When the Army Gives you a Choice

Late fall/early winter was a busy, chaotic season for us. We found out DH came out on the MAJ list – Yay! Praise the Lord! - then we found out he came out on the list for resident ILE. Here we were, all set and ready to move to Ft. Gordon when this little twist cropped up. Not to mention the fact that we were just about to celebrate the holidays with both sets of families on opposite coasts, and our move was just 2 months away. Now, I'm very familiar with orders being changed at the last minute so this wasn't what shook me. What shook me was that we had a choice. DH could turn this down, and we could still go to Gordon. Wait, what? The Army was giving us a choice? Whoever heard of such a thing!

This was definitely a time to pray for wisdom! So that's exactly what we did. In all our prayer times together as a couple, as a family, we prayed that God would make it clear what we should do. We consulted our parents, DH's respected superiors, and we asked our extended family and friends to pray, as well. It seemed like this was one of those decisions where neither one was particularly right or wrong, at least in God's eyes. Leavenworth was a nice compliment to DH – showing him that he is well-respected (not everyone gets to go, especially as a Functional Area). So we began to wonder if turning it down would be really bad for his career. As Christians in the military, it can be difficult to weigh if God wants the service member to pursue his career to such excellence so as to be put in a high position to influence others for Christ, or whether to show with one's decisions (the few we get in the military), that he prioritizes family over career.

In talking with some of DH's fellow functional area superiors, he found that going to resident ILE was not a make or break issue as far as his career was concerned. If he wanted to be a General, then yes, he should pursue it. If not, then satellite ILE would be sufficient.

In my heart, I was nervous that we might have to move to Leavenworth. Ft. Gordon was safe to me. We'd been there before, we still knew people there, we'd be within driving distance of my parents. It seemed like a no-brainer to me! But then again, I will always choose what is comfortable and safe.

Yet, even for me, as I started to think about it and pray about it, I realized this could be an adventure and exactly what God wanted us to do! It could be fun to go to KS, to be with some of DH's classmates from college and their wives who I hadn't seen in 9 years. I wanted to communicate to DH that we could do this! I did not want to be the one influencing his decision and putting pressure on him to take Ft. Gordon because it would make me happy. I've watched far too many Army wives make that move and later regret it. I did not want to make the same mistake, and I knew I was in danger of making it.

I'm not sure if I handled it correctly, but I told him that if he wanted to go to resident ILE, we could do it! I would be in full support, and we'd make an adventure out of driving cross-country again with our now 3 year old. It would be fun to be in a school environment, especially with so many friends we had known years before. Reconnecting with old Army buddies is one of the best parts about moving around! Plus, it would be a longer school term as opposed to just the few short months of satellite ILE, which means more family time. There were a lot of positives to this decision...which again made it so difficult.

I think DH appreciated my support, though he could probably tell what my real heart's desire was (um, guess I still need to work on that!). I'm not sure hearing my verbal support helped him by making the decision any easier. We were both seeing the good and the bad of this and almost wanted someone – anyone – to tell us what to do! Decisions that are not cut and dry are so much harder to make!

As Christians, we are taught to read the Bible, pray, and seek godly counsel when faced with a decision. Some are easier to make than others. And this one did not fall into that category. Again, we were thinking, why can't the Army just tell us what to do, like they do with almost every other part of our lives. Nevertheless, we read the Bible, we prayed, and we sought godly counsel. Ultimately, the decision was in DH's hands, and I began to fervently pray for him. This was a big weight on his shoulders, and I felt helpless. Aren't wives supposed to help and support their husbands?! I felt very inadequate. I do not know what I would do if I couldn't pray. That was the only way I knew how to help. That and to keep my opinions to myself and just give DH space and time to think.

When it was crunch time and a decision had to be made, DH chose to decline resident ILE and accept satellite. We were both relieved. I think. Maybe I was more relieved than he was. Either way, God had given us peace. We at least knew where we were going, and I breathed a big sigh of relief that it wouldn't be a hard move...or so I thought. Funny how we think one thing and then something completely different happens!

All Good Things Must Come to an End...Even If You Don't Want Them To

Some seasons in our lives are amazing, and we don't want them to end. Some are more like winter, and we're glad when spring starts to poke through the layers of snow. In military life, this is no exception. When DH first started grad school, I wasn't so sure I would like this new "season" of our journey together. It was not as I expected. By the final semester though, we got in our groove, and despite the fact that we knew it would end when he graduated, I was still not quite ready for it.

We had an amazing summer with loads of quality family time - just what my heart needed! We traveled: Disney World, the beach, my parents' house. We stayed home, and I began volunteering at a crisis pregnancy center (in an attempt to obey the urgency God was placing in my heart - see last post). I was surprised by what God taught me.

All of that fun made time pass quickly and before I knew it, we were beginning the fall semester, and with that - the start of preschool. My 1st time mama heart was shaking with excitement, fears, anxieties, and the like. Tears were most definitely shed that 1st morning I dropped her off. I prayed for her constantly and tried to be one of the first ones in the car line. (Is my daughter seriously old enough to be in a car line?!) She had a great day, and I was instantly put at ease. 2 days a week of this schedule provided me just enough time to continue volunteering at the pregnancy center, grocery shop, and clean my house (DD hates the vacuum!) I began feeling like I had a life outside of just being a mom!

Also, DH began his final semester of grad school. His classes were challenging, as usual, but we seemed to find our routine a little easier and faster this time around.

I decided to stop attending CBS and go to my church's ladies' Bible study, which I instantly loved. The women were so warm and welcoming. They took time to get to know me, and we separated into groups of 4-5 women so I felt like I could really share my heart and life. It was just what I needed to feel more connected.

DH and I also began a small group at our church, which was an interesting experience. It definitely left us with a hunger to do more of this in our next place, preferably with military families. I was hopeful that we could spearhead something like that after we moved.

All in all, life felt well-balanced. I had been striving for that, and I felt as though we achieved it. Our schedule was busy but still allowed for down time. We were serving both in church and in the world. DD was learning and growing and being exposed to new environments. DH was working hard and juggling family time, hobbies, and trying to graduate with some not-so-easy project partners and some not very well-trained instructors, but of course, excelling regardless.

Things were, of course, not perfect. I found things to stress over, and God was working hard to break me of my control. I am trying to surrender...still. I felt that I had grown though, and I am grateful that He continues working on me and allowing me to see progress.

So just when things started to feel settled and "normal," this season had to end, and we had to move. I was left feeling discouraged and disappointed, thinking and planning, wondering how I would re-create this delicate balance at our next duty station. I knew it would be different, and it would not look the same way it did then. Would it be better? Worse? I wasn't sure. I wish I enjoyed the puzzle - trying to figure out how it's all going to look. The fact is, I just don't. So with this next move, as with all the others before it, I had to surrender and be patient, enjoy the present, and let God handle it. Easier said than done.

Introvert Problem: Talking to Others

Summer - literally a new season - also figuratively for me last year. As my husband continued to pursue his master's degree on the Army's dime, our summer last year looked quite a bit different than any we have experienced before. DH was home much more than he was even during the school year, and I had a sense of urgency. The Lord was impressing on my heart that I needed to do more in my life, especially in the area of outreach. I serve my family, I serve at church, but I do absolutely nothing when it comes to serving non-believers. The reason, when I boil everything else down, is because it makes me uncomfortable. Non-believers are very different from me. They talk differently, parent differently, and have vastly different areas of interest. Knowing these things sends my little introverted heart into instant panic mode.

My pastor recently encouraged us as a congregation just to simply start a conversation. I am terrible at this! Everything I think to say to someone sounds absolutely ridiculous in my head so I know it will sound downright foolish if it leaves my mouth! I clam up and run back to the comfort and safety of my house. This leads to a simple going and coming ritual I participate in throughout my day-to-day life.

I like to blame my daughter for this. Since she is still young (preschoolish), when I am out somewhere with her, I literally only see her. I suppose it's some sort of mother bear protection mode or whatever you want to call it. The fact is, however, I honestly do not see people around me anymore. If I were a witness to a crime, and the police stopped to question me, I would be as helpful as a blind person. Seriously. So if I do not even see people, how can I even begin to talk to them? I suppose this is the first step. I need to pray God would give me eyes to see. Then I can pray He will give me words to speak.

I do not know why I am so fearful of talking to others, especially non-believers. I don't even want to tell them about Jesus with the first words I speak. I much prefer to build a relationship first. Yet I am struggling just to do that!

The fact of the matter is though that God has called us to a life of service and sacrifice. Sacrifice to an introvert like me might mean starting a conversation with someone instead of holing up inside my house. Serving others might mean giving of my peaceful, quiet solitude to be among people, listening to them and helping them with their day-to-day lives. Am I not even willing to do that? Have I made comfort so much of an idol in my life that I will not even adjust my schedule or stop what I'm doing to look someone in the eye while in the checkout line? Yes, the truth is, I have.

This is a battle I constantly have to fight. I fought it last summer, and managed to make some gains. However, when we moved this past winter, I am finding that this is still a problem for me. I must get outside of my comfort zone and expand the walls of my world. If there are any other introverts out there, how do you do it? How do you follow the command to go and make disciples? Especially, when you're moving around and constantly starting over - when it can be a struggle just to make friends you are comfortable with, let alone stretching yourself to minister to others. Help, please!

Reintegration, PCSing, and the Start of a New Season - ACS

When my husband returned from his third deployment, we were overjoyed to see each other. Since he came home late at night, our daughter was already asleep in bed. The next morning was filled with excitement, as I watched her reunite with him for the first time since R&R...7 months ago! It was precious.

However, since DH returned just prior to a PCS, we never really got back to “normal” in the Army world. He did his 10 days of reintegration, a few days of work, block leave, and then we moved. It was a lot of change all at once.

DH (if you remember from previous posts) was selected for ACS (Advanced Civil Schooling), which basically means the Army would pay for him to get his master's degree as a full-time student. Accepted into a graduate program at a prestigious engineering school in the south, we relocated there just one month after his homecoming.

Despite the trials and hardships of moving across county, we were so excited to be together again with the promise of much family time – nothing like what it would have been like had we stayed where we were or moved to another post. No, this new season (graduate school) would be almost pure relaxation. After all, I married a brilliant man so it's not like he would have to study or anything. He would just go to class, do a little homework, and spend the rest of the time with DD and I making fun memories. Or so I thought...

I had a rude awakening about a month into the semester. DH was working late into the night and on weekends, coding or talking to group members about the latest project. It was terrible! There were no boundaries on when work began and when it ended. It just seemed to take over! My emotions did the same.

I was not happy. This is not what we signed up for, not what we expected. I knew my husband wasn't a workaholic, but I was beginning to wonder if he was turning into one.  Was this a side effect of deployment?  I knew he always worked hard and did his best, but this seemed all-consuming. I knew he wasn't trying to neglect us, but that is exactly how I felt – neglected.

I had just spent the last year alone, single-parenting our 2 year old. Was this just going to continue? Him leading his life and me leading mine? What about our marriage? What about working together? What about living life together?

I talked with DH and tried to express my frustration. He, of course, did not enjoy working these long hours but insisted it was what was required. 4 graduate level classes that were essentially all project-based required more time than he was even currently giving. He was already sacrificing to spend time with us.  And here I was the needy wife, constantly asking for more. Poor guy!

 

DH did the best he could, trying to do as much work during the week and saving weekends for family time. There were some weekends, however, when work had to come first, and I sulked. (I don't recommend that). It was a very trying time, but a breakthrough finally came when I talked with one of my dearest friends about the struggle.

She reminded me that my husband was in the Army and had just returned from a year-long deployment, where for all intents and purposes, he just had to take care of himself and do his job. Now he was home with not just a wife but a toddler as well. Not to mention the fact that his identity as an officer in the Army was essentially non-existent. He was a full-time student, fully immersed in a foreign world and one he did not fully enjoy or understand. Talk about light bulbs going on in my head! Of course! I needed to stop being selfish, take a step back, see things from his perspective, and give him GRACE! Was it ok to tell him I missed spending time with him and hoped we could do something together soon? Yes. But I did not need to complain or pout, even if it meant not getting a break from the endless “why” questions of a two year old.

How I am grateful for honest friends who hold me accountable and give me an outside perspective. Thanks be to God for not letting me continue in my sin but providing a way out (1 Cor. 10:13) and showing me how to build up and encourage my husband instead.

 

As a result of all this, I began praying more for my husband, specifically in the area of time management. I found a babysitter we could schedule weekly so we could attend a small group at our church and/or go on dates. That combined with changing my expectations and re-framing the situation made a world of difference. I still messed up from time to time, but my conscience was seared and I was quicker to amend the grievance. Our relationship as husband and wife began to deepen, once again, and I began to see things more clearly instead of constantly taking them personally. By Christmas, though we were both exhausted and spent, we had a renewed attitude for the upcoming semester.

I truly believe I might not have come to the same conclusion without the timely wisdom of my friend's gentle rebuke. And what a waste of time and what destruction I could have caused. I am so thankful that did not happen. The Lord knows we need community – people to live life with us and point us to Him. For me, community sometimes has to cross countries or oceans, phone lines or data plans, but no matter how it comes, it is powerful. God is so faithful. How I pray that you have at least one person in your life who you can share your heart with and who can provide you with insight and exhortation to do the right thing. I don't know how you could survive without it!

My God Redeems

I apologize for not updating sooner. Redeployment, block leave, PCSing, etc. have all happened in the last few months, and I've neglected some things. However, I cannot possibly share about all of that before I first explain how God redeemed this last deployment. Although in my last post, I felt like it would never end, I soon began to feel relief as the Lord answered my prayers. But first a little background...

During the second half of the deployment, I attended a Beth Moore Bible study at PWOC called Believing God. While I wasn't able to attend every session due to aforementioned illnesses, I did keep up with my homework and watched the videos online. Through this study, the Lord taught me many things. The most powerful part occurred one week when Beth Moore told us to do a timeline of our lives, even from before we were Christians. In this timeline, we had to record major events, as well as people God used or ways He was working, sometimes behind the scenes. This was such an encouraging activity, and I highly encourage you to write one yourself, especially if you are in a challenging season of life. As I was completing my timeline, deployments were a common theme, and things I had not thought about in years came back, reminding me of God's faithfulness. It brought me renewed peace and deeper hope.

As I was doing this homework, the end of the deployment was drawing closer and my husband and I began discussing when he might come home. We knew this was a year-long deployment, despite the fact that most other units were now serving 9 months overseas. Of course, my husband had to be in the unit that was the exception. While I was prepared to go the whole year, and possibly even longer (since you never know what the Army will throw at you), I was not prepared for the news my husband gave me one day while we were chatting online. I had been praying big prayers in my Bible study that semester and never doubted God, but I did doubt the reality of what happened next. My husband said he had good news. This could range from passing his PT test to having time to play soccer that day. However, on this day, good news meant that he had been approved to come home on an earlier flight! This flight would bring him back a month earlier than was expected. I was overjoyed at the news, not just to have my husband home sooner, which would be reason enough. This earlier timeline would also mean we would have more time before PCSing, and it would be right around my daughter's 2^nd birthday which I had been very upset about him missing. In addition, my mom would be staying with us so she would be able to take care of my daughter while my husband and I could get some much needed alone time. My God is a Redeemer in every sense of the word!

You see, if you've followed my story from our last deployment, you know that my husband had been extended a month longer than the 1 year mark during his second tour in Iraq. It was a very difficult time for me, after what had been a mostly successful deployment. The extension had long-term effects on me, teaching me to never count on the Army's timing. 

Although this 3^rd deployment was much tougher in many ways, God redeemed it. He gave me back that month that I lost in the 2^nd deployment by bringing my husband home an entire month earlier in the 3^rd deployment! Had I not done the timeline in my Bible study homework, these details would not have been as fresh on my mind. God is a master orchestrator, fine-tuning all the minute details of our lives to show His power. I love it when God decides to show off! How I pray He would do it more!

Will This Ever End?

It has been quite some time since I updated. DD and I have been sick every month since Christmas. It's been quite discouraging, and as a result, I feel as though I don't have anything positive to offer. I'm still trying to find the lesson in this myself so what good does it do to write a blog that just spews complaints? Probably not much good, but maybe it will help someone feel less alone.

That's what I've been feeling for the past 5 months. Isolated. Having a sick toddler means that we can't go about our regular schedules. I can't expose her to other children. And I often catch whatever she has. (Strep twice in one month, c'mon!) Then a week or two later, we start the same cycle all over again. I've been looking into all kinds of solutions/remedies. Maybe one will work. In the meantime, I struggle to be a good mom. The days are long, and I look at the clock and inwardly groan. My daughter is a delight. She makes me laugh out loud, but there are times when I feel as though I cannot pretend to have another cupcake party. It's mind-numbing monotony. I seriously feel like my brain cells are slowly dying off one by one. Stir crazy doesn't even begin to describe it. 

 

I run to the Lord and beg Him to give my life meaning. I am hungry for more. Why is it that raising a child and, therefore, leaving a legacy, feels so empty? It's incredibly important, but in the day-to-day, there is no weight to it. It's clear in times like this, that I need a break. But it's incredibly hard to get one. My husband is deployed, my babysitter isn't the easiest to schedule, and I have a hard time relaxing when I am away. Why does it take work to relax???

I know this is a season, but honestly, that doesn't always help. I can't always see beyond the here and now. I'm in this season, I can't see further than this season. I need God to be real to me, to meet the needs that I cannot meet in the typical ways to which I am accustomed (like going to Bible study, having a playdate with friends, etc). These are the days I feel like a slave to the baby monitor and a toddler's whims.

This deployment is almost over. It may seem like it will never end. But it will.  God is good.  No matter what.

P.S. I promise the next post will be more uplifting, even if it takes me another 6 months to write!

Up's and Down's



Deployments have their ups and downs. One huge “up” is R&R. These days with deployments being shortened to 9 months, not everyone gets it. Those of us lucky(?) enough to still do a year do get that time to reconnect with our spouse. During this particular deployment, R&R came just 4 months in – not exactly ideal if you're trying to break up the time. But God knew this was the perfect time for us. It was over Thanksgiving and just before Christmas, easy enough to celebrate both (which we did). For our little family, this meant a lot of fun packed into 2 weeks. Not only that, but being that we live in a state with bipolar weather patterns, we had days warm enough to go to the zoo and cold enough to play in the snow. The Lord orchestrated every moment, every detail to bring us closer together as a family. If you ever doubt how intimately God is involved in your life, I can give you several examples of how closely connected He is to our goings and comings.



Picking Daddy up from the airport

Zoo Fun

Snow Day

Yet even before R&R started, I dreaded the end. I worried how DD would react to DH leaving again. I stressed over how I would cope and get back to our routine. I bemoaned the fact that we weren't even halfway through this thing, and it would be quite a few more months (double what we'd already done, in fact) before we were reunited. I did not want to miss the joy, the connection, the memories, but my emotions overwhelmed me when I thought beyond the present moment.

 

Then I realized. I had to live R&R the same way I live every other day of this deployment – one day at a time. There simply is no other way to live, even when it's a “good” time. If I thought of the end, I wouldn't get to experience the elation of the beginning. If I thought of the goodbye, I wouldn't be able to revel in the anticipation of the welcome home. I had to make a conscious effort not to think beyond the present. It was hard, especially for a planner like me. There were times I would have to physically move to change my thoughts. But when I lived that day and that day only, I was so much happier, so much more content, so much more thankful, so much more present. My husband was appreciative too. He doesn't want to be reminded that he has to go back. Who does?!

Early Christmas

God continues to teach me (even in the good times) to rely on Him – not on circumstances, not on people, definitely not on feelings, not even on facts. He is the only One who can sustain me through the ebb and flow of life and keep me whole (/sane!) But I have to make the choice to surrender to Him, to look at just what He puts in front of me – not what's behind or 5 days in the future – and I have to look at how His hand never lets go of me, no matter how hard (or easy) it looks. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Heb 13:8). And He will never leave me (Deut 31:6). Not when it's good, not when it's bad, not when it's easy, not when it's hard. Not when DH deploys, not during R&R, not when DH goes back, not when DH comes home. Never, never, never.

How God Deals with Fear

A dark cloud. Heaviness. Oppression. Depression. Just couldn't shake the ominous, negative feeling I was having. It seemed to start when a woman in my Bible study admitted she had to have a very honest conversation with her six year old son. He asked about the reality of his deployed father coming home, and she told him there was no guarantee. This, of course, sparked further discussion and weeks of reassurances in their family. In my own heart, I began to seriously contemplate having this conversation with my daughter (when she is much older, of course), and I literally began to feel sick to my stomach. I honestly don't know if I can ever have that conversation. And perhaps, God wouldn't have it happen in quite that way in our family. Who knows.

The point is that I began to spiral downward fast. Over and over again I was hearing messages at church or Bible study, or reading in books that although God is good, there is no guarantee that our lives will be. Bad things happen to Christians just as often, if not more, than to unbelievers. This was not news to me, but it hit me much harder this time with all the repetition of this same message and my current life situation (i.e. deployment).

I began wondering if God was preparing me for something tragic to occur. Of course, I was totally missing the point. The point that I didn't need to fear those things because God would still be with me, He would see me through it. But rather than focusing on that, I chose to dwell on the negative, fearful things that could happen...maybe, possibly. The thing is I didn't feel like I was choosing it. I just felt miserable. Everything seemed to remind me of looming tragedy, from the songs we sang at church to TV shows I watched in an effort to escape my seemingly horrible reality.

As I began to analyze what was happening, I started to think of ways I could break free of the oppression. I couldn't stay like this.  I had to do something!  I started a praise devotional that encouraged me to listen to specific worship songs and journal details of how God was blessing me. The pages I read talked about worshiping God for who He is, in spite of the bad things in our lives.  Not as helpful as I hoped.  Then I started to throw my energy into making a really creative care package for DH. Doing things for others often helps me get out of a funk. Instead, a voice inside my head said, “you're doing all this work, but he may never even get it.” Matters were made worse when I skyped with him, and he told me he was going to be traveling. Fear seized my heart. My mind said, “this is it.”

In an effort to yet again escape these thoughts, which I knew were not of God, I called godly friends who encouraged me and prayed for me. It helped temporarily, but then my mind turned to a new direction – what if the tragedy God was seemingly preparing me for looked totally different. What if it was cancer or death of one of my close family members - my brother or parents? I began to envision horrible scenarios of heart-breaking phone calls. I prayed over and over, spent time in God's Word, took walks with DD, surrounded myself with people, and tried to eat more healthy, all in an effort to shake this. Yet nothing seemed to work. I began to think I may have to go back on anti-depressants because I surely could not live long-term like this.

It wasn't until the next Sunday when I heard yet another message of how God would be my shelter in the storm, that it finally clicked. I don't know what was specifically said, but I finally got it. The Lord broke through all of my pessimism, worry, and fear, shouting above the noise in my heart, that I didn't have to fear the storm. I didn't have to fear the war. He would always be with me. (We sang this song that summed it all perfectly). At that moment, peace flooded my heart and pushed out all the negative thoughts and feelings. I felt free. Free to live my life without fear of what might happen. Because it might actually never happen. And if it does, the Lord will carry me through the way He has helped me through everything else in my life, the way He has helped millions of others who experience tragedy daily.

This doesn't mean I won't pray my heart out  for protection of my family or won't every worry again. For example, DH never went on that trip, and I only just found out it was because the risk was so high, no one could leave the FOB. So when DH told me the next time he did have to travel, I worried. But God is faithful to remind me of this new lesson and teach me to trust Him afresh. He also continues to put this verse on my heart – Philippians 4:8 – and prods me to apply it diligently, even when I don't feel like it. It's a work in progress. I'm a work in progress, but I feel so much lighter and praise Him for His intimate involvement in my life. He sees me, and He sees you too.

Temporary Relief

During deployment, it is always helpful to have things to look forward to. For me, this usually involves a visit from family or close friends. In the past 3 months, DD and I have been blessed with 2 visits – one from my mom and the other from my college roommate and dear friend, who is really closer to a sister.

My mom's visit came first, not long after DD and I got over our sicknesses (see previous post). It was such a joy to have her here. She helped in so many ways. I cannot possibly describe them all, but I'll try so you can see how amazing she is. Not only did she clean up our messes, prepare our meals, play with DD, take us shopping, and give lots of hugs and kisses, she also spent quality time listening to my fears, worries, hopes, and goals. When my mom visits, I can let down. The weight of the world no longer hunches my shoulders. I can be calm and relaxed, not waiting for the other shoe to drop. I feel at peace and reassured. There is no feeling like it!

DD very happy to play with Grammy

The hard part comes when she has to go home. It takes several hours, sometimes several days, to readjust. I have a temporary panicky feeling that I can't do it. I can't do it by myself. It was so much easier with my mom here. But the Lord reminds me that He has not left me. Not only that, but this is the way it is supposed to be. I am an adult with a daughter of my own. My mom can't always be with me (though she is always there for me). She has raised me to be a strong, independent, capable woman. And I must make her proud. But how thankful I am for the relief her visits provide!

Not long after I readjusted and returned to my routine, my college bestie came to visit. The feelings were similar. It was a party every day! We laughed and cried, shared our hearts and our lives in ways you can't replicate over the telephone. She met DD for the first time, and they were fast friends. Her visit was therapy to my wearied soul.

Fast friends

3 happy girls

Yet again when she had to leave, there was a readjustment period. The house was quieter. Nights were lonely again. Reality didn't sink back in, it pummeled me. The end of each visit is another goodbye that serves to remind me of the goodbye I had to say to my husband. The pain comes rushing back until I acknowledge it and affirm that yes, this is a hard time, but it is not impossible. If it weren't so difficult, I wouldn't be able to fully enjoy the satisfying wholeness that these visits bring. So while when they end, I feel loss, I would not trade their restorative power for anything. Not only do they give me something to look forward to, they help me persevere. They are a glimpse of God's love for me, how He sustains me even in the midst.

Challenges

Within the first 2 months of DH's deployment, many of the things I worried about happened. First, DD got sick, and not just a cold but croup. She couldn't sleep, and as a result, neither could I. The few minutes of sleep she could get required me to hold her in her room. I never seem to be able to sleep that way. If I tried putting her down, she would cry, which would kickstart a coughing fit. Then I'd have to pick her back up, take her into a steamy bathroom to get the cough to stop, and rock her once she was calm enough to go back to sleep. By day 3, I was exhausted. We'd already been to the doctor who gave DD a steroid, but improvement was not quick to follow. The less sleep I got, the worse I began to feel. Soon enough, I, too, was sick.

Trying to have fun while sick

I remembered thinking before DH even left, what am I going to do when I get sick and still have to take care of DD, especially if she too is sick? Well, about 6 weeks into the deployment, I found out! So what did I do? Honestly, I lived moment to moment, cried, prayed, took Dayquil 24/7, and held my daughter as often as she needed. Thankfully, and this was God's grace to me in the midst of a hard time, I was not so sick that I couldn't take care of DD. It was a cold, and I could manage a cold.

Finally, after about 8 very long days, the croup cough left, and I rejoiced. A few more days stuck inside to make sure she was truly symptom free, and we could finally leave our house again. That was the hardest part for me – not being around people. I was so isolated, and it was very challenging to keep my spirits up.

About a week and a half went by when we were able to engage in our usual activities again – Gymboree, MOPS, PWOC, play dates, etc. But then DD got a runny nose and another cough. Ugh! It felt like were never going to be well! And wouldn't you know it, just as we were starting to feel better, the dog got sick. His eyes rolled back into his head, he was shaking, and very, very lethargic. So an hour before bedtime on a Saturday night, I loaded DD and the dog into the car and headed to an emergency vet. After all this, I couldn't handle my dog dying on me – not this soon into the deployment.

So glad to be back at Gymboree!

Thankfully, the vet was gracious and didn't take too long to examine Calvin and decide his eyes were probably just inflamed. They sent us home with some eye drops and told us to return the next day to re-check his eyes, if they were still rolled back. By the following morning, praise God! His eyes were normal, and he was back to his energetic, hungry self.

About a week later, I decided to take Calvin to the groomer because bathing him was just another thing on my to-do list that never got checked off. While he was at the groomer, I planned for DD and I to go shop for a new laptop because in the midst of all this, not only my laptop but my desktop computer decided to break. Since that is how I communicate with DH, that had to be remedied quickly!

Well, I'm sure you know where this is going...

When I started the car, it wouldn't crank, and I noticed a warning light on the dash. I just wanted to throw my hands into the air and say, “what next, God?” So after I did that, I ran through all the options in my head for how to get this fixed. DD and I went inside, and I called the car dealership to schedule an appointment, trying to simultaneously be thankful that at least DH's car was working.

Love my car, but love it more when it's working

I was anxious about taking my car to get serviced (yet another thing I had worried about before DH left) because DD's new car seat was not the easiest to uninstall/install from car to car. But thankfully, she is still small enough to fit in her infant seat which is easy to install/uninstall so I was able to use that when we dropped off my car and took a shuttle home. So the huge deal I had made in my head was really not that big at all.

From sicknesses to vets to computers to cars, I just had to smile (after I cried). God knew my fears, and He wanted to show me, very early on in this deployment, that they were unwarranted. He was and is going to see me through each and every time. As the song says, He'll never let go, through every high and every low.

So now DD is cutting 3 molars all at one time and is very cranky. The dog throws up at least once a day, and the service engine light in DH's car is now on. I sigh, try not to cry, and thank God that He's got this one too. But most of all, He's got us. He's taking care of us, regardless of the circumstance. He is good. All the time. And all the time. He is good.

What a Difference a Week Makes

One of the hardest parts for me when first starting a deployment is getting used to the new normal.  All of my routines seem tarnished by the absence of my sweet husband.  While in theory it should only affect my night time and weekend routines, deployment actually affects every part of my day.  This is because from the moment we say goodbye, the weight of the world is on my shoulders.  Or so it feels.

My husband once told me about an article he read regarding decision-making and how with each decision we make, we become more and more apathetic.  Each choice we make requires so much brain power and energy that we are simply too exhausted by the end of the day to feel passionately enough to make yet another call.  I feel that this aptly sums up the life of a spouse with a deployed soldier, especially one who is also a mom.

While it's true that you want to keep your husband as involved as possible, it's not always easy when you have to make a split-second decision.  And at the beginning of a deployment, there is a lot of adjusting to this new pressure.  You can't just call or text and find out what he thinks.  It's all up to you.

This was epitomized for me the day after DH left.  It was a Sunday, and I was already dreading going to church and sitting by myself. I remembered all too well what that felt like.  Well, DD decided not to take her morning nap that day, and I struggled with the decision of whether we should still go to church, knowing it would be hours (by the time we got home) since she'd slept.  Now, this may seem like a petty problem, but to me it was huge.  Not only that, but it was Sunday.  My husband should have been home to help me make the call.

Ready for church...nap or no nap

I ended up taking her to church, praying she would be ok in the nursery.  I nervously dropped her off, explained she hadn't napped, and told them to call me if she got too fussy.

Then I walked into the sanctuary and found a spot for solitary me.  Then wouldn't you know?  The first song we sang was "Your Grace is Enough."  I balled like a baby.  So much so that a woman came up to me to make sure I was ok.  I felt like such a fool.  Totally embarrassed!  I reassured her I was fine and tried to pull it together the rest of the service.  DD ended up making it through the whole time, and we went home.  I was exhausted, but we were ok.  I began to realize that the Lord was going to see me through this, even when I felt like I was making a "wrong" decision.

Over the next several days, I continued to strive for a new normal.  Since DH was still in transit, I had no idea when or if I'd hear from him so I began to have quite a close relationship with my cell phone, just in case.  He was faithful to cal or write and keep me updated.

Finally, he got to his destination and within a few days, we were able to Skype.  He was incredibly busy, and the time difference made it even harder.  But DH is so committed to us and does his best to connect with us in some way virtually every day, barring a power outage.

After about a week, we managed to find our rhythm.  By the next Sunday, going to church, I already felt as though we had established new routines and were settling into the new challenges we faced.  Although there were still a million decisions to be made, the pressure and weight of those choices seemed to dissipate.  God reminded me that even though I couldn't always ask my husband, I could always ask Him.

When Scripture Invades Your Life

         DH deployed on a Saturday.  I’ll admit there was a huge part of us that was relieved this day had come.  Once we started, we could start counting down.  The hardest part would be over.  So that morning, we tried to keep as normal a routine as possible while finishing up last minute things (like recording DH reading for DD).  When it was time to drive to the drop-off location, I sat in the back with my daughter, thankful for her sweet smile as I tried to keep it together.

            When we arrived, I was unexpectedly overwhelmed with memories of past deployments.  I saw those infamous white buses and so many thoughts flooded my brain.  DH dropped off his bags.  A photographer snapped a quick picture of us, and we headed inside.  It was hotter in the building than it was outside.  One would have thought this was a special enough occasion to turn on the A/C.  Since we had an hour to wait (don’t you love the Army’s schedule?), we walked around mostly outside, giving DD a chance to run around.  I was grateful for the chance to be a little removed from the heaviness inside.

Last family photo for a while

            I did not know anyone there and felt the weight of this impending deployment all at once.  I knew it was going to hit hard because although I had been processing it weeks prior, I was still doing remarkably better than previous deployments.  And I was smart enough to know this wasn’t because I had just gotten better at dealing with them.  It was simply that it hadn’t hit yet.  I looked around at the other families and marveled that they were not crying.  While my tears would come and go in spurts, there was no doubt I was upset.  I always want to hold it together, to say what is most heavy on my heart – how much I appreciate his sacrifice, how desperately I will miss him, how I pray for his safe return – but every time I try to speak, tears prick my eyes and my throat swallows up the words.  I just have to trust that DH knows me and will hear these words when I can better express them.

            When it is time to draw weapons, we decide DD and I should go.  After this point, we would not get to see DH except to get on the bus.  I had watched that heartbreak in past deployments, and we all knew we couldn’t handle it now that we had a daughter.  Regardless, it was beyond difficult to tear ourselves apart.  Practicing a newly learned skill, DD waved bye-bye but had a bewildered look in her eye.  Clearly she didn’t understand why we were saying goodbye to Daddy in this strange place.  DH and I hugged and kissed, expressed our love, and DD and I walked back to the car.

            As we left, I felt every raw emotion imaginable and wondered how I was ever going to be able to do this.  But the words that reverberated in my ears were, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.”  (Philippians 4:13).  To some, (and even to me, at times in my life), that verse has lost its meaning.  But that Saturday in July, it was not trite.  It gave me hope and strength.  I knew I only had to get through that day.  There was no need to look at the next 365 days.  I pulled DD closer and whispered in her ear that we were ok, we were going to do this with the Lord’s help, and that we were going to have fun this next year.  I buckled her into her car seat, and we drove home.

            Walking through the doors of our house, I was immediately overwhelmed with thankfulness.  I had my daughter with me and things I had to do to take care of her.  That kept me from breaking down.  Even when she napped and I had the time to dwell on my circumstance, I knew I could not get too upset else I’d get a headache and struggle to take care of her.  The Lord was so gracious to give her to me and remind me of my job to make this the best 2^nd year of her life.  To do that, I couldn’t put pressure on her.  I just had to relish the joy she brings.  Even when she points to DH’s picture and lifts her hands to ask where he is, though I want to cry, I instead scoop her up and tell her he’s on a trip but loves us very much.  This is enough for her, and we go about our day, missing him terribly but determined to enjoy what God has given us, even in the midst of pain.

Third Time's a Charm...Not When it Comes to Deployment

        Not long after life got back to “normal” with all of DD’s reflux and sleeping issues, we got the news that my DH would most definitely be deploying…for a year, 9 months, who knows.  The whole past year it was always on the table so it did not come as a surprise.  I was just so busy trying to be a mom that I could not even think about a deployment.  DH had done a few TDY trips while DD was a young infant, and we survived them.  But of course, deployment is a whole other story.  The closer to the departure date we got, the more of a mess I became.  Thankfully, my daughter kept my focus on her most of the day but nights were hard.  I started to think about the reality of my husband being gone.  Yes, we had done it twice before, but this time was going to be very different because now we are parents.  Not only that but because of moving here just a few weeks before DD was born and the crazy ride of her first year of life, I did not have much of a support system.  It’s very hard to start off a deployment feeling like that.  Here’s an excerpt from a journal entry I wrote a few days before he left to give you some insight into just what I was feeling.

            10(ish) days until DH deploys for the 3^rd time.  Trying to stay positive, make the most of the time, and set goals for the year apart.  I don’t want to wish away DD’s life so I’m determined she and I will make some good memories and not stop enjoying life.  I am hopeful this deployment will go faster and be slightly easier (in some ways) now that I have my sweet daughter to take care of.  There is no doubt she is a joy!  Any day now she’s going to start talking.  Likely first words are star, bird, dog.  But of course, the possibilities are endless!  Can’t wait to find out!

This time just before DH leaves is so tough.  
You want to keep some sort of a routine.
You want time to stop and speed ahead all at the same time. 
You stop yourself from saying, “This is the last _________________.” 
You take mental pictures and you try not to argue. 
You count down to the big countdown. 
You make all his favorite meals, and try to give him his “me” time when all you want to do is never leave his side. 
You begin planning care packages and menus for one. 
You try to make holiday plans before the tears overwhelm you. 
You try not to cry but also not live in denial. 
You try to keep things in perspective but fail repeatedly. 
You try to live one day at a time and think of the only way to eat an elephant…
But in the end, deployment is coming…ready or not.

Acid Reflux...1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back

         Many babies, if not all, have reflux to some extent.  However, when DD was around 5 weeks old, I noticed long bouts of crying after eating, arching her back, thrusting her tongue, and swallowing after burping.  She was not one to throw up everything she ate every time she ate.  She was more of a silent spitter, although there were times when she would seem to expel anything in her tiny stomach.

             Since I had a friend (my former battle buddy) with a daughter who was almost a year older than mine who experienced horrendous consequences as a result of GERD (gastro esophageal reflux disease), I was very concerned this was happening to us.  Although, it was confusing because my DD wasn’t throwing up everything every meal as my friend’s daughter had done.  But I typed her symptoms into YouTube and saw babies acting the same way as my sweet girl.  In the comments, reflux or GERD was diagnosed. So I booked an appointment with a pediatrician and explained DD’s symptoms.  The doctor agreed it sounded like reflux and prescribed Zantac.  She also advised me to add rice cereal to the bottles to thicken the milk.

            I noticed a slight improvement over the first few weeks, but my DD continued to act uncomfortable and had slow weight gain.  She would go hours without eating anything, and I didn’t know what to do. 

            I was still dealing with the effects of not being able to breastfeed, and now I couldn’t even get my daughter to eat.  Not only that but her sleep was drastically interrupted day and night by what I could only assume was the acid in her stomach.  I found, however, that if I put her in her car seat attached to the stroller, and rocked her, I could get her to sleep.  So this is how we got her to sleep for naps for the first 8 months of her life.  These naps would often only last 30 minutes, and then it seemed she was just too uncomfortable to sleep any more.

            I was exhausted and begged God to help us.  I stopped going to Bible study because it was too hard to get DD to sleep, and I could barely function on the little sleep I got.  I prayed over and over that God would mature DD’s sphincter muscle or whatever was causing her such pain, but it seemed no relief was in sight.  I tried going off dairy, convincing myself that something was bad in my milk, but we didn’t notice a difference.

            I went back to the pediatrician who graciously referred us to a pediatric gastroenterologist and a feeding clinic.  I called both immediately but neither could see us for 2 months.  It was a long wait!  I did not have much faith that a feeding clinic could help us but I figured the GI could do something.  In the meantime, they switched my daughter to Nexium where I again saw a small improvement.

            The feeding clinic appointment happened first, and I was pleasantly surprised by the suggestions and feedback I received.  It was a gift from God!   They encouraged me that I was a good mom and was taking excellent care of my daughter, even though I broke down in tears, feeling as though I failed at every turn.  The words of this pediatrician, orthopedic therapist, speech therapist, and nutritionist did bolster my confidence.  I began implementing their suggestions right away.  They said if within two weeks, I saw no improvement, to call back and they would begin seeing us weekly.

            Well, 2 weeks later, I thought there was some improvement.  There was.  Some.  I was beginning to find out, we were in a cycle. Things would improve just enough that I’d regain hope and think we’d found a solution only to be slapped in the face a month later with the realization that things were still not as they should be.  DD hated the bottle and it was a challenge just to get her to take 3 ounces!

            The next appointment was with the GI who suggested it could be an allergy.  He told me I could go on an elimination diet (since I was still pumping) or try a hypoallergenic formula.  All the emotions of my failure to breastfeed came rushing back.  I was adamant that I didn’t want to give DD formula.  If I couldn’t breastfeed, at least I could give her breast milk.  I had given up dairy months prior, and it was tough.  I wasn’t sure I could do a complete elimination diet.  Of course, I could do anything for my daughter, but would it really help?  It would take weeks to find out.  I began researching and begging God for wisdom and discernment.  Again, I needed to lay aside what I wanted and do what was best for my daughter.

            God began dealing with me and exposing yet again my performance-based attitudes and judgmental tendencies (ok, they were more than tendencies, but I was trying to give myself grace).  Not a day went by that I didn’t collapse in tears, overcome by failure.  The Lord was gracious to me in the midst of all this and put wise family and friends around me.  I eventually decided to try the hypoallergenic formula so I could sustain my energy level to take care of my sweet girl in the only way I knew how.

            Every time I gave her formula, I wanted to cry.  In my heart I just felt it wasn’t right, but if this was going to help her, I’d do anything.  Of course, she hated the taste so I had to puree banana to add to it.  It seemed to work, but the cycle continued.  For the first few days, improvement seemed evident.  But after about 2 weeks, we were back to square one.  So the GI told us to try another formula.  Again, slight improvement, and then back to all the previous symptoms.  We tried five different formulas, all with the same results.  It was definitely not an allergy.  Back to breast milk we went.

            Thankfully, as DD got older, we were able to introduce more and more solids.  She was hooked!  A much bigger fan of the spoon than the bottle, and I praised God!

Trying "solids" for the first time

            Through all the formula changes, we began going to the feeding clinic weekly.  We had an amazing therapist who, every week, provided encouragement and new suggestions.  She helped not just with feeding but with sleeping, separation anxiety, development, and socialization.  I have no doubt that the Lord strategically placed her in our lives.  We would not have been able to get through that time without her!

            Another blessing from the Lord during this time was my former battle buddy who was faithful to call and text with me whenever I had questions about this reflux journey we seemed to be on.  Although our girls differed in some of their symptoms, much of their behaviors were identical.  I remember texting this friend numerous times to ask how I could get my daughter to sleep better, what strategy to try when introducing solids but still trying to get her to drink milk, and whether we should try a hypoallergenic formula, request an endoscopy, etc.  She will probably never know how much she helped me during that time.  Her understanding and experience provided comfort when nothing else seemed to help.  The Lord is so faithful, in the midst of hard times, to provide us with glimpses of hope, and to ultimately bring us out of that difficult season.

            Finally, when DD was about 10 months old, eating table food and sleeping better, we began to relax.  The Lord was slowly bringing us out of this craziness, and life started to regain its groove.  There was no doubt this was the most challenging season I had ever endured (beyond Ranger School, beyond deployments).  I constantly felt like I was just barely keeping my head above water.  Yet through it all, the Lord never left me.  He was faithful even when I was not.  All the setbacks, all the pain and turmoil, would serve a purpose.  I’m still not sure what that purpose is, but I am confident that the Lord who redeems my soul will also redeem my failures and disappointments.

 

            Joy comes in the morning…

Tiny newborns have big opinions

         Once home with our newborn daughter, we were eager to show her all her new things.  Of course, for about the first 3 weeks of her life, she was content to sleep, not interested in much else, not even driven by hunger.  We continued trying to breastfeed, visiting a lactation consultant weekly for 6 weeks.  I was desperate to make this work.  Plenty of friends had told me it wasn’t easy and not for the faint of heart, but I was determined.  Unfortunately, as Dear Daughter (henceforth, DD) began losing weight, the lactation consultant recommended we try a bottle (despite my protestations) in order for her to get enough calories to be awake and alert enough to breastfeed.

Doing what she did best

            As soon as we gave her the bottle, she gulped the expressed milk.  We couldn’t believe it!  I continued offering her the breast and trying all the different strategies, but it became clear after a month or so that she only wanted the bottle.  I couldn’t believe such a tiny baby could be so opinionated.  She didn’t want to have to work for her food, nor did she want to be swaddled or held cradled in your arms.  She wanted to be upright and free to use her arms and legs.  She did not want a pacifier, and she hated the car.  All these things I could accept, but it was very hard to believe she didn’t want to breastfeed.  It felt like she didn’t want me.   Breastfeeding was supposed to be natural, how God created us.  Was there something wrong with me?  With all the lactation help I was receiving, they encouraged me that nothing was wrong anatomically.  Yes, DD had a high arch, but with all these different strategies we were trying, something should’ve worked.  The only explanation they could give me was that some babies just prefer the bottle.  They kept saying it wasn’t my fault.

            But I couldn’t hear that.  I kept thinking if I just tried a little harder, used a different method, or begged God, it would work.  I felt rejected by my own daughter and a flat-out failure.  I can’t even begin to describe the emotional wreck I became during those first few months.  I could not comprehend why giving up on breastfeeding was such a huge issue for me.  It was just this deep-seeded feeling that this is how I would take care of my daughter, but she wouldn’t let me.  It didn’t seem right.  It didn’t seem fair.  God had given me an overabundance of milk, to the point where I had to pump every 2 hours.  When I didn’t, I got mastitis.  So I continued pumping, knowing that at least I could still give my sweet girl breast milk, just not with the usual method of delivery.  So I pumped and I pumped for 10 straight months, freezing what she did not eat.  After about 8 weeks, I stopped offering the breast and just gave the expressed milk in a bottle, feeling like the very first test as a mom, I had failed.  Where I was going to go from here?

Cuddle bug

            My quiet times became more infrequent and less meaningful.  I was exhausted emotionally and physically.  Yet God never left me.  He used those months, those gut-wrenching emotions, to show me I still had perfectionist tendencies buried deep inside.  I thought I had moved past a performance-based life, but my reactions to this breastfeeding setback clearly showed otherwise.  The Lord used my sweet, cuddly 8 week old to teach me things I hadn’t been able to learn in my 27 years.  In the first few months of her life, He taught me that it was no longer all about me and what I wanted.  It was about what was best for her, no matter how painful or confusing or exhausting it was for me.

            That’s what He does for us as our Parent.  He does what is best for us.  And yes, we have BIG opinions, especially about how He intervenes in our lives, but He sees the big picture.  He knows that in the grand scheme of things, whether I breastfed or bottle-fed didn’t matter.   What did matter is that I surrendered myself and my child to Him (my expectations, my fears, my rights), and allowed myself to be teachable.  God used this to turn my world upside down and show me how much He loves me, as my Parent.  That’s one life lesson I hope to never forget!