He is outgrowing clothes by leaps and bounds! And is leaping and bounding to breakfast, lunch, and dinner....and morning snack, mid-morning snack, afternoon snack, late evening snack, and when-mom-isn't-looking snack! I look at my 7 week old baby boy, Taite, and then I look at Isaac and am absolutely stunned at the transformation.
Of course the scariest realization is that next school year, Isaac will be a freshman in high school. High school. Yeah, I said high school. HIGH SCHOOL! AGH! That means dating, driving, and college tours! I did take Isaac out to the car and sat him in the driver's seat. I had him put his foot on the brake. I explained the different gears. I had him shift it into drive. Then I had him slowly take his foot off the brake. The car slowly rolled forward. Hit the brake! He did and nearly bounced out of the seat. I smiled, laughed, and nearly had a heart attack at the same time. He put it back in park, thankfully. His first driving lesson.
And only four short years until I will be really saying goodbye. College years. My heart breaks just thinking about them. After all, this is my right hand man we're talking about here. My first born child. "Don't start crying, mom!" Isaac tells me every time I say that. And then, of course, that makes me want to cry even more. Isaac may be going through that typical fog called adolescence but he is my "little man." My helper. My confidante. When things are going crazy I can look at him, make a sarcastic remark, and hear his laugh (instead of the blank stares or attitude I get from the girls.) He has helped me take care of his sisters and dotes on his baby brother. He is passionate about reading just like I am. It still amazes him that I can pick a book for him and know that he will like it, even though he always looks skeptical. And then, of course, he loves it and can't wait to get to the library to check out the sequel or another by the same author.
The time has come to teach him all those things that I haven't gotten to...like all the popular songs when I was a teen, how to tie a tie, how to love an original and not a re-make, how to appreciate old black and white movies that have (gasp!) no special effects, and how to be a gentleman. The time has come to prepare for letting him handle responsibility on his own and....the consequences when he doesn't. The time has come to prepare myself. For hard talks. For difficult emotions. For silence. For goodbyes. For a new phase of life.
AGH!
(And yes, I did cry while writing this.)
Saturday, January 14, 2012
One Year Later...
One year ago today we closed on our house in Ohio. We have officially lived here one year. Wow. This year has gone by fast. It really only feels like 4 or 5 months have gone by. But...it has been a year! Many things have happened in this past 12 months. The church we moved up here to help has grown and I have witnessed baptisms and new creations. I have entered into a new family that has been there at the drop of a hat to help us and support us. I have gained many friends in our outstanding homeschool group who have been so encouraging and helpful. And we welcomed a new member into our family! Yeah!
Back around Christmas was when I first realized that we had almost been here a year. I was overwhelmed by the unsettling feeling of having wasted a year. Thanks to encroaching PPD (post-partum depression) I was feeling a bit lost and rather bitter about this year in Ohio. When those negative feelings settle in....watch out! Giving in to my PPD, I let my mind linger in dangerous territory (an upcoming post will be on this PPD battle) and began building up a list of things I had lost this year.
The list went something like this:
1) My land: Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to live in the beautiful countryside and have land to roam and use. We worked hard to get that place and find our little slice of paradise. Brian had his hunting and I had my beautiful solitude. Tierney had room for horses and we could be self-sustaining. We lost all that.
2) My family: Having parents near never seemed so very crucial until I found myself pregnant and being without my mother during a time that was so near to both of our hearts. Very difficult. Also, having my parents struggle with health issues and not being able to go and give them the same love and support. Frustrating.
3) Friends: The majority of our friends live in Kentucky. Friends from our youth, friends from adulthood. Enough said.
4) Establishment: When we moved from Louisville out to the country, we had to re-establish ourselves in the community. Being in a small town atmosphere where everyone knows everyone it took nearly ten years, but we had made it. Moving to Ohio....we had to re-establish ourselves all over again.
5) Our vacation: Because of the move we didn't have the money to take a vacation. This year we won't have the money because we are going to Haiti instead. I so miss Folly Beach!
6) Our Retirement: We cashed out Brian's IRA to help with our move. We currently have $0 money saved for retirement. A very daunting feeling!
7)The lake: Since I was 6 months old, I have gone camping at Barren River Lake. We used to spend weeks there in the summer and it is a family tradition that we wanted to continue with our own children. We own a trailer and a boat. But with being so very far from there, we moved our boat to Lake Cumberland and are thinking about selling the trailer. This past summer was the first summer I did not go to Barren. And we only took out the boat twice. Gone is that tradition.
8) Writing: I cannot say exactly why I have not been writing but in the past year, I have neglected my writing. Really. I know this is the most shocking to those who know me well since I am known for using napkins, receipts, even kids coloring pages to write on when those creative juices get flowing. I have always been a writer...well, at least since 4th grade when I made my first book entitled, "Michelle's Life," that was written on wide-ruled paper and bound by yarn. (I still have this, btw.) But, it was like a switch was flipped. I could not muster up the will to write. Believe me, I tried. I sat there with pen in hand waiting. I bought one of those stupid books with writing prompts and activities. I prayed, because I felt like I was wasting God's gift to me. I dug out projects that I had left abandoned but no inspiration came. When I forced the writing, it was lame and I tossed it. Ultimate loss and frustration.
9) Brian's career: Brian switched his major from education to Computer IT (sorry, I can't recall the technical position). He had tried to make his dream of being a full-time football coach mesh with this new change of locale but the local universities did not offer exactly what he would need to do so without him having to take a step back. So, he gave up that dream and decided that coaching part-time would have to be good enough. I think this broke my heart the most, though I never told him so. (Sorry, Brian.)
Having said all that, it is obvious I had built up a pretty strong list for being bitter. Look at all I had lost. I allowed that rage to boil up inside of me which oozed out on others around me. I was drowning in self-loathing. I broke down in prayer when I could take no more. An amazing thing happened then: God revealed something very crucial that I had forgotten. He reminded me that I had given my life to Him. All of it. Not just the parts that were convenient or I liked least or the ones that fit neatly into my schedule. And while this is required of a true follower of Christ, I was reminded by Him that this is what I prayed for. I remembered, then, praying to be a Living Sacrifice. I told Him that I would give up all for Him. Suddenly that list did not seem like much at all. I wanted to be rid of the familiar. I wanted to be rid of my comforts. Because by doing so, I would be closer to Him. I could bring Him glory. I could serve my purpose!
Since then, I have started a new list. A list of things that I can lose during this next year.
It goes something like this: 1) bitterness, 2) pride, 3) anger, 4) selfishness, 5) material possessions, etc....
Back around Christmas was when I first realized that we had almost been here a year. I was overwhelmed by the unsettling feeling of having wasted a year. Thanks to encroaching PPD (post-partum depression) I was feeling a bit lost and rather bitter about this year in Ohio. When those negative feelings settle in....watch out! Giving in to my PPD, I let my mind linger in dangerous territory (an upcoming post will be on this PPD battle) and began building up a list of things I had lost this year.
The list went something like this:
1) My land: Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to live in the beautiful countryside and have land to roam and use. We worked hard to get that place and find our little slice of paradise. Brian had his hunting and I had my beautiful solitude. Tierney had room for horses and we could be self-sustaining. We lost all that.
2) My family: Having parents near never seemed so very crucial until I found myself pregnant and being without my mother during a time that was so near to both of our hearts. Very difficult. Also, having my parents struggle with health issues and not being able to go and give them the same love and support. Frustrating.
3) Friends: The majority of our friends live in Kentucky. Friends from our youth, friends from adulthood. Enough said.
4) Establishment: When we moved from Louisville out to the country, we had to re-establish ourselves in the community. Being in a small town atmosphere where everyone knows everyone it took nearly ten years, but we had made it. Moving to Ohio....we had to re-establish ourselves all over again.
5) Our vacation: Because of the move we didn't have the money to take a vacation. This year we won't have the money because we are going to Haiti instead. I so miss Folly Beach!
6) Our Retirement: We cashed out Brian's IRA to help with our move. We currently have $0 money saved for retirement. A very daunting feeling!
7)The lake: Since I was 6 months old, I have gone camping at Barren River Lake. We used to spend weeks there in the summer and it is a family tradition that we wanted to continue with our own children. We own a trailer and a boat. But with being so very far from there, we moved our boat to Lake Cumberland and are thinking about selling the trailer. This past summer was the first summer I did not go to Barren. And we only took out the boat twice. Gone is that tradition.
8) Writing: I cannot say exactly why I have not been writing but in the past year, I have neglected my writing. Really. I know this is the most shocking to those who know me well since I am known for using napkins, receipts, even kids coloring pages to write on when those creative juices get flowing. I have always been a writer...well, at least since 4th grade when I made my first book entitled, "Michelle's Life," that was written on wide-ruled paper and bound by yarn. (I still have this, btw.) But, it was like a switch was flipped. I could not muster up the will to write. Believe me, I tried. I sat there with pen in hand waiting. I bought one of those stupid books with writing prompts and activities. I prayed, because I felt like I was wasting God's gift to me. I dug out projects that I had left abandoned but no inspiration came. When I forced the writing, it was lame and I tossed it. Ultimate loss and frustration.
9) Brian's career: Brian switched his major from education to Computer IT (sorry, I can't recall the technical position). He had tried to make his dream of being a full-time football coach mesh with this new change of locale but the local universities did not offer exactly what he would need to do so without him having to take a step back. So, he gave up that dream and decided that coaching part-time would have to be good enough. I think this broke my heart the most, though I never told him so. (Sorry, Brian.)
Having said all that, it is obvious I had built up a pretty strong list for being bitter. Look at all I had lost. I allowed that rage to boil up inside of me which oozed out on others around me. I was drowning in self-loathing. I broke down in prayer when I could take no more. An amazing thing happened then: God revealed something very crucial that I had forgotten. He reminded me that I had given my life to Him. All of it. Not just the parts that were convenient or I liked least or the ones that fit neatly into my schedule. And while this is required of a true follower of Christ, I was reminded by Him that this is what I prayed for. I remembered, then, praying to be a Living Sacrifice. I told Him that I would give up all for Him. Suddenly that list did not seem like much at all. I wanted to be rid of the familiar. I wanted to be rid of my comforts. Because by doing so, I would be closer to Him. I could bring Him glory. I could serve my purpose!
Since then, I have started a new list. A list of things that I can lose during this next year.
It goes something like this: 1) bitterness, 2) pride, 3) anger, 4) selfishness, 5) material possessions, etc....
Friday, December 16, 2011
Ready or Not, Here I Come!
Wednesday, December 7th, 2011
I woke up in a wet bed. It was just after 8:30am and I was pleased to have been able to sleep in that morning. I wasn't so pleased by how I was awoken. My water had broken. I know many women doubt when that happens, wondering if they had peed instead, but I knew exactly what it was. I slowly climbed out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, where more amniotic fluid trickled out. I began the process of preparing myself for the day...brushing my teeth, washing my face and adding a small bit of makeup, brushing my hair, dressing myself, etc. I did all of this while sitting down on the closed toilet seat. Every time I stood up, there would be another gush and I would have to change the sanitary pad. Blah! So, I sent out the calls to let everyone know what was going on and Brian made his way home from work. Then, hunched over (walking that way seemed to prevent any gushes) I woke the girls and got them dressed. With their help I finished packing my hospital bag. Luckily, there wasn't much left to put in there. I sent the girls downstairs to eat breakfast while they waited for help to arrive. We had friends from church coming over to watch the kids.
Sitting there waiting for Brian to arrive I could only feel a bit of disbelief. After all, this was happening a full two weeks earlier than my due date. That had never happened in the course of my previous four pregnancies. All my other babies were either late or induced a week early or right on time (Lena on her due date.) Of course I realize that the due date is set right in the middle of when the baby could arrive. Two weeks earlier or two weeks later was not unusual. But for me, it certainly wasn't expected. I had been nesting, so I had the majority of things done and ready. We didn't have a car seat, though, since we ordered a new one online and were waiting for it to be delivered (it arrived that very day.) And the bassinet hadn't been set up, but that wasn't time consuming so Brian could easily assemble it later. We were ready by most people's standards.
But, as you know from my last post, I wasn't. Emotionally I wasn't prepared for the baby to arrive. I wanted more time. The little one inside of me had other ideas, however. It was like he was calling out, "Ready or not! Here I come!"
The hospital is literally only five minutes from our house so there was no mad dash to get there like there was when we lived in Kentucky. We had toured the hospital that very Sunday before so we knew exactly where to go and what to do. At the Labor and Delivery desk we were checked in and I was taken to a room, where I was informed that they wouldn't usually do so without thoroughly confirming my bag of waters had broken but since this was my fifth child they didn't want to take any chances. As if I wouldn't know by now, after four live births, how this went! Still, they had to check to be sure even though I had just discarded a sanitary pad full of clear amniotic fluid. According to the nurse, doctors give them the third degree so they have to do the same to us to make sure before calling them into the hospital. Having that confirmed, I went through the normal routine of getting an IV, putting external monitors on for the baby and my contractions, which I was having none at the time. I am one of the 5% of women who have their water break before contractions begin. The same thing happened when I had Lena. The doctor swooped in shortly after and checked me out, ordered pitocin to get the contractions going, and said she would return after lunch unless needed earlier. I settled in for a long day.
Lunchtime arrived and I had not dilated as much as the doctor would have liked so my pitocin level was upped. I hadn't really felt much of the contractions though I was 4cm. About thirty minutes later the contractions were rolling in big and strong. It was still nothing I couldn't handle, though. The nurse asked if I wanted an epidural. I declined at the moment, thinking I could hold off until I was uncomfortable. I enjoy witnessing the birth of my children relaxed and not struggling to control the pain. Having given birth with and without complete pain relief, I knew having an epidural would provide me with a better opportunity to take in the first few moments of my child's life.
Then the back pain kicked in. I had always heard that back pain was horrible. Now, I knew it to be true. There was no relief from this pain. It was constant and consumed my back, hips, and radiated down my legs. I had no rest between contractions. At 5cm, I asked if I could get that epidural. I had always waited until 8cm before but the back pain took it to a whole new level. My request was added to the list of waiting mothers.
I huffed and puffed and was soon at 6cm. No epidural. I squirmed and moaned and made it to 7cm. Still no epidural. As the urge to push set in, I knew in the back of my head that my window for pain relief had passed. I was at 8cm and quickly nearly 9. The nurse said I could try to hold off by cutting the pitocin or I could go for it and she would up the pitocin. I was in mid contraction so I told her "I don't care!" LOL She cut the pitocin. It didn't matter, this baby was on his way. "Ready or not! Here I come!" The doctor arrived just in time. Nurses hurried to set up delivery equipment. I tried not to push until they were ready. An EMT student asked permission to watch the birth. At that point, I really could care less. All I wanted to do was to push! Finally, it was time to get the baby out. Push! Push! Push! The pushing was not nearly as bad as the back labor. I did tear. For the first time, I had broken blood vessels all over my face and neck from pushing. But that little baby boy came out and was absolute perfection.
Taite Dowell Gaskin was born at 4:24pm weighing in at 8.67lbs and was 21.5 inches long. I was relieved that he had decided to arrive before it was estimated. I did not want to have a ten pounder. I was relieved and I was....exhausted. I had been pushing with my eyes clamped shut so I did not get to see his birth as I would have liked (in a mirror.) I was so tired afterward, I struggled to keep my eyes open to cuddle with him, answer questions from the doctor and nurse, and watch as he underwent the Apgar test. He passed with a 9, of course. Ah, labor is aptly named!
Having been home a week today, I have realized that my schedule is flexible. I can adapt to this new arrival much easier than I expected. I have realized that having a newborn is probably the easiest stage of child rearing. And, I have realized that no matter how many children I have, there is still room in my heart for another.
I woke up in a wet bed. It was just after 8:30am and I was pleased to have been able to sleep in that morning. I wasn't so pleased by how I was awoken. My water had broken. I know many women doubt when that happens, wondering if they had peed instead, but I knew exactly what it was. I slowly climbed out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, where more amniotic fluid trickled out. I began the process of preparing myself for the day...brushing my teeth, washing my face and adding a small bit of makeup, brushing my hair, dressing myself, etc. I did all of this while sitting down on the closed toilet seat. Every time I stood up, there would be another gush and I would have to change the sanitary pad. Blah! So, I sent out the calls to let everyone know what was going on and Brian made his way home from work. Then, hunched over (walking that way seemed to prevent any gushes) I woke the girls and got them dressed. With their help I finished packing my hospital bag. Luckily, there wasn't much left to put in there. I sent the girls downstairs to eat breakfast while they waited for help to arrive. We had friends from church coming over to watch the kids.
Sitting there waiting for Brian to arrive I could only feel a bit of disbelief. After all, this was happening a full two weeks earlier than my due date. That had never happened in the course of my previous four pregnancies. All my other babies were either late or induced a week early or right on time (Lena on her due date.) Of course I realize that the due date is set right in the middle of when the baby could arrive. Two weeks earlier or two weeks later was not unusual. But for me, it certainly wasn't expected. I had been nesting, so I had the majority of things done and ready. We didn't have a car seat, though, since we ordered a new one online and were waiting for it to be delivered (it arrived that very day.) And the bassinet hadn't been set up, but that wasn't time consuming so Brian could easily assemble it later. We were ready by most people's standards.
But, as you know from my last post, I wasn't. Emotionally I wasn't prepared for the baby to arrive. I wanted more time. The little one inside of me had other ideas, however. It was like he was calling out, "Ready or not! Here I come!"
The hospital is literally only five minutes from our house so there was no mad dash to get there like there was when we lived in Kentucky. We had toured the hospital that very Sunday before so we knew exactly where to go and what to do. At the Labor and Delivery desk we were checked in and I was taken to a room, where I was informed that they wouldn't usually do so without thoroughly confirming my bag of waters had broken but since this was my fifth child they didn't want to take any chances. As if I wouldn't know by now, after four live births, how this went! Still, they had to check to be sure even though I had just discarded a sanitary pad full of clear amniotic fluid. According to the nurse, doctors give them the third degree so they have to do the same to us to make sure before calling them into the hospital. Having that confirmed, I went through the normal routine of getting an IV, putting external monitors on for the baby and my contractions, which I was having none at the time. I am one of the 5% of women who have their water break before contractions begin. The same thing happened when I had Lena. The doctor swooped in shortly after and checked me out, ordered pitocin to get the contractions going, and said she would return after lunch unless needed earlier. I settled in for a long day.
Lunchtime arrived and I had not dilated as much as the doctor would have liked so my pitocin level was upped. I hadn't really felt much of the contractions though I was 4cm. About thirty minutes later the contractions were rolling in big and strong. It was still nothing I couldn't handle, though. The nurse asked if I wanted an epidural. I declined at the moment, thinking I could hold off until I was uncomfortable. I enjoy witnessing the birth of my children relaxed and not struggling to control the pain. Having given birth with and without complete pain relief, I knew having an epidural would provide me with a better opportunity to take in the first few moments of my child's life.
Then the back pain kicked in. I had always heard that back pain was horrible. Now, I knew it to be true. There was no relief from this pain. It was constant and consumed my back, hips, and radiated down my legs. I had no rest between contractions. At 5cm, I asked if I could get that epidural. I had always waited until 8cm before but the back pain took it to a whole new level. My request was added to the list of waiting mothers.
I huffed and puffed and was soon at 6cm. No epidural. I squirmed and moaned and made it to 7cm. Still no epidural. As the urge to push set in, I knew in the back of my head that my window for pain relief had passed. I was at 8cm and quickly nearly 9. The nurse said I could try to hold off by cutting the pitocin or I could go for it and she would up the pitocin. I was in mid contraction so I told her "I don't care!" LOL She cut the pitocin. It didn't matter, this baby was on his way. "Ready or not! Here I come!" The doctor arrived just in time. Nurses hurried to set up delivery equipment. I tried not to push until they were ready. An EMT student asked permission to watch the birth. At that point, I really could care less. All I wanted to do was to push! Finally, it was time to get the baby out. Push! Push! Push! The pushing was not nearly as bad as the back labor. I did tear. For the first time, I had broken blood vessels all over my face and neck from pushing. But that little baby boy came out and was absolute perfection.
Taite Dowell Gaskin was born at 4:24pm weighing in at 8.67lbs and was 21.5 inches long. I was relieved that he had decided to arrive before it was estimated. I did not want to have a ten pounder. I was relieved and I was....exhausted. I had been pushing with my eyes clamped shut so I did not get to see his birth as I would have liked (in a mirror.) I was so tired afterward, I struggled to keep my eyes open to cuddle with him, answer questions from the doctor and nurse, and watch as he underwent the Apgar test. He passed with a 9, of course. Ah, labor is aptly named!
Having been home a week today, I have realized that my schedule is flexible. I can adapt to this new arrival much easier than I expected. I have realized that having a newborn is probably the easiest stage of child rearing. And, I have realized that no matter how many children I have, there is still room in my heart for another.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Anticipation
I have 3 weeks to go until I am due to give birth to my fifth child. At this point, most pregnant women are begging their doctors to induce. Or they take the induction in their own hands by drinking castor oil, going on long walks or bumpy drives, or by using the method that got them into the situation in the first place. ;-D
I, however, am not ready for this pregnancy to be over. Surprised?
I am a bit overwhelmed that this pregnancy has gone by so fast! I haven't had the chance to really sit down and think about this new child or the way this little one will fit into our family. There is a moment that every pregnant woman has where they can sit and sigh and imagine themselves cuddling their new arrival. It may happen when shopping for the layette or while putting the tiny onesies and newborn diapers away in the nursery. It may happen when they see that ultrasound photo for the first time or feel the baby move. And while I have done all of the above activities, I have not had this emotional moment.
Why not, you ask? The answer is very simple. I have four other kids. That I homeschool. And a Girl Scout troop (that I get NO help with.) And co-op, church, mission trip planning, outreach planning, cleaning, laundry, cooking, couponing, budgeting, yard work, etc. etc. etc. (input a mental image of Yul Brynner.) Not that I don't enjoy many of these activities but I do not get a break. Most nights I fall into bed exhausted and am already thinking about what is in store for the next day. I feel guilty for not calling my family and friends back in Kentucky often enough. But it really is hard to carry on a real conversation while I have kids running underfoot, the washing machine running in the background and I am struggling to see the stairs as I carry up a laundry basket and balance the phone between my ear and shoulder. Even if I lock myself in the bathroom for a moment of sanity or a business call, there will inevitably be a child crying at the top of their lungs outside the door, one yelling up the laundry chute, and another being suspiciously quiet down in the kitchen (sneaking a cookie...or dumping the brand new box of cereal all over the floor I just cleaned.) That is just normal life in our household. It is never dull or boring. And this is the atmosphere I thrive in. At the end of the day I have accomplished what most people take weeks or months to do. I usually have a clean house and happy children and a project or assignment of some sort completed.
I am productive (and reproductive.) But, the one thing that I often put at the bottom of my to-do list is: ME!
If I make the list at all. I know this is a chronic illness with many mothers. I know I am not a lone soldier in the army of child rearing. And with my past pregnancies, I had that moment to savor the new little one. I had time to think about personality and whether this child would look like me or Brian. I had a moment to tenderly hang baby clothes and to marvel about the creation I held inside my womb. But this time, I have hurriedly painted the nursery, washed the clothes without a thought to the wearer, and went down the get-ready-for-baby checklist methodically. Preparing for baby was just one more thing to fit in the day and check off the list. There were no naps to dream about little hands and feet. Baths were another opportunity to get my reading done and not a relaxing time to daydream about how sweet it would be to embrace a new child. Sad, I know. My practicality can be a disadvantage, for sure.
I cleaned and reorganized my bedroom closet this week (trying to make room for the Christmas presents I have to stash...and, yes, my shopping is done.) When I couldn't reach the top shelf because my belly was in the way I became rather frustrated and wished that I could just detach the bump for the time being and clean! Crazy, I know. I keep trudging along, trying to get things done and prepare. I laugh at the pregnancy books and apps that talk about resting and relaxing in preparation for labor day. I marvel at moms who talk about the naps they took while pregnant (and some have as many kids as I do...think homeschool co-op.) So, while I have been busy with all of these things, I have missed out on one of the most amazing things! I have missed out on the development and growth of my own baby. Pretty impressive since it is inside my own body, huh?
That is why I am not ready for this baby boy to arrive. I haven't had my emotional moment to prepare my heart. I haven't taken a deep breath of the irresistible smell of baby. I haven't given serious thought to what this new little man will have in my life. Yes, there will be more things to add to my to-do list, but I have not given any thought to the incredible joy he will bring. And that, my friends, is why I do not want these last 3 weeks to go by. I want to hit the pause button to absorb this moment of maternity (& most likely my last one.) Instead of three seconds, I want these last weeks to feel like 3 years! I want to note each movement inside my womb. I want to stare at the baby crib and sigh in anticipation of the little one that will soon fill it. And I want to fill out the baby book with a note just for this new member of the Gaskin family.
Labor day will come sooner than I would like, I know. I will get my day of rest then. And I fully plan on focusing intently on that tiny bundle that it brings. A day for just the two of us. Ah! The anticipation!
I, however, am not ready for this pregnancy to be over. Surprised?
I am a bit overwhelmed that this pregnancy has gone by so fast! I haven't had the chance to really sit down and think about this new child or the way this little one will fit into our family. There is a moment that every pregnant woman has where they can sit and sigh and imagine themselves cuddling their new arrival. It may happen when shopping for the layette or while putting the tiny onesies and newborn diapers away in the nursery. It may happen when they see that ultrasound photo for the first time or feel the baby move. And while I have done all of the above activities, I have not had this emotional moment.
Why not, you ask? The answer is very simple. I have four other kids. That I homeschool. And a Girl Scout troop (that I get NO help with.) And co-op, church, mission trip planning, outreach planning, cleaning, laundry, cooking, couponing, budgeting, yard work, etc. etc. etc. (input a mental image of Yul Brynner.) Not that I don't enjoy many of these activities but I do not get a break. Most nights I fall into bed exhausted and am already thinking about what is in store for the next day. I feel guilty for not calling my family and friends back in Kentucky often enough. But it really is hard to carry on a real conversation while I have kids running underfoot, the washing machine running in the background and I am struggling to see the stairs as I carry up a laundry basket and balance the phone between my ear and shoulder. Even if I lock myself in the bathroom for a moment of sanity or a business call, there will inevitably be a child crying at the top of their lungs outside the door, one yelling up the laundry chute, and another being suspiciously quiet down in the kitchen (sneaking a cookie...or dumping the brand new box of cereal all over the floor I just cleaned.) That is just normal life in our household. It is never dull or boring. And this is the atmosphere I thrive in. At the end of the day I have accomplished what most people take weeks or months to do. I usually have a clean house and happy children and a project or assignment of some sort completed.
I am productive (and reproductive.) But, the one thing that I often put at the bottom of my to-do list is: ME!
If I make the list at all. I know this is a chronic illness with many mothers. I know I am not a lone soldier in the army of child rearing. And with my past pregnancies, I had that moment to savor the new little one. I had time to think about personality and whether this child would look like me or Brian. I had a moment to tenderly hang baby clothes and to marvel about the creation I held inside my womb. But this time, I have hurriedly painted the nursery, washed the clothes without a thought to the wearer, and went down the get-ready-for-baby checklist methodically. Preparing for baby was just one more thing to fit in the day and check off the list. There were no naps to dream about little hands and feet. Baths were another opportunity to get my reading done and not a relaxing time to daydream about how sweet it would be to embrace a new child. Sad, I know. My practicality can be a disadvantage, for sure.
I cleaned and reorganized my bedroom closet this week (trying to make room for the Christmas presents I have to stash...and, yes, my shopping is done.) When I couldn't reach the top shelf because my belly was in the way I became rather frustrated and wished that I could just detach the bump for the time being and clean! Crazy, I know. I keep trudging along, trying to get things done and prepare. I laugh at the pregnancy books and apps that talk about resting and relaxing in preparation for labor day. I marvel at moms who talk about the naps they took while pregnant (and some have as many kids as I do...think homeschool co-op.) So, while I have been busy with all of these things, I have missed out on one of the most amazing things! I have missed out on the development and growth of my own baby. Pretty impressive since it is inside my own body, huh?
That is why I am not ready for this baby boy to arrive. I haven't had my emotional moment to prepare my heart. I haven't taken a deep breath of the irresistible smell of baby. I haven't given serious thought to what this new little man will have in my life. Yes, there will be more things to add to my to-do list, but I have not given any thought to the incredible joy he will bring. And that, my friends, is why I do not want these last 3 weeks to go by. I want to hit the pause button to absorb this moment of maternity (& most likely my last one.) Instead of three seconds, I want these last weeks to feel like 3 years! I want to note each movement inside my womb. I want to stare at the baby crib and sigh in anticipation of the little one that will soon fill it. And I want to fill out the baby book with a note just for this new member of the Gaskin family.
Labor day will come sooner than I would like, I know. I will get my day of rest then. And I fully plan on focusing intently on that tiny bundle that it brings. A day for just the two of us. Ah! The anticipation!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Why we do not celebrate Halloween
Stop and think for a moment: What does Halloween celebrate? Many people would reply commercialism. Others are probably still scratching their heads. If you look at the history of the holiday, it is a pagan holiday. While our reasons for not celebrating Halloween can be tied to both of those explanations, it is not the core reason why we have chosen as a family not to indulge in a very "worldy" holiday.
Four years ago, we decided to stop celebrating Halloween. Brian and I had grown up in families where the holiday was partaken just as most American families do. We wore costumes as children and went trick or treating. We harbored large stashes of candy and went to scary houses. When we had kids of our own, we continued with the tradition without stopping to really think if it was something that would benefit our children. And so, one year when I was trying to make costumes and beat the rush for a store bought one, I paused to analyze that very question. Why do we celebrate Halloween? I could think of no good reason other than it was what we had always done. And being my anal self, I made a list of pros and cons. Surprisingly, there were more cons than pros!
So, here are some of the reasons we have decided to spend time together as a family rather than celebrate Halloween (in no particular order):
1) It is rude and greedy. Before you get your panties in a bunch, just hear me out. It teaches our children bad manners. What other time would demanding something from someone at their house or threatening them with a prank be acceptable? Yes, everyone does it that one night. But does it make it right? I did not want to be counterproductive to the values I was teaching my children the other 364 days of the year. Nor did I want to indulge their naturally greedy natures by telling them that collecting loads of candy was okay because it was Halloween. They already have everything they need. I want my children to be content with what they have and not constantly striving to get more ____________(you can fill in the blank.) I have had some argue that it helps them use their good manners because they have to take turns getting candy and they say "please" and "thank you." I guess that makes it okay to rob a bank as long as you wait in line and ask nicely for the money. Oh, yeah, don't forget to say "thank you" as you run to the getaway car. ;-)
2) It isn't healthy. Loads of sugar and fat. Need I say more?
3)It doesn't glorify God. As many of you know, I am a Christian. Glorifying God is very important to our family. This holiday can go against many of the things God has laid out for us to follow (see greed, above) and it allows fear into our hearts and minds. How many people watch scary movies or go to "haunted" houses for the thrill? God tells us to guard our hearts from things that will make us susceptible to Satan. Allowing fears into our hearts and minds that were not there before creates a weakness in us. It opens another door for Satan to enter. Many see it as harmless, but my job as a mother is to protect my children and to make them feel secure. Am I doing my job if I encourage these fears to take root in their lives? The world is a scary enough place without creating fear for the fun of it.
4) It takes away from family time. Confusing, I know, since many people associate Halloween with family time, but how much quality family time are you spending together when you are out trick or treating? Not much. Our family has taken this holiday and reserved it for some real quality time. When we lived in Kentucky, we would gather at my mom's house for a family game night. We would eat chili and play different board games together. This year, we will not be able to spend time at my mom's house, but we are planning on eating a nice meal together and then spending a few hours either playing games or going to see a kid-friendly movie.
Halloween isn't something that we celebrate anymore, but that doesn't mean we are against those who do. When we decided to not celebrate, I gave all my Halloween decorations to a good friend who loves the holiday. This year, we served at a community Halloween festival for young kids with our church. (God works everywhere. Even Halloween events.) Everyone has their reasons to celebrate or not, and I know that we are in the minority. These are our reasons and we do not push them on others. Each family must make their own decisions on what they celebrate as a family and why.
Though...I would like to print this to pass out to all the adults who look at me like I am a monster when I calmly tell them that we do not celebrate Halloween. I must be terrifying in their eyes. ;-D
So, Happy last day of October! I hope it is a safe and happy one... whatever you do!
Four years ago, we decided to stop celebrating Halloween. Brian and I had grown up in families where the holiday was partaken just as most American families do. We wore costumes as children and went trick or treating. We harbored large stashes of candy and went to scary houses. When we had kids of our own, we continued with the tradition without stopping to really think if it was something that would benefit our children. And so, one year when I was trying to make costumes and beat the rush for a store bought one, I paused to analyze that very question. Why do we celebrate Halloween? I could think of no good reason other than it was what we had always done. And being my anal self, I made a list of pros and cons. Surprisingly, there were more cons than pros!
So, here are some of the reasons we have decided to spend time together as a family rather than celebrate Halloween (in no particular order):
1) It is rude and greedy. Before you get your panties in a bunch, just hear me out. It teaches our children bad manners. What other time would demanding something from someone at their house or threatening them with a prank be acceptable? Yes, everyone does it that one night. But does it make it right? I did not want to be counterproductive to the values I was teaching my children the other 364 days of the year. Nor did I want to indulge their naturally greedy natures by telling them that collecting loads of candy was okay because it was Halloween. They already have everything they need. I want my children to be content with what they have and not constantly striving to get more ____________(you can fill in the blank.) I have had some argue that it helps them use their good manners because they have to take turns getting candy and they say "please" and "thank you." I guess that makes it okay to rob a bank as long as you wait in line and ask nicely for the money. Oh, yeah, don't forget to say "thank you" as you run to the getaway car. ;-)
2) It isn't healthy. Loads of sugar and fat. Need I say more?
3)It doesn't glorify God. As many of you know, I am a Christian. Glorifying God is very important to our family. This holiday can go against many of the things God has laid out for us to follow (see greed, above) and it allows fear into our hearts and minds. How many people watch scary movies or go to "haunted" houses for the thrill? God tells us to guard our hearts from things that will make us susceptible to Satan. Allowing fears into our hearts and minds that were not there before creates a weakness in us. It opens another door for Satan to enter. Many see it as harmless, but my job as a mother is to protect my children and to make them feel secure. Am I doing my job if I encourage these fears to take root in their lives? The world is a scary enough place without creating fear for the fun of it.
4) It takes away from family time. Confusing, I know, since many people associate Halloween with family time, but how much quality family time are you spending together when you are out trick or treating? Not much. Our family has taken this holiday and reserved it for some real quality time. When we lived in Kentucky, we would gather at my mom's house for a family game night. We would eat chili and play different board games together. This year, we will not be able to spend time at my mom's house, but we are planning on eating a nice meal together and then spending a few hours either playing games or going to see a kid-friendly movie.
Halloween isn't something that we celebrate anymore, but that doesn't mean we are against those who do. When we decided to not celebrate, I gave all my Halloween decorations to a good friend who loves the holiday. This year, we served at a community Halloween festival for young kids with our church. (God works everywhere. Even Halloween events.) Everyone has their reasons to celebrate or not, and I know that we are in the minority. These are our reasons and we do not push them on others. Each family must make their own decisions on what they celebrate as a family and why.
Though...I would like to print this to pass out to all the adults who look at me like I am a monster when I calmly tell them that we do not celebrate Halloween. I must be terrifying in their eyes. ;-D
So, Happy last day of October! I hope it is a safe and happy one... whatever you do!
Monday, October 10, 2011
The Oakwood Update
Okay, I started this blog to keep everyone apprised of how our move and transition to Oakwood was going. I know that some of my posts have not been about that but rather little tidbits going on in my life or things that God has laid on my heart to share. So, I just wanted to let everyone know how things are going in the neighborhood and perhaps in the family altogether.
Oakwood football: Brian has been coaching Oakwood football at the middle school level. The position was open at the right time and since it is within walking distance, he applied. He enjoys it, though it is more frustrating than working with those in high school (yeah, I was surprised to hear that too.) He introduced me to a few of his players the other day. They aren't exactly what you would call the "football type." But Brian said they may not be big but they were the "Mean Seventeen." I had to laugh when one of the boys said, "Yeah, but we aren't mean." So...I guess that means they are just seventeen of them. Either way, he is enjoying the season and he is getting paid for it. I am glad as well. I cannot imagine a season when he isn't coaching and the thought of him not getting to this fall kinda made me sad. Plus, the middle school season isn't as intense or as long as high school, which is perfect since we are busy preparing for the upcoming arrival of baby #5.
So, baby #5: In case you haven't heard, we are expecting our 5th child in December. A baby boy this time! I have created a website to keep everyone posted on what is happening in that area of our family growth. Check it out here: Gaskin Baby #5 website We have been preparing by switching around bedrooms and collecting much needed and appreciated hand me downs from friends and family. Thanks so much to everyone who has blessed us with a gift for our new baby boy!
Settling in: I am happy to say that I only have about 6 more boxes to unpack! Yeah! Finally! As we were switching the girls' bedrooms around (Tierney and Lena now share a room while Maebry and our new baby will share the other) I finally unpacked the remaining boxes of girls' stuff. The girls were super stoked about seeing toys they hadn't played with since last December. Maebry would squeal every time I opened a new box. It was very exciting for them....and a bit overwhelming for me. I have decided we will be making a healthy donation to the Goodwill in the next few weeks. BTW, Isaac is relieved that he will not be sharing his bedroom even though this baby is a boy.
My list of to-do projects around the house are being slowly whittled down and I find joy in marking each one off my list. I have finally decided on what to do with the dining room but probably won't tackle that project until next spring. We are also selling various items on Craigslist now (it is so easy to use!) and getting rid of the excess furniture we have.
Oakwood-- the neighborhood: Oakwood has started to grow on us. It is hard to be too disgruntled when there are so many amenities available.We relaxed at the pool over the summer. I scored over 70 new books at the community wide book swap. Isaac is still taking guitar lessons, Lena is signed up for another ballet class, and Tierney will be playing basketball in the local rec league. Isaac has signed up for basketball in the neighboring community of Kettering where the league is bigger. The neighbors have settled down (or perhaps we just deal with them better) since school has resumed. The changing leaves have turned the area into a very picturesque place to reside. We went to the Fall Festival this past weekend and enjoyed a hayride, face painting, games, bouncy houses, pumpkin painting, doughnut eating contest, and the playground. It was all FREE! (Taxpayer "free," of course.) Oakwood may have a "snobbish" reputation, but for the most part, the people we have met are very friendly.
Girl Scouts: Our troop started meeting in August, and under my new leadership have an organized and productive time. The girls have commented on how they enjoy the new format better than last year (when chaos reigned) and now have a big part in planning what they do at each meeting. The only issue we are having is parent support. I have been left alone with the girls at two meetings now and that is unacceptable. I sent out a parent rotation list for volunteers to sign up to help. Only three parents have said they would help. If the issue of support continues, I will be resigning as leader. Not only is it against Girl Scout policy that I be alone with a bunch of girls, but it is also unsafe. If there was an emergency, it would create a dilemma of getting help, etc. I am enjoying spending time with the troop so hopefully this issue can be resolved.
Homeschooling: We started our homeschool year in August. It has been going great despite the fact that we are slightly behind schedule. I have been more flexible with our schedule though, and we have gone on more field trips and outings this year. It is only October and we have gone on 4 field trips! Of course, I am an overachiever so what we do accomplish will still be about triple what they would get in public school.
We have also enrolled in a co-op. The kids love it and have made many new friends. Isaac's classes are speech, finances, chemistry, and computer programming. Tierney is taking P.E., Devotionals, Art Appreciation & Science (I teach of few of these.) Lena is in a pre-school class and is always excited to attend. Maebry is in a toddler class and brings home many craft projects too. I have really savored the chance to get to know other moms in the group and truly appreciate the parent enrichment portions that are provided when we aren't teaching. We get brunch and a speaker comes in to uplift us in God's Word and encourage us with practical advice for homeschooling issues. I feel that we all have grown in a positive way since we joined this group! And, having 4 kids seems to be the norm! In fact, the majority of families there have 4-5 children each. That is a considerable number since there are 56 families! Beware: Homeschoolers shall inherit the earth! (Or rejoice, as the case may be!)
Church: I saved the most exciting part for last! Renovation Church is why we moved to Ohio. Yes, it was God's command, but this inspiring church was the reason. Many people think of church as a building. We can take that out of the equation here, though. We do not own a building. We do not have a permanent place, really. Every Sunday the curtains, the stage, the instruments, the lights, the sound equipment all go up. Gymnastic equipment is removed to do so and is cleared from other rooms where the nursery and kids rooms are set up. We are not attached to a building. There is no building fund. We do not pay anyone to come in and set this up. Set up and tear down afterwards is done by our family. When I say "our family," I am not talking about the 6 members of the Gaskin clan (though 3-4 help the process) but of the family of brothers and sisters in Christ that make up Renovation Church. We are in this together. We serve together and do so joyfully. In fact, we make it look so fun that many visitors join in (though we never expect them to!) That is what you get with Renovation. You get a family. We hang out with each other, take care of each others needs, watch each others kids, and support one another (more so than many biologically connected families.) I have been lectured on putting my church family before my blood family before, but let me tell you, my church family is my blood family. We are connected by the blood of Christ and that bond is for all eternity. I love my biological family, don't get me wrong, but it is only an earthly tie. My bond with my church family (and my other fellow Christians throughout the world) is a much stronger link. We can never be separated. Not even by death! We are in this together forever and have the same purpose-- to bring God glory!
Renovation Church has been reaching out to the community in many ways. We have been serving the needs of those around us and are planning to serve global needs as well with a trip to Haiti in the spring. Every month brings several new ways to serve and connect with those who need love and Jesus in our lives. It has been a very encouraging year, seeing people saved! Learning and growing together with our small groups, mens groups, and ladies groups has only tightened the bond that our family has. In the current series, we are taking this relationship to a whole new level! Covenant Community delves into how we are "Bound to Christ, United to One Another." I encourage everyone to check out the podcasts !
As you can see, we have been busy but blessed. God has opened my eyes to reveal the opportunities to serve and love in this new area we now call home. Thanks for reading along as we undertake this journey! Stay tuned for more posts!
Oakwood football: Brian has been coaching Oakwood football at the middle school level. The position was open at the right time and since it is within walking distance, he applied. He enjoys it, though it is more frustrating than working with those in high school (yeah, I was surprised to hear that too.) He introduced me to a few of his players the other day. They aren't exactly what you would call the "football type." But Brian said they may not be big but they were the "Mean Seventeen." I had to laugh when one of the boys said, "Yeah, but we aren't mean." So...I guess that means they are just seventeen of them. Either way, he is enjoying the season and he is getting paid for it. I am glad as well. I cannot imagine a season when he isn't coaching and the thought of him not getting to this fall kinda made me sad. Plus, the middle school season isn't as intense or as long as high school, which is perfect since we are busy preparing for the upcoming arrival of baby #5.
So, baby #5: In case you haven't heard, we are expecting our 5th child in December. A baby boy this time! I have created a website to keep everyone posted on what is happening in that area of our family growth. Check it out here: Gaskin Baby #5 website We have been preparing by switching around bedrooms and collecting much needed and appreciated hand me downs from friends and family. Thanks so much to everyone who has blessed us with a gift for our new baby boy!
Settling in: I am happy to say that I only have about 6 more boxes to unpack! Yeah! Finally! As we were switching the girls' bedrooms around (Tierney and Lena now share a room while Maebry and our new baby will share the other) I finally unpacked the remaining boxes of girls' stuff. The girls were super stoked about seeing toys they hadn't played with since last December. Maebry would squeal every time I opened a new box. It was very exciting for them....and a bit overwhelming for me. I have decided we will be making a healthy donation to the Goodwill in the next few weeks. BTW, Isaac is relieved that he will not be sharing his bedroom even though this baby is a boy.
My list of to-do projects around the house are being slowly whittled down and I find joy in marking each one off my list. I have finally decided on what to do with the dining room but probably won't tackle that project until next spring. We are also selling various items on Craigslist now (it is so easy to use!) and getting rid of the excess furniture we have.
Oakwood-- the neighborhood: Oakwood has started to grow on us. It is hard to be too disgruntled when there are so many amenities available.We relaxed at the pool over the summer. I scored over 70 new books at the community wide book swap. Isaac is still taking guitar lessons, Lena is signed up for another ballet class, and Tierney will be playing basketball in the local rec league. Isaac has signed up for basketball in the neighboring community of Kettering where the league is bigger. The neighbors have settled down (or perhaps we just deal with them better) since school has resumed. The changing leaves have turned the area into a very picturesque place to reside. We went to the Fall Festival this past weekend and enjoyed a hayride, face painting, games, bouncy houses, pumpkin painting, doughnut eating contest, and the playground. It was all FREE! (Taxpayer "free," of course.) Oakwood may have a "snobbish" reputation, but for the most part, the people we have met are very friendly.
Girl Scouts: Our troop started meeting in August, and under my new leadership have an organized and productive time. The girls have commented on how they enjoy the new format better than last year (when chaos reigned) and now have a big part in planning what they do at each meeting. The only issue we are having is parent support. I have been left alone with the girls at two meetings now and that is unacceptable. I sent out a parent rotation list for volunteers to sign up to help. Only three parents have said they would help. If the issue of support continues, I will be resigning as leader. Not only is it against Girl Scout policy that I be alone with a bunch of girls, but it is also unsafe. If there was an emergency, it would create a dilemma of getting help, etc. I am enjoying spending time with the troop so hopefully this issue can be resolved.
Homeschooling: We started our homeschool year in August. It has been going great despite the fact that we are slightly behind schedule. I have been more flexible with our schedule though, and we have gone on more field trips and outings this year. It is only October and we have gone on 4 field trips! Of course, I am an overachiever so what we do accomplish will still be about triple what they would get in public school.
We have also enrolled in a co-op. The kids love it and have made many new friends. Isaac's classes are speech, finances, chemistry, and computer programming. Tierney is taking P.E., Devotionals, Art Appreciation & Science (I teach of few of these.) Lena is in a pre-school class and is always excited to attend. Maebry is in a toddler class and brings home many craft projects too. I have really savored the chance to get to know other moms in the group and truly appreciate the parent enrichment portions that are provided when we aren't teaching. We get brunch and a speaker comes in to uplift us in God's Word and encourage us with practical advice for homeschooling issues. I feel that we all have grown in a positive way since we joined this group! And, having 4 kids seems to be the norm! In fact, the majority of families there have 4-5 children each. That is a considerable number since there are 56 families! Beware: Homeschoolers shall inherit the earth! (Or rejoice, as the case may be!)
Church: I saved the most exciting part for last! Renovation Church is why we moved to Ohio. Yes, it was God's command, but this inspiring church was the reason. Many people think of church as a building. We can take that out of the equation here, though. We do not own a building. We do not have a permanent place, really. Every Sunday the curtains, the stage, the instruments, the lights, the sound equipment all go up. Gymnastic equipment is removed to do so and is cleared from other rooms where the nursery and kids rooms are set up. We are not attached to a building. There is no building fund. We do not pay anyone to come in and set this up. Set up and tear down afterwards is done by our family. When I say "our family," I am not talking about the 6 members of the Gaskin clan (though 3-4 help the process) but of the family of brothers and sisters in Christ that make up Renovation Church. We are in this together. We serve together and do so joyfully. In fact, we make it look so fun that many visitors join in (though we never expect them to!) That is what you get with Renovation. You get a family. We hang out with each other, take care of each others needs, watch each others kids, and support one another (more so than many biologically connected families.) I have been lectured on putting my church family before my blood family before, but let me tell you, my church family is my blood family. We are connected by the blood of Christ and that bond is for all eternity. I love my biological family, don't get me wrong, but it is only an earthly tie. My bond with my church family (and my other fellow Christians throughout the world) is a much stronger link. We can never be separated. Not even by death! We are in this together forever and have the same purpose-- to bring God glory!
Renovation Church has been reaching out to the community in many ways. We have been serving the needs of those around us and are planning to serve global needs as well with a trip to Haiti in the spring. Every month brings several new ways to serve and connect with those who need love and Jesus in our lives. It has been a very encouraging year, seeing people saved! Learning and growing together with our small groups, mens groups, and ladies groups has only tightened the bond that our family has. In the current series, we are taking this relationship to a whole new level! Covenant Community delves into how we are "Bound to Christ, United to One Another." I encourage everyone to check out the podcasts !
As you can see, we have been busy but blessed. God has opened my eyes to reveal the opportunities to serve and love in this new area we now call home. Thanks for reading along as we undertake this journey! Stay tuned for more posts!
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