How I got a Bicornuate Uterus, and you can too!

Kidding. No you can't. And judging from what I've read so far you wouldn't want to have one. But as it turns out, I have one, so I'm going to talk about it a little bit.

A Bicornuate (or Heart-Shaped) Uterus is a medical abnormality present since my uterus developed before I was born. So in a sense, you could blame my mother's uterus. It was sufficiently punished when it was removed a few years ago.

.1-.5% percent of women are estimated to have a BU, though these numbers are hard to determine since many women have one without knowing.

As you can see, while a normal uterus has an upside down triangle shape and the entire organ can stretch for the baby, a BU is literally in the shape of a valentine heart, with the top dipping down and dividing the uterus into two halves, called "horns." The fertilized egg implants in one horn of the uterus and often the other side does not grow at all. My baby is in my right horn, which did explain why at first I only felt cramping/discomfort in my right side.

Since the baby only has half the room to grow, there are generally three risks involved. The more common risk is preterm labor with a weak cervix. I've read about many women who delivered too early for their babies to survive, however it doesn't happen often. It is quite common to deliver a viable premie and spend many weeks in the NICU though.

The second risk is growth restriction. My midwives were very chill about my condition, but did tell me to take extra care about my eating from now on. Up to this point I really don't know if I was always getting my extra 300 calories in, and they never said I had to. I don't feel good stuffing myself, and the past few weeks I was too sick to do that anyway. I've been bloated ever since I got pregnant, so I assumed I'd put on weight no matter what. Now they said that because my baby might have issues growing I need to make sure I eat a little more and make sure I pack in the nutrients. I ate really healthily until about ten weeks, when I started to get sick. After that anything but crackers, bread, and noodles just made me throw up, especially fruits and veggies. Midwives gave me zofran last week, and I'm finally able to eat normally and work good foods back into my diet.

The third risk, and the one I hate the most, is a C-section. Because the baby usually grows in one horn, there is not a lot of room to turn. That means that if the baby is breeched, it will most likely stay breeched. Meaning a mandatory C-section. My midwife said the only chances I have of delivering vaginally breeched are if the baby comes too quickly to do anything else, or if it became easier to do so during a later pregnancy. I so want my peaceful water birth and I can't stand to think about how my chances of a C-section have increased by a minimum of 20%. I don't want to spend my maternity leave potentially in a NICU AND having to recover from being cut open at the same time. I don't want to have to fight for my VBAC when the next child comes along.

My pregnancy was so typical until the moment they told me it never was. Previously one of my midwives had told me I was "boring" in a great way. Educated, married, planned pregnancy, steady finances, excellent health, no smoking or drinking... I did everything right and my pregnancy should go swimmingly. "Welcome to parenthood!" my other midwife teased me gently, "You think everything is perfect and then suddenly it surprises you."

"Then I turn out to have a freak uterus," I half-joked back.

"You don't have a freak uterus. Your uterus is heart-shaped because you're so nice," she said cheerily. "Many many women have completely normal births with this," she assured me later.

Truly I'm not so worried. I have more or less decided to stop researching it and stop reading message boards for women with a BU. It does horrible things to one's nerves. The women who tend to reach out online have experienced the worst of the condition, and it makes it look like a higher percentage of women lose babies than what actually do. While it's great that they've found a community and comfort, I just don't need to put that in my mind. I'll forgive myself a C-section, because I know that nothing (and no one) will make me have one unless I have no choice. My care will change slightly after 20 weeks. Every checkup will include an ultrasound to make sure the baby is growing. They'll do everything possible to get me full term. I can still have a normal, natural delivery if baby grows head down. There are many things that could go wrong, but just as many things could go right. I will choose to think about the "right" until I'm given a reason no to.

In which I find myself for shiz up the spout.

Here are the general specs of the pea pod or otherwise-cheesy-food-comparison growing inside me.

Planned? Yes. We tried for four months, and every time the test was negative I was thoroughly baffled as to how anyone could accidentally get pregnant when we were young, healthy, and ovulating like a boss. God just has a magnificent sense of irony I guess. Also, I've decided all of the 16 and Pregnant girls get pregnant on purpose no matter what they say. Maybe not though, because according to my mom everyone under 20 has a magically fertile uterus anyway, so don't have sex, kids. You will get pregnant. And die. Not that I know anything about sex; we obviously got pregnant by dancing. We're Baptist.

When are you due? February 25th. Child, please don't come on Valentine's Day. None of us will live it down. You could even take a little longer and be your generation's first March baby! Be a trailblazer!

Who is your doctor? Doctors, BLEH. Kidding, but seriously, we are using a midwife. I've known that would be my route since around high school I think. We are so blessed that Lynchburg has a thriving midwifery practice under the umbrella of an established medical group, so fully covered by insurance with no hassle. We hit the jackpot.

A midwife? Say what? Our midwives are certified nursing midwives (CNM's), which means that first they had degrees in nursing and then got their master's in midwifery. Another option is a certified practicing midwife (CPM), which is someone who trained in midwifery only. We were more comfortable with a CNM because they are allowed to deliver at home, a birthing center, or a hospital, they can prescribe medication, and they have a wider medical background/experience because they were nurses first. Whichever midwife is on call at the time will deliver our baby, so they make sure you have an appointment with all of them at least once. I kind of don't like that, but everyone at the clinic is so great that I got over it pretty quickly. They are seriously the best.

How will you deliver? I'm at higher risk for a C-section (more on that later), but my dream of dreams is to go natural. With interventions I wouldn't have enough control of my body or enough flexibility to give birth however (and wherever) I wanted. Medication can lead to unnecessary complications as well, but my choice is much more based on wanting to give birth in whatever position is the most comfortable in the moment (which you can't do if there are needles and tubes all over you). A CNM is capable of handling a variety of last-minute emergencies (yes, including a hemorrhage), so I am not worried about the absence of a doctor. Most women have perfectly wonderful birth experiences in hospitals and with all of the most common interventions, but I would not.

I haven't decided "how" exactly I'll have the baby (i.e. in the water, on the bed, etc.), and I think I'm going to leave that up to what is best for my body in the moment. I will say that I think water births look so peaceful and that is my preference, but I don't want to get attached to an idea that might not pan out due to my medical situation.

Where will you deliver? I will deliver at the birth center attached to Virginia Baptist Hospital. I would like to have the baby at home, but my husband is wary of that, at least for this first baby. Many natural-birth advocates tend to have an all-about-mom-and-baby approach that makes dads seem a little irrelevant, and I don't agree with that. From my perspective, this birth is also my husband's. He did half the work in creating our baby, and he has a mostly-equal vote in how it's born. He is still open to being convinced, but until he has a peace of mind about birthing at home (if he ever does), I am fine meeting him halfway with a birth center for all of our babies. And after we compromised we found out that my midwives do not deliver at home anyway. I love the care I've received at our clinic so I'm good with the birth center. I just wanted to point out that we compromised BEFORE that happened, ha.

Will you find out the gender? Yes, we gotsta know.

What will you do when the baby is born? The plan is to go as natural as possible when our baby gets here. We're going to co-sleep for the first few months, using a specially designed bassinet that attaches to our bed. We'll cloth diaper, and hopefully I'll be able to breastfeed (due to a previous surgery I might not be able to). I was mostly formula-fed and I turned out fine, so I'll be zen if my crunchier leanings don't work out. But for goodness's sake, no light-up, loud, battery operated toys. Yick.

I plan on going back to work as long as we can line up childcare (it's surprisingly hard to find infant care in our town). My mom was a stay-at-home mom and I always assumed I would be too, but now that I'm pregnant I feel pretty positive that I'll keep my job. I love teaching, and I love the financial freedom we have with two incomes. My husband and I both have a little more independence when it comes to buying things for just ourselves (generally clothes for me and weird computer stuff for him, ha), and we are (hopefully!) set up to purchase a home some time next year. I want our kids to have community roots and the security of a space that is entirely theirs, and it's empowering for me to participate in providing that. I also hate doing housework, and since we both have jobs we split the chores so that's nice, ha! Eventually I want to finish my master's and then proctor online classes, which would free me up to be home. We'll see if I have the energy to do school with a four-month-old this summer though!

How is husband doing? He is very much himself: calm. He's trooped through my early pregnancy mania, watched The Business of Being Born at least three times before refusing to watch it again, comforts me when I cry during Disney movies, gets me food, and always rubs my back and holds my hair when I throw up. We both kind of want a boy, my family is pulling for a girl, but we're all pretty excited for whatever shows up in seven weeks!

Things unexpected or otherwise learned from a day of matrimony.

In no particular order...

1. I learned that anyone who says they were not nervous before their wedding is a LIAR. Or at least, someone I am so envious of that I would like him or her to experience even an ounce of the anxiety I went through the morning-of. No, I was not having second thoughts. Yes, I was freakishly and abnormally nervous anyway. The needed medication and hands-laying-on-Spirit-calling kind of nervous. And on that note...
2. I learned that I will never be able to thank the people who helped me enough. It will be a guilt I'll carry for many years I'm sure, unless at some point I can afford to buy them all an outlandish vacation. There's just no way to describe how awesome the kind of people are who see you lying on the floor hyperventilating (yes, truth) and immediately rush for the Xanax and anointing oil. Or the kind of people who let you be sick the morning of your wedding and understand when you disappear for four hours (yes, also true) AND seamlessly get things done while you're away. I can't wrap my head around how I got so lucky to have the bridesmaids I had, or the army of helping hands and kind words that surrounded me as soon as I even attempted to lift a finger. Additionally...
3. I learned that I have good taste in friends ;). Seriously though. I tried to touch on it in my "speech" (ramble, all of it), but I'll do much better here working up the bridal party line. Corinne my junior bridesmaid was ready with a cheerful smile and quick compliment. Taylor had the coolest head under pressure, and was a calming influence and steady voice. Jennifer was the first bridesmaid to arrive and the last to leave; so ready to help with anything and everything. Tiffani gives nice hugs and calls me her sister. Janet is loyal beyond belief, and traveled the farthest to be with me when I needed her, and boy did I. Mary touched every single person with her singing; people came up to me telling me how they cried and were so moved by the soul she put into her song. And Ciera, my dear maid of honor, has the biggest heart of anyone I know. As I said on Saturday, she has immense talent and dreams to match them. It's rare to find a person so talented with such dreams that also has a giving spirit to put others before herself, but she does every day. Her speech made me cry, and Jonny's speech made me cry, and the music made me cry, and basically...
4. I learned that I am a huge crybaby. I knew I'd either be super stoic or a major sap, and as it turns out I was the latter. I cried a lot. Everyone cried a lot. People really really cried at my wedding. Maybe not Glenn Beck level tears, but it was very respectable. And on that note...
5. I learned that it's okay to cry. I hadn't cried in weeks, and work pressure morphed into wedding pressure to the point that it was 3am on my wedding day and I was wide awake convinced that I had a brain tumor and would die before I was married. You know what made me feel better (at least in part)? Going home (I had stayed the night at the inn where we got married-- mistake) and having a good cry. Tim was very understanding and not at all freaked out by my erratic weeping the morning of our wedding. Which also reminds me...
6. I learned that Tim is the best husband a girl could ask for. He proved this just hours before he became my actual husband. As I said before, I did in fact disappear for four hours the morning of our wedding. An hour or so into that I decided to let Tim know where I was so he didn't think I'd left him at the altar. Rather than get irritated or offended at my behavior on such an important day, he immediately asked me what I needed and, when I said what I needed most was to see him, he didn't think about traditions or anything he'd planned on doing that morning. And let me tell you, true love is your fiance lying in bed with you the morning of your wedding, letting you cry, not taking your polarizing fear of getting married personally, getting you Tums and Pepto-Bismal, and watching Star Trek with you until you're ready to go to the salon (where your bridesmaids are waiting for you-- very patiently). And THEN, when you return to the inn several hours later and are once again on the floor paralyzed with fear, he has someone tell you to walk to your second-story window where he's looking up at you, waving reassuringly. I married the perfect man. No, not really perfect (I know), but perfect for me.

Okay here's some more pithy stuff I learned...

1. You won't talk to everyone. I won't tell you not to feel guilty, because you will anyway.
2. You will also feel guilty when people you love stay behind to clean up when you leave for your honeymoon. Just remember, you would (and have) done the same for them. That being said, you will still feel guilty.
3. Nothing really goes "wrong," but things don't go according to plan either.
4. If you're nervous, get through the ceremony. Your reception will be really fun.
5. Cool people have thunderstorms during their outdoor reception.
6. People will only tell you nice things about your wedding, which is nice.
7. Remember that awesome reception food and cake you tasted and hand-selected to reward yourself for all of your dieting and planning? You don't get to eat it. But it's okay because you're more thirsty than hungry.
8. Ask for whatever you want and someone within earshot will get it for you (if you're the bride that is).
9. Fight for the things that mean a lot to you.
10. After literally everyone saying this to me pre-wedding, I have finally come to the conclusion that if you are married at the end of the day, then your wedding was successful. Full disclosure, I did not come to this conclusion until the end of my wedding when Tim and I had mutually decided that we had the best wedding ever, so this is probably not the purest of lessons learned. But I'll be one of those know-it-all's saying it from now on. :)

Okay I'm going back to my honeymoon now!

Being a guy-friend-aholic, and where to go from there. (Part 2)

Well, since the original installment was my most popular post, I thought I would offer the single/dating gals a few more unfortunate pearls of wisdom. Now perhaps some of you are thinking, "this is a 'wedding' blog, why are you harping about this?" Because in all loving, brutal honesty I don't think anyone is ready to get married until they STOP this destructive behavior and draw these boundaries. So once again ladies -I'm sorry- but here are the signs that you should either date the guy or distance yourself from the friendship. I will allow that having just one of these signs in your friendship might not be a glaring red flag, but start to keep an eye out for others to pop up.

And here's a little more full disclosure (or TMI?) so you know that I'm not being a self-righteous know-it-all: I have done ALL of these things. Every last one. More than once. With more than one guy. So know what I say comes from love, not judgement.

10 signs that you are playing a guy (knowingly or otherwise).

1) You hug "hello" and "goodbye."

 If you do just one or the other it's not necessarily as weird. But if you do both there is DEFINITELY no room for the Holy Spirit in this friendship.

2) You've had a conversation past midnight.

 Fact: Men like sleep. Other fact: He's sacrificing sleep for YOU. Other other fact: It's not because he really wants to hear about what your frenemy posted on Facebook.

3) You expect that he will pay, or at least try to pay, for you.

  If you expect it that means he's paid for you X number of times, which means YOU ARE GOING OUT. ALONE. A LOT. And it also means you're at risk of becoming a gold digger... incidentally even they have to commit at a certain point.

4) You hang out when it is inconvenient for one or both of you.

 Like during the summer, or when one or both of you has to skip a class. In relationship-ese that translates to "we can't bear to be apart."

5) You do something on Valentine's Day.

 Valentine's Day is for couples and kids in elementary school... so which one are you?

6) You've told him "I miss you."

 Look at your hand. Now smack yourself with it. Because explaining why this is a jerk, manipulative move would take longer.

7) He talks to you over the summer.

 Generally (if you are both in college) this means he is calling you. It is a scientific fact that guys HATE to talk on the phone. He is defying SCIENCE for you.

8) You do guy things with him and he does girl things with you.

 You know that guy who willingly went to see Titanic in 3D with you? The one who bought the tickets and let you use his shoulder as a hanky? I had a guy do that too... MY FIANCÉ. That means we're together... like together together. And even he said "no" to Titanic the first five times I asked, so take the hint already.

9) You've brought him to your "real" house.  Meaning your parents' house. Meaning he spent the night.

 Um... YOU'VE BROUGHT HIM TO YOUR PARENTS' HOUSE. HE'S MET YOUR PARENTS. HE'S SPENT THE NIGHT. I think just yelling it suffices here, so yell that to yourself a few times.

And 10) You've gone on a road trip together. Just the two of you.

 This is last because it means he has done several of the above things at once: he has talked with you about this trip for an hour or more-- probably late and probably on the phone (#2, #4, #7), you will likely be driving late at night (#2), he has made plans that cost money and he is willing to get gas (#3), he has added a significant event into his schedule and possibly taken time off work (#4), he's taking that time because he misses you or you've said you missed him (#6), it's most likely during the summer (#4, #7), AND he probably picked you up at your "real" house and may have even spent the night (#9).

Whew. You know just looking at those makes me feel like an epic jerkette. I am certainly one of the guilty. Here is the bright side: you could choose to give this guy a chance and it could be amazing. But if you absolutely don't think that's a possibility then detox, and detox now. Eventually there will be a guy you can do each and every one of these things with, and you won't just be friends. It'll be much, much better.

Being a guy-friend-aholic, and where to go from there.

Well first of all, I'm sorry I've epic failed at blogging these past couple months. Really nothing particularly wedding-related happened until about two weeks ago, during which we booked the last competent DJ in town (according to him), selected a baker (which mostly involved me eating lots of raw fondant), placed an order with a caterer (white cheddar baked mac 'n' cheese... oh yeah you better be there), received bridesmaid dresses that were the wrong color, and in general fended off my Bridezilla meltdowns like a couple'a pros. Let's just say when you watch the actual show "Bridezillas" and think to yourself "You know... she totally has a point this time," there is a big, big problem. Fortunately while the urge has been there, the dragon still sleeps. Only two and a half more months to go...

When Harry Met Sally, Property of MGM

 Now that we're up to speed, here is my current philosophical musing. It is brought on through a mixture of marriage prep exercises/discussions, television shows/movies, and yes, even plain old awkward experience. Ladies, get ready to have some sense knocked into you from someone who required an embarrassing number of knocks.

Here is the unfortunate truth I bestow on you today:

No. Guy. Wants. To. Be. Just. Friends.

Ever.

I'm sorry.

Now so as not to totally devastate you, I'll go ahead and give you the exceptions and the exceptions to the exceptions.

Exception 1) He is gay (obviously).

Exception 2) He is a relative (though keep in mind the solidity of this rule varies regionally... ew).

Exception 3) He is the best friend of an ex.

Exception to the exception: Keep in mind that I'm talking about the ABSOLUTE best friend of your ex. Like, they were each others' best men best. Any less and you are still considered fair game, awkward potential be darned. (*Edit: I have been informed by a male reader that this is in fact totally untrue, and I was just lucky that my ex's best man was a nice dude. So... watch out for all of your ex's friends. Feel free to debate. ;)*)

Exception 4) He is a "through" friend. 

Meaning a friend you know "through" your committed boyfriend/a girl friend/spouse/etc. as these friends have not intentionally sought you out for companionship based on your own merits. They have to associate with you by default and you never spend one-on-one time with them.

Exception 5) He is a stringer.

As in, he will string you along to fulfill his own needs without offering commitment OR EVEN genuine friendship, in which case you should not be friends with this person in the first place.

Let's have a DTR.

So let's really REALLY define what I'm talking about. A guy that sought you out, or does not mind that you sought him out, that you spend significant time with (notice that I did not say a significant AMOUNT of time, rather ANY amount of time that WAS significant... quality over quantity), who will have discussions and do activities with you that he would otherwise do with another guy, does not want to be "just" friends.

On the other side of that coin, girls are more than happy to invest the same time and emotion into a guy friend as exactly that: a "guy" friend. The guy is usually completely interchangeable with a girl.

Only that isn't fair to guys.

Hear me, ladies?

That is. Not fair. To guys.

You dirty Jezebel!

Let me own up to a huge chunk of the blame. Until I was in a serious relationship, I was a total guy's girl. To this day I can't stand an all female workplace. If I'd had to get married in the middle of college I would have been the one with the groomsmen. I would average maybe one serious girl friend at a time, while the rest of my time went to a handful of wonderful, loyal, funny, smart, uncomplicated guy friends.

Only it was incredibly complicated and I didn't know it. Though if I'm being honest -if ALL ladies were being honest- I'd have to admit that somewhere in my not-so-subconscious subconscious, I knew. I knew what smile to smile, what laugh to laugh, when to make the inappropriately unfeminine Family Guy reference, and when to rock the sundress, paint my nails, and wear his favorite perfume. Oh yeah... I knew all of that.

Oh gosh, I even brought them home with me. More than one and more than once. I went on lengthy roadtrips with them, usually spent headbanging to Queen and all 90's music. I'm horrible, right? Really, who brings a guy friend home and expects him to not get a very specific idea about where the friendship is headed? Dumb dumb dumb me...

Now I know I've just incriminated myself probably beyond repair, but really my motives were never impure... I was simply uncouth enough to want the impossible. Any close guy friend I've had could tell you that I've beat many a dead horse trying to keep these impossible friendships going. But I was wrong: the eternally platonic guy/girl relationship DOES NOT EXIST. Because that kind of guy friend DOES NOT WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND. He wants more. You cannot convince him to want less, nor should you. We are created to be monogamous, and there is nothing wrong with that... except that you can't be best friends with a bunch of guys. And people have TOLD us this, but why don't we listen? Well, because I truly believe a girl can become addicted to guy-friendship.

It is with extreme difficulty that I admitted all of the above ramble to myself, and began a guy friend detox when I started dating Tim (who incidentally was a guy friend who did not just want to be friends... see?). There is really no way to describe just how much that sucked. Mostly because guys are just way more fun to be around than girls (sorry). They're a consistently calming and nondramatic influence, and it's something that for a long time I couldn't live without from just one guy. I was addicted to the fun, the absolute lack of pretense, and yes, even the attention. (Total and complete honesty right now-- hope you can tell.)

My addiction was overcome in several ways, and here are a few of them:

Way 1) Have an awesome Maid of Honor.

When we first met a couple years ago, my Maid of Honor very quickly brought back to life a lot of girly interests I'd left by the wayside, like musicals, fashion, cooking, Disney movies, the Kardashians (kidding... or am I?), and finding the humor in the drama. We loooove to laugh about the drama. There is hefty value in girl talk if you have a friend who is good at it, and she's definitely one of the best.

Way 2) Admit you've been building a wall, and tear it down.

Because you've totally been building a wall between yourself and meaningful, lasting relationships the entire time. Really. I didn't realize this until my MoH and I became close. I thought I told my guy friends everything, but once I started talking to girls again I realized I was opening up an entirely new (or forgotten) side, a side of vulnerability and big, impossible dreams that girls only share with other girls. Guys simply do not know what to do with it. So while I thought the guys knew me, I kept this integral part of me a secret, which cannot work in a lasting friendship.

Way 3) Spend more time alone.

Let's continue a pattern of honesty and admit to ourselves that excessive male companionship is usually linked to unacknowledged loneliness. Again I will speak from my own experience. Perhaps due to reasons beyond your control, things have happened that caused you not to trust other girls. On top of that, perhaps a bad relationship convinced you that putting your time and trust into one man will only lead to unhappiness, so instead you seek surrogate companionship with several.

Get to know yourself again. Rediscover hobbies and secret hideaways. Volunteer. Consider moving somewhere else, if your situation permits it. A change of scenery will drastically alter the way you view yourself and others.

Way 4) Workaholism.

Self explanatory. Throw yourself into finding your career. Of course I've seen enough romantic comedies to know this can turn into a negative, so don't get carried away. Just keep yourself busy.

And if none of those work...

Way 5) Pick the one guy friend that you a b s o l u t e l y cannot live without... and marry him!

That's what I did. :) Okay there was a lot more to it than that, but there was a moment a couple of years ago when I had decided that I had to let him go because I wasn't ready to commit to anybody. Then just the thought of never speaking to him again freaked me out so much that I realized I was supposed to give him a chance. He was worth cutting back on the males in my life.

I hope this has helped you in some way. I apologize if I've said something you don't want to hear, but you need to hear it. Believe me if I had no shame whatsoever I would list the details of every best guy-friendship I've had (of which there have been... 7... and that's just off the top of my head) and you would see that my experience has revealed the truth. Think about your best buddy, and what you're doing to his feelings. Open the door or shut it. You'll be doing yourself a favor too.

New Year Ponderings

I've entered the New Year thoughtfully. You might say we did the usual thing: New Year's Rockin' Eve, my love to kiss at midnight (well 11:00 where we were), a family gathering, etc. All the same, I was in a quieter mood. Maybe 2012 bodes so much change that while I look forward to it happily, I also look forward to it seriously.

I'm ready to be a wife in the sense that I'm ready to get married. I don't consider myself ready in the sense that I'm prepared for all the facets of the task. I doubt that anyone feels entirely prepared, much in the way that no one is ever prepared for children (I'm told), but there are particular steps I would like to take in the next 5 months (5 months, 5 days, 4 hours, 19 minutes, and 17 seconds as of this sentence) to feel more prepared, even if that is a moot point. I don't want to call them "resolutions" necessarily, but since it's that time of year you might say that's the appropriate word. Coincidentally enough, some of them are also nifty tips for surviving the zombie apocalypse.

1) I resolve to be healthy.

I'm generally a healthy person, but not in the past couple of months. Life in general kicked my booty and left no time nor energy for cooking good food and working out. That's neither here nor there; now that I'm getting married I'm thinking of health as more than how I chose to eat today. When I am a wife and mother, I'll be responsible for not only my health, but the health of my husband and children. While children are a year or two away, my husband will be here sooner rather than later, and I'm committed to using these next few months to create a healthy routine for myself, so I can create that atmosphere for Tim. Unfortunately for him, this means not nearly as much pizza as he is accustomed to consuming. ;)

2) I resolve to always appreciate Tim as my best friend, my "buddy" (one of his favorite things to say to me), and eternal partner in crime or otherwise unruly shenanigans.

I hope married-people-things will never cause me to forget that we spent almost two years pre-matrimony concocting this truly fabulous friendship.

3) I resolve to finish "Lady in Waiting."
Because I've never finished working through it, and I won't be "in waiting" for much longer, ha.

4) On a related note, I resolve to question the Bible. At this moment I will ask my mother to take a deep, cleansing yoga breath, for I do not plan on questioning the actual validity of the Bible, or delving much into the inerrant v. inspired debate. By all means whoever wants to question whether Adam and Eve were literal people or a metaphor for the human condition should, but that's not me. But I desire a deeper understanding of the context and working nature of an unarguably powerful and controversial Book. Have you ever heard a sermon that even attempts to explain the Sons of God or the Nephilim? Yeah, me neither. I want to learn about that stuff. I also commit to learning doubly as I read through it by myself and with Tim.

5) I resolve to actually try/do/make/use the things I have pinned on Pinterest.

6) I resolve to appreciate the little things.

Maybe that will be a sunny day, or a mild winter. Maybe it will be a deep fried Oreo, or my favorite kind of salad. The day I really love everything about who I am. All of those moments will be great, however, here's the moment I had the night of the New Year:

Tim dancing to LMFAO with my little cousin.

Then giving him countless forms of pony rides: sitting, standing, bouncing, jumping, and only saying "no more" when he was finally too exhausted to move.

The few loud, chaotic, laughing minutes where I saw the kind of father he'll be. It'll be hard to top that one, but my hopes are high for 2012.

As of the end of this post, we're at 5 months, 5 days, 7 minutes, and 15 seconds. There's another one. :)

“He has not stopped showing his kindness to the living and the dead.”

Those were the words that Naomi said to Ruth when she learned of Boaz's special treatment of Ruth. For those of you who are not quite the Bible nerd, here is the story of Ruth and Boaz in a nutshell:

Ruth is Bella and Boaz is Edward.... the end.

I'm kidding, gosh, totally kidding.

Ruth's first husband was an Israelite but they lived in Ruth's country, Moab, and after he dies she insists on returning to Israel with her mother-in-law, Naomi. Ruth is a widow and a foreigner in Israel, and marrying a foreigner was generally a no-no for the Israelites. Since neither can marry, when they reach Israel they're essentially paupers, and in order to have food to eat Ruth follows behind the men gathering grain and picks up the pieces they drop, a humiliating task since those who resorted to it were the poorest of the poor. When the owner of the field notices her and learns of her loyalty to Naomi, he tells his workers to intentionally drop large handfuls of grain for her to pick up. When Ruth goes home and tells her mother-in-law what happened, Naomi informs her that Boaz is a distant relative, and a man known for his incredible kindness to everyone. Even better, he can claim Ruth as his wife according to the custom of the time. Faster than you can say "prince charming" Boaz and Ruth get married and waltz into the line of Christ.

If you know a Christian girl, or more specifically a Christian girl who reads Christian relationship books, you might have heard her say she's waiting for her "Boaz." Boaz is essentially the heartthrob of the Bible, interchangeable with the nonbiblical "waiting for my Mr. Darcy/Edward Cullen/Jacob Black/Gilbert Blythe/Mr. Big/etc." (Though I see no appeal in Edward or Big, but don't ask me to understand all women.) Anyway, Boaz is the archetype of the perfect man, the Disney prince who slays the dragon or kills the evil witch to save the helpless woman. It's true that Boaz "saved" Ruth in a way, and also that the story is a representation and foreshadowing of Christ's redemption of mankind. However I admire Boaz more for the beginning of the story than the end.

Yes Boaz married Ruth in the end, but let's remember that she was part of her husband's accumulated property and by accepting responsibility of her husband's affairs he sort of inherited her... it's still cool and everything because he did all of that just so he could marry her, but that's not quite my favorite part. Before he learned of their deeper connection he noticed her as someone in need of compassion and kindness. He did not hesitate to show her kindness in her moment of need, and it's safe to assume from Naomi's statement (the title of this post) that he already had a reputation as a compassionate man toward everyone. Meaning that before Boaz was even deeply attracted to Ruth, he showed her kindness as a human being despite her poverty and despite her status as an outsider.

Which brings me to Tim and my overwhelming luckiness as the future Mrs. Tim. I never said I was waiting for Boaz -as you already know I was much quicker to say I was waiting for my own Jim Halpert- but I was always taken by Boaz's example of kindness, kindness to a virtual stranger, an outsider. Tim is definitely the kindest man I know, and I should know because I am constantly on the receiving end regardless of whether or not I deserve it. But I was positively swept off my feet all over again just yesterday.

We hadn't been on a "date" in months. Yes, months. We are both so busy and so overwhelmed with stuff that it just hadn't happened. We eat out and spend most of our time together, but we're usually so busy or so exhausted that we just end up doing not much of anything. It was really starting to bug the both of us, and we knew it was time to not be so "married." Well a few days ago it occurred to me that it's December and Lynchburg is certainly big enough to have a Christmas parade. We did a little research and wouldn't you know it was that very weekend! It had been so long since we just went out and did something recreational that we were probably overly excited about an hour-long parade, but whatever. :)

We had an amazing time! I was showing Tim all the cool things about downtown, and I even discovered some new things, one of which was a little cupcake bakery that happened to be the only shop not closed early for the parade. He bought me a snowflake cookie and some hot cocoa, and we sat at a picnic table to eat our sweets. After a few minutes a guy appeared and asked us if he could sit on the bench next to us. I cheerily said "Go for it!" without really looking at him, but once I did... whoa.

Here's the thing. I'm not trying to build myself up or anything, but I typically have a bleeding heart for needy people/children/animals. When I see those ASPCA commercials on TV I have to change the channel or I'll cry and cry and cry. Ditto to any child sponsorship or children's hospital commercial. However when confronted with a needy person on the street it's a little different. I want to be nice, but my programmed response is of course to get very uncomfortable and subtly move my purse closer. I try not to be too hard on myself about it because I think most women know what I'm talking about. After all, as girls what are we told? Don't talk to them. Don't give them anything. It's not safe. You don't know what they might do. Even when we're women we're told, Don't go out alone after dark. Don't be alone with a strange man. Don't travel by yourself. What if you break down? You can't trust anyone. These remarks are usually followed by a reminder about the most recent missing girl on the news, and if only she had made safer choices that night. I'm not saying that's all bad advice, but I am saying what guy older than 18 is told not to go to Walmart after dark or make small talk with a stranger? Few I imagine.

As your typical young woman I have been programmed to be naturally cautious around shifty looking people, and boy was this guy shifty looking. I could tell that he was a drifter for all of the obvious reasons: the old dirty clothes, the duffel bag, beaten up skateboard, questionable hygiene. And to his credit he didn't ask us for anything; he just seemed to want some human interaction for a few minutes. Even so, my mind automatically began to search for a way to leave as quickly as possible. Tim on the other hand calmly ate his cookie, sipped his hot chocolate, didn't show any obvious signs that he wanted to leave, and he had genuinely friendly conversation with this man. As he attempted to make conversation with us (he hates television, reads the paper, and is interested in the Occupy movement), it became evident that he was either on something or pretty fried from having been on something in the past. Tim patiently listened, tried very hard not to ask the guy to repeat himself too much, and conversed. So simple it would seem. The man had been to Columbus; Tim is from near Columbus. The man really liked it there. Tim does too. The man doesn't trust the news, we don't watch the news either. I was frozen, partly nervous, partly stunned, and quite overwhelmed. When Tim was done eating the guy offered to throw the trash away, and Tim said thanks. So commonplace. Yet most people wouldn't have such an everyday conversation, exchange such everyday pleasantries, with this guy. And when we got up to leave, Tim said "It was nice meeting you." How often does that man hear that?

As we walked away I was filled with intense love for my future husband, deep gratitude that he wants to marry me, and sore regret that I hadn't been more conversational with that man. First I'd been such a girl, then I'd been so enthralled by what was happening that I hadn't really participated. "That was a good thing you did," I said to Tim, "Most people wouldn't do that." Then he said, "Well... everyone matters. He was created with a purpose." The best part is he looked at me as if that were the most obvious answer in the world.

How simple. How uncommon. How lucky I am. And what a wonderful date that was.

Thank you, Jesus, for my very real Boaz. I am daily reminded of his kind spirit, toward myself and others. He is my lifetime reminder to be an open and compassionate person. Your blessings are abundant when I truly do not deserve them.