Baby in Me: At work

The day before, I had been sent home because my standing around doing nothing pulse wouldn't drop below 100 bpm for over an hour, so today I was apprehensive about getting back on the floor but decided to throw myself in.
I stand in pre-shift only because the available chairs are too deep in the tiny room overflowing with people to secure. Just standing, with my glass of water. I normally chase the calories in Sierra Mist, but I heard dehydration may have caused my heart rate yesterday. Just standing, like a normal person, holding a cup of water, like a normal person, when it fell from my grasp and shattered on the floor. Everyone looked from the mess on the floor to me. "I'm pregnant!" (Man, it's good that's not under-wraps anymore.) And the room reanimated, people laughing at my pronouncement, people rushing to get brooms, people nudging pieces of glass to a localized location. And we proceeded with my husband's mantra: sweep it up and throw it away.

Throughout the 8 hours I was on the clock, the new pregnancy klutziness did not abate. I uprighted at least three trays, most of which were caught with no damages, but one. That one involved me dumping 7 cups of water on myself and breaking a glass into the ice. That's right. Broken glass in the ice is always a bad day.

Finally this awesome day (I left with $175. It was a pretty good day!) ended. I had finished doing the condiments for Jacob and my sections while he swept. (Bending forces the belt I have to wear because my pants don't close anymore painfully into my son.) My manager  came over to check our sections. That's when I saw it. "Oh, no! Someone stole my cracker caddy!" I said staring at the poorly filled cracker caddy left on my table, "I'm going to cry," I jested in exaggeration. That's when my hormones betrayed me. My face turns red, my eyes fill with tears. "No! no! Do not cry! This is not worth crying over!" My manager is looking at me in horror and reaches out to comfort me. "No! Do not touch! It will make it worse!"
"Are you seriously-"
"I'm pregnant! I have hormones! They are acting up! I am fine!"
From beside us, Jacob speaks up, "She's fine. Can you finish checking my section?"
Our manager looks in horror from his cavalier face to my face contorted in a battle dominance: brain vs hormones.
It took a bit more effort to convince him and get on with checking our sections, but I think in the long run it was all worth it. From now on, whenever our good friend gives me a hard time, I can warn him, "Don't make me cry! You know I will!"

It was a good day.

Baby Registry Day in the Magical Land of Babies

Let's think back to wedding registry day(s).
Back when love was new, when you wandered into the stores of your choosing to pick out the items you'd like to begin your life of togetherness with. And then it began.
Everyone I've talked to about wedding registry day acquires a shadow over their face as the memories resurface.
And we all know what the worst wedding registry store of them all is.
Bed, Bath, and Beyond.
Some have called it the Day of the Fight. Others, the Day of the Tears. But (almost) all us married folks know that day of being blindsided by the horror of horrors that is wedding registry day.
And the reason it's so bad, you single people or profoundly lucky married ones ask?
For the first time, nitty gritty details of day to day life are being hacked out in a store over the course of hours (which you don't realize until you walk out and look at the time).
"Why do we need that?! I don't even know what that is!"
"Seriously? It's a steamer!"
"It looks like a deformed colander. Which! By the way! We do in fact need!"
"Why spend money on a colander?! Just hold the pasta back with a spoon!"
"You're supposed to rinse the pasta!"
"WHY WOULD YOU RINSE PASTA?!"

Baby registry day... On baby registry day you walk in with gloom of wedding registry day over you, but with adorable little baby things drawing you in. You sit down at Babies R Us Registry Desk for the same reason you sat at Bed Bath and Beyond, because that's where you go. But instead of jamming a book of overpriced dinner plates in your face, they give you a bottle of water. And a gift bag. And then you're confused. This seems... nice. They give you a list of things you need. Which is such a relief because if this is your first you have no idea what babies need. And then you go through the aisles and check off the list, scanning items all the while. When you get to scary places like the diaper rash aisle, you stop random mothers and ask what Butt Paste they use, and suddenly you use that too! And off you go down another aisle of adorable baby things. There's nothing to fight about in the magical land of babies.

You can have no difference of opinions if you don't have any opinions to start with. You just do what you're told by the list and random moms as you sip your water. At some point in the store, your shadow completely dissipates and the sun shines down on you and the joyous experience of Baby Registry Day. Three hours later, you skip out to your car, and turn back to smile fondly at the Babies R Us storefront.
Skipping to the car after spending three hours in a store?
Previous to Baby Registry Day, I would have scoffed, but forever more, my face will brighten upon the memory of: Baby Registry Day.

Apparently, I'm a Clutz now...

Now the objective of this blog is to keep you, the readers, updated on my (and now our) lives, in a way that is hopefully entertaining and/or enriching.This is a more successful endeavor when unusual things are happening to me. Like living in the jungle. Or being pregnant! So I apologize for the lack of posts since February (as absolutely nothing remotely interesting happened to me other than my secret first trimester).
But without any further ado!!! Let me regale you with the unusual happenings of my pregnant life!!

*Ahem*

I don't know about other pregnant women. But I have lost the ability to manage the simplest of things. And the ability to manage my reactions to such lapses.
What do I mean by this...?

Have you ever just been holding your keys, like a normal person, in your hand, without walking or moving or anything, and suddenly they just fall out of your hand? just fall. No hand spasm, no jerking, no twiddle. More like your hand suddenly becomes insubstantial and the keys fall through your phantom phalanges. This happens regularly. Like all the time. If I put my keys in my hands, my husband stoops just in case.

Once, I tried to pour a creamer in my coffee at a restaurant. As I worked on peeling off the paper, I failed. The container flipped out of my hands and landed right in my coffee. Its sealed lid bobbed, mocking me. I let out a strangled cry as my hormones and brain got into a fight over whether it was the right decision to start crying in the middle of a restaurant over the creamer in my coffee. Luckily, Jacob was ever vigilant and not only spooned it out of my cup in a jiffy, but also (successfully) removed the paper and poured (not put) it in my cup.

I poured myself a cup of milk at the house. The last cup of milk in the jug. And I set it down on the table. Like a normal person. Except, as we know, I am not a normal person anymore. I am a pregnant lady. I don't know how or why the cup of milk capsized. All I know is that I was standing in a white kitchen chanting, "I will not cry over spilt milk, I will not cry over spilt milk..." as Jacob ran in with a towel.
(As these stories have indicated, I have also stopped being a problem solver. Luckily, Jacob has stepped up into that void.)

Is this just me? Or is this a thing?

The Phlebotomist

This post will be peppered with Fun Facts About Elizabeth! See if you can find them all!

We had been sitting in the examining room for 2 hours now, which says nothing of how long we had been in the waiting room, before the ultrasound and after the ultrasound. Outside the blinds, across the street, there was a McDonalds. It's golden arches like the gates to paradise! (Obviously, my famished stomach had romanticized the idea of McDonalds.) I didn't send Jacob out because I figured the Doctor would come any second. Hours later, my decision did not fill my empty stomach with anything but regret. I hate having to wait at the drs!* I come 15 minutes early so I will be ready at my appointment! Don't overbook yourself!

And just as I was about to overheat from anger, the phlebotomist entered the room and my hot rage was replaced with cold fear. I do not appreciate being stabbed by needles.* I also have a tendency to loose my ability to filter thoughts before they pass through my lips with trying to maintain my composure.* Also, I am hilarious.* It was these things combined that pave the way for the story I entitle:

The Phlebotomist

This slight black woman entered my room with a chuckle already on her lips. She set down her Kit of Doom and pat her short curly hair before putting on her gloves. 

"Are you going to take my blood?!"

She chuckled a bit before saying, "Yes, I've got to take some blood. We have to do some testing!"

This she said as she prepped her cotton ball, removed the bandaid from the wrapper and stuck on end of it on her glove, literally at hand. 

"Look at her!" I say to my husband. "She's got a system! She's got this stuff down!"

She chuckles some more as she comes at me with the Band of No-Circulation and the Needle, which had a blue thing on it. 

"What is that?! That's looks like a straw!" my filterless mouth blurts.

She starts laughing, "What looks like a straw!?"

"That thing!" I exclaim pointing at the blue thing. 

"Elizabeth," my husband admonishes me. "You know what that is. You've taken blood before."

A look of disbelief and horror cross my face. "What!?!?" I gasp. "I would never remove blood from someone's body! Why would you do that?! Blood belongs on the inside of people's bodies! No offense, ma'am." I say turning to the woman aiming a needle at my vein. 

At this point, the phlebotomist is cracking up. 

In turn, I begin laughing and with my laughter, tears start spilling down my face. 

"What are you crying for!??!" she asks.

"Sometimes. that happens. when I laugh."* I manage to choke out between bouts of laughter and gasping for air. 

At that the woman fell over on the floor laughing. 

"Look at her!" I roar. "She fell over! Woman has to take her gloves off!"

"Are you serious?!" she roars back. "You cry when you laugh?"

"Pregnancy is confusing!" I cry. 

And we all broke down again, roaring, rolling, crying, the works.  

Pulling ourselves together, she repreps herself as I led to the soiling of her gloves. 

"Honey, you have to talk to her," she tells Jacob, "because she can't talk to me!"

So Jacob starts talking and I, apparently a little unaware of what all was going on, look down at the moment she's about to stab me. And, with no filter, exclaim, "She's about to stab me!"

Which sets her laughing again. 

"Elizabeth!" Jacob says, "You're not supposed to look"

"She looked down at the exact wrong moment," guffaws  the lady who is still laughing. 

"Ok! Ok! I've got it this time."

Jacob resumes talking. She stabs me. I let out a strangled noise of pain. 

"You're doing great, honey. That's two. It looks like she just has one more... oh... wait..."

"What?! How many!? How many is she taking!?!?"

"I don't know. A lot?"

The phlebotomist starts laughing again. 

"Don't make her laugh, Jacob!" I scolded. "She'll break off the needle inside of me! I don't even know how you would get that out! I would just have a needle in my arm!"

"They would cut you open," my ever logical husband explains. 

"I DON'T WANT THEM TO CUT ME OPEN!"

At that moment a very concerned looking nurse explodes into the room! All three of us are dying laughing. I have tears running down my red face. Blood is pouring out of my arm (into the appropriate receptacles.) Jacob is doubled over beside himself. The phlebotomist body is racking with peals of laughter. 

"We're fine! We're fine!" she told the nurse. 

And after we had a minute to compose ourselves, I pondered, of course aloud, "Was I being loud?"

3 Reasons Why Waiting to Announce is Lame

Ok so by now it's public knowledge that I'm pregnant. If you didn't know that then.... GUESS WHAT!??!?! I'M PREGNANT!
Ok.
It's been a while since I've posted anything because I've been totally baby-brained for the past 3... 4ish months and we've been keeping it on the down low for like 3 months! Which has been pretty lame for a multitude of reasons which I will enumerate for you here:

1. Demands to meet at 8 am.
   So here's the thing. My biggest suffering has been sheer exhaustion. Working in the office, (trying) to do Partnership Development, basic living and staying awake has been quite the feat. Now you add to this the fact that I can't have caffeine. (I had to go on a cup of half-caff coffee a day, just to keep the withdrawal headaches away! But I've since been weaned, so there goes that modest boost.) Furthermore, my husband doesn't get home from work until like super late. After midnight. And while I'm cognitively aware that he tries (to some degree) to be quiet when he gets home and I'm in bed, I'm a very light sleeper. On top of ALL of this, I am susceptible to the pregnancy mood swings. So what people are asking is for me to not get sufficient sleep, not drink coffee, and roll out of bed as a happy functioning individual who can contribute to something instead of violently removing someone's head. And while expressing, "Hey, so... I'm pregnant. And 8am is too early for someone making a human being without coffee" would be a satisfactory explanation to all involved, I have to go the cryptic route of "I am.... unavailable... at that time." "Are you sure you can't make it?" "Yes. Yes, quite."
2. Attempts to be polite about my physical appearance.
   "You look! ... ........ great...."
   "I'm pregnant!" would totally justify why I'm rocking the muffin top and the buttons on my shirt are a bit tight. It would explain why there was no energy to put on make up or do anything more with my hair than whip it up in a ponytail and wonder when the last time I washed it was. My clothes look wrinkled where they're not stretched to capacity because I did in fact just roll out of bed. Naps, I take at every available moment. I am rocking the grunge look like it's hot! But it's not....
3. Odd looks when I stuff my face.
   So it's not enough that I look horrible, but I'm also, constantly, shoveling food into my face. Which receives no sympathy when you have quite obviously been putting on some pounds. Especially when filling the face happens during conversations. "I'm pregnant" would garner sentiments like the technically incorrect "Oh! You eat, honey! You're eating for two!" or the subtle threat "Eat up while it'll still stay down!" Instead, my frequent bouts of ravaging hungry which are quickly satisfied with a few bites are deserving of comments like, "...do you have worms?" ".... no..."

Now that I'm in the second trimester, these things have mostly gone away. I'm rocking some maternity pants, which takes care of the muffin top with a bit more class than the sweats... And not only have I been less tired, but now I sleep like a rock! Win! "I'm hungry" is uttered about 8-12 times a day, but I can now justify it, which is lovely.

Did you have sufferings found in keeping pregnancy secrets?

Clean or Unclean: A Flowchart

One of the ways I've been filling my time, now that I'm not in school anymore, is by preparing for the event formerly known as PMI. (Presently it's nameless...) This event is a huge to.do for Pioneer Bible Translators, where those interested in joining come to check us out, where missionaries congregate, where important training takes place, and where the semi-annual board meeting takes place.  With all this going on at the same time, it's an event planning nightmare and it requires all hands on deck.

I was given a piece of this pie as my very own: Children's Activities and Games.
Childcare is a must at an event like this and kids have to have a chance to exercise their muscles during games and exercise their heads during activities. So my job is fill the holes in the schedule with activities and games that correspond to the lessons. This endeavor has me scouring the internet but sometimes she comes up dry. And whenever I am frustrated by dry spots on the internet I take it as a personal mission to ... spritz it?

(like I did with 5 Date Ideas for a Long-Distance Relationship)

So last week's dry spot was a flowchart for determining if an animal was clean or unclean by levitical law. The lesson we're covering during not-PMI is Peter's vision at Cornelius' house. The whole: and God said, I made that! Don't call it unclean!
They're trying to have the take away for this lesson be that while children's Bible's depict pig on the blanket, God was presenting a lot of animals that probably looked really gross to Peter (the CEV translates unclean as disgusting in some places in LEV 11), bringing us to the theme of the week: the Holy Spirit: sometimes He tells you to do things you don't want to do.
This flow chart could also be used for Old Testament lessons covering... wait for it... Levitical law. It's versatile like that.

Flowchart for determining if an animal is clean or unclean according to the Old Testament Law

Click to make it bigger!!

Ok, so this was intended for ages 6-12 and is simplified for that purpose. (I'm talking to you biblical scholars and bible college students! Breathe easy!)
As you can probably deduce, if the answer to your question is yes, follow the green arrow, conversely if no, follow red arrow.
I consciously pondered leaving in terms like "chew the cud", "cleft-footed", and "carrion bird" despite the target age starting at 6. I concluded that these are major key terms for this particular discussion and we should start to familiarize the students with them. I did include a glossary at the bottom of the page including a list of examples.*
When it came to birds, there wasn't so much a list of attributes for determining if a bird was unclean as much as a list of birds. But these birds found themselves in three major categories as illustrated above. I feel comfortable with it and it's just a Sunday School activity and Peter just found out that eating all the animals is ok so I don't have to worry about someone facing hellfire and brimstone on my poor instruction!
The final question: is it a reptile? is my way of summing up the section on things that crawl on the ground, whether it moves on its belly or walks on all fours or with many feet (LEV 11:42). Listed were things like weasels, lizards, and I'm taking "with many feet" to mean centipedes. Weasels are covered in mammals and centipede fits into a 6 year olds definition of "bug" so all that remained was Thou Shalt Not Eat Reptiles.

So there you go! Flowchart. My present occupation.


*Even though sometimes the work I have my hands in now can feel so far from Bible Translation, the work I want to be up to my elbows in, there are actually a lot of parallels and overlap. Sometimes its the serving missionaries at not-PMI by entertaining their kids. Sometimes its the serving state-side missionaries by taking things like Chrildren's Activities and Games off their plate. But sometimes I get to put my training to work. Deciding on whether or not to keep key terms that mean nothing to the people in hopes that they will apply a biblical definition to it vs taking an imperfect term from their language and hoping the imperfections won't hinder the message vs an assortment of other options is an important part of Bible translation!

Portland 2014

(continued from Las Vegas 2014,
which was continued from I Hate the Journey.)

Portland. The most hipster city on Earth.
From the labyrinth of Powell's book, through the bike lane lined streets, in and out of local coffee shops, to the churches we came to visit, Portland was an exciting, if not freezing, addition to our annual trip to Vegas.

It all started with a few cold calls. We got in contact with a church who said they were interested but wanted to really know the people they committed to supporting. "Give us a call if you ever find yourself in Portland," they said and we did.
Jacob's aunt works at a church up there as well. They had given us a gift for our 2012 trip to Papua New Guinea. So we were able to meet with both churches and were invited to speak at Westside Church of Christ, sharing our ministry with the congregation who had already invested in us. It was a good trip. We were excited for the opportunity and we can't wait to visit again.

3 Things We Will Definitely Revisit

Symposium Coffee - This is a charming coffee shop in Tigard run out of a house built in 1910. While the main room is excellent for the typical coffee shop atmosphere, the former bedrooms make excellent nooks for conversation and meetings. While here, I had a lavender latte. A latte I have craved everyday since.

Powell's - Our hostess warned us about taking in more money than we were willing to part with upon entering the enormous bookstore. Fortunately for our wallets, coffee was first on the agenda. I unwittingly said "for here" and received a mug that was ill-equipped to meander through the stacks with me. We will have to return so that I can get lost.

Killer Burger - This alcove of a restaurant was the prefect treat after the hockey game. With bacon and fries served with every burger, the only real question was which masterpiece to devour. I think I forgot to chew as I inhaled that huge and amazing burger. AND, since we were there at closing, they gave us about a pound of leftover bacon! For the win!