After two years of marriage, we had our first child, our son Timothy. I was going to name him Andrew with the middle name of Timothy, in honor of my brother. Robert suggested that we name him Timothy Andrew, but I thought I couldn't handle it, so I hesitated. But when I realized that if I went with Robert's suggestion, then his initials would be "T.A.Z." instead of "A.T.Z.", that is when I relented. So sad, but true. Anyway, he was so beautiful, and he was all ours! The truth is that I was terrified of being a mom. The question of "would I be good enough?" haunted me. Sure, I had a wonderful mother, but that didn't mean I would be one too, I knew that. I mean, it's not like I didn't have any experience with babies or children, after all, I was a babysitter for years, but it's different when the child is yours and is with you for more than 3 or 4 hours. Then there was the postpartum I had to deal with. Not fun. But in a few weeks, my bodies hormones regulated and I felt better.
Things were going fine. Timothy was a dream baby! He was well behaved. Not too colicky; a few years ago I read that "colic" is a misdiagnosis for over stimulation. A baby's neurological system is still developing, so over stimulation can make the system stressed, and what do we ladies do when we are over stressed? We cry, boy do we cry! Same for babies, so no, it's not gas, or colic, that is making your little bundle of joy wail, it's stress! The solution? Go to a quiet and dark room, and just hold your baby. Don't rock him/her, don't sing, just sit there and let your baby feel your warmth and hear your heart beat and let them cry it out. I know, it's TOUGH! You want to cry too, right? -- but just know that it's not you, it's their lil immature neurological system, it's growing, it takes time to develop, they will grow out of it, or er, into it! Whatever.
Okay, concerning Timothy, I could tell he was going to be a smarty pants (in a good way). As he sat in his little bouncy, he had a habit of furrowing his little brow and I could swear his little hand was under his cute little double chin. Was he; pondering? Yes, I could see his big dark eyes pondering something. Oh, boy.Now he has grown into a wonderful and intelli-gent young man (all bias aside - ha ha ha) and I am truly happy we named him Timothy. He was such a wonderful baby, that we decided to try it again! But my next pregnancy wasn't going so well, in fact it was terrible. I continued in my "name it and claim it faith" that every-one loves to make fun of, but then the unthinkable happened. I had been at work that day, and was in a great mood, because I was looking forward to Robert and I seeing our good friends for dinner that night. Then I started getting cramps. I was a little alarmed considering I had not felt "right" for the last few weeks.
But I consoled myself with the knowledge that many pregnant women had experienced cramps, but carried their children to full term. Later on I started bleeding a little, now this was a bit more worrisome. I called my doctor and he recommended immediate bed rest, and if the bleeding didn't stop after an hour, then I was to come in. As I laid on our bed, I could feel the fear creeping up on me, but I quickly relied on my Word of Faith training: rebuking and binding, naming and claiming, using the authority I had in Jesus. Even so, I ended up in the hospital that night instead of at our friends' home. An ultra sound revealed that I had lost the baby, even after all my positive confessions and faith filled words. Robert and I were devastated. I really believed it was all my fault, even though my doctor explained to me that I didn't physically do anything wrong, my body just couldn't, or wouldn't support the child.
Even so, I was convinced I lost our baby because my faith was weak. That was yet another golden opportunity that I let slip by where I could have searched for the truth, but I wasn't ready. On to the next few years where I was lovingly placed in God's crucible for more refining.
Things were going fine. Timothy was a dream baby! He was well behaved. Not too colicky; a few years ago I read that "colic" is a misdiagnosis for over stimulation. A baby's neurological system is still developing, so over stimulation can make the system stressed, and what do we ladies do when we are over stressed? We cry, boy do we cry! Same for babies, so no, it's not gas, or colic, that is making your little bundle of joy wail, it's stress! The solution? Go to a quiet and dark room, and just hold your baby. Don't rock him/her, don't sing, just sit there and let your baby feel your warmth and hear your heart beat and let them cry it out. I know, it's TOUGH! You want to cry too, right? -- but just know that it's not you, it's their lil immature neurological system, it's growing, it takes time to develop, they will grow out of it, or er, into it! Whatever.
Okay, concerning Timothy, I could tell he was going to be a smarty pants (in a good way). As he sat in his little bouncy, he had a habit of furrowing his little brow and I could swear his little hand was under his cute little double chin. Was he; pondering? Yes, I could see his big dark eyes pondering something. Oh, boy.Now he has grown into a wonderful and intelli-gent young man (all bias aside - ha ha ha) and I am truly happy we named him Timothy. He was such a wonderful baby, that we decided to try it again! But my next pregnancy wasn't going so well, in fact it was terrible. I continued in my "name it and claim it faith" that every-one loves to make fun of, but then the unthinkable happened. I had been at work that day, and was in a great mood, because I was looking forward to Robert and I seeing our good friends for dinner that night. Then I started getting cramps. I was a little alarmed considering I had not felt "right" for the last few weeks.
But I consoled myself with the knowledge that many pregnant women had experienced cramps, but carried their children to full term. Later on I started bleeding a little, now this was a bit more worrisome. I called my doctor and he recommended immediate bed rest, and if the bleeding didn't stop after an hour, then I was to come in. As I laid on our bed, I could feel the fear creeping up on me, but I quickly relied on my Word of Faith training: rebuking and binding, naming and claiming, using the authority I had in Jesus. Even so, I ended up in the hospital that night instead of at our friends' home. An ultra sound revealed that I had lost the baby, even after all my positive confessions and faith filled words. Robert and I were devastated. I really believed it was all my fault, even though my doctor explained to me that I didn't physically do anything wrong, my body just couldn't, or wouldn't support the child.
Even so, I was convinced I lost our baby because my faith was weak. That was yet another golden opportunity that I let slip by where I could have searched for the truth, but I wasn't ready. On to the next few years where I was lovingly placed in God's crucible for more refining.