The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

The Good

This past weekend brought James and I more visitors from Missouri. My parents joined us for the weekend and it is hard to find words to express our appreciation. God's provision continues to bless our lives. To quote James, "Can your parents stay with us and take care of us....?"

I was delighted that my mom and dad showed up on a night when James was on call. This allowed me to have company on what would usually be a very quiet evening alone. They were able to lay eyes on their ever pregnant daughter and assess my new look. My dad quickly pulled out his phone and sent pictures to my brothers of my very round belly.

30 weeks pregnant....10 more to go!

My mom wasted no time to tell her grandson, "hello." It was very evident that they are quite excited to meet this little boy. We went out for a nice dinner and caught up on our weeks and the happenings of our family. My mom turned in early and my dad and I stayed up late discussing politics, the meaning of life and the heart of God. We also might have watched an episode or two of Bones.


The following day, James was stuck at the hospital until the early afternoon (He's supposed to be out by 1:00 pm the day following a call shift). Again, it was so much fun to have company. I didn't have any big plans for their visit, I was just so thankful to have them with us. They were aware of our ant situation and wanted to make sure we were getting it under control.  Fortunately, the ants had begun to thin out. James and my initial plan was proving effective, just time consuming. While James napped after his call shift, my mom and dad and I went grocery shopping. Since college, grocery shopping with the parents is always a huge blessing. My dad was planning to make us supper. He was out looking for all the fixin's (to be exact, he was looking for "contemporary vegetables") and they wanted to help us stock up on those annoying things we so often need like toilet paper. We came home well stocked and in possession of the most modern greens one could find!

My dad made a delicious feast! Steak and grilled vegetables! We had been smelling our neighbors charcoal fires for a while, secretly jealous they had their grills out and running. This was the first grill of the season and it was delicious!

While out grocery shopping, my dad was searching for seasonal vegetables- something that looked fresh. He was unable to pull that word up so he decided the word contemporary would work just as well. I couldn't agree more! They were sure tasty!

The next day after getting to sleep in, we woke up to thunderstorms. This curtailed any plans for yard work I had in the back of my mind, so we hit the mall instead. My dad and James weren't up for a super shopping outing, so they caught a movie at the Art Cinema. My mom and I wasted no time hitting stores, looking at fun spring fashions, wide-width shoes, and adorable baby clothes. We finished our day off with a meal out. (So there wouldn't be any clean-up to tend to. My dad was more than ready for a second round of grilling. It's kind of his "thing.")

Sadly, James had to go back to work the next day. My parents and I had a relaxing morning. My mom helped me clean out the refrigerator and my dad researched conspiracy theories- filling my head with all sorts of new ideas. (Later that day I watched the movie Loose Change 9/11: An American Coup-  by Dylan Avery- scary stuff.) My parents eventually packed up and headed off to the airport.  It's always hard to see them go, but we know it won't be long before we see them, again. They're not going to be able to stay away in two months when this little man arrives.




The Bad


On a completely different front, I have noticed a new symptom of pregnancy: carpal tunnel syndrome. Yuck! It is significantly limiting my dexterity. Last night while eating supper, I dropped food on myself repeatedly. It was kind of ridiculous. There are things I can do to hopefully help my cause. Reducing sodium intake will help lessen the edema that is causing this pressure on my nerves. Also, swimming may alleviate some of the pain. I just need to find a good pool and a new bathing suit!





The Ugly


When speaking with my doctor earlier this week, I asked about another annoying symptom: cankles. These in fact have something to do with the carpal tunnel. The swelling. Again, watching sodium intake will help, but she said some woman experience it greater than others- 5-10% of her patients, as well as herself. This swelling has caused me to go from a medium width shoe to a wide. The good news is, the actual size has not increased! (At least not yet....) 

I'm stealing this from another pregnant friend: Pregnant women are SWELL!

Ants in My Pants...Literally

Houston, We have a problem! A VERY BIG PROBLEM or super tiny problem depending on how you look at it. We've got ants!!! Ugh! So gross!!

From busy bee to ant exterminator! This is definitely NOT my area of expertise. Nor do I ever want to claim such expertise. Not because I'm a snob, I LOVE a good exterminator, but because I'm a WIMP! I want as little interaction with these creepy crawlers as possible.

It all started with a Cheerio. James had poured himself a bowl of the tasty breakfast cereal one morning and unknowingly left one lone "O" on the kitchen floor in front of the refrigerator. By the time I was up and around the same morning, the "O" was NOT alone. It was covered in itty-bitty tiny ants. I was unsure what the best plan of attack would be. In the past, I would have picked up the Raid and sprayed it until every last one of those creepers was still. With Tiny Peppers (no, that's not his name) along for every ride, I thought better of this plan. I sprinkled it with Borax. It didn't really kill the ants, but I doused it in water and I then they died. James helped me clean it up. I was convinced that our battle was won!

A week later I had another encounter.  I had set an empty pizza box next to the kitchen trash can to be taken out later that afternoon. Two short hours later the box was crawling with more of those disgusting boogers. Sick. At this point my skin was starting to crawl. This time, I wasn't in the mood to be nice. I set the big guns on the problem: James to the rescue! He helped get control of the problem and delivered the fatal blow with a can of Raid. I stepped outside as not to inhale the fumes. It was also very nice to step away from the grizzly scene.

After this battle we were starting to wonder if indeed we had a problem. We hopped in the car and headed to Lowe's to find a better solution. We bought a few ant baits and set them out. The results were immediate.  The ants were marching towards their poison in droves. It was amazing the number that turned up!

Within days, we started to notice the results. Dead ants galore. Gross, but I was more than happy to sweep away the remains. I began to notice a stray ant here or there, especially in the downstairs bathroom and the laundry room. On a whim, I expanded my campaign. To my wonder and delight the kitchen was no longer a hot spot, the baits in the bathroom and laundry room were hopping! The little baits turned into ant night clubs and the parties were wild! These parties lasted for a few days. (I'm guessing the bar was eventually tapped out and their party hardy ways were beginning to take their toll.)

I was once again breathing a sigh of relief. I believed the battle was finally over. And then, the strangest thing started to happen. I began to notice rogue agents- all over- on the walls, the furniture, in the carpet... What the heck? Their lack of organization and unpredictability was really starting to"bug" me. My skin was crawling. I itched all over. I really thought it was all in my head, but to make sure, I pulled up the cuff of my pant. To my horror I found an actual ant in my pants! I'd reached my limit.

James was discussing this with a friend today. In their wisdom they have decided that the new erratic behavior of the ants could only mean one thing: Their queen is dead. They have no head calling the shots and it's every man (or ant) for themselves. Could this be the case? Are we close to seeing the end? I sure hope so.  I'm not sure I can take much more of these unwelcome house guests.

Battle worn and possibly a tad bit "dramatic."

One Busy Bee

I've been one busy bee this past weekend! I am so thankful to be able to say that. I have not had an excess of energy since becoming pregnant, but I have had an awareness of the many things I'd like to do before I become a full time mom.  While I feel limited to a certain extent due to the baby and the bump in which he lives, I have found a certain amount of clarity of thought that I've so longed for since moving to Indianapolis. This clarity comes in the form of vision for our house- vision to turn it into a home! And where vision still lacks, I am choosing to take risks! I've decided not be too scared of failing, but excited that I might stumble onto something great or at least an acceptable solution to hold us over until GREATNESS.

While James was on call this past Saturday, and I was desperately trying not to think about my recent visit to my doctor's office, I finally finished the slipcovers for our living room chairs. I had been debating about how to finish the skirts for months. I made several prototypes with trims, and pleats to boot. I consulted with my husband. (And just in the nick of time, he is not as fond of the pleats as I am...) We finally decided on a look we both liked, and I worked on how to practically make it happen. This is my finished product.

The project is finally completed. (Many, many months later...) I made matching pillow covers to coordinate until we find something a little more decorative and eye-catching. Notice the pretty table cloth in the background :)

I also decided to cover a few stools we had. I had re-covered them in the past to work in my bedroom, but we no longer keep them there and we find it is nice to have them close to the dinner table for extra seating for dinner guests.

This is how I used the extra pleats initially made for the chairs. I may still paint or stain the legs of the chairs and stools, but not until our baby is here. 

I used the same canvas I had used on the slipcovers. I may try to come up with a way to give these stools a little more character. They were previously covered in stripes and looked too busy with the other color and patterns we had going on in the living room. Until we figure out a definite, solid direction, the neutral look keeps our eyes from crossing and blood pressure from rising.

A close up of the pleats I love. James didn't mind them on the stools nearly as much as he did the chairs. 

We are still trying to find our married design footing. How do others make these decisions in their marriage? With their roommates? Are there any suggestions you can share?

In our first year of marriage we made a lot of compromises in hopes to reach a middle ground. We ended up with some strange solutions that neither of us liked, but settled for in an attempt to honor the other and avoid conflict.

This is our infamous "beverage station." A first of many weird compromises. We had decided on colors for our first apartment due to things we already owned, the wall color already on the walls, and a lack of communication. This lovely unit served a very functional purpose. It housed all of the lovely wine glasses we received as wedding gifts. (James registered for over 100! And no, he is not a drunk and I am not a lush, he just got carried away, he must have been planning on entertaining many, many guests at once.) We still own this. It looks like a weird refrigerator in our dining room. We are moving away from these colors as neither of us love them. We will need to find a solution for all of our wine glasses when we finally get rid of our first collaboration. We both look at it and chuckle. It serves as a good reminder of the benefits of communication and the risks of trying too hard to please the other person.

We have since learned to communicate a little better. We're still working on the idea of compromise. We have decided that it isn't crucial for both of us to LOVE every decorating decision that is made.  This weekend I bought a table cloth with flowers on it! James doesn't LOVE it, but he thinks the colors work well and he knows that table cloths are not a permanent fixture. He is gladly encouraging my new found desire to take risks when it comes to life and our home. He trusts my judgment likely more than I trust myself. This is an area in which I will continue to grow as keep taking risks and learn not to fear failure.

An update on my recent personal FAILBLOG:

Last Friday I went back to the doctor's office for the three hour glucose tolerance testing. I was instructed to fast for 12 hours prior to the lab work. (Easier said than done when you're pregnant!) To my great delight the phlebotomist working that day was wonderful! She took a fasting blood sugar upon my arrival and then gave me glucola to drink. (This drink contained 100mg of glucose and tasted like super sweet orange soda.) I then spent the next three hours reading, texting, trying to distract myself while I waited for them to take blood every hour on the hour.

They called with the results today. I passed! I do not have gestational diabetes!! I am so very thankful! While this is definitely the news I wanted to hear, had I heard otherwise, I know I would have been okay. After sharing my concern and frustration last week, I received so much support and encouragement from sweet friends that had been through the same thing. Thank you so much! I was overwhelmed by your kindness and support. It turned a scary situation into something much more manageable. Again, perfect provision in my need.

I'm thankful!

Our Personal FAILBLOG

Life is full of opportunities for great success and opportunities for great failure. To truly live life, one must take risks and know that failure is a very real possibility. Daily life is packed full of small victories and rather frustrating defeats. I like the small victories. (Who doesn't?) They tend to build and lead to a fantastic day. The key is not letting the moments of defeat define your day, or week, or yourself. I find this a very slippery slope.

I recently shared on Facebook a rather comical exchange between James and me. I will recount it again, but in more detail.

On Sunday night James was up preparing for a presentation he was to give Monday morning. He was hunkered down at his computer reading journal articles and forming a solid explanation for the care of one of the patients on his service. It was particularly exciting for him because he was able to discuss an adult patient from a Med/Peds perspective. The patient was born with a congenital heart defect and had an early operation to correct the defect. This operation has saved the patient's life, but over time has caused complications that her adult doctors need to manage. Pediatricians are generally well versed in matters of congenital heart issues, but until recently adult internists had not been confronted with the care and management of these patients. In all honesty, the patients never lived into adulthood. So, picture James on an academic high as he waxes on and on about this rare case. He was so excited to have this unique opportunity.

Enter Ashley. I had been giving him a good deal of space to work. I confess I struggle to not bother him from time to time when he needs to focus. But as far as I'm concerned, I was doing a great job! I only interrupted occasionally for a hug or a kiss. I was even listening to him present as he worked on slides. Very supportive.

I think at some point I decided I wanted his attention. I ran upstairs to try on one of the maternity dresses my mother had sent me in the mail. It was long and lean and black and kind of nipped in under the bust around where my waist used to be making me feel thinner.  I thought I looked foxy! I was ready to get his attention and be admired!!

I appeared downstairs modeling this dress anxiously awaiting his praise. He doesn't say anything and thinking he must be really engrossed in his presentation, I prance a little closer and ask, "What do you think?"

He proceeds to say, "You look like a silo."

"A what?" I say.

"You know, a silo." He's gesturing with his hands up and down, forming a big tube.

"A silo? Like a grain silo?"

"Yeah."

I rush to my computer to do a google image search of "silo." I think: show him the pictures, confirm this, maybe he doesn't really know what a silo is... He says, "Yeah."

I couldn't believe my ears! I immediately started laughing. I'm not sure there is any other way to respond. He did take the time to point out the long, tall, column-like silos, not the short stout ones.

Not this kind....

But this kind...  :)

Later, on Monday evening, he was on his cell phone looking at one of the pregnancy applications. (We like to keep track of our little boys growth and development and the iPhone has so many cool Apps for that!) This is what he stumbled upon.

Great Advice!

Suffice it to say: EPIC HUSBAND FAIL.

He wasn't thrilled that I shared it on Facebook. (I'm sorry James.) I felt bad that I might have embarrassed him. I wasn't trying to make him look bad, it was just THAT funny to me.

I would like to clarify that it was probably so funny to me because it is so far from his norm. He is my biggest admirer and always lets me know how pretty he thinks I am. He has been such a sweet support as my belly continues to grow, constantly reminding me that I am not fat, but that I am pregnant.


I had my own FAIL this week. Unfortunately it's not something I'm laughing about.

I saw the doctor for my 28 week appointment. All is well with Baby Peppers. He was his typical active little self. His activity made it nearly impossible for the nurse to dopple his heart rate. He just wouldn't stay still! She eventually had to pin him down in order to get a consistent reading. He didn't take that without protest. While she gently boxed him in place his little legs were doing their darnedest to kick her hands away. I really wonder what his little personality is going to be like. James and I are already characterizing him as a wild, strong-willed little baby. We love it!

On top of the regular doctor's appointment, this is typically when they screen for Gestational Diabetes. I did a one hour glucose tolerance test. They give you a drink that contains a measured amount of glucose and then take your blood an hour later to see your body's response to the glucose- how quickly it's cleared.  They also draw a vial to check for anemia and another to check for syphilis (state law.)

The doctor said that she would not be in touch with me unless there was something wrong, so when her office called the next day, my heart sank. I had thought maybe I might be anemic. I have been having a hard time taking my prenatal vitamins without getting sick to my stomach. But, no, it was a call about my blood sugar.

I FAILED. Ugh! I only failed by 4 mg/dL. My results were 139 mg/dL, but their cut off is 135 mg/dL.  Just enough to warrant the 3 hour glucose tolerance test. I am so not looking forward to this- lots of needle sticks and worry.

However, I have decided not to worry. We'll see how that goes. I have read many friends accounts of failing their first only to pass the second. If I do have Gestational Diabetes, there are many very practical ways to manage it. This is not the end of the world.

On a happy note: I'm not anemic! I'm so glad I don't have to take iron supplements! This is one of those small victories! I will rejoice!

Wishing you many victories and grace in defeat!

A Year Ago Today...

It hardly seems like it's been a year since we moved into our first house. And an entire year later, I think James and I have finally decided on a paint color for the living room! Now, all we have to do is get it on the walls. Easier said than done, especially in our current state. It will happen, though.

Excited to be brand new homeowners!

Our carefully packed boxes.

Right after we signed the papers. Very happy!

Our celebratory meal. We found we had moved close to a Chick-fil-A. Could we be any luckier?

Making the place our own with our fridge magnets.

Yard work! The responsibilities begin!!

A Little Help- Perfect Provision

I have a confession to make. I share this believing that I am not alone. On the contrary, it is my belief that many can probably relate, all too well.

In the midst of this time of great blessing James and I find ourselves feeling very overwhelmed. So overwhelmed, in fact, that we have been struggling. The word James used to describe this sensation was "drowning." I have many words I use to attempt to convey my frustration, but tears generally muffle the words.

Picture an overworked, exhausted husband whose number one desire, above anything else, is sleep. He's a mere 28 years old but often says he feels like he's middle aged. He works 80+ hours a week. On top of his daily work responsibilities he feels the weight of his job pushing him to read the most up to date medical journal articles so he can practice the most current evidence based medicine. He also has a test date that looms in the near future. The all important Step 3 Licensure Examination. He knows it will be critical to brush up on all subject matter that will be covered so he can perform as well as he has on Step 1 and Step 2. This busy man isn't alone. He is married to an increasingly pregnant woman. Day by day she meets new limitations as her body restricts her from doing things she once did with ease. This man loves his wife and he longs to contribute to their home. He is just spent. Raw and, at times, on edge. She is, too. While he gets his precious sleep (4-5 hours a night) she tosses and turns as the busy baby kicks, her tired husband snores, and her body aches. She hopes she, too, will get 4-5 hours of sleep sometime that day.  These two are a scary combination. Both physically and emotionally exhausted and in the middle of a trial. In need of great grace.

That's a glimpse into our current home life. It's tough. We are so blessed with so many gifts, and yet, we are often reaching the limit of our personal strength. The demands of our daily lives are growing. We wonder if we can stretch to meet them.

I am reminded of Paul in 2 Corinthians 12. I am reminded that in my weakness, Christ's strength is made perfect. In James' weakness, Christ's strength is perfected. God's grace is sufficient. Could we ask for a better more powerful strength to hold us together? Even at my best, my perfect strength pales in comparison to the perfect power of our God. WOW! What a sweet, sweet gift!

That is our prayer- that God will be powerful in our weakness. That we will allow Him to work in our lives. I think James and I believe that our God is more than capable of taking all of our trials and struggles from us and yet, we both know He allows them to shape us. These trials, however big or small, have the power to form us into the people He desires us to be; the doctor, the nurse, the spouse, the child, the sibling, the friend, the neighbor, the parent we are called to be.

These trials also offer us a unique opportunity to display humility. We confess our weakness and call out to God for His help. His provision, just like His power, is perfect. We are amazed at how he provides and blessed beyond words.

Enter our family.

James and I are both blessed with loving parents, caring brothers, and an amazing sister-in-law. Their encouragement and support have been priceless. It means so much to pick up the phone and hear their kind voices, to know they are excited about our lives and believe in us, even if we don't always believe in ourselves. Recently their support has extended beyond the phone.

This last weekend James' parents, James, Sr. and Cheryl, visited us in Indianapolis. Their visit was just what we needed. We finally got the Christmas tree taken down and put into storage. Our carpets were cleaned, drapes hung. Our home experienced a bit of a face-lift. All the while, I sat watching (they didn't want me to have to lift a finger) and James slept (he had just gotten off a 30 hour shift.) We were humbled and blessed by their love and service. Again, a bright grin stretches across James' face as he pulls the curtains open and lets the sunshine in.

Two days later I received a package in the mail. My mom has graciously donated a few of her long flowing skirts to my cause. They will stretch and will never be the same, thus they have been sacrificed to the ever growing bump. The package didn't only contain the two skirts but gobs of other options to fit my changing shape. A grin stretched across my face as I pulled on clothes that made me feel pretty and comfortable, again.

My mom and dad will be visiting next month. James' parents will likely return to help with the nursery. I've had so many cousins offer to share their hand-me-downs and baby gear with baby Peppers.

While I believe God could have sent us a package directly from Heaven with all the things we needed, His ways are different, perfect. He uses the body of Christ. He uses our family and friends to demonstrate His love for us. And the really cool thing is it causes us to feel closer to our family.  It offers a specific way for them to minister to us and show us love. It also makes us sensitive to others who may, too, find themselves in need.

We are so blessed by our family. We are blessed by our God. We will continue to embrace our struggles and eagerly await God's perfect provision! Maybe we will even be part of others' provision!

My Husband, The Hero!

I've decided to share a story with our family and friends because it's likely James won't. If you read the title of the post and threw up a little in your mouth, I apologize... kinda. I don't want to be one of those people who is unbearable to listen to because they seem to brag all the time, and yet, I want to share the amazing things God does in our lives. Because God is so good to us!

Before I begin the story, I'd like to mention a conversation I had recently with a friend who is also expecting a baby boy late this spring. We were discussing what it meant to raise a boy into a man, how that might look, and how we as women might foster an environment to nurture our sons' unique dreams and spirits. She had heard a radio show where a woman spoke of this very topic. She said her grade-school age son was very interested in super heroes. She decided she would start asking her son, "What are you going to do to be a hero, today?" The woman shared that this had provided many opportunities for her and her son to demonstrate love and care for those in need. After hearing this, I thought I could see myself and a little boy in a cape running to those in need of rescue, or at least finding ways to share love and offer help... This reminded me of something I had seen...What was it....?

This is the only picture I could find, but I'm nearly certain this is not the only proof that exists. James is holding his baby brother, David, and while that is sweet, that's not why I chose this image. Notice the diaper pin securing a blanket cape around James' neck....? I hear reports that James often wore a cape and played a super hero... Not surprising!

My husband! He's been playing a super hero for years! He has since lost the cape, but he is no less impressive, if I do say so myself. I'm so excited my son will have such a wonderful concrete example of a hero in his life. This brings me to my story...

The other day when James arrived home after being on call overnight for a 30 hour shift, he was bouncing off the walls. This is highly unusual. He is usually stumbling over his own feet and needs assistance to carry him upstairs and into bed. (I use the word assistance liberally. I generally am only capable of providing my hubby with lots of verbal encouragement and support to conquer the stairs. If he looked to me for physical assistance, we'd both end up in a heap at the bottom of the steps...) Anyway, we was very excited!

Our normal post-call procedure is to greet each other at the door. He then proceeds to the dining room table where I feed him a small snack before he heads upstairs for an afternoon nap. While he eats his snack, he shares a few of the highlights from his evening at the hospital. Depending on how the shift played out, this can be a time for James to vent, or a time to tell colorful tales of the characters he's encountered, sometimes it's even a time to share sadness and grief. It's not uncommon for me to feel the weight of James responsibilities during this brief tête-à-tête. James is rarely very animated as he recounts his last 30 hours.


[Please keep in mind that while I tell the story, I may not be 100% accurate on hospital happenings, but this is my understanding as the spouse of a resident. It is greatly simplified and hopefully clear enough to make sense.]

While a resident is on call overnight they have many responsibilities. These vary depending on what sort of service they are currently assigned to for the given 4-week rotation. However, there is one constant responsibility ALL on call residents share. They must respond to codes. A code is called when life-saving measures are required urgently and many health care providers rush to the sick patient's room to provide intervention.  These are a common event in a hospital caring for very sick patients.

The other night, while on call, James responded to a code. It just so happens that earlier that day he had sat in on a refresher course on ACLS (Advanced Cardiac Life Support.) They went over using specific technology and reviewed algorithms for treating specific situations. While en route to the room where the code was taking place, he ran into an intern level resident. James took the opportunity to talk with her and asked, "What's the most important thing you want to know in a code?" She thought on it but wasn't certain. James responded, "You want to know the rhythm." He explained to me later that knowing the heart's rhythm is the first step in using an algorithm. Without that basic knowledge, it's tough to know how to proceed.

Upon arriving in the room, he asked that very question. Those previously present, running the code, did not know the answer. They were proceeding with ACLS, but without that knowledge it must have been tough to know what to do.  The patient wasn't hooked up to leads or a monitor so there was no reading on the rhythm. Fortunately, James had just had the refresher course and knew how to use the equipment they had available to them. He was able to share the knowledge with others and they were able to accurately access the situation and provide the specific intervention needed to return a pulse to the patient, effectively saving his life.

James is quick to share that this is just what is expected of him, and that it was fortunate that he had just been refreshed on such things. And I know it is, but I am still so proud of him. He would also share that while they were able to intervene, such measures are extreme and it's really hard to know how well a patient would fair after receiving such aggressive treatment.

When he shared his story with me his arms were flying about with large gestures and his voice would rise and fall with excitement. I love these moments. They make the stressful hours and demands of residency seem worth the sacrifice.

It wasn't seconds after he finished his story that he nearly passed out in his bowl of soup. It must have taken all the spare energy he had to give such a spirited rendition of the night's events. I had to provide my usual "assistance" to get him up into bed for his nap.

I'm thankful for his triumphs in medicine. I'm thankful to hear when James is able to discharge a patient from the hospital, or when one of his regular clinic patients decides to stop smoking or has successfully lost weight. I live for those stories. It makes the sickness, the sadness, and the death that so often accompany a career in medicine a little more bearable. 

I'm proud of my husband, the hero!