Introversion and focusing on what really matters

Sometimes being introverted really stinks.

It's true! Ask any introvert you know and I bet they'll agree with me. It can be a real challenge when it seems like most relationships are expected to be built and flourish in group settings. Unless others are willing to dedicate the time to intentionally invest in a relationship with an introvert then the introvert is left feeling like little more than an acquaintance even among "close" groups of friends. Especially in the day and age of social media. Alot of one-on-one interactions are replaced by Facebook messages, texting, and blogging. People just don't get together and chat about real life over a cup of coffee very often these days. People rarely talk about things that really MATTER; things that help you see each other's heart and soul. The things that make an introvert feel known and loved and allow them to know and love others are the things that are falling by the wayside of our increasingly media-centric culture.

I've been struggling this week,... well most of the year really,... with feeling pretty lonely. I've been introverted all my life; and have learned alot about how to cope and interact well in groups of people. Sometimes people are surprised when I tell them that naturally I'm severely introverted. But it's true. I rarely, if ever, feel that I can build a close friendship if its only forum is groups. I'm absolutely exhausted by being around lots of people for extended periods of time,... especially if I don't know them well. Add that to the fact that having grown up surrounded by brothers, I've always been more comfortable in the company of dudes than girls, and it has always made building deep female friendships a huge hurdle. And honestly, among many of the blessings of moving back home, it has also presented more of a struggle to rebuild friendships than I expected. I'm to the point of being exhausted from trying so hard and feeling like I'm not getting anywhere. This week I have felt ready to just give up; especially since I know we are only going to be here another year.

Then something dad said during his sermon this morning reminded me that my sustenance doesn't come from relationships with other lost, broken, searching, people. That's what we all are. We may be searching for different things, but our search can end as soon as we regain focus on the one who can meet all needs. I'm searching for meaningful friendships, and yet I often neglect the most meaningful and rich relationship I've been gifted with. Sure, relationships with those around us are still important, but I sometimes get so wrapped up in seeking a feeling of connectedness with others, or wallowing in self-pity because of the lack thereof, that I forget to invest time in the one relationship that can provide infinite connectedness and fulfillment.

So I'm challenging myself the next few weeks and months to not try so hard. I'm giving myself a free pass in the friendship department, as long as I stay focused on the Savior department. If deep relationships are truly something that I need right now, then I trust that as I draw closer to Christ, He will provide the rest. 

Little stinker thrashed around in his crib for the entire hour that is his normal nap time,... then as soon as I got him out and layed him on his play mat, he was out cold. Haha,... 

Sometimes it's scary how stubborn he can be already. We're gonna be challenged for many years to come by this kiddo! But,... everytime I would go in to give him back his pacifier or to check on him during "nap time" he would just look up at me from his crib and grin. 

And I just want to melt into a puddle of baby snuggles. Man, I love this kid!

We got through Mother's Day without any major breakdowns. It's still definitely a bittersweet day, but when I look back on how painful it was for me last year compared to this year I just have to praise God. He has done such an amazing work of healing in my heart, and has blessed me beyond measure with little Peter.

There's still a gap in our family.

The pain is not gone.

The missing him is not gone.

I would get irritated after we lost Jude when people told me to have another baby right away. They would say something like: "It's ok, you're still young; you can have more." As if they thought I could just have another baby, and then Jude would be voided. As if all of the love and pain that Jude brought with him had never happened. As if Jess and I could go back to being the people we were before, by just having another baby and "moving on."

And those people were so, so wrong. We were completely molded by that experience and loss. But it made our character deeper. It made our love stronger. Jude made us better.

Why would we EVER want to "get over" him?

God used his short little life to teach us so much. And though we did experience excruciating pain because of him, we would never want the clean slate that many people wished for us. 

Peter is not Jude's replacement.

Neither is he our consolation prize.

They are both our dearly beloved sons; and we are immensely grateful for each of them and the blessings and challenges that they have, and will continue to present in our lives.

These were just a few of the many thoughts I was mulling over this Mother's Day. I pray that your day was as blessed as mine. Whether you have children present to celebrate with or not, I hope your day was full of peace.

Growing up with(out) his big brother

Something that I've been thinking about alot lately:

How do we make sure that Peter knows about Jude, and maintain his presence in our family over the years? 

We have Jude's painting; and it will always have a prominent place in our house. Peter and all our future children will grow up knowing the story behind it. We have pictures on the wall of us with Jude. We have his ultrasound picture in the nursery. There are little reminders around the house. But I want our other children to feel connected to him as more that just some random baby that died before they were born?

How do we help them feel like they know Jude, when we didn't really get the chance to know him ourselves? How do we continue to include him in our family in tangible ways for our kids in years to come? There are a few traditions that we have started or are planning to start with Peter and any future children. We are going to get a new angel ornament for our Christmas tree every year and hang it on Jude's birthday. We plan on always including a blue helium balloon in family pictures to represent Jude. And someday when we will be in one place for more than a couple of years I would love to plant a tree and a memorial garden for him.

But how do we describe him and explain his place in our family to children? How do we include them in their brother's memorial traditions even when they are very small?

If you're a bereaved mama with other children I'd love to hear how your family includes the baby/child that's not present!

Every little thing

I don't want to forget anything about these days. These days full of snuggling, smiles, tired, and so much love.

All of Peter's little features and habits are changing and developing so quickly and I don't want to ever forget any of the tiny details that I love about this boy.

My desperation to cling to every precious moment that was established when we lost Jude has been reinforced as we've seen several friends, and friends of friends pass away unexpectedly the last few weeks. It makes my heart heavy to think of all the moments these families will never have with their loved ones. It makes me cling with renewed passion to every beautiful moment my lovely little family has together.

Every loving word from my husband.

Every gentle whisper in Jess' deep voice into Peter's tiny crinkled ear.

Every short, sleepy breath against my neck.

Every moment his rapidly increasing weight lies against my chest.

Every feeding with his warm cheek against my breast.

Every time he sleeps with his left eye peeking open.

Every adorable lop-sided smile.

Every time his cheek dimples.

Every stretch of little muscles when he sticks his booty out and clenches his fists on the air.

Every time Jess walks in the door and can't wait to get his hands on the little guy.

Every quiet sigh in the middle of the night.

There are a million things I could list that I love about my life right now!

But even the things that are less inherently wonderful I want to notice and remember. How rewarding it is hanging diapers on the clothes line and folding tiny clothes. The frustration of responding to his desperate cries when even he doesn't know what he needs. The soreness in my neck and shoulders from nursing him day and night. The seeming hours on end it takes to complete even simple household tasks.

They are all a part of this wonderful challenging life that not everyone is blessed with. 

And I am grateful.

                       First time in the bumbo!                

Playing with Grampa

                                                     helping dad study