marriage.

Tomorrow marks three years since I put on a pretty white dress, picked up a bouquet of red roses, and walked down the aisle to marry the man who had become my best friend.

Three years has seen us go through so, so much--more than I could have ever imagined. 

There have been moments where I wondered if we'd ever make it, 

moments that I wanted to scream, "This is not what I signed up for!", 

and moments where I was convinced that there was no way on earth I could ever feel happier.

I could write a million sappy words, but they would never cover it.

So, here are pictures of our moments instead.

Engaged in Paris

August 6, 2007

 The Beginning

May 31, 2008

 Honeymoon in Cancun

2008

Our first apartment!

June 2008

Late nights spent studying.

2008

Fall 2009

Graduation!

December 2009

Two year anniversary

(Evanston, Illinois)

May 31, 2010

Summer 2010

 Uptown Ribfest

August 2010
 

The Glass House

September 2010

Last nights in Chicago

October 2010

We're having a baby!

October 2010

Moving to England

November 1, 2010

Today.

May 30, 2011
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Husband,
You are the best thing that's ever happened to me.
You push me to be better, and even though sometimes I feel like I might hate you for it, I'm glad you don't let me settle. The longer we're together, the better we fit each other, and there is no one else in the world I could imagine even attempting to live this life with.
I can't wait for this jump into being parents, and even though it scares me sometimes, I know that we're going to do it (and do it well) because we've already decided to be together forever.

Quite simply, I love you.
Your wife.

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a percolator.

My brain is stewing things around right now, but none of it is coherent enough to craft into sensible sentences.

So, for now, here's a picture of me and my giant 36-week-pregnant belly (can you tell that he's dropped? 'cause I can. Ha.):

Also, my "What To Expect When You're Expecting" app has just informed me that my baby is the size of a watermelon.

Whoa.

It's no wonder I have to lift my stomach up when I roll over in bed at night.

Although I am the crankiest person on the planet right now, due to the ridiculous amount of uncomfortableness I am experiencing, God keeps whacking me on the head with the fact that all of this (including the heartburn, nausea, backache, grinding hips, sciatica, insomnia, exhaustion, pelvic ligaments that are too loose, and electric shocks that occur when Jameson stabs me with his heels) is a blessing and I need to treat it that way. 

I have a healthy baby growing inside of me, and I am just a few weeks away from meeting him.

I couldn't ask for anything more than that.

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things i don't understand.

I don't even know what words to use to begin to write anymore.

I don't know where to start, and I don't think I'll ever know where it ends.

There is so much, so much, and I just don't know how to sort through it all and make it come out the way I want it to.

I don't understand why God is the way He is, and why He lets some things happen, and stops other things dead in their tracks.

I don't understand His logic or His wisdom, and every time I think I have His character nailed down, I come across something else that changes it dramatically.

I don't understand His purposes, or His timing, or even His will. I'm not sure whether or not I believe that God has all of the minute details of my life laid out, or just exactly how much He's going to leave up to me to figure out. 

I don't know if moving to England was "God's will" for us, and I know even less about whether we should stay here long-term or look at moving on to somewhere else. 

I don't know whether God chose my husband for me, or if I made that decision, and then it became what God would have me do. I do know that God has molded us together over the past three years, and we have become "the One" for each other, but I'm not sure that I can say that my husband was the only one out there for me in the beginning.

I don't understand why God chose to bless us with a (so far) healthy baby boy that is growing in my belly who I get closer and closer to meeting every day, when He has somehow seen fit to take other growing babies away from women who would make far better mothers than I.

I don't understand why it is so easy for me to question God through the difficulties, and yet live a lukewarm life through the times where I am not desperate for answers. Why does my heart waver so much?

I am so thirsty. 

I long to know and be full to the brim with the knowledge and understanding of this God that loves me.

More than anything, I want to trust Him through everything.

I want to be a woman so full of faith that nothing can shake me.

I'm clearly not there yet.

And I don't think I'll ever completely understand.

But for now there is a child inside of me, a husband that shows me what sacrificial love looks like on a daily basis and a small enough seed of faith to push me through to the other side.

And that is enough.

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a list.

I've got too much swirling around in my head today to try and sort it out at length, so I'm just going to throw things out in a random list.
Maybe this will help.

*Three days after my burst of nesting energy, I am proud to say that Jameson's room is now painted, partly decorated, and he has a brand new moses basket to sleep in. Not only that, but the top of our dresser has been converted into a changing table, complete with baskets full of onesies and sleepers for when he poops all over himself in the middle of the night. Also, my hospital bag is pretty much packed and I even printed out our "birth plan", so if I go into labor tomorrow (not likely) we're prepared.
I'll post some pictures of the nursery as soon as we get the rest of the decor hung...It's so cute, and I can't believe how much I am in love with it.

*Went to an aqua class after being out of it for a week or so. (The bank holidays over here really throw a wrench in your daily schedule...all of my classes at the gym were canceled for two weeks and I just couldn't muster up the energy to go to the gym on my own. Except once.) It was a good class, and it felt good to work my muscles again, but at the same time I couldn't help but sit there and feel guilty for not doing more through this pregnancy. I know that I've done well, and I am proud of myself for not turning into the whale-monster that I was afraid of when I first got pregnant. It's just that nagging problem I have of tearing myself down and finding ways to turn myself into a failure.
Before I got pregnant, I had finally gotten to a place in my life where I was consistently in control of my body. My weight was where I wanted it to be, I finally felt like I looked good, and I actually began to believe that I was not at the mercy of my random DNA makeup. Going into pregnancy, I knew that my body was going to change, and I knew that it was important for me to do as much as I could to ensure that it changed in the right way. Although I've done that, and have stayed in the recommended weight gain, I still have these moments where I feel like I just should have done more. I'm sure there's a lesson from the Lord in here somewhere, about being patient and learning to value myself, but to be really honest, I just can't wait until Jameson is here and I am able to go back to being in control of my body, because it's on a mutiny right now and I don't have much choice except to wait it out.

*I miss America. A lot. And at the moment, this is not because I hate England (although I have my moments), this is simply because I miss my home. That, and really good cheeseburgers.

There is more, but my 8-month pregnant brain just can't handle rustling it up.

Please don't read this and think that I'm still consistently down.

I'm not. 

It's just tonight, and it's just these moments of fear and doubt.

In truth, God has been good to us, and we are in a much better place than we were a few months ago. Things are definitely not perfect, and we're still slogging through, but there needs to be an acknowledgement of blessing and provision, because He showed up.

Just like we hoped He would.

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nesting

First of all, let me apologize for the haphazard appearance of my blog right now.

I started the redesigning process, got frustrated with the template I was working in and haven't had the energy to wade through all of the HTML and other things since. However, it's driving me crazy to look at, so it will get done soon.

Secondly, I now fully understand what pregnant women mean when they talk about nesting.

Our American friends over here, Erica and Zac, just had their baby boy, Clive Weatherly, yesterday. He is a beautiful 8 lbs., 7 oz. and 21 inches long. Hubs and I were lucky enough to be able to visit them in the hospital and it was such a surreal experience. Ever since I got over here, Erica and I have been pregnant together, moaning about all of the aches and pains we were going through and speculating about what labor was really going to be like.

But now that she's had Clive (and she actually does know what labor is like), I'm the lone pregnant ranger. It seems that the reality that there is actually a real baby in my belly who will be making an appearance sometime in the next seven weeks has truly sunk in, and I am like a crazy woman on a mission.

I had a mini-panic attack last night, thinking about all of the things we have left to do before Jameson gets here, and the first thing I thought about this morning was "Lists. I've got to make lists."
So, suffice it to say that I have a "Nesting List" broken down into three categories with the things to-do underneath each heading.

(When I get stressed, my OCD tendencies start to really show themselves. Ha.)

I have this sudden burst of energy now, and my husband has actually said that he is afraid of me.

Let the fun begin.

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alive.

It's three p.m. on Easter Sunday, and I've spent the morning doing my best to reflect on the incredible meaning behind this holiday, as well as trying to feel the adequate amount of joy I should be feeling.
This day is arguably the most important to Christians around the world, and it should probably be the one in which we feel the most hope, and the incredible promise that comes out of it.

"In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!"
Luke 24:5-6a

In an effort to maintain my honesty, I will admit that I have been having a hard time rejoicing today. This is frustrating and guilt-inducing, especially since I can't quite pinpoint why. I should be able to put aside my physical and mental struggles for one day, in order to celebrate the most momentous day in history, right? 

I read through all four gospel accounts of the resurrection, truly trying to see the magnificence of it all. 

I put on the Christian music that I usually avoid, hoping that some sort of holiness would penetrate my brain.

I asked God to please give me something, because I don't want to mope around today.

But, nothing.

Until this.

(It's the cheesiest video ever, but the only one I could find on short notice. Please just listen to the song while you look at something else.)

This is my heart cry.

I need to be brought to life today. That's all I want. 

I need to be resurrected with Christ, instead of staying in the tomb waiting for someone to come and get me--because He already has. 

So once again, I will continue to wait and seek and cling on to that last thread of hope that I've got.

Because that's the promise for today. 

“For through the law I died to the law so that I might live for God. I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."

Galatians 2:19-20

I may feel dead, but Christ is alive, and that is all that matters.

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time.

I guess it's time.
I'm sitting here, in my living room on a thursday afternoon while the sky is blue and there is sun shining in through my windows, and I'm trying to realize that spring is coming and this is symbolic in more ways than one.

Since I've always been honest on here, I guess there is no reason why that should stop being the case now.

We've been living in this country for just over five months now. 

We arrived with eight suitcases on a freezing and rainy November 1, and since then, life has consisted of working through each new day that has been thrown at us.
When we first arrived, we were empty of things, but full of hope. We had literally stripped ourselves of our possessions and brought with us what we could carry, along with the baby growing in my belly and the belief that this was going to be the place for us.
We were finally going to put roots down, settle in, and make a life for ourselves. We had the promise of a job with a good-looking outcome for Hubs, the knowledge that I could work anywhere I found myself, and the belief that soon we would be able to start "moving up" in the world.
No more cockroach infested apartments, or budgeting until we were blue in the face.

Reality check.

The job was not what it first appeared to be, and although we held onto it's promise for so long, it has recently become clear that there is no way it is going to work.
I lost all but one of my clients, not due to anything I had done, but simply because business models are changing and I didn't fit in anymore. Not only that, but I am now in my third trimester, and finding clients only to tell them that I will be taking six months of maternity leave after the baby is born, is not really ideal.
This country is expensive, with hidden fees and other things lurking around different corners, and somehow we did not find out about it all until we got here.
This is a different place, one that I don't really fit into all that well. I'm so much more 'American' than I thought I was, and although I have found friends, I am struggling to be myself and have that be okay. I find myself holding back, and taming myself down in order to fit into the landscape, and although this is okay, it means that no one really knows who I am and likes me for it.

I have been angry at God for a long time. 

I felt like He had clearly led us to this place, obviously opened doors and allowed us to walk through them.

My spousal visa came through in three weeks, which is nearly unheard of. 

We had the promise of this job, and security, and the opportunity to make a life somewhere we thought we wanted to be.

We got pregnant with our baby at exactly the right time so that all of the tiny little dreams I had worked out.

This was supposed to be it for us.

I felt like God gave us the promise of these dreams, and for all intents and purposes, it looked like they were going to be fulfilled.
Now, five months later, this is not the case.
And to be honest, I've hesitated to share with anyone about it, simply because I didn't want to put up with the pitiful looks, and the nice "Christiany" sentiments comparing us to Job or listening to "Footprints in the Sand" being quoted at me.
I'm not trying to be sarcastic or offensive, these things are comforting in the right time and place, it's simply that this situation can't be fixed with a nice, neat answer.

In fact, all I've got right now is this:

"So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." [Matt. 6:31-34]

I've read this passage at least fifty times.
But look at it. Really look at it.
What's the promise?

God knows what I need. 

If I seek after Him, He will provide for my needs. 

Today.

And that's all we're given. No promise for tomorrow.

In fact, I'm told to not even look at tomorrow, because I've got to focus on getting through today.

The past five months have been about God whittling away this entitled part of me, and putting it to death. It means that He is taking all of my desires, be they selfish or not, and simply giving me one day at a time to live through. He is meeting my most basic needs, and He is forcing me to accept the fact that this is all I am allowed to expect from Him.

I hate this.
I don't understand the ultimate reason or purpose that God allowed us to come here and find ourselves in this situation.
I can't pretend to be happy and joyful, when inside there is still (it's much smaller, but it's there) a part of me that screams, "Why can't I have this? What is so wrong with wanting this or needing this that You won't just let me have it?"

However, there is a light at the end of it all, and even though it's small, it's there.
My husband and I have never been so happy or strong in our marriage. Life is becoming pure, in that we have so little, that we are truly learning to indulge in such small moments.
My son, my son, is growing and is healthy inside of me, and I get to meet him in such a short amount of time and finally hold the baby that I ached over for so long.
I so appreciate the incredible people that God has allowed me to find. The close friendships that I have are truly unique, because I have yet to find one like them in another country, and I now realize just how amazing the people are who love me despite knowing me completely.
We are still surviving, and still making it through each day, incredibly.
Although some days I wake up, and it feels like there is no way that we're going to make it, we always do. And one day at a time, we're continuing to get through this.
I don't know how we are, but we are.

And so that's it.
I've avoided coming here for so long, because I wasn't ready to hash this out on a public forum, and I just wasn't ready to be completely honest about my life.
Maybe I'm still not.
However, the window is open now, and maybe sometime in the future I'll be able to open the door and let all twelve of you in.
But for now, this is what I've got. 

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three months

My third trimester starts today.

Jameson Jia Sheung Ho is due three months from yesterday.

I'm not sure that I've even really got my head wrapped around this quite yet. I think it still feels far away, but at the same time it is drawing imminently closer and I am trying not to run around in a panic about all of the things that I would like to have done before he gets here.

Although this has probably been the most trying time in our lives (for many reasons), I look around and I see the fact that we have still been given all of the things we need to bring our son into the world and take care of him for the first few months of his life.

I'm not too sure about the months afterwards, but I am doing my best to rest in the knowledge that at least the "now" is taken care of.

To tell you the truth, I am so in love with my son, that three months almost feels like an unbearable amount of time to wait to meet him.

I want to be a mom now, and time is ticking by.

Although I am still dealing with the realities of labor and birth, when I think about my baby, it's almost like an afterthought.

The little person I have waited for my entire life is almost here, and I am as ready as I will ever be.

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hiatus

I'm taking a break for awhile.

I'm not sure when I'll be back. I know that I'm not finished here, and that I do love having this blog as a creative outlet, but right now, I just can't muster up the energy or enthusiasm to keep it going regularly.
If that means that my chances at gaining 100 followers has been shot down, well, so be it.

There are bigger fish to fry than how many people are google following, or what kind of fashion trends are just coming up, or all of the clothes there are to buy and how on earth to make it through 30 days without buying anything new.

*insert sarcastic tone here*

I'm not shutting it down, or making it private, or anything like that.
Just letting you know that I won't be around regularly again for awhile.
I'll let you know when I make it back.

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family

My lovely cousin Kati flew into London on Sunday, and we got the chance to spend almost 36 hours with her before she hopped on a bus to Swansea, to visit some old friends from her semester abroad there.

It was beyond amazing to have a family member here in this crazy place with me, and we were a pair, the two of us.

I am (feeling) hugely pregnant, and she was jet-lagged, so poor Hubs had to deal with two loud, tired Americans wandering London.

It was wonderful. 
Here is some photographic proof.

Outside Westminster Abbey, before we went in for the Sunday service, which Kati and Dave both dozed through.

No judgment.

Tower of London, and what the weather has looked like ever since I got here.

This Starbucks is so sentimental, cause it's one of the first places Hubs took me the first time I came to England to visit him.

I dragged the two of them around until we found it, and then I made them take pictures of me in front of it.
Someday I'll be that skinny again.

We went to Kings Cross in search of Platform 9 3/4, and we found this...A plastic picture of a brick wall while they do construction on the rest of the station.

Boo.

Love.

They're so cute.

We had such a good time, and it was so nice to be with someone who knows who I am, and who's been with me since...I was born, really.

Relaxing, and freeing, and a much-needed break from daily life.

Not to mention that she brought packets of ranch dressing, enchilada sauce, and the cutest baby items I have ever seen.

Love you, K!

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contentment.

My days are spent remembering this:

While living in this:

Maybe the weather's starting to get to me, and I'm starting to get my S.A.D on, maybe it's a combination of pregnancy hormones and homesickness, but whatever it is, I am lacking contentment in a big way.
My self-centered, selfish human nature is whispering in my ear that I deserve more than this.

A trip to a sunny island shouldn't be so out of the question.

Getting a manicure, or a hair cut, or a massage shouldn't be such a big issue.

Going out for a nice dinner shouldn't be "not an option".

And even though I know it's not true, I've got the devil on my shoulder doing his best to make sure that I feel like I'm lacking just enough to make me want to turn and run.
If you know me, you know that I struggle with making comparisons, and looking at what other people have and finding what I don't.
It's a thorn in the flesh, and a big issue, and something I struggle through daily.
And I'm going to be honest and say that I'm struggling a lot right now.

I hate the weather.

I hate not having a car and being confined to places within walking distance.

I hate going to the grocery store and seeing nothing familiar and trying to figure out why it's called bicarbonate soda and not baking soda.

I miss being surrounded by people that know me, and know who I am, and are comfortable with that so that I don't have to modify my behavior to be accepted.

I'm tired of introducing myself and feeling like an outsider as soon as I open my mouth.

There is this, and there is so much more, but I won't go on, to spare myself some dignity.
I don't have a "happy ending" note for this, other than I am at the end of my rope, and trusting that God will take it from there.

Prayers, encouragement, and hamburgers are appreciated.

-C

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