I have always assumed I don’t have a very high pain tolerance, so I would obviously go for whatever pain killers were available, even if I had to endure the icky business of needles and being hooked up to machines.

When my husband and I got pregnant with our first we got as prepared as possible and I learned all I could about childbirth. I had the usual apprehension of facing this unknown, but my prenatal care was AMAZING and through talking with my midwife we settled on a birth center option with transfer to a hospital if wanted or needed. Needles really freak me out and since that was the only kind of pain I had history with, as opposed to pushing a baby out, I went with being in an environment where basically my only option was to do it naturally. It sounds weird, but when it came down to it, the idea of sitting in a room where there were all kinds of opportunities to be poked and hooked up gave me more anxiety then just trying to see if I could get through labor without all that stuff staring at me.

Our little man opted for an even more non-medical setting and decided to be born at home, on our bed, after BOTH my husband and I pushed for five hours (yes, I said five). Childbirth really wore Darin out.

Anyways, my point is, my first childbirth experience was totally not what I was expecting and for someone who has always believed she has a super low pain tolerance (based on my phobia of needles and any kind of medical procedure…really, I am a bit embarrassing to be around when my blood is being drawn) I figured it would be the same for giving birth. I was the most surprised out of anyone that I actually pushed a whole other human being out of my body without any kind of pain killers. (Sarah did what?!)

Skip to about seven months later and I’m staring at another set of pink lines. I immediately call my midwife and start preparing, from the beginning, another home birth. Our little girl was born in a birthing tub in our living room (this time the pushing phase dragged on and on for a whole….. 39 minutes!).

So here I was, standing on this side of two non-medicated home births. Some more time goes by and even though I am so grateful for these two baffling experiences, since they fly in the face of my previous pain tolerance assumptions, I don’t really know what to do with them. Every time I think about the births of my children and look at pictures or video I am still in awe of both events. One thing that sticks out though is the wonderfully supportive team who surrounded Darin and I as we welcomed each of our little people into the world. Their encouragement and grace, the strong sense of their “abiding with” me through each contraction, their confidence and gentleness… I think contributed a HUGE part in how my birth experiences played out.

One day I’m doing my usual caring for these two little people and not feeling very useful otherwise. I start asking God what I could do to make more of a contribution to the world in this season of life besides raising these cute kids. I start thinking about how they came into the world and the people who helped me through that process and the Lord revealed to me that perhaps I could pursue being the same kind of blessing. I believe it was God who orchestrated the births of my children and put just the right people in my path and even delayed our getting over to the birth center in time so we could discover that being at home really was the best place for me to give birth.

I immediately think…that’s crazy! I can’t be in the room when another person is dealing with, most likely, the most intense pain they’ve ever felt. I remember even telling that to my doula when she came to check on me two days after my son was born. “How can you handle being with someone going through that much pain?” She had this euphoric expression on her face and basically said being a doula is as much of a blessing to her as she hopes she is to laboring women.

The thought still nags me after a few weeks, so I ask a friend who became a doula after having her first child if I could come along to a birth she is planning on attending a month or so away… just to get a better idea of what all being a doula involves. I get the text late at night and join my friend and her gracious clients at a local hospital and, despite my assumptions on what I think I can handle concerning blood and sutures and trying to sooth someone who looks to be in intense anguish, I find myself holding her leg up while watching in wonder as her son is being born and not at all feeling like I was going to freak out or faint. It. Was. Amazing.

After that experience I signed up for my doula training and completed it this last March. I’m currently in the process of being certified. It’s not necessary to be certified to be a doula. I’ve just decided it’s something I would like to work towards. Since my class finished I have attended the home birth of a dear friend and am “on call” to attend two more births this summer. I’m still kinda in shock that I’m doing this but I was also shocked that I got through my own births. This was not a road I had previously saw myself on at all, but now it seems… well, natural.

The reason I have pursued doula-ing is not because I want to push other women into having non-medicated home births like me. I cherish the memories of the births of my children and that’s the goal of a doula, “to help protect a woman’s memory of the birth of her child” …no matter what the expectant mom wants for her birth (even if her ideal is different from what I would do), that’s what her doula will encourage her towards. Other women are totally comfortable in a hospital setting and ok if they get to a point where they want intervention. A doula is simply there to encourage a laboring woman in whatever goals and hopes that woman has for her birth.

I feel I truly got that experience with the births of my children. My labor support team (midwife and assistant, doula, and husband) all understood my hopes and fears, my goals, and my wishes and we all held on to those together to create two of my most cherished memories.

So here’s the plug. Having a doula was such a blessing to me and my husband. I thank God for having our paths cross so I could be a recipient of her excellent care and encouragement during my labors. Now that I’ve been in her shoes a few times I see what a blessing it is to bless others this way. I would love to be a blessing to other women who are seeking the kind of care a doula can provide. I’m not looking for this pursuit to become a full time job as I do have a primary job of raising my still very small children but if the timing works out I would be happy to offer my services to others in Seattle welcoming in new life.

It’s going to be especially difficult for this little guy.

Jerome and his Daddy are best buds and when much time has past without some good wrestling, tickling, getting dirty, fighting off bad guys time it’s really hard on Jerome’s  little heart. I don’t think he thinks through the whole process quite yet but he tends to act up more, be more testy with authority, and often just downright destructive when he’s missing some serious man time in his daily routine. I am praying that through this years busy season and while we’re missing Darin from much of daily life in the Brill home that our little guy will begin to filter his feelings in more constructive ways. Sometimes I don’t even think he realizes why he’s been acting like a little terror all day. I pray as he is tempted to react to his feelings of sadness, frustration, or hurt the Lord will give me the discernment to recognize it and give him validating yet positive ways of expressing those emotions. I’ll miss his Daddy too. We’ll often feel the same things with regard to having Darin gone a lot. The only difference is through basic maturity I have found more tested and approved ways of working through those emotions….but not always. Sometimes I would like just sit down and have a fit as well at having to miss Christmas parties and watch several hours pass after it’s gotten dark and still not having Darin home yet.

The more I get to know Jerome I see he leans in the direction of “time spent” as the way he feels love from others. Naturally the combination of that mixed with a dad who needs to be away from home a lot is not good for any child’s heart. I pray that even if the time spent between my two guys isn’t as much as usual this next month that Jerome will still feel deeply and unconditionally loved by his Daddy. Nothing with regard to how much Jerome is cherished by either of us has or ever will change. I pray Darin and I will both find ways to make this time somehow special for Jerome.

I pray each moment we do have as a whole family we will use them to build each other up and multiply our joy even as we trudge through this particularly difficult time.

“I am sure that, in my early youth, no teaching ever made such an impression upon my mind as the instruc­tion of my mother; neither can I conceive that, to any child, there can be one who will have such influence over the young heart as the mother who has so tenderly cared for her offspring. A man with a soul so dead as not to be moved by the sacred name of “mother” is creation’s blot. Never could it be possible for any man to estimate what he owes to a godly mother. Certainly I have not the powers of speech with which to set forth my valuation of the choice blessing which the Lord bestowed on me in making me the son of one who prayed for me, and prayed with me. How can I ever forget her tearful eye when she warned me to escape from the wrath to come? I thought her lips right eloquent; others might not think so, but they certainly were eloquent to me. How can I ever forget when she bowed her knee, and with her arms about my neck, prayed, “Oh, that my son might live before Thee!” Nor can her frown be effaced from my memory—that solemn, loving frown, when she rebuked my budding iniquities; and her smiles have never faded from my recollections— the beaming of her countenance when she rejoiced to see some good thing in me towards the Lord God of Israel.” –Charles Spurgeon  The Early Years 1834-1860 Volume 1

Besides Darin these are the two people I pray for the most.

In fact, I know I pray for them more than I pray for my own husband (something I’m continually working on), perhaps because I interact and have many reasons and reminders throughout my day to bend a knee on their behalf…and on my behalf for their sake.

They are our legacy and a picture, in many ways, of fruit of Jesus’ work in Darin and I. They are a blessing and raising them is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

I praise Jesus we don’t have to rely on our own strength and wisdom in guiding them into adulthood and I know the times I have despaired and thought, “it’s all on me to make sure you both turn out ok”….those have been the moments where discipline and/or grace have stumbled and bit it in a big chaotic mess.

I know my prayers are heard. I know He sees my heart when I cry out for them to be caught up in His Irresistable Grace at a young age and for them to follow His leading all the days of their lives and that all the days of their lives would be MANY and filled with good works and fruit as they build on our legacy and JOY…lots of joy.

 It is very difficult to pray for their faithfulness through any trials they may face because I fear for those trials. I know they will have at least some but I’m still working through the selfish part of me that wants to keep them untouched by pain and fear. I just want them to grow and flourish without the pruning. That is not the life God calls His children to. I think if I pray for their faithfulness through trial I have somehow prayed for trials to come to them. (It’s kinda like not making out a will because you fear you will die soon after).

I pray for their salvation. I praise Him when I see fruit. I pray that my being their mother is more of a blessing rather than a hindrance to their knowing and loving Jesus. I pray for my willingness to hold them in an open hand and trust the Lord to lead them throughout a life He has deemed filled with the most purpose for them and His kingdom. He knows they are precious to me and what I find the most comfort in is that He loves and cherishes them infinitely more than I ever could.

Darin and I have a passion to live out the gospel in very real ways including through the act of adoption. At this point we are leaning toward working through the local foster care program but we are also open to any children the Lord has chosen for us to parent through other avenues people have been able to adopt.

Even though it will be years before we are ready to take that step we still feel a burden to read and pray and prepare as much as possible about decisions regarding adopting someday. I love to hear the progress friends are making as they pursue adoption or as they become adoptive or foster parents. I also benefit greatly from hearing the reality of what life is like as they welcome a child into their home. We definitely don’t want to look at the process through rose colored glasses but with the focus and passion and promise of Christ.

I want to post (quickly before my little ones wake up from their naps) some links of families living out what the Lord has called them to do. There are many relationships that can represent aspects of our relationship to God, adoption is a very powerful one.

This is in no way an exhaustive list, just a few that come to mind right now. If you know of others please pass them along. If you have a moment check some of them out. Lets celebrate these families and the great work the Lord is doing through them!

www.onethankfulmom.com

www.fromhivtohome.org

www.urbanservant.blogspot.com

www.noelpiper.com

www.cliffmackenzie.blogspot.com

We’re not quite ready for a Sienna but at our rate we’ll be in one (or something similiar) in no time.

Who knew Seattle has the protection of the Power Rangers? I feel safer now….don’t you, Jerome?

My greatest desire for my children is for them to know and love Christ, to enjoy Him fully, and live out passions He has given them for His glory. The future I hope for cannot be pursued in a selfish, self-gratifying parenting style. I don’t think any parent who cares about how they are going to parent spells out their “style” in a way that purposely favors their own whims and fancies…but often that is kind of how it’s played out. My job isn’t to make them happy, their job isn’t to make me happy and feeling good about being a mom. My job is to Glorify God in teaching them how to Glorify God. The life I desire for them must be modeled in how I lay myself down for them. I’m grateful that I’m not starting from scratch in that pursuit but rather I get to look to Jesus who did it perfectly.

These first few years of being a mother has included much grasping and fussing on my part as the Lord gently but firmly unthreads any sense of entitlement from my heart. The work is’t at all close to finished, not by a long shot. but I am catching on, some days better than others, that what the Lord has for me, indeed for all who He has called to follow Him, is to gradually replace that frustration (read for me: fifth toddler tantrum before lunch, laundry never finished, canceled coffee/playdate due to a sick child, constant battle with envy of those who are able to do anything on a whim, most reading material having approximately six words a page) with gratitude even if it’s just a small glimmer at first. Yes, it’s been way too long since I’ve been able to take a shower and of course the baby startes crying like she hasn’t eaten for days as soon as I get my hands full of raw meat. I know in these moments I start to feel justified in my “what about what I need right now?!” thoughts. What’s really happening is that my children’s sense of entitlement is spouting out from their self-centered developmental stage (don’t get me wrong, they’re still sinners) and it’s butting up against my fully formed knowing that I’m just being plain selfish and really unChrist-like toward them. How do I teach them to look beyond themselves? I’m hoping, in mostly a million small ways throughout their growing up years, that if I model not just the outward successful action of laying aside my immediate wants and desires but also the struggle to get to that outcome they will feel more loved by seeing their mom fighting to live as the new creation the Lord has claimed her to be.

Witnessing my toddler’s melt down over not being allowed to throw my toothbrush into the toilet has shown me a depth to God’s grace and mercy toward me that I truly feel I would never have known otherwise. I know, in a figurative sense, I have kicked and screamed over something just as silly and God has gently said no, that would not be best. What’s best for my son is to practice self control and learn that sometimes something that would be fun, relaxing, even a satisfying way to vent anger might actually be a detriment or at least a reasonable annoyance to someone else and to step back from feeling entitled to carry out any of those motives, help him examine his heart. I see myself in my son all the time as he is learning these things. Obviously the circumstances and desires are different but the motives of the heart are the same. My hope is that while the Lord chips away at all the ways I feel entitled some kind of chiseled shape of gratefulness will emerge.

This silence from the last post to this one has been filled with much life lived together as well as the addition of more life. This silence in written word has in no way been a reflection of the volume experienced here in the Brill home. Hopefully subsequent posts will gradually be a filling in on what we all have been doing. Some will be obvious (hello Vivian!) and others not so much. I have decided it’s ok if I don’t include pictures on a regular basis or I don’t have words that are slightly a different color in the middle of my sentences so you can easily go to some link I am talking about. I’m sure through time those kinds of things will be more the norm. Anyways, just thought I would try to give this another go and not worry about how uncool this blog is. I will just have to start in that state and hopefully work my way up.