Progeny

I’ve got nothing, nothing for you
All was spent for others’ care
I dug deep, but I am empty
And such mines are everywhere.
Every gem and golden nugget,
Every sonnet, every song
I have given to the children
So, pardon, if I’ve done you wrong.

I’ve got nothing, nothing for you
I have paid a pricey fare
To tread upon a different planet
View the castles in the air
And yet I do not regret it
Though in poverty, I leave —
Of more worth than what I’ve given
Are the gifts that I receive.

The Ongoing Saga of the Krycho Momma

I'm here at Jubala Village Coffee, sipping a decaf vanilla latte like a hipster and trying to concentrate on writing rather than people-watching.

The last few weeks have entirely thrown off our schedule. I'm so thankful for the social time that Ellie gets both at church and at the YMCA, but it does mean more sickness in the Krycho household. Two weeks ago, the munchkin got a cold/fever, which she subsequently passed to me. Soon after we both recovered from that, she contracted a stomach bug that, despite my assiduous efforts to Lysol it out of existence, went to me and laid me out for two days straight. I've never been so sick with a stomach virus in my life, and it was hard for Ellie to comprehend why I wasn't leaving the bedroom to play with her. Chris was amazing at taking care of both me and the girls, though. Such incidents make me so thankful for good health, and help me appreciate people (and their spouses) who endure chronic illness with a good attitude and (if they're Christians) a strong faith. It's no small thing - we humans like our comfort, and there are few things more uncomfortable than our own bodies rebelling against us.

Hmm...what else. Well, I finally visited a Christian psychiatrist for the first time to evaluate my antidepressant. Until now, I've only had a family doctor prescribe it, and have resisted the idea of going to a psychiatrist. There are several reasons for this, including (in no particular order), pride, the stigma, and not wanting to cost the family extra money. Finally, though, with the encouragement of my gentle husband, I went, and have not regretted it for an instant. I loved the doctor's perspective on the combined spiritual and physical nature of things like depression, and his understanding of the biological factors that come into play.

Now, if you will allow me to climb up on the soap box:

I must admit that it still makes me nervous to put this kind of thing out in public. I never know how I will be judged. I think it's hard for people to understand who have never had a someone close to them deal with depression, or have never dealt with it themselves. There is that tendency to say, "Well, just find joy in the Lord," or "Try to spend more time in the Word." And truly, my relationship with the Lord is the most vital thing in my life to combat depression. BUT. I don't want to condemn anyone who has said those things, but can I encourage you to reevaluate your perspective on the nature of depression? I should clarify that there are truly circumstantial types of depression (like, the malaise following a bad breakup). However, the kind of ongoing, it-has-a-mind-of-its-own type of depression doesn't go away with a simple mental paradigm shift, nor does it just disappear by my taking some magic pill of happiness. My goal in writing these things is, as ever, to help open up the public discourse about depression, so if you have any questions as you read this, I'm always open to answering them. Hit me up via email or on Facebook.

In other news, the first day of October was a big day for the Krycho girls. Kate finally managed to roll from her back to her stomach, and Ellie learned how to open doors with doorknobs as well as counted to five by herself! You can bet I am one proud momma.

Lest you think that all is going swimmingly in my parenting, I am struggling with enforcing food rules with Ellie. I waited too long to enforce the "you eat what's in a front of you rule," and now I'm paying for it. I have already apologized to my picky toddler for delaying the training, thereby making it harder on both of us. Now I'm striving to be consistent in my expectations...which is really hard, because I am a sucker. Not that a tender heart for children is bad by any means, but sometimes love looks like being firm and teaching Ellie to do things she'd really rather not do.

Other than that, there have been great times with neighbors and church friends, much cackling over podcasts and the new season of Doctor Who, and some fabulous reading material from Mary Robinett Kowal (magic + romance + Regency fiction + Austen-style prose? Yes, please).

Dear reader, I hope you have enjoyed this brief glimpse into my life, and I hope to converse with you again soon. :) Until then, grace and peace be yours in Christ Jesus.

Falling Off the Ladder

Was it seriously over a year ago that I blogged here? I feel like I need to do a total blog makeover in order to usher in a new era of writing.

It is possible that I fell off the face of the planet. It is also possible that my second pregnancy and subsequent delivery, plus learning how to raise a very beautiful and curious toddler for the first time, has occupied most of my time of late. It's a happy stage of life - difficult in its own right - but happy.

And when I say difficult, I do mean that there are days when I'm so tired I want to cry for that reason alone. There are times when I almost regret praying for the Lord to make me humble...because he answers that prayer not by taking me down a peg, but by knocking me off the ladder, then reminding me he's the reason I'm able to climb in the first place.

Parenting is unbelievably humbling, because it is chock-full of mistakes waiting to happen. I mean that in the best possible way. Children - people - are just so complex, the human heart and mind such profound works of feeling and thought, that even my most noble efforts to parent "right" go awry. I often forget that the only answer for us complicated people is the all-encompassing and all-gracious work of Christ as detailed in the Bible, not the list of practices and precepts that sound best to Jaimie. I am constantly reminded of how little I preach the truth to myself...how prone I am to take the Gospel as something to be appreciated but not applied. Just when I think I am being a "great Christian..." BAM! The Holy Spirit is gracious to remind me that it is "by grace I have been saved, not by works, so that no man may boast."

On the more mundane level, I've been enjoying church at FBC Durham (small groups are, thankfully, about to resume after the summer hiatus), working on a novella and my new fantasy novel (from time to time...again, it's a really hard stage of life during which to write consistently), taking an awesome free online writing course by Brandon Sanderson, Christian counseling, playdates with other moms and their children, an overnight getaway with my handsome husband, and of course, the antics, adventures, and giggles that come with the two bright, bubbly, Star-Wars-loving things named Ellie and Kate.

Well, dear reader, that's all I got for now. Before I go, here's my latest book recommendation for the ladies:

Women of the Word by Jen Wilkin - This is an awesome book about how to study the Bible in the way God intended - a faithful, intellect-plus-heart engaging way, letting the Word interpret itself rather than our feelings, misguided notions or guesses doing the interpreting. It's a short read, too, so you won't have any trouble fitting it in to a busy schedule!

I take my leave of you and send compliments to your family in proper Regency style. I'll try to write again before a whole year passes. ;p

Update From Your Friendly Neighborhood City Girl

Hey, all. Just thought I'd check in to the land of the living and give those interested a brief update. :)

I just went to the local farmers' market for the first time. There's something so refreshing about the atmosphere of a farmers' market. It gives you a feeling of simultaneous touristic novelty and civic familiarity. That is, until you ask one of the vendors if they take credit cards, like I did. Then you just feel like a typical clueless city-goer.

The last two weeks have been busy and pleasant. Due to the fact I'm an introvert, I have been feeling very fatigued though everything that's happened has been good. My parents visited us in NC for the first time June 16 through 22, and a few days after that, Ellie and I flew to Norman for a week to attend Laura Piersall's baby shower and visit friends. Seeing old friends greatly uplifted me! As I explained to Chris, by the end of the week I was ready to come home, but not to leave my friends behind. Would that I could take them all with me to Wake Forest, but alas, we cannot always get what we want.

Ellie did great on the plane, in case you were wondering how that went. I tell you, the girl gets more attention from random strangers than the Kardashians get from the tabloids. I guess that's what happens when you're the cutest possible baby of all possible worlds. I often wonder if that will cause a struggle for her if and when a second child comes along. If it does, that could actually be good, since don't we all have to learn at some point that the world doesn't revolve around us?

Also: Ellie is turning into an adorable girly-girl, which makes me mentally giggle with glee . She has recently realized (thanks to Laura), that headbands are pretty decorations for your hair. Therefore, she will incline her head if you hold out a headband to her, and try to put it on herself if you give it to her. She also learned how to brush her hair just by watching me. She's a smart cookie, that one!

Due to the visits and travels, I haven't written anything in a little while. I have, however, been tossing around a few projects in my head. Remember how I wanted to write a systematic theology book for teenage girls? Well, that is morphing into a desire to write a devotional, instead - a hermeneutically sound devotional that doesn't take one verse out of its context in order to make a point (albeit a good point). It is an attainable goal, and will challenge me in many ways - not only in writing, but in prayer and Bible study as well.

I'm also developing ideas for fantasy novel no. 2. Having a blank slate is incredibly freeing and refreshing. There are so many themes and scenes and characters bouncing around in my head waiting to be given life, be thrown out, or be modified and filed away for a later time.

I've read two very good nonfiction books this summer - "When People are Big and God is Small," by Welch, and "Love to Eat, Hate to Eat," by Fitzpatrick. I highly recommend the former to all Christians, particularly those who find that the fear of man (or, to put it euphemistically, "people-pleasing") characterizes the majority of their interactions with the world and others.

I urge anyone woman who struggles with either under- or over-eating - whether out of bad habit or an actual eating disorder/mental and emotional struggle - to read Fitzpatrick's "Love to Eat, Hate to Eat." As someone who has historically struggled with disordered eating and still often with disordered thinking, if you will, I found this book to be the piercing sword of truth I needed to make my heart feel the weight of the wrongness of my physical and mental habits. The author is dead-on about the root of the problem and the source of the solution. It is no surprise that this - the most "spiritual" advice I've read about the topic - has ended up being the most practical advice, as well. If you want to ask more on the topic, please feel free to contact me!

Well, there's a bit of my life in a nice little nutshell. I hope to hear from you, dear reader, in a comment, email, or whatever else you feel like. Until next time.

N to the C

Hello, friends all. I just realized I've been so caught up in the steady, sometimes mind-numbing, thrum of life - and have focused on my writing blog when I've had the inkling to blog at all - that I've neglected to write here. And that is my loss! Coming back to this blank page makes me realize how much I like to simply blog about life. There's a beautiful simplicity about the day-to-day that's not to be underestimated.

I was inspired to return by one of my dearest friends, Megan. Her most recent posts concern Facebook, and how it affects our perception of ourselves and our lives. Check it out, if you have the inclination!

What's been going on in the good ol' Krychocosm? Well, we moved to North Carolina. I guess that's kind of a big deal. Actually, it's almost the end of Chris' first semester at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. Unsurprisingly, it's been fun and not too difficult for him, since he likes to write and read about theology in his spare time, anyway. There are certainly worse problems to have.

Of course, this threw somewhat of a wrench in my emotional machinery for a bit. Since Chris is working part-time from home and doing school, his schedule is fairly flexible. He's at home quite a bit, albeit working. So, I find it all too easy to try interact with him as if he isn't working. This was especially true after we first arrived here, since I was still adjusting and clinging to the familiar like flotsam in a shipwreck. I've gotten much better about respecting his space since then. After all, he's working hard for Ellie and me - to provide for us. I try to remember this when I feel the sinful resentment kicking in. I have to remind myself that he's not working because it's the most fun thing ever and he'd rather do that than spend time with me. He does enjoy work, but he does it for a God-ordained reason, and that is worthy of great respect.

Deer in the front of our townhouse - a regular occurrence.

Our sweet Elayne Kaylee is ELEVEN MONTHS OLD. Unreal! Her steady growth has afforded me all kinds of new domestic opportunities that seem a bit strange, at a glance. For example: I just pulled a whole squash out of the oven. It's for Ellie's baby food, but still. That may not strike you as odd, but baking whole squashes never struck me as something I would be doing as a function of motherhood. Her increasing mobility has afforded her all kinds of new opportunities for facial expressions, including the impish lip-quirk that indicates she did something she wasn't supposed to, and the bright-eyed grin with lifted chin that shows she is proud of a new skill she was able to showcase.

Proud of herself for eating a banana with her hands for the first time.

Behold, my beautiful squash.

As for me, well, this has been a period of rapid growth. As I described to a friend, there are those times in life when you go from slow and steady sanctification to a sudden leap that forces you to grow in some crazy ways at what feels like lightning speed. In reality, it's as fast as it needs to be, and there's more than enough grace to go around when it happens...but for awhile, you just feel a little bit bonkers, especially (I imagine) if you're a methodical, checklist-y person like myself.

This transition has brought sins and insecurities to the surface, forcing me to deal with them. The feeling of disorientation that came with moving caused me to cling especially tightly to the Lord, for which I am so thankful. Also, our new church has a reverence and passion for the holiness and glory of God that has challenged me right down to my bones. The clear exposition of Scripture has been nothing less than transformative...as I suppose it always is and must be. The Lord has used our pastor, Dr. Andy Davis, to address difficult issues from Scripture, and I've come out the other side knowing and loving the character of our awesome God more.

So there it is, in a nutshell (or a maybe a squash rind). Hopefully, I'll update here more frequently so that those who care can learn more about what's going on with us than what Facebook statuses indicate.   Hope you're well, dear reader. By all means, leave me a comment telling me something going on with you.

Contemplations of a Young Mom, First Part

If I build my parenting around ways I can make Ellie like me more, I'm doing it wrong.

Maybe that seems obvious, but this very problem did not come about loudly, but subtly and quietly. Oftentimes, especially when Ellie was between 3 and 6 months and began to show personality and preference, I found myself feeling jealous of Ellie's affection and attention. "She seems to like this person more than me," I would think, or, "Why does it seems like she's happier with (insert name) than with me?"

While I, at first, battled these thoughts with the self-provided assurance that "no one can replace Mom," I began to realize that I was merely dealing with the symptoms and not the disease by doing so. I asked myself, what will it look like when Ellie is, say, 13, and has a favorite female mentor she tends to confide in more than me? Will I feel resentful towards my own daughter? Towards the mentor? Will I make desperate attempts to be more fun, or funnier, or more interesting, in order to draw my child's attention back to me?

I didn't want to be that woman. I wanted to love Ellie, love her well. And though I began to tell myself, "I only feel this way because I love Ellie so much," it brought me to the question: What do I consider love? Vying for Ellie's attention isn't acting out of love - it's acting out of insecurity. That's not how I want to parent.

So, what do I consider "love?" Well, what does Christ's love look like? Sacrifice, patience, care, and compassion, despite whether the person receiving those things would end up following him beyond the grave or deserting him at their first glance of the horror of Calvary. Christ's love didn't look to what he'd receive from the sacrifice. It looked to how to obey the Father. So should my love for my daughter, and any future children should God grant them to me, look - never expecting or exacting a reward for my faithfulness as a mother, but simply growing more in Christlikeness, for that is what God calls me to.

As Rachel Jankovic -  a Christian writer and mother I much admire - comments, writing about this lesson does not mean I have checked or could justify checking it off my sanctification list. These things I write about - these are the daily battles I fight. Chances are that if I feel like I have it down one day, I'll be struggling like crazy the next. Let us pray for one another, that we fight these battles better each time they come around by throwing ourselves upon God's grace. Amen.

Fear & Frontier

I can feel my blood pressure rising, my pulse quicken with anxiety. Why? One word: transition.

A new season of transition has begun. The last one began with Ellie's birth. Now, just when I was feeling like I had motherhood in hand, I turn around to see my five-month-old barrel roll across the floor to get into the Xbox wires, and eat her first solid foods (which I'm going to have to start actually cooking and storing soon), and take two naps instead of four (meaning I have less time for writing and voice acting), in addition to realizing that we're moving across the country in two months, and my husband's going to school and working part-time, and I'm not going to know where the grocery store in Wake Forest is.

It's new, and so it scares me. And while slipping into the all-too-comfortable "American Dream" scares me more, a house, white picket fence and 2.5 children certainly sounds a whole lot safer.

I mean, how will I know who I'm going to be in these new situations? I know how I am now - I can avoid the pitfalls easily. But in the future, when new stresses beset me and I'm running around like a chicken with its head cut off because Ellie spilled her milk and rubbed peanut butter in her hair and the maybe-new-baby is squalling because he/she rolled over onto a sticker and I haven't taken a shower in two days and we have to adjust the grocery budget because prices went up and income went down and we're taking our first overseas family mission trip in three weeks...then, who will I be? How will I handle it? Can I accomplish every task set out for me in that dark frontier of the days I've not yet lived?

But isn't this a picture of my whole life? Have I ever really known what I was doing? I'd say no, and as it turns out, God has not failed me in staying true to his good, gracious, sovereign character to date. This doesn't make my feelings go away, but the Word does command me not to be afraid. It says to bring my requests to God in prayer and thanksgiving, instead. Friends, if you think of me, will you pray that I will turn my fear of transition over to the Lord in thankful prayer as soon as it arises? I could use the prayers, and the reminders of just how in control God is over periods of great change.

Getting Territorial

It's easy to equate the phrase "taking care of Ellie is my job" to "taking care of Ellie is my territory."

Indeed, taking care of Ellie is my job, and I very much view it as such. In the same way that Chris has a responsibility to get up each weekday morning, drive to work and make money to support our family, I have a distinct responsibility to get up at whatever hour to nurse the baby, play with her during the day and generally keep her happy and healthy as she grows up. It's a worthwhile job - the best job ever, in my opinion - and the "pay" is the joy of raising up a child to delight in Christ and her life in Him.

Yesterday I noticed a dangerous slip in my thinking. When Chris made an innocent suggestion about something to do with Elayne, I took it amiss and told him that I felt he was "jumping into my territory." He was quick to point out that we must not become territorial over our child! Mothering may be my job, but parenting - that's a team effort. 

I think that it's easy for mothers to become possessive of their children, adopting an insidious pride in the fact that they're around their babies 24-7 and therefore know their tiniest quirks. As if that entitles them (us...me) to take over the role that God has given to both parents! We quickly forget that just as we are merely stewards of our money and our talents, we are merely stewards of our children. Ellie belongs to God, first and foremost, for it was He who "knit her together in [my] womb" and who "wrote every one of the days ordained for her before one of them came to be" (Psalm 139). I did no knitting, or writing. I am simply privileged to be the one God chose as Ellie's mother.

Perhaps internalizing that truth is the surest way to combat the idea that Elayne is mine and mine alone to deal with. If I remember that she is God's, then I will strive to raise her in a Godward manner, which means that I will inevitably see parenting as something Chris and I must do together. For Chris and I are to Ellie, as to the rest of the world, a picture of Christ and His church in our marriage (Ephesians 5), and Ellie won't see that picture well if I keep trying to take over and do things by myself.

Something to chew on. Let me know what you think.

From Inside My Lil' Cocoon

The last time someone asked me how my novel was going, I answered without thinking, "Somebody needs to die." What I meant was, I needed to kill off a character in my novel that I hadn't killed in the first draft. Well, that person is dead, so now I can blog in peace.

Is it strange that I enjoy killing off characters in my novel? The other scene I distinctly enjoyed was a breakup scene. I've since psychoanalyzed myself and decided I simply like having control over "people's" lives. The control I have as an author over my novel makes me feel a little more in control of my microcosm, makes my head feel a bit more organized, my thoughts more linear (because let's face it - my thoughts resemble an O-ball way more often than they do a line).

This is an O-ball, by the way.

I learned my lesson from last time I tried to write in Starbucks. This time, I brought ear plugs. Unfortunately, I can still hear the atrocious music, but conversation is all muffled, so no more discussions about how my feet don't reach the floor.

Something about this cocoon of silence is incredibly comforting. Yet another example of my introversion. Not being able to tune in to the words of other people - even as much as I like people-watching - makes me feel secure and alone. And alone time is what I need right now, despite the fact I am writing a post for public consumption.

But you know, in the end, I write not for the public, but because I like to.

It's good to be out of the apartment. I'm so thankful for the time that Chris gives me to write every Monday and Tuesday evening. Little Ellie is going through some kind of developmental leap and it's temporarily made her a pill. She requires constant attention, and things that usually make her happy only do so for a few minutes before she decides she's upset again. I love her, and I definitely miss her after a few hours away from her, but I'm glad for the break.

We just got back from a trip to Colorado Springs - Ellie's first plane ride! She actually enjoyed the airport, I think. She stared at all the people with great interest (takes after her momma). It was downright cool there, even cold at night. What a beautiful place. Sometimes I forget what naturally lovely places there are in the States because I'm Texas born and bred and Oklahoma schooled. Not that TX and OK don't have their own beauties, but let's face it - just like Robert Downey, Jr. is more handsome than David Crowder, as a whole, Colorado is prettier than Oklahoma and Texas.

Better Days

I am happy to announce that these past 2-3 days have been significantly better, and all I can say is thank God, and thank you for your much-felt prayers!

I've been able to find much more joy in Elayne and her infant antics, even in the wee hours of morning. Much of this is because I've been intentional in meditating on God's perspective of children. The Bible says children are a blessing from the Lord. It also says that we are his children, so in taking care of Elayne, I can get to know God and his perspective and care for me more truly and deeply. That's very encouraging. I've often asked myself how I'm going to "do ministry"with a small child, "ministry" existing in a tight box that I've constructed over my college years. However, my spirit was lifted when I realized that if I get to know God better through raising Elayne, I will inevitably serve him more wholeheartedly. As we see God more clearly, we become more like him, and that cannot be constricted to just a few areas of life. It'll spill over into everything, praise him!

 In addition to all that, I've been able to carve out some time for reading in the afternoon (my quiet time, and maybe some of Shepherding a Child's Heart) and before bed (Wheel of Time book 5 re-read, baby!). The addition of these very regular and encouraging activities gives me hope that Chris and I can discover our "new normal" sometime soon.

In other news, I'm trying to decide whether or not to attend the Wordsmithy writing conference August 2-4. Chris pointed it out to me and said we can make it happen, if I want to go. It sounds great, but I'm quite insecure about my writing at the moment. Not that I think it's not good or anything, but it's been a bit long since I've sat down and worked on the second draft of my novel with any consistency. Indeed, I let it go to the wayside during my first trimester (understandably - I pretty much slept any time I wasn't working or trying to keep the nausea down) and haven't picked it up since. So, we'll see. The idea of a writing conference has always both excited and intimidated me, so it's not a surprise that I'm jumping on the excuses for why it would be inappropriate or whatever for me to go.

More later, dear reader.

Trying to Figure This Out

Maybe that's my first problem - I'm trying to "figure this out."

For those of you who may not have heard, Chris and my first child, a daughter, was born on Sunday, May 27, at 1:39 pm. Her name is Elayne, she was 6 lbs, 4 oz, and 18 inches long. She's a beauty, and we are so very proud to be her parents.

This first week of parenthood has been interesting and difficult. I don't do well with change, and this is (obviously) a change of tremendous magnitude. Thank God for giving me a husband who takes this kind of thing in stride, and has very realistic expectations for what new phases of life will look like. So far, parenthood is kind of like marriage in that it is wonderful, yet hard in ways that you can't fully understand until you've been there. Not that I think I'm some veteran - au contraire! - most of the time I'm asking myself, "What on earth am I doing?!"

If you've been on my Facebook page lately, you might have seen that Chris and I think I may be experiencing postpartum depression. Apparently, 1 in 4 women go through this veritable maelstrom of malicious hormones, and those who have had depression before (read: me) are much more susceptible to it. For those of you who have never been depressed, the best way I can describe it is this: a depressed person's thinking is limited to a concrete cell. A wall rises up in front of the person's mind, and the more depressed they are, the more incapable of penetrating that wall they feel. It prevents them from seeing the greater perspective, finding hope, and deriving joy from circumstances. That's where I am right now - when I see Elayne, I find myself feeling sad and hopeless, and harboring dread about the future (for example - "I'll never get good sleep again...things will always be this difficult...Chris and I will never get time together...I'll never get to do anything I personally want to do because the baby will take up all my time forever...").

I guess you could say I feel a bit more prepared to deal with depression this time around, since Chris and I have spent almost three years learning how to battle it off together with prayer, encouragement and the truth of God's Word. That sounds really nice and spiritual, but in reality, it stinks in epic proportions. I don't want to be here again, and I'm asking for prayer that God will deliver me out of this very soon. I want to enjoy every moment with Elayne, for she is truly a treasure. If only my brain would meet up with my heart there.

Hopefully, I'll have a more positive story to post next time. I mean to start blogging more consistently, now that the little one has arrived. Perhaps I'll post my birth story eventually - we'll see (not everyone wants to hear about that, and I understand!). In the meantime, I wanted to give you this brief update. Over and out.

Thoughts About Labor (the Baby Kind)

Throughout my pregnancy, one of my biggest fears has been labor, mostly because it's one big question mark. Labor is different for every woman, and there's pretty much no way to predict how it will go.

I, personally, am a big fan of knowing everything that's going to happen to me before it happens (haha, you say), so you can see why the thought of an unpredictable hours-long bout with pain doesn't jive with me.

Naturally, I set out asking many different women about their experiences with labor, each time hoping to hear what I wanted to hear - that is, "You know, it does hurt, but in the end it's not that bad, and you can do it!" Instead, I've discovered that woman seem to have some morbid need to describe their pain to me (ranging from "it feels like you're being ripped apart from the inside" to the loud statement of a hyperbolic grimace) any time I mention that I'd like to give birth without any medication.

Yeah...not helpful. I've been striving to find someone who will forgo the terms "agony" and the like to remind me (as a male friend at church did today, God bless him) that women - many who had to have been wimpier than me - have been giving birth to healthy babies without medication for centuries.

Not that medication is bad. I'm not going to try to be a hero if I really think I need an epidural, but I'm also not going to keep it so close at hand that I reach for it (so to speak) at the first sign of difficult pain. In the midst of all of my trepidation, I keep reminding myself that my body was made to deliver a baby and has been assiduously preparing for it these many months. And, of course, Baby Krycho will come at the end of it, and what could be better? As my mother-in-law put it - the most encouraging words about labor I've heard to date - all of it is pressure with a purpose.

All this to say that I'm going to be careful, I hope, to speak as positively about labor as I can when someone (especially a first-time pregnant woman) asks me about it in the future. It's partially my fault for asking so many people about it, when gathering information from only a few trusted sources and medical staff would've been wiser for me. However, I've been more than a little appalled at the reactions I've gotten, so you can bet that I'm not going to ask around about labor any more!

And that is all.

30 weeks down, between 6 and 10 to go...

Kick, kick, kick, all day long!

Baby Days

Some of you are probably sick of baby-related status updates and pictures now, and that's okay. I, however, have not yet written any thoughts on pregnancy, and it's high time for me to do so!

Pregnancy is an ongoing joyride for me. Okay, perhaps that's a little hyperbolic - what with the nausea in the first trimester and ultra-extreme mood swings and fluctuating appetites in the second - but I am truly enjoying life in a way I never have before. There is a HUMAN LIFE inside me, and she's kicking, turning somersaults, and making her mother laugh and exult in the pure essence of vitality and newness that she is.

Some of you know that Chris and I were unsure of when we'd be able to have children, due to varying risks with the two different antidepressants I've taken. After much deliberation, research and counsel, we decided to stop trying to actively prevent pregnancy last year. I've wanted children pretty much since we were first married, so you can imagine my elation when I found out that my oft-tearful and fear-laden prayer had been answered in the affirmative, quite soon after we made that decision. I suppose I expected God to give me the hardest circumstance in order to grow me (and the scary forms that took in my brain changed from day to day), but instead, he saw fit to bless Chris and I with a biological child, who is, thank the Lord, healthy and rapidly growing.

So, about that expecting-God-to-make-it-hard bit: I have what I like to call a "coping mechanism" that I should probably throw out the window, and that is to expect the worst so that if it happens I won't be disappointed, and if it doesn't, I'll be that much happier.

It's never actually helped me cope, by the way, but I keep holding out for it to.

Anyway, when I'm in my best frame of mind (that is, my most God-centered one), pregnancy gives me a hugely intimate and tangible reason to lift up praise to God. After all, children - whether biological or adopted - are a gift from him, and gifts from God are never to be taken lightly. In a generation where babies are seen as inconveniences and time, money and energy-drainers, I, as a Christian woman, can rejoice in the truth - that motherhood is an immense privilege, giving Chris and me the nearest and dearest little disciple we'll ever have, and letting us participate in the divinely-ordained act of both creation and molding into the image of Christ.

Until June 2, then, or whenever Baby decides she's ready to emerge from her happy, warm home into the wide, wide world, I will hold to these thoughts and thank the Lord for this time of life, even when it doesn't feel like the ultimate pleasure that is does today.

Status and Stasis

Hello, world out there!

It's been many a day since I last blogged, and for that, I beg your forgiveness. Not that any of you were holding it against me, but oh well.

Life in the Krycho household is fine. God has restored a lot of happiness around here since I've been doing so much better. No big news to share - Chris continues to work faithfully, even when he has no work, and I continue to slave away in school against the slings and arrows of outrageous senioritis and the desire to do nothing else but work on my fantasy novel.

Lately, I've been taking care of my Nepalese friends's - Keshav and Deva's - two young children, ages two and six (as well as occasionally getting to hold their newborn!). It has been quite the learning experience for me. I've taken care of kids before, having worked in my former church's daycare for three years. Since I'm living in the same apartment complex as these kids, though, I can go over at random times, invite them outside to play, bake cookies with them...the possibilities are endless.

Because of that, I more fully realize how difficult it is to care for children, especially when they're disobeying! Parenthood carries a weight of responsibility that I cannot fathom until I experience it, I'm sure. That's why I can now say: I can rest in goodness of the fact that Chris and I do not have children yet.  God knows what he's doing. I will rejoice like crazy when I am finally a mother, but until then, I have a glimpse of a reason why God is postponing that stage of our lives (or perhaps we'll  never be parents, and if that is God's will, it is still good).

So there's that. I'm also blessed by my friendship with that family, particularly with Deva. It's different than anything I've known, especially when it comes to talking about God and Christ. Deva, like the rest of her family, is Hindu, which means (in addition to other things, of course) that "she respects all religions." Instead of butting up against staunch atheism or deism, I am now facing a tolerant polytheism that draws the Christian God in as just another deity in a line of divine beings.

This is forcing me to trust God in a new way -- to truly acknowledge that salvation is always miraculous, and the miracle that God works at other times in ways that are way more familiar to me is just as possible here with Deva and her family. Our God does not change from situation to situation, and that is profoundly comforting.

For Brentley

Blue eyes like stars landed
In a blanket of snow
Look world, look! The Lord rules the earth!
A smile that breaks gently
Like the water on sand
Sense world, sense! He moves His right arm!
Formless words - no sound prettier
My ears have yet heard
Hear world, hear! Our creative God speaks!
Oh, fair little creature,
Here, beauty I see
That makes the world tremble -
A hint of God's glory!

Photo courtesy theinspiredroom.net

Hope of Life, Taste of Death

It's OU-TX weekend, and I am going to Texas. For the game, you ask? No, indeed! To celebrate my best friend Katie's birthday! Don't you love and admire my school spirit?

---

While my life has been calm, praise God, storms rage around me in the lives of those I love.

I held a newborn baby for the first time yesterday -- Lydia, the beautiful daughter of my friends Mike and Whitney. It made my heart ache with love and awe, and I'm not even the parent! Lydia is a miraculous birth, in a way, and while the story is not mine to tell, I can say with all confidence that here, God was in control.

Not too long ago, Mike found out he is being deployed to the Middle East for three months, leaving his wife and new "little princess" behind. We prayed over them yesterday with our Bible study group, since Mike leaves tomorrow morning. It was heartbreaking. And yet I know that if we "take the wings of morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there [God's] hand shall lead [us], and [his] right hand shall hold [us]" (Psalm 139:9-10). Here, God is in control.

Today I received an email informing me that my favorite teacher's mother just died. I know the burden has been heavy on him, as his family members look to him for stability though he is as shaken as they are. It's strange thinking about death after holding vibrant life in my arms yesterday. Two extremes, both showing that we small humans have no control over our lives.

Yet even here, even in death, God is in control.

Praise him who is sovereign -- there is comfort unparalleled  in that great knowledge!

Baby, Baby

I battle the notion that if, for some reason, I never have children or do so much, much later in life, I will be a failure.  I know I won't be in the eyes of those who love me, but it's hard to take my own head off this chopping block of expectations.

I thought that making decisions about children would be simple, straightforward. What once seemed like a logical progression--want kids, have kids, raise kids--is in reality a bit convoluted. There are factors that few women think about from the time they're "feeding" baby dolls with blue plastic spoons to the time they're standing at the altar, newly cognizant of marital implications.

I trust God's timing, and well that I do. I've tried to control my life enough to know that it's not prudent to get stuck on what I want when it want it. I know God is good. I am glad that I can say that with confidence--a few months ago, I couldn't have, because it didn't feel true.

Oh, there you have it. The issue is still feelings. I balk at my myself when I read about or discuss  babies, see moms pushing strollers around the mall or watch toddlers run around the sanctuary showing off their cool squeaky shoes because I feel the desire for motherhood bubble up inside me. It's been disconcerting, lately.

I wish there were an on-off switch for emotions. I would flip the motherhood switch off for a time.

I fear. I fear my own incompetence as much as I fear my discontent.

I cannot just push those feelings aside and expect them to go away. I don't know what to do with them except to acknowledge them and say, "No matter what comes, Lord, your plan is good, and you are worthy of all our trust. You are not a God of fear or discontent, and in this, like all other areas of my life, you will guide me and do your work in me, growing me to be ever more like your Son."

Peasant and Queen, and the Man Who Pulls Me Onto the Dance Floor

I just returned from Anthony and Megan PLOPPER'S wedding (Chris was a groomsman and I was a last-minute door-opener)! It was gospel-centric, and simply beautiful.

Weddings are fun, especially if you know people there. I managed to meet some more neat people from RUF (why are all of them so cool? It's hardly fair), as well as make friends with Megan's energetic little sister, Holly. Holly wanted to play "peasant and queen" in the sanctuary before everyone showed up.

---

Peasant and Queen

Basically, dear reader, the game is as follows: Holly shows up at my castle while I -- the queen -- am delivering a eulogy for my late best soldier, who happened to be a woman. Holly proves herself an even better soldier by slaying an Ogre, and I hire her.

Next, a non sequitur: I sneak out of the castle with a quintessential scarf over my head to "see the world," a la Princess Jasmine in "Aladdin." I meet Holly's next character -- a, uh, pie maker. Said pie maker takes me to her secret lair where she has carved all kinds of beautiful statues. She reveals that not only is she an artistic genius, she knows magic! Gasp! She makes me look into a cup covered in rhinestones -- whatever I ask, the cup shows me. I consequently discover that my current captain of the guard is a traitorous fiend who is going to overthrow me. Bummer.

Oh yeah, Holly reveals she was the queen of my land once...but she got kicked out. She still has her crown (identical to mine, may I add) tucked away to prove it. As the queen, I don't know how I feel about that...

Finally, I got tired and went to hang out with the bride and bridesmaids. I don't think Holly was too happy that the queen abdicated her throne just when we were freeing the horses from the clutches of the evil captain. Especially since my horse, Hurricane, was leading the group.

---

The Man Who Pulls Me Onto the Dance Floor

The hip-hop music begins to throb on the dance floor. I sit by the flickering, blue candle at the table, tapping my fingers, smiling at all the fun dancers doing their fun thing.

Suddenly -- to my sheer shock and puzzlingly-pleasing dismay -- Chris jumps up, grabs me by the hand and pulls me toward the floor. He's never done such a thing, since I'm usually the first on the dance floor. I protest forcefully. I don't want to make a fool of myself. He grins -- that big, endearing, shining smile of his. "Hey, I'm going to go out there and look crazy, so you can look crazy with me!" He points out that we won't be the only ones jumping around as white as white can be. "I know you'll have fun! I know you want to bust out your hip-hop moves!"

I start protesting more forcefully. Finally, though, he gets me onto the dance floor. I take a few steps, and then smile suddenly, picking up the pace until I'm hopping around like a maniac, too.

That's my husband for you. That may seem like a simple thing, but it's indicative of his wonderful love towards, and understanding of, me. Chris reminds me of who I am. He draws me out of me. He knows my heart, and when I am too bashful to do what I want to do (like get to know new people at my table rather than retreat into my shell of shyness) or be as spirited as I want to be, he helps make sure I don't regret the day by gently nudging me to simply live. He is the man who teaches me about that lovely phrase, carpe diem.

Utterly Despicable!

My writing prof sent us this link today as an example of how we can use our skills to get the word out about these awful things.

I had marginal knowledge of this infanticide; this is the first time I've ever read an in-depth article about it. I think I stayed naive for longer than most people do, but let me tell you, my bubble burst awhile ago. Human nature is bad.

Even though--since my Sunday school days--I acknowledged that we were born into sin, I subconsciously held to what I call the "Diary of Anne Frank" principle. The last two lines of the well-known play are as follows:

Anne: In spite of everything, I still believe people are really good at heart.
Mr. Frank: She puts me to shame.

I try to give humans the benefit of the doubt, which very quickly turns into believing that humanity is overall decent. Call me a cynic (well, don't, if you can help it), but the world is not decent at all. Not like I thought as a child, or a teenager, or a freshman in college.

There really is a war raging underneath the realm of the visible, and it is in the heart of man. We are as capable of hateful hurt and violence as we are of profound and abiding love.

There is hope in the gospel, and really, that's all I have to lean on when it comes down to it.

"I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

"For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience." (Romans 8:15-26)

The Weight of Disappointment

Folks, do you remember my previous post about babies? If you don't, take a look-see.

Wonderful. Thank you!

I'm writing to announce...that I am NOT pregnant. And, oddly enough, I've been devastated all morning and afternoon.

When I wrote the baby post, I obviously wasn't going to voice my suspicions that the pregnancy guess might be an accurate one. To make a long story short, I experienced a string of potential pregnancy symptoms this week that had me, in my idealistic fervor, believing there was a little baby inside. Chris and I waited out the week: he kept back his own opinion so as to not intensify my already-confused emotions.

Ah, emotions. This week has been filled with moments of terror juxtaposed with moments of high excitement.

I repeatedly told myself I wouldn't think about the possibility of a baby, especially since it would overthrow all our plans and freak out my family. However, my thinking about not thinking about it just made me think about it.

I can't describe the emotions wrapped up in the idea. I kept telling my husband that "I don't know how to feel." Parenthood is a hugely serious thing, and at the moment when I put my hand on my tummy and said, laughingly, "Are you in there?" the implications began to hit me at full speed, and I summarily stopped laughing. I was caught in the netherworld between joyous hope and debilitating fear.

A week of confusion, ending with the conclusion I subconsciously expected in the first place. I shed a lot of tears today.

I feel silly, but at the same time I know that this feeling of mourning, if you will, is somehow legitimate.

I'm writing to empty my mind of the secret that has been wanting to burst out for seven days.

I'm at peace, now, because God is faithful and good. I realize He understands emotion--truly "called for" or not--and comforts well. He is a great listener! I can only hope and pray that this experience pours greater faith into me. The sadness will probably return in some degree, I know, but I consider this another chip off my barrier to surrender. Which, as all will agree in the end, is entirely worth the disappointment.