Pebble and Stones

Come, Thou fount of every blessing

Tune my heart to sing Thy grace

-Hymn

I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.

-Jesus, John 15:5

There’s a lot about being a mom NO ONE TELLS YOU.

Like, how it now takes 3 hours to watch a 45 minute episode.

Or about the FLUID. Oh, the fluid. So much of life now is about the FLUID.

Or how you develop laser eyesight in the darkest of nights, searching for a fallen pacifier for your desperate infant. And your own desperate self.

Or how 3 in the morning feels much the same as 3 in the afternoon.

Or how you will cry more than your baby over trying to get her to eat.

Or how you don’t really mind all the poops and diaper changes.

Or how you can live off your baby’s smiles FOR DAYS.

Tonight I was dead tired. Like, so tired. I haven’t slept for a full night since the SPRING OF THIS YEAR. AND IT’S PRACTICALLY CHRISTMAS, PEOPLE. It’s just better not to think about it. And for the countless time, I had to go wash a sink full of bottle parts and pump parts because this is my life now and for the foreseeable future. WHEN ALL I WANT TO DO IS WATCH TV. That’s really ALLLLLLL I WANT TO DO. And eat snacks. My desires are oh so simple now. Oh, wait, that’s all I ever really wanted to do before…ahem.

But alas. My task was in front of me—the approximately 2432587235 bottle and pump parts to wash. I stood in front of the sink, waiting for the water to heat up. And I had to while the Daughter napped. THIS WAS MY WINDOW.

And a strange thing happened.

In spite of my aching exhaustion, in spite of just needing to zone out, in spite of feeling generally discouraged, I felt the urge to SING.

Oh yes, that’s another thing they don’t tell you.

As soon as they hand that baby to you, you become a freaking SINGER and SONGSTRESS. It’s innate. It’s inevitable. And thankfully, my daughter has a father who is NOT tune-deaf and can teach her to sing correctly. Her mother, on the other hand, loves singing but it’s a total happy accident if she sings in tune.

Anyway, I’ve been singing pretty solidly for 6 months now. In the beginning, it was old Keith Green songs and hymns, as those were all I could remember at 2 in the morning. Now I’ve STUDIED UP and can sing some more common lullabies and baby songs, and let me tell you, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and You are My Sunshine are BIG hits around here. Also, Good Morning from Singin’ in the Rain, because this is ME we’re talking about.

So there I am, the hot water spilling out of the tap, and suddenly, Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing starting spilling out too. And as I sang to myself about Jesus seeking me when I was a stranger, and rescuing me from danger, and how great a debtor I am to His grace, and asking Him to seal my heart for His courts above, my super annoying and very repetitive task wasn’t the worst. And my exhaustion, a very real thing, wasn’t too much. As I reminded myself about His gospel, His good news, I remembered that it’s good news for me now.

In this new season of life. For a tired new mama with fibromyalgia and a million things to do and think and worry about. The gospel of Jesus—the news that God loves me, a sinner, and invites me into His kingdom—is a refreshing wind, a long and peaceful and deep exhale. As I moved into O Holy Night, I was more at peace. Not because anything had really changed. I’m still going to have to wash these finicky plastic pieces many more times. I’m still going to be exhausted for what feels like FOREVER. I’m still surrounded by temptation to worry and fret and complain about hard things. But the simple act of lifting my voice lifted my spirits and thoughts to the One who listens, who hears, and who is with me, always.

So as long as motherhood feels crazy and wonderful and reveals HOW COMPLETELY OUT OF MY DEPTH I AM, I will be singing away. So for the rest of all time, really. So sorry not sorry. Good thing I’ve been practicing night and day, huh.

Your coffee should be the size of your infant's head.

Lying in bed would be an altogether perfect and supreme experience if only one had a colored pencil long enough to draw on the ceiling.

-G.K. Chesterton, In Defense of Sanity

I love you, O Lord, my strength.

The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,

my God, my rock, in whose I take refuge,

my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

Psalm 18:1-2

Sounds like the perfect clickbait title, doesn’t it? Which is exactly WHY I picked it! Bwhahahaha.

Because you probably can guess what the answer is…

ANYTHING.

ANYTHING AT ALL.

That’s what I wish they would have told me.

Well, maybe that’s not fair. What one doctor told me was “Pregnancy and being a mom is really hard anyway, and fibromyalgia will complicate that.” THANKS…THAT IS REALLY HELPING ME MAKE THIS LIFE-ALTERING DECISION. When I was researching pregnancy and fibromyalgia, all I really found was that studies show that fibromyalgia will probably make the first trimester even more intense, as far as depression, aches, and fatigue go. NO, REALLY. DID NOT SEE THAT ONE COMING. I do know, however, that it’s not true across the board, as a relative told me that her fibro improved immensely with pregnancy.

So there you have it. My entire load of research, in one pretty unhelpful paragraph.

Now that I’m 7 months pregnant, I can understand why there’s not more information out there. Pregnancy and fibromyalgia, at least for me, have often intersected to the point where I’m not sure if symptoms are from one or the other. THE LINES ARE BLURRED, MY FRIENDS. Very blurred. And I don’t really bother talking with my OBs about it, because the symptoms are so very similar, and what can they do anyway? “Oh, doctor, I’m EXTRA EXHAUSTED AND EXTRA ACHY!” “Well, that’s pregnancy for you! Exercise when you can and eat well and sleep well!” This is not to get all down on my OB team, because I LOVE THEM. They are AMAZING. But honestly, there’s just not much they can do.

So here’s a few things that I wish someone, anyone, would have told me about fibromyalgia and pregnancy.

1) You won’t know what’s fibro and what’s pregnancy sometimes. Like I said above, they can feel OH SO VERY SIMILAR. Feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck? Everything hurts, even areas of your body you weren’t aware of before? Can’t sleep? Digestive issues? Everyone telling you look great when you feel like a gremlin? COULD BE EITHER. It’s easier to assume that it’s pregnancy, because then you can focus more easily on the AMAZING PART OF GROWING A HUMAN AND HAVING AN ADORABLE BABY AT THE END OF ALL THIS. PS. totally assuming my baby will be adorable. DUH.

2) What is recommended for fibromyalgia will sound EERILY similar to pregnancy advice. Because your doctor is RIGHT. Eat well. Pace yourself. Get enough water. Sleep and rest when you can. Exercise carefully, but definitely exercise. Ask for help. Manage priorities and let go of what’s not essential. Seek support from other people in your situation. Take a multivitamin and fish oil and magnesium and probiotics. What’s annoying is that it’s all PRETTY TRUE AND SOLID ADVICE. For pregnancy and fibromyalgia and LIFE.

3) Get the body pillow. B got me one of those U-shaped ones for Christmas and IT IS INCREDIBLE. I totally wish I had one of these BEFORE pregnancy. With all the mandatory resting I do, having the extra and total support is really nice. REALLY NICE.

4) Researching symptoms will completely stress you out, because NO ONE KNOWS ANYTHING ABOUT FIBROMYALGIA OR PREGNANCY. As in, lots of conflicting information and not very many studies. Sure, there are the basics, like no sushi or soft cheeses or alcohol or a lot of prescriptions, but most of your everyday decisions will be based on gut instinct and rapid texting with someone else who is pregnant or has been pregnant or someone who is your mom. And be prepared for all the opinions, both in person and online. Pregnancy and chronic illness both stir up lots of feelings and advice. This can result in lots of UNMERITED GUILT. So not unlike fibro, where you just have to stumble along and try to DO THE BEST YOU CAN, pregnancy is the same. I’m guessing actual parenting is QUITE like this, as well. Also researching baby registry items will stress you out, but that’s not really related to fibro, so NONE OF THAT HERE.

5) Realize that you are the only one who can give your baby the love they need. There will be a lot of freak-out times and insecurities about the future and taking care of your infant once they’ve arrived. Every parent-to-be goes through this, but with a chronic illness, these feelings get pretty intense. Just like you’ve managed your life and your illness (really, you have! Even when it doesn’t feel like it!), you will welcome your baby and figure it all out. I’m realizing more and more that just like in every role we have in life, being a parent means just doing what you can with what you have, and it’s going to be hard and messy and complicated and totally wonderful. Am I nervous? HECK YES. Do I already cry often? UM DUH. Am I worried about not being able to be what my child needs? DON’T MAKE ME LAUGH. There will be days I won’t be able to get down on the floor and play or where we will just watch tv and eat easy food because Mom can’t get off the couch. There will be things I might not be able to participate in, because I have to pace myself and rest. But I am going to give my child all the love and help and guidance and compassion and mercy and grace and laughter I have in me. I am going to show my daughter how to take care of herself and ask for help and realize her worth isn’t in what she does, or in her accomplishments or appearance or housekeeping or goals or bank accounts or health or social standing. I am going to teach her to love God and love others, and that these two things, well, these make for a very wonderful life no matter else what we have to face.