Introduction

 

   It had been a hot minute since I have written a word, but I'm finally ready to start documenting life and musings again. I thought it would be beneficial to do an introduction post since it has been so long. 

   Hi! My name is Alana. 

Here's a list of things  to paint a picture of who I am: 

• Daughter of the most high king
• Wife to the hard working love of my life
• Mother to two children I birthed, one that I have the privilege to help raise (daughter from another mother.), and the sweet boy growing inside me who will be the cherry on top of our family. 
• Stay at home/ part time work from home mom
• Self proclaimed singer
• Born and raised Texan country girl, through and through. 

The list could go on, but you get the picture. 

   The bulk of my time and energy is poured into my husband and my kids. I work hard to meet their daily needs, and find myself feeling like I've fallen short half the time. In between the cracks I try to fill my own cup by working out regularly and spending time with friends. Quiet time with God is often on the back burner. Even though I regret this every time I catch myself having a short fuse with someone I love. You'd think I'd learn to ensure that valuable time is top priority, huh? What can I say, I'm a work in progress. 

   All this to say, I am so looking forward to allowing God to speak through my simple life, in hopes that maybe it will reach just one person. 

It’s only the beginning

   It feels strange to say that trying to breastfeed may be one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to accomplish, but I think it could easily be true. 

I has been such an emotional journey. More so than I ever imagined it would be. From Ember latching on in recovery, to her fighting feeds, to her dropping too much weight, to me starting my pumping journey, to her gaining her weight back but then refusing the breast, to getting her tongue tie revised and her still refusing to nurse… it’s been a lot. I’ve cried countless tears. I’ve yelled at God... I’ve begged Him to do something, and now I think I’m on a journey to accepting where we’re at and grieving the nursing journey I wanted. 

  

   I know that this is just the beginning of things not going my way. A good friend told me that when I found out I had to have a C-section, and another good friend said that this is just the beginning of having to trust God with my daughter. 

  

   I’m trying to take this thing one step at a time. I’m making small goals for myself. I have officially been pumping for two months as of January 18th. My next goal is to make it to three. I would love to look back a year from now and say that I pumped for a year, but I know that to make it, I need small goals. Not a huge daunting one. 

  

   Pumping takes a lot of planning and forethought. It’s time consuming. But I love every ounce of breast milk I’m able to give my daughter. 

11.13.19

   We awoke early in anticipation of what the day was to hold. I remember being tired still from the typical night of waking to use the bathroom multiple times. I also remember feeling anxious, and not just the excited kind. Even with having weeks to prepare, I was still scared to have surgery. 

   I was sitting up in bed and Justin must have felt my apprehension, because without a word, he prayed over the three of us and the upcoming day. I cried, thankful for my husband. 

   The short drive to the hospital had me a ball of nerves. I remember praying over and over that my parents would make it before I even had to go back. Thankfully they did. Justin and I were still in the waiting room when mom and papa came out of the elevator. We all got to go to the recovery room where I would be prepped before the cesarean. 

   This started the long wait to be taken down to the OR. My cesarean was pushed back a few times. We checked into the hospital at 7AM, but didn’t go for surgery until close to 11AM. Longest hours of my life. I was so done waiting, but I had no choice. 

   Finally they came with my wheelchair to wheel me down to the OR. Justin had to wait outside of the OR while they prepped me and I felt that in the pit of my stomach. I remember the nurses and everyone prepping me being so nice. They were doing their best to keep me calm and for awhile it worked. By the time I was numbed and strapped to the table, I was so full of anxiety that I held back tears multiple times. I probably asked them three or four times when Justin could come in. When he finally came, I was shaking from nerves and holding back tears. Having him by me helped take a lot of my anxiety away though. 

   It was time. The surgery began. I felt no pain, but all the tugging and pulling. What a weird sensation. It went so quickly. Before I knew it, Ember was being pulled from me. It took her a moment to cry. They flipped her around and then suddenly… that cry. She was okay. They lowered the drape so I could see her. Justin was able to follow her over to the warmer where she was checked, and soon it was just him and her. She was perfect. 

  I started to feel a little funny, a sensation of heartburn. I asked the person behind my head if this was normal. It was and it also wasn’t uncommon to get nauseated. Boy was that the truth. Before I knew what was happening, I was hit with a wave of nausea. They brought me a cool cloth, an alcohol swab to smell, and took the warm blanket off of me. I was told there was medicine they could give me, but they wanted to try the other stuff first because the medication would make me a little drowsy. It helped at first. But then it didn’t. I felt like I needed to vomit. I was dry heaving. My Doctor had to stop because I was moving too much. It was time for the medicine. I was scared and miserable. 

  I remember hearing my doctor say that if this didn’t work, they would have to put me under. 

I didn’t want that. Going under would mean I couldn’t go back to the L&D recovery with Ember. She would be taken to the nursery and I would have to recover without her. I couldn’t let that happen. I was not doing well. They asked me if I wanted Justin and I said yes. He held my hand and talked me through it. The medicine was helping and I was also mentally able to get to a better place. Dry heaving wasn’t going to help me. There was nothing in my stomach to vomit. The nausea subsided, but the tugging and pulling still felt awful to me. The medicine has also made everything a little slow and hazy. But I was okay. 

  Once I was stable nausea wise, Justin got Ember from the warmer and held her by my head. My sweet daughter. I couldn’t believe she was mine. That she was *ours*. 

  When I was finally stitched and glued up, my doctor said the surgery went beautifully and she was going to go update my parents. 

  I was transferred onto a transport bed and then it was time. Time for me to hold my daughter for the first time. She was placed on my chest skin to skin. I was in awe. I still felt a little funny because of the medicine, but I was okay. I had done it. I had birthed my daughter and lived to tell the tale. 

  Back at the recovery room my parents were there to meet us. Soon Justin’s parents came in with Ava so she could also meet her brand new baby sister. I was enjoying my skin to skin cuddle time with my daughter, so they all just had to look at her and wait. She was perfection. Everyone said so. I knew she was. I thanked God for her. 

Ember Donae Hakes 8lbs 9oz 19.5 inches long. Born November 13th 2019

32 weeks and counting....

   As I sit here, just over 7 weeks away from giving birth to my first biological child, I'm in awe that I'm so close. This has been something I've dreamed of since before I can remember, and in a lot of ways it's exceeded my expectations. 

   Being sick and having no energy was hard in the first trimester, but seeing my daughter on the sonograms and hearing her heart beat gave me a feeling I can't begin to describe. 

   The second trimester was physically really easy. It's when I started feeling her move, and when I learned that she was a girl. I had all my energy back, and I was actually starting to *look* pregnant. Emotionally though, it was a big struggle. I learned that I would have to have a C-section, instead of having the completely natural birth that I've always dreamed of. To say that I was able to take it all at face value and just see the things I should be thankful for, would be a big huge lie. My Doctor told me the news over the phone, and instead of being able to keep my wits about me and ask intelligent questions, I got off the phone as quickly as possible. Why, you ask? Because I felt a massive emotional breakdown coming. I locked myself in the bathroom at work and just sobbed for a few minutes. It would be safe to say I cried everyday for about a week before I was able to start to come to terms with my situation. I was grieving the loss of my dream. Also, I was pissed at God for not putting me back together and healing me to have my child naturally. It was a feeling of missing out on a beautiful experience. Somehow God brought me through to the other side, though. 

   Now on my 32nd week and in my third trimester, I have a lot better of an outlook on my birth plan. God blessed me immensely with the specialists He provided for me. They are kind and knowledgeable. I truly am looking forward to working with them. Of course I'm apprehensive of having surgery, especially since mine won't be routine, but I'm trusting that God will walk me through it and keep me safe. I'm so in love with feeling my daughter move. Even with her still inside my womb, I'm learning her personality. Every night before bed, Justin will put his mouth to my stomach and talk to her, which is honestly the highlight of my day. She gets so excited when she hears his voice. 

   I'm so excited for November to get here so that she can come out and meet us. Which has nothing to do with how done with being swollen and having a basketball for a stomach, I am, haha. 

Adulting

   Adulting is learning how to budget out your money so that you're not broke right after payday.
It's keeping up with your laundry and not letting the dishes out of control. Adulting means you do what you have to do to take care of yourself and your family (if you have one). It means you put off that weekend away you wanted, so you can catch-up financially.

   Being an adult isn't exactly fun much of the time, but it can be rewarding. The wife and mom life is exhausting, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I have longed for this life for my entire life. It't harder than I ever imagined, but I was made for this. I was made to love my husband and children. I'm honestly in awe of the fact that God has brought me to this point. I'm working. I'm growing. I'm fighting hard everyday, and I won't stop!

Adulting is just a fact of life.

Trust

    You know, they don't tell you how hard the transitions of life are going to be. They don't tell you about the trials, hick-ups, and unforeseen issues. They don't tell you that financial stability is a joke for most people.

   I'm newly married, and a new homeowner. I honestly am so blessed with the life God has given me. My husband is loving and attentive. I adore my bonus-daughter. Our new home is beautiful.... there's always a "but". It ultimately comes down to money. Our house is placed, the land cleared, but we've come up short. As seems to be the trend. I know that this, along with so much else in life, is a beautiful test of faith and trust in my Heavenly Daddy, but I'd be lying if I told you I'm not sick to my stomach with anxiety. I just want to live in my new home. I want for everything to be hooked up and ready for us. I don't want my faith to be trusted. I just want to skip right to the blessing at the end. I'm sick with worry of how everything is going to come together, and how we'll get it all paid for. This is our home. It's not something we can cut corners on or half-ass.

  Don't get me wrong, God has already shown-up in mighty ways. Which just makes it more ridiculous that I'm struggling to sit at His feet, instead of pacing anxiously. I can't see the end, so I worry. All I can see is what hasn't been done and the dollar signs adding up. Truthfully, I'm allowing myself to become painfully weighed down. I need to give Jesus my burdens.

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."  

Matthew 11:28-30

Abba, 

   I ask you for help. I sit here, laying my burdens at the foot of the cross. They are not mine to carry. Help me to not pick them up anymore, and if I do, remind me to set them down again. I choose to trust you to take care of my family and I. It's hard to see how right-now, but I know that you love us and you will not leave us high and dry. 

  I thank you for all that you've already done. You've already shown up in mighty ways, and I trust that you will never stop doing so. 

  Give us guidance as we move forward, and wisedom to know when to wait. Pour your peace over us. 

  We love you, Dad. 

In Jesus Name, Amen

   

Calling

   I have this tendency to forget the calling which was placed on my life. Not just the calling of worship (though I know without a shadow of doubt that worship is something in which I have been called).
   I have been called to be a light. I have been called to shine Jesus. I have been called to change atmospheres. In my day to day life I come into contact with many people, and for a few minutes at a time, they are looking to me. Now, to them, they may only be speaking to me so I can get their next appointment scheduled, but that in no way removes the responsibility I carry.
   It is my choice whether I speak life or death. It is up to me if I am going to just idly go about my day, or if I will take hold of the opportunity I have been given to make a difference.

   Something I have been working on is having a quiet time each morning. How can I expect to pour out onto others, when I haven't filled up? You see, I know that, as a christian, I am an atmosphere changer. If I've filled up with Jesus and geared myself up for the day, perhaps I might walk into a room and shine light. My attitude has power. My words have power. My actions have power. They either show Jesus or they don't. There is no middle ground. So what will my choice be?

Life or Death?