End of the Rope

I grew up as a PK - Preacher's Kid. My dad, who is now on hiatus, is an awesome pastor. People understand him, they "get" his sermons, and in his quiet, non-assuming way, he "gets" them, too. However, I think that deep down, my dad is first and foremost a farmer. He's farmed all his life, and he's good at that, too!

When we were growing up, we'd have various animals in the barn, outside, in the house - it was wild sometimes. We had a goat for a while which we kept tied to a post on our lawn. It would munch on the grass, shearing a golf green of sorts. It had a nasty temper though, and it was easily provoked. We'd stand just out of reach of it's rope and egg it on until it would drop it's head and run at full tilt to butt us across the yard. Silly goat - it never realized that we were standing only a couple feet beyond it's reach. It would run at full speed, until the rope snapped taut and the poor beast's body would slingshot toward the outside of the circle while the rope kept it's head and neck inside the circle. It was great fun, until one day, the post got loose without our realizing it....good times.

Anyway, the reason I'm posting this story is because it reminded me of our Philippines journey. When Newlife first became an option for us, I felt like God just threw me a whole pile of rope and I just ran with it. Then - snap - I reached the end of the leash, and God reeled me back in to the post. Slowly, slowly, I feel like He's been feeding me the rope an inch at a time, sometimes taking back a couple, but doing it slow and steady rather than at breakneck speed like last time. It's hard to know if I'll end up at the edge of the circle, or maybe just in the middle, but I am going somewhere. Somewhere.

Here are a few examples -
*I've been reading more birth stuff, with a renewed zest.
**I struck up a conversation with one of the moms at Preschool and turns out she's Filipina! She's given me advice, caution and has offered to get in touch with some missionaries she knows in the Philippines.
***Rich and I have decided that if someone offers to buy the house, it will be our sign. Obviously, not our only sign, and not the make or break of it all, but it would be like a smack on the back of the head to get our butts in gear. No one has offered, but, again, out of the blue, we met up with a couple who mentionned that they had put an offer on it before us...and, also out of the blue, a client of mine has expressed interest in pursueing a career in electrolysis - perhaps buying me out. Not that I don't like my job, but I've been hemming and hawing on whether to continue with it.

It's a hmmmm kind of day.

NOTE - For those who read the last post - I am feeling MUCH better! I'm all healed up, although still tired and a bit dazed. God is good - and He does work in mysterious ways. I think the Mastitis was just a way for Him to tell me to shape up and start taking better care of myself. More sleep, more water, better food. He's only given me one body - I better get the best use out of it as I can.

Breasts and the Rest

Sorry, no pics for this one. LOL

Well, this has been a different kind of week. Today was the day I was to job shadow with a midwife in Maine. This has been months in the making, so I've been counting down the days. Then, last night, I started feeling not so good. Really not so good. First was the nausea, then my skin started to hurt, my hair started to hurt. My body started aching, I got so cold I couldn't stop shaking despite the fireplace on full crank and the winter jammies and pile of blankets. Then, I was too hot. No sleep, and a killer headache. I figured that this crazy week had done me in and I'd given myself the flu. But, no, as I stepped into the shower I noticed it - red, puffy and tender to the touch - I've got Mastitis.

I cancelled everything for that day, job shadow included. I hope she will understand and allow me to re-book with her.

I spent 3 hours in the emergency room to get an antibiotic prescription. I knew what I had, I knew what I needed, but no doctor will fill a prescription without actually checking me out. So, I sat and sat and sat. Finally, I was ushered into the ER treatment area and as soon as the nurse asked me how I was, I started bawling. All I could manage was, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so t-t-tired!" She was a sweetheart, though, and talked with me a bit.

Finally, a doctor and nurse came to see me. The poor doctor was clearly uncomfortable. He asked me how old my baby was, and when I said 10 months, he responded, "That's quite old to be nursing." At my chilly stare, he swallowed, and sputtered, "That's the perfect age to nurse." I would have smiled, but I just wanted out of there. Finally, he asked that I change into a gown while he stepped behind a curtain. The nurse fussed and made sure I was covered up. When he returned, gloved up, he apologetically prodded and pressed. He reminded me of a shy, awkward 14 year old boy - not sure what to do with his hands. I think they're so afraid of being slapped with a sexual harrassment suit that they have to be extra careful.

Anyway, I left with my prescription, too late to go to the Dr. Jack Newman conference, and frankly, too sick to care all that much. Although, I'm pretty sure I saw him cross the hospital foyer with a crowd of doctors surrounding him - perhaps hoping to woo him to our little hospital. That would be nice.