Mother's Day: Then and Now

Here is a picture of what my Mother's Day looked like last year:

I got my very first breakfast-in-bed on Mother's Day complete with some beautiful flowers (from the hospital and my in-laws).

So grateful for how time changes things and grows us. I was so naive and clueless in that first picture. I still kinda am, but OH! how much I've learned since then!

Last year on Mother's Day, we got to bring our little guy home from the hospital. I was so thrilled and anxious to be home with him and to start playing "house."  He, on the other hand, enjoyed my womb the hospital a little more than home at that point. Just getting everything together and organized to leave the hospital had been quite the production and by the time we actually got home, he was a screaming tyrant in the backseat. And pretty much stayed that way the whole day and wouldn't eat...at all. I had been so naive and so determined to breastfeed that I had not even registered for bottles. They send home tons of free formula from the hospital, but even if I had wanted to give it to him, (I absolutely did NOT want to give it to him) I had no vehicle for it. I remember my mom and my sister running to the nearest store to buy the cheapest bottle they could find.

And then after a few hours of helping us get settled and somewhat adjusted, they left. And it was just the 3 of us. At home. Alone. Our little family. I think Matt and I were both elated and terrified. And already horribly exhausted.

What a memorable first Mother's Day!

And here we are about a year later:

He's healthy and alive. And so am I. Thank the Lord! Ha!

I had such a sweet day with my boys! We went to church that morning and came home for a brief time because we were planning to meet with Matt's family a little later. (We had already celebrated Mother's Day with my family the day before, after celebrating Allison's graduation.) Josiah fell asleep in the car and Matt and I both accidentally fell assleep at home, but woke up to join his parents and Josh and Kimberly for lunch. Such a great time with them! I'm so grateful for such a wonderful family of in-laws.

We really had no plans for that evening which is quite odd for us for a Sunday evening, so we took a spontaneous trip to get some frozen yogurt. And of course, Josiah enjoyed some as well. I think we've created a little frozen yogurt monster.

I absolutely love being a Mommy and every day truly is Mother's Day with these guys, but it sure is nice to be honored a little extra.


Hope you all enjoyed a very sweet and memorable Mother's Day as well.

Congratulations Doesn't Even Begin To Cover It

This time of year is always such a bittersweet time when you work in college ministry. You have 3-5 years to build a relationship with someone; to allow your lives to be intertwined with theirs; to carry their burdens and celebrate their victories. You become family with them. Sometimes even closer than an actual family member.

All this time spent has the express purpose of helping them figure out who they are to become; in society and in Christ.

You encourage them to go to class and to study. And to make choices that are eternally invested. And it all leads up to the one day when they will graduate from college and be a member of the "Real World." (Not the atrocious show, but actual life.)

Yesterday and today marks this bittersweet time for several of my dear friends. Graduation day. And while I could easily devote an entire post to each of these and what their lives and friendships have meant to me, I only have time for a short explanation.

I'll start with Becca since I met her more recently. Here she is with my 6 day old son.

This girl is so near and dear to my heart. From the moment I met her, I knew deep in my heart that she was a rare breed of Godly Woman. She absolutely refuses to settle for mediocre and her every action exudes godliness. I'm so grateful for the specific ways the Lord has intertwined her life with mine. Her friendship means the world to me.


And her story isn't as bittersweet because she's staying with us for a little longer while she continues her education at UH!!!! Yay! Becca, we get to be sisters again!

Next is Emily.

I've told her this story before and I think it kinda freaked her out a little, but hopefully, looking back, she can see just how true it was.

I met Emily in the beginning of the Spring semester of 2010. The Fall semester had been a rough one for us. We had prayed the Summer before that the Lord would send us the people that no one else wanted or would love. And he did. We met many people that were a challenge for us. And the good news is that they all, though they were a little (or a lot) rough around the edges, met with the Lord and became beautiful people. But by the end of the Fall semester we were exhausted and hadn't yet seen the fruit of our tears and prayers and time spent.

We were sitting, talking about this and someone very wise spoke up and said, "This time, let's pray for a few who already love the Lord and will be an encouragement to us and will join us to fight along side us for these souls." So we did.

And then we met Emily. And we all knew immediately that she came to UH just at that moment in time to be a breath of fresh air and an encouragement. And she has been that and so much more to us. But to me, personally, she has been such a faithful friend. And I've watched her go from someone who, indeed, loves the Lord with all her heart, to someone who is committed to the growing of His Kingdom. Emily graduated yesterday and is leaving to continue her education as well. But there's always a home for her in my heart. From now on, anything that happens in Chi Alpha at UH will be directly because of her and her choice to honor the Lord with her time at school.

Emily, you did it! You didn't think you could, but you did. And you did it well! The Lord must be pleased by you.

And now, for someone I've known a lot longer than these others. And truly someone I could write a book full of stories and ways she's impacted my life. But I think she'd rather me show up to celebrate her graduation today than sit here all day writing about it. So, it'll have to be brief.

Allison, you have become to me what it really means to be a sister. I so much admire and respect you in the things of God. You have proven that the Lord has a firm and very specific call on your life to minister to those that many would write off as useless. You have the most tender heart of anyone I've ever known and He has used that quality to touch the hearts and lives of so many. But the most exciting and encouraging thing is that what you've accomplished for His Kingdom, is only a mere scratch. I truly believe you are making history. I absolutely believe it...with all my heart. You are changing lives and changing the way other people view those lives and it will change our world. You are such a big deal to me and I love what you have become.

There will be jokes for the next how-many-ever years about you being the first to continue your education and be the smartest in the family. But the truth will be that we're all profoundly proud and deeply honored to know you.

I love you, Sister. 

I love all of you. And I realize there are others who graduate this weekend and I'm probably leaving out some that do mean a lot to us. But these are on my heart this morning and I just wanted to honor them for their faithfulness and love to me.



Congratulations! Happy Graduation!

One Year Later

It's amazing how I can remember almost every single detail, in vivid color, exactly what happened on this very night one year ago. I'm aware that probably nobody but me (and maybe my mom) has any bit of interest in some of these details. But I write this for my own memory's sake. Because in five or ten years, it won't be so vivid anymore and I'll weep because it was so long ago and so hard to recall. And then I'll read this. And I'll remember. And I'll probably still weep because it'll seem like just yesterday.

So please feel free to click away and not read. Or please feel free to stay and live the experience with me. Yes, it'll be long.

So the story goes that after eating an evening meal of grilled chicken salads and packing up the last of the essentials, Matt and I took a few pictures together and climbed into the car. We pulled out of the driveway as a couple. Just the two of us. We were as nervous as a Kindergartner on a first day of school, not knowing what was next or how it was all gonna happen. Of course, we had a general knowledge and some small idea, but truly, we were clueless. And ecstatic. And scared. And anxious.

We found parking in the the parking garage across the street from the hospital and got lost in the halls. I was pretty sure (and VERY hopeful) that I'd go into labor right then and there. You see, I was already 9 days overdue with our little boy. My "due date" (whatever that means) was April 26th. It was May 4th. And just the day before at yet another ob appointment, my doctor confirmed that we just couldn't keep him in there any longer. So, he instructed us to check into the hospital at 7:30 on Wednesday evening so that I could be induced early the next morning.

We were so bummed. Nothing was going according to plan (ha! it still never goes according to plan!) and we were just so ready to meet this babe, but we wanted it to be in his timing. But as we learned, sometimes you just have to help them along and trust who knows best.

So, we checked into the hospital and got settled into the room. Before I even had a chance to use the restroom or get comfortable, I was all hooked up to a number of annoying machines. And the sounds of our little boy's tiny, strong heartbeat filled the room. I wish we had thought to capture more (or any at all) pictures of this waiting time. This is the part that's the most of a blur to me.

I remember the sweet nurse who was with us that night. She was so patient and persistent as she tried so hard to get a steady and constant pick-up of Josiah's heartbeat. He was (and still is) very, shall we say, independent and didn't like "being pinned down." So any time she had the monitor in the right place to get his heart beat, he would move and it would be gone. And she would have to come back in the room and try to find it again. After about the 13th time (no exaggeration!) I wanted to tell her to go find somebody else's heartbeat.

It wasn't just her. (And she really was so super sweet.) It was the constant flow of random people coming and going from the room ALL NIGHT LONG. Did they forget that we were there to have a baby and this was most definitely the last possible chance for a full, decent night's sleep? Apparently.

The next morning, Cinco de Mayo, even before the sun came up, they were in my room again giving me some kind of pills that were supposed to induce labor. They worked. My doctor also came in and broke my water. For the next 9 or so hours I labored. I experienced the agony joy of contractions. But they weren't normal, how-it's-supposed-to-be contractions. No, they were medicinally-induced contractions. They came fast and furious. I did okay for awhile. I breathed and closed my eyes and would just listen to the soft worship music playing in the room. But after awhile, one off-the-charts contractions would start before the last one was even over. Whoa. Intense. My body had no time to relax. I was really starting to have a tough time. The nurses (who had switched at this point) and my doctor came in to check to see how far I was dilated/effaced. He said I was about 4cm dilated, 50% effaced. Not bad, but definitely not sufficient progress. With this gloomy news, I decided there was no way I would have enough energy to push a human being out of me after another couple hours of this. Just before noon, much to my (then) disappointment, I opted for an epidural.

That was an experience worth a post by itself. If you've had one, you know. If you haven't had an epidural, let's just say...it's complicated. And add to the fact that right as the fat needle was going in my spine, I had another fairly intense contraction. Also, they normally don't allow the dads to stay in the room, but Matt stayed for some reason. And I was grateful. Except for the part when he and the anesthesiologist were chatting away about The Netherlands and the old country and Dutch last names and blah, blah, blah. Umm...hello. You are sticking fat needles in my spine. Let's stay focused here. Thank you.

The disappointment in myself did not last very long. Before too long, I was feeling good. My legs felt crazy strange and really, really itchy. But man, I was feeling good. Good.
*It was weird. I could tell I was having a contraction because everything got tight, but I felt no pain.

My mom showed up about 5 minutes after I got the epidural. I now know that she had rushed to get across town to come to my rescue and help me through the agony of labor just to arrive to find out that her wuss of a daughter got the drugs. Thanks anyway, Mom.
*My Dad was sadly out of town and couldn't be there that day. He got to meet Josiah the day after we brought him home from the hospital. 

Not long after my mom arrived, Matt's parents both showed up. We sat around and chatted for a bit and they laughed at me for being so certain of my plan for how this birth was gonna happen and how vastly opposite it was turning out.

They all (Matt, my mom, Matt's parents) decided they would go down to the cafeteria and get some lunch to give me a chance to take a nap. That's right. I took a nap. While in the throes of labor. Welcome to Epidural World! Of course, it wasn't completely satisfying, seeing as how nurses and other random people (really, no clue who some of these people were or why they were in there...kinda disturbing thinking back on it all) kept waltzing in and out every 5 minutes. But still, it was a little bit of rest.

After about an hour and half of nap time, around 2:30ish, my doctor walked in the room. Mind you, everybody was still gone, eating lunch and giving me time and space to rest. He woke me up, asked how I was feeling. And then the man proceeded to tell me that he was sending me to be prepped for surgery. (!!!!!!) He said he had been watching Josiah's heart beat and my labor activity on his computer back in his office (across the street) and it looked like Josiah was getting tired. He said he could tell because normally, the baby's heart beat will fluctuate with the ups and downs of contractions but that his had been pretty steady and he was concerned that he was exhausted and just needed to be taken out. I wasn't as shocked as I should've been, I guess. I had a feeling this would happen, but I was still very freaked out that no body was in there with me. I asked if I could talk to my husband first, but when I called, he didn't answer his phone. Officially freaking out. How do not answer your phone when your wife is upstairs in a hospital room alone about to have your child at any moment!?!?

That's when our moms both walked in the room. I asked them where Matt was and they said he was talking to the guy at the financial aid department to see if we could get a little help paying for this baby. I remember saying that that was important because it looked like it was gonna be more expensive than we thought.

Everything at this point is fairly blurry to me. Somehow or another I must've communicated to Matt to get his rear to the room because they were threatening to cut his darling wife open. We all sat in the room and prayed and asked the Lord if this cup could be passed from me, but nevertheless, not my will but Thine, O Lord. And we asked the nurse if she thought my doctor would be willing to hold off on the cesarean if they did another check and I was more dilated. So, they did a quick check before wheeling me into surgery...no progress.

So, off I went. Down the hallway, on a bed. With wheels. And railing. In a hospital gown. Visions of scenes from shows like ER from my childhood flashed through my mind. You know, the ones where they're being rushed off to surgery and they have a terrified look on their face like they know they'll probably never make it out? I knew that wasn't me. No, I knew that I had to come out, because there was gonna be a baby on the other end of this surgery. And he needed a mommy.
*Another funny note about this scenario: I also distinctly remember thinking that I should've paid more attention to this part in the hospital tour, but I had been so certain that I would not be needing this information. Call me stubborn.

Matt wasn't allowed in at first. So, I went in with the nurses. I couldn't tell if it was really that freezing cold in there or if it was just the effects of the drugs mixing with my nervousness. But I remember shaking so bad. So bad that I asked the anesthesiologist if it was normal for me to be shaking this bad. He looked kinda concerned which made me even more concerned. Which probably just made me shake even more. Looking back, I wasn't so nervous about the surgery, but more so about that fact that I was about to meet my son. Well, that was until I looked up and noticed a big, bright, metal lamp that was a little too much on the reflective side, hanging directly over me. Then I got nervous about the surgery. And I got even more nervous when they tied my arms downs and put a huge, heavy blanket over them. I shouldn't have asked why they did that...but I did. That's when I started singing "The House of God Forever" (Jon Foreman's song version of the 23rd Psalm...beautiful) over and over in my head.

Matt came in the room and sat up by my head. I can't remember if I asked him to start singing it out loud, but I remember wanting him to.

As they were cutting me open, Matt and the doctors operating on me had another nice, little conversation about how everybody in the room had last names that were foreign of some sort. I was super thrilled about this conversation taking place while I was being operated on and while I was anticipating the birth of my son.

And then they said it. They said they saw him. That they were about to pull him out. I started crying. It was 3:49pm. And he screamed. So loud. And I cried more. It was the best sound I had heard in my life. Then they showed him to me. And I had already prepared myself, that no matter what method of birth, he was not gonna look cute...not yet. And I was right.

But then they cleaned him up and bundled him and came and put him on my chest. He was still crying, but it only took a few moments of me talking to him until he got silent. And he was looking at me like he knew me somehow. And my heart immediately understood what it was like to unconditionally love another human being. I unconditionally love my husband now, but he had to earn that love for a time at first. Josiah, my son, my impossibly tiny baby boy, couldn't have done anything to earn my unconditional love. But he had it. And I understood, in a very small way, what the heart of the Father feels for us. We've never done anything to earn his love, but what His heart holds for us is unfathomable.

And what my heart held for that tiny bit of a human being in that moment was unfathomable. But what's even harder to comprehend is how much that love has grown over this last year. I loved that fresh, newborn baby boy, but he didn't have much of a personality yet.

This little boy can melt the hardest part of my heart in an instant with his crazy-tooth smile or his goofy, little laugh. And even when he laughs after I get on to him for something, or has an absolute meltdown because I put him down for 10 seconds, I can't help but love him even more. Even as I type this, I've told him "No!" several times. He LOVES trying to touch the computer and just can't resist banging on it. He knows he's not supposed to, but does it anyway. And I love him more for his persistence.

It's only been a year since I met him. My heart can't handle the thought of how much I might love him or how much richer my life will be in another 5 or 10 years.

Josiah Schaeffer Hoogendoorn, you have brought so much light and life to our days. This has been one of the best years of mine and Daddy's lives together. And we're so, so, so excited to celebrate your precious, little life tomorrow. And even more excited to watch you grow and learn. And our greatest joy will be when your little heart someday experiences the same love and joy you bring to us.

We love you! Happy Birthday, Little Buddy!