Jerry & Sarah.com

100 Days of Luke is about, well, Luke. But if Jack’s 100 days were still going, this would have been his photo of the day. Papa taught him a funny trick, and Jack loves to entertain us with it.

My parents are on their way back to the States now, and they will be missed on this side of the world. They were an amazing help to us over the past two weeks, not to mention that the boys loved being able to spend time with them all day, every day.

The only thing predictable about giving birth to a baby is its unpredictability. When Jack was born, things were fairly normal, but being in another country, I really didn’t know what to expect. We definitely are experiencing the unexpected.

The actual birth itself went fairly quickly, for which I am thankful. I never thought of myself as the screaming type, but I’m pretty sure my decibel level alerted the whole hospital I was giving birth. The room was full of nurses and doctors, all of whom seemed to be giving different advice. “Push when you feel like it.” “Don’t push.” “Take deep breaths.” “Hold your breath and push.” But, my favorite was the sympathetic doctor closest to me who kept telling me, “Don’t yell. Just say haaaaa.” At one point, I retorted something about how much pain I was in and that I would yell if I wanted to, and she (being, I think, the only other mother in the room) whispered in my ear, “Oh, I know. I thought I was going to die too,” and then standing back up, she said a little louder, “But just say ‘haaaa….’”

It was at that point my sweet, amazing husband whispered in my other ear, “You just do whatever the heck you want to. He’s almost here.”

And out he came, just two hours after arriving at the hospital.

What I didn’t realize until much later was that most of the medical staff in the room was present for Luke, not for me. I heard a feeble cry after the cord was unwrapped from his neck, but only caught a glimpse of a head of black hair as they took him over to intubate him and whisk him off to the NICU.

I expected to spend the next few days in the hospital holding my newborn baby, but instead was sitting alone in silence 20 minutes after he was born. Not having Luke with us in the hospital gave me quite a bit of silence to read and pray and think, and I spent a lot of time drawing near to God through reading Psalms.

Some things I am remembering in these days:
God is in control.
For I know that the LORD is great,
and that our Lord is above all gods.
Whatever the LORD pleases, he does,
in heaven and on earth,
in the seas and all deeps.
Psalm 135:5-6

In both the good and the bad, God is never backed into a corner or wondering what might happen. I don’t understand how this works in the hard times, but I trust that it is true. It brings me great comfort to know that he is firmly holding everything in place.

God is near to Luke when I can’t be.
A mother has a natural instinct to hold and feed and rock and love her baby. It is really disconnecting and strange to not even have held someone I carried inside for 9 months. I want to be the comforter for him, but right now I can’t do much.

Yet you are he who took me from the womb;
you made me trust you at my mother’s breasts.
On you was I cast from my birth,
and from my mother’s womb you have been my God. 
Be not far from me,
for trouble is near,
and there is no one to help.
Psalm 22: 9-11

I have prayed this for Luke many times and am remembering that ultimately it isn’t me who is his hope anyway. God is near to him and able to help. He is Luke’s giver and sustainer of life.

God delights to help his children.
Sometimes I am afraid to say, “God, heal Luke” instead of saying, “God, I want you to heal Luke, but I trust you even if you don’t.” It’s not that I don’t believe he can. I do absolutely. But I also recoil at a faith that only trusts God’s hand in the good times. As I’ve read through Psalms, however, I am really challenged by the brazen prayers to God for help in the midst of trouble. He delights to come to the aid of those in need. So, I am asking boldly for him to heal and restore Luke’s body. He doesn’t owe us anything, but he does tell us to ask. And, again and again, he shows his power by rescuing those who are his.

His peace really is beyond understanding.
Above all, my heart has felt true peace since Luke was born. I am grateful for the promise of Philippians 4:6 and his faithfulness in fulfilling it in what could be an incredibly anxious time.

Thanks for standing with us in prayer. It has buoyed us more than you know.

We are thrilled to announce the arrival of Luke James! At 6 pounds, 3 ounces, he made his entrance at 10:03 am Thursday morning after a quick labor. Because he inhaled some meconium in the womb, the doctors and nurses whisked him away as soon as he came out, and he is spending his first few days in the NICU.

Jerry accompanied Luke while they stabilized him, and I was able to go to the nursery to meet him a few hours later…

I want so badly to pick him up and hold him close, but for now, we can only see him twice a day for 20 minutes.

Luke’s doctors and nurses have been fantastic, and he is making gradual progress each time we see him.

He was intubated for the first 24 hours, but when we saw him today, his breathing tube had been removed. Hopefully tomorrow, he will be able to start taking some water, and then milk. We aren’t sure exactly how long he’ll stay, but they say 10-14 days is likely.

It has been encouraging to hear from so many of you all over the world who are praying for Luke and for us. We certainly continue to covet your prayers for continued growth and health.

100 Days of Luke is live, and we look forward to posting new photo each day for the first 100 days of his life. We’ll blog more updates as we have them!

Jerry ran his second half marathon this weekend, and finished in 2:06. If he were telling this story, he’d tell you he ran horribly and didn’t do well. But he’s not. I am. He did awesome and finished 4 minutes faster than he did a few weeks ago, despite cold temperatures and an afternoon start. Way to go, Jerry!

As a mom, I’ve thought much about incorporating traditions into our family rhythms. Many moons ago, I remember my friend Kimber having a Thanksgiving Tree in her house where she helped her kids hang a new leaf each day with something they were thankful for. I gave it a go this year, and it was a fun, meaningful November activity that didn’t require a lot of work, money or planning. (For the record, I cannot confirm or deny any allegations about me sneakily breaking branches off trees in the neighborhood to use in this project.)

Each day until Thanksgiving, we added a new leaf to our tree, and sometimes we were able to ask friends (and even family via Skype) to contribute. Even though Jack is still young, he often remembered our daily task when I would forget.

Tonight before we took down our Thanksgiving tree, we paused to thank God for all the things we had added through the month. Jack’s top requests were milk, dogs and balls, and his simplicity reminds me often that all good things come from above, especially the things we most take for granted.

We replaced our Thanksgiving tree with a small Christmas tree, sans breakable/valuable ornaments because, well, the odds of the tree (and ornaments) ending up on the floor or in Jack’s mouth are high. We already had a heart-to-heart about why eating the donkeys from the nativity scene wasn’t in his best interest.

I am planning on doing a really simple advent calendar with the family this year as we tell the Christmas story, and have commissioned my seamstress-extraordinaire mom to help make us a nifty nativity advent calendar for future years. It will be worth the wait, I’m sure.

People here don’t ask, “How far along are you?” They usually ask something like, “How old is your baby?” when pointing to my bulging belly. They start counting age from conception, so when our boy is born he will be considered one year old. That’s one of the cultural differences I appreciate. Others I don’t appreciate as much.

My doctor here has been great, and while she is used to working with foreigners, still carries some of the traditional cultural views of things. For example, I went to a routine visit a few weeks back without Jerry and her first comment wasn’t, “How are you feeling?” It was, “So, maybe we can check with your husband about when would be more convenient for him to come?” Doctors here typically talk to the husband, not the wife about the wife’s medical decisions. Of course, I want Jerry to be there and be involved, but it took me awhile to get over the cultural assumption that pregnant women don’t have a brain.

Most of the cultural differences just make me chuckle. On more than one occasion, a friend has asked me how I am still wearing jeans. “Isn’t wearing normal clothes uncomfortable?” Of course, I am wearing maternity jeans with more elastic waistband action than should be allowed in a piece of clothing, but when I pull up my shirt to show them the wonders of stretchy pants, they still don’t get it. Maternity fashion (“fashion” is a stretch) is just different here, but I still opted to wear the clothes from last time around instead of forking over several hundred dollars on drab garments I will only wear for a few months.

I also met a boy at church recently who came eye-level with my now-protuding belly button. He was fascinated and kept trying to poke it back in. I thought it was hysterical.

Being pregnant here hasn’t been all that bad. My lifestyle is way more active than it was last time, so I am healthier and in better shape. I think most of the unwanted advice and different perspectives will come after the baby is born. New moms here typically don’t do anything for a month (including taking a shower, drinking non-hot beverages or eating anything beside seaweed soup). When discussing post-partum traditions with a local friend she said she saw a TV documentary all about how Asian women and American women have different bodies that require them to do these things differently. Interesting. I have various feelings about the reasons behind many cultural norms (some are good, some are skeptical), but those will be saved for another post.

Jerry ran his first half marathon today, finishing in 2:10. He has been training with a Nike+, which it turns out was not calibrated well, so he thought he had 2 more miles when he was almost at the finish line. I’m super proud of him for training and running so well. Way to go, babe!

Jack was enthralled with all the pre-race activities, and garnered at least six granola bars from race volunteers and participants. We tried to catch Jerry at the half-way point, but it turns out that running is, in fact, faster than public transportation. Thankfully, we made it back to the finish with ten minutes to spare.

I finally got to use the cute twist ties I recently bought at the baking market. For some time, I’ve been wanting to make something yummy to take and share with the families I see almost daily at our neighborhood park. Knowing our days of beautiful weather are numbered, Jack and I took the plunge today and made oodles of cookies that I bundled into 50 little goodie bags. (By “help,” I mean he stood on the chair, frantically trying to pour lots of non-ingredients into the bowl while repeatedly yelling out the actions I was doing, such as “mix,” “sift,” “bake.”)

We quickly emptied almost our entire bag, and I hope that despite my feeble attempts at conversing in the local language, our little acts of service will continue to open doors for relationships among our neighbors.

At the local church we attend on Sundays, all the moms of young ones (about 18 months and under) hang with their kids in a cry room behind the meeting space. Because the service is at 11, everyone brings food and snacks for their little ones to eat, and most share freely with everyone else.

Cheerios are a staple in my bag (they are available locally), as they aren’t too messy and are easy to take along. When we first started going, the other moms had never seen this strange snack, but their kids all loved to eat them.

I had a good laugh this week as one of Jack’s buddies sauntered over to my snack stash at the same time Jack was exploring someone else’s snack keeper. His mom started laughing and held up her cup. It was full of Cheerios, as were several other kids’. Without really trying, we’ve spread the Cheerio love.

The past few weeks have been full, in a good way. We took a trip to where we plan on moving next year, which was a great experience for us. Jack is quite a traveler, and he did great with new places, people and foods. Anywhere that has rocks and dirt is considered good in his eyes, hence the excitement with throwing rocks into a backhoe (photo below).

I turned 30 last week, and I am excited about the next decade. Although not much changed from October 1 to 2, for some reason I feel more “adult” now that I am past the 30′s mark. When I think of all the milestones of the last decade, my mind reels to imagine all that will happen in the next 10 years.

For now, we are back in language classes and are back to daily life. Fall is here, which makes me very happy. It’s my favorite.

In closing, here are a few more pictures of our sweet boy, who is growing fast, running everywhere, and talking up a storm. If I take my eyes off him for a few seconds, he is likely to be doing something mischievous like standing on top of the couch saying, “I’m tall!” or unrolling 15 rolls of toilet paper from the bathroom cabinet. Only three more months until we add another baby boy to the mix.