The Things I Think

It was a hot, but beautiful day, even with a little rain mixed in (but that's good luck!). The ceremony was beautiful and I struggled to choke back tears during the first dance, father-daughter dance, and mother-son dance!

I gotta admit...after shooting this wedding, I am seriously contemplating coming back from my hiatus, but changing a bit of what I'm going to focus on. I know I want to at least try a birth session (like...in the delivery room), but I need to find willing subjects. If anyone knows someone who'd be interested, send them my way! Just Facebook me or email me at mwhitephoto@gmail.com.

April is c-section awareness month.

This is not a "feel bad for me, I had a c-section" post. It is not a "my story is a cautionary tale" post. The fact of the matter is if it weren't for c-sections and the technology available, I believe neither me or my son would be alive today.

I see how people get up-in-arms about c-section vs. natural birth. I'm not gonna do that. I just want to talk about my experience, where I'm at with it now, and how it will impact my future decisions (when we have another child - Lord willing).

If you want to read Roan's birth story, you can look here (<--link). If you don't want to read all the details and don't know the story, basically Roan was not going to make it out on his own due to a fibroid that was partially blocking the birth canal.

Yes, I was induced. My OB knew I didn't want to be induced and did all she could (giving me the lowest doses, starting out with everything but pitocin) to make Roan's birth as close to a natural birth as possible. My induction was not to blame for the c-section. Even after the pitocin, my contractions were very weak. My body was trying to say "Hey, this isn't gonna happen."

My c-section was listed as "failed induction". I know because I asked my OB. It made me wonder how many other c-sections were listed under that category when in reality it was more complicated than that.

There are statistics that show a link between inductions and c-sections. This appears to be proven true even just from the women I know who were induced. Most did result in a c-section, but certainly not all of them. I tend to think that what matters is a supportive OB.

The moment we decided to go with the c-section, I was calm about it. Me, my husband, my parents, and whoever else was in the room (I don't remember exactly) prayed before making the decision. I was calm once they started preparing me in the operating room. God just gave me a peace about it...peace that surpassed all understanding (even my own). Sean even asked me why or how I was so calm - I kept telling him it was going to be okay. At the risk of sounding like a crazy person, I felt God's presence in that room.

But after the birth, I mourned the loss of the vaginal birth I wanted. I cannot identify with other women who had vaginal births and experienced tearing, the moment the baby is born, or the pain of pushing. My only indication that Roan was out was hearing him cry. I couldn't see him until they brought him around the other side of the divider. I had stitches, too, but in a different place. I still feel like there are things I missed out on.

Ultimately, I have come to a place where I am grateful for my c-section. My c-section was not tragic. I love my scar! My scar means that Roan is here. He is healthy, super cute, and amazes me every day.

C-section awareness month to me is bringing awareness to the beauty of c-sections and their ability to save lives. Yes, complications can happen...it's a major surgery! Complications can also happen during vaginal births. Either way, having a baby poses risks (we can thank Eve for that one).

Will I try for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean)? No. Due to my medical history, it is very dangerous for me to have anesthesia because there's a chance I am allergic to it (this can be deadly). The risk of the uterine scar rupturing is not worth it to me. I have heard stories of this happening and the mother and/or baby almost not making it. I have heard of successful VBACs as well and I have total respect for them.

My baby and I being alive matters more to me than my selfish desires for a vaginal birth. I do want to do things a little differently next time, however. I want the baby to be placed on my chest before being wiped off. I want delayed cored cutting. A lot of the check-ups they do on the baby can be done while mom is holding the baby. I would like the birth to be as close to a vaginal birth as possible.

Expecting women should know the ins-and-outs of c-sections. I didn't know anything because a c-section was my greatest fear and I didn't want to even consider the thought of me having one. I wish I would have been more prepared emotionally. This is the major thing I want to tell pregnant women. Go for a natural birth if that's what you truly want. Do all you can to make that happen, but don't be so determined that you put you or your baby at risk. Be educated about c-sections and have a plan in place if you do have one because you never know. I didn't know I had a fibroid blocking the birth canal. It gets so crowded in there towards the end that the ultrasound tech and my OB couldn't see it. And know that if you do have a c-section, you are no less of a mother than a woman who had a vaginal birth. You still gave birth and don't let anyone tell you you didn't.

I've been so...I don't even know the best word. Emotional? Sentimental?

Really, this isn't all that new. Especially after Roan totally flipped my world upside down when he was born. Things just...affect me more.

My aunt and uncle are currently on their way home from the Congo where they picked up their two new beautiful children. They have three biological children as well.

My aunt has been updating every day on their experience in the Congo. I literally have been checking every morning and throughout the day for updates. I won't divulge any details, but I will say that I am so proud and blessed to say "That's my uncle," and "That's my aunt." It is Christ in them and using them that makes me proud. So really, I'm proud of Jesus.

And then I got to thinking about my grandpa and how, yet again, I wish he were here with us. I'm glad and jealous that he's celebrating in heaven, but I selfishly want him here. I know he's smiling on his son and his wife...how proud he must be!

So many times when I'm playing with Roan, or even just looking at him...I can't help but imagine what it would be like to see him playing with grandpa Larry...my "crampa". And how much I want to hear grandpa talk about his excitement to meet his new grandchildren from across the ocean. I just can't help it.

My grandpa lived his life for Christ. He loved people where they were at, truly the way Christ tells us to. It's a trait that I've seen passed on in the Detmers family. Not that we're all perfect or that my grandpa was perfect. But I am so, so grateful for the way he and my grandma raised their children...the legacy he left behind. I am so grateful that I grew up in such a loving family (immediate and extended). The holidays are my favorite time largely because of them. It's not just a quick get-together and go home. There's food, prayer, laughter, and genuine togetherness that lasts over the span of several days; though not all of the family is always present. It was really a lot of what kept me going when I struggled with depression; I almost thrived on the holidays & big Detmers get-togethers for a while. And Christ always used those times to remind me that He loved me and one day I would overcome that battle...and I did. The family keeps growing as there are more weddings and more children born (and now, adopted). I hope this continues; I want this for my son.

I kind of hate that I don't think about my grandpa as much as I used to and I don't even really cry about it all that much (or my uncle that also passed; though I do think it's healthy that I'm not still sobbing every day about it). But it is easier, if that's the right word, for me to get emotional about it. I think having a kid did that to me. I see now more than ever how important family is...and how not having some them here to meet Roan and other new members of the family just stinks. Yes, I'm being selfish here. But again, I can't help it.

I still remember grandpa's voice. I remember his hugs (they were truly unforgettable). I remember my uncle Rusty's hugs (equally unforgettable). I remember uncle Rusty singing to my brothers and I and playing his guitar. I have forgotten some things, but not all, thank goodness.

My heart is heavy with missing them, but my heart is also full with the multitude of things God has blessed me with; and I am so undeserving! This Thanksgiving and Christmas is going to rock and I can't wait to take lots and lots of pictures of Roan playing with my new cousins!

What a weird morning. And I've only been awake for an hour.

Today is the first day of school for Sycamore. The first first day of school in 5 years that I am not there for. Well, ok, second first day because of my maternity leave last year.

I can just picture it. Nervous kids (some), anxious, eager teachers & staff wearing matching Sycamore tshirts. Learning (or remembering) new routines and expectations. And I'm not there. I keep thinking those words..."I'm not there." I can't describe how sad that makes me feel.

I watch my son playing with his toys. He walks over and says "Up!" and my heart melts. I'm getting to spend precious time with him (when I'm not in class). How can I be sad about that?

I'm fulfilling my calling. How can I be sad about that, too?

It's bittersweet, to be sure.

One chapter of my life is ending and another is beginning. And I'm terrified.

I'm nervous for the first day of classes tomorrow. And not for reasons that I used to be nervous about the first day of school. This means I'm really doing this. I'm really going back to college.

When I was hired as a paraprofessional at Holt Public Schools, I was ecstatic, to say the least. I met the ladies I'd be working closest with and I knew instantly it would be a very, very good thing. I was right where God wanted me, without a doubt. The years went on and every day I thought "Am I really this blessed? This blessed to be working with these people...these kids?"

But the thought of "Does God have more in mind for me?" began. I started to feel Him nudging me more and more. Circumstances kept popping up that led us to feel that what's best for our family is for me to be a teacher (special ed, to be specific). And I feel it's God's will.

On the other hand, the thought about leaving Sycamore terrified me. It still does. It's scary to walk away from something that feels so good and right. I mean, it literally was the first job I had where I didn't wake up some mornings sick to my stomach at the thought of having to go to work. Sure, some days I wanted a day off to be lazy, but never because of the job itself. My job became my passion.

The kids have taught me so much. Each student will stay with me forever in some way. They taught me to laugh more. They taught me patience (by testing it, haha). They taught me to never judge a book by it's cover. They taught me never, ever to underestimate the potential a student has...special ed or not.

The staff helped me to realize that teaching is my purpose...my calling. I truly believe it is. Over the years, I watched them teach and love on the students (fellow paras and teachers). I know I will take bits and pieces of their teaching methods with me into my own classroom one day.

Ideally...I finish my degree and certification and am hired on as a special ed teacher at Sycamore (with every staff member currently there, of course). A girl can dream.


The frightening part for me is "What if I fail?" Well, not fail academically, but what if we find it's not feasible to live off one income and I have to go back to work? I mean, to be honest, we haven't punched out the exact numbers yet. But we've survived the summers without me getting paid, so I'm hoping just strict (really strict) budgeting, grocery shopping at Aldi more, and clothes shopping at Goodwill or insanely good clearance racks will make it possible.

Things haven't gone the way we thought it would. We thought without me getting paid, we'd qualify for assistance to help make ends meet. Turns out we don't qualify for anything (well, Roan does for medical coverage and we can get the Ingham Health Plan, but IHP only covers the very basic stuff). I didn't get the Pell grant (it's based off of last year's taxes, which shows my income). We were denied every other kind of government aid.

The other thing I'm not sure of is which university to get my bachelors from. I need something that preferably is in Lansing or close to it. My only Lansing option is Michigan State. As a State fan, I'd love to go to State. However, the education program is difficult to get in to. I've never been a bad student, but I wonder if my grades from Cornerstone and IPFW would hurt my chances. I'm nervous as to whether or not I'd make the cut.

If not in Lansing, I need something affordable...that will leave me with minimal debt. So that rules out Spring Arbor. The only other option I see is Central. Central's special ed program is only offered at the main campus...not online. So I can try to schedule my classes so I only commute two days a week, but what if I can't for some reason? The gas money & childcare for Roan could potentially add up quickly.

Before being denied for assistance, I thought "God is opening all the right doors!" But when those doors were closed, the doubts creeped in. I selfishly don't want to leave Sycamore and we're not getting any help financially that doesn't require adding on more debt at the moment. But when it comes down to it, I still know this is what God wants me to do. Just because we were denied everything doesn't mean God is trying to tell me "I changed my mind." Pretty sure he doesn't do that.

Also, I thought I could take a leave from work and they'd just get a sub...that way if things got bad, I could just go back to working at Sycamore. Well, since it's a longer leave, they are guaranteeing me a position with HPS, but my specific position at Sycamore is being hired out. I forgot that's how things worked, and I understand why, but that makes it even more scary...that if I do have to go back to work, I likely would be in a different building. Granted, the plan is for me to not have to return, but still.


I feel God asking me daily: "Do you trust me? Do you really, really trust me?" And I ask myself daily "Do I trust Him?" Honestly, I feel like this is the first time in my life where I'm truly having to trust that he has my days in the palm of his hand. His will truly will be done.