jueves, 31 de mayo de 2012

Mexico Trip 2012. Day 6: "Happy" Birthday, my loves!


There is always this choice you consciously or unconsciously make about doubting God. I've always wondered if these giants of the Hall of Faith doubted. I guess they did, they were as humans as we are.

Abraham probably doubted he would have a son after 13 years of waiting and nothing, but then Isaac was born. Joseph probably doubted those dreams he had meant something, but he noticed God's favor everywhere he went, and then he saw his brothers bowing down to him. Rahab probably doubted if God would really take care of her family after helping the Israelites, and not only did He do that, but she was actually an ancestor of Jesus. 

The next day I doubted I had heard from God. Libby didn't get any better. But James said that if you lack wisdom you should ask God. And when you hear from Him, you shouldn't doubt. Otherwise you are going to be tossed like a ship in the sea, and that you are unstable in all you do. I had asked God, He said it would be fine, and I had to stick with that.

And God was faithful. He just doesn't work on my schedule :)

I don't know where to continue... Okay, so, I forgot to mention that the night we went to eat tacos (the same night Elizabeth fell) Emerson got sick. We were at my sister's house around 5 pm. waiting for Fili, and Emerson took a nap, a two-hour nap. When he woke up, he was very red and very warm. He was running a fever of 100.4 F, which wasn't super dangerous, but he felt awful. My sister gave him a shot to snap him out of his groove. I think he was feeling congested, plus his stomach had been upset almost all the time we had been in Mexico because of the greasy food. He felt better, and also started taking an antibiotic.

So after we put Libby to sleep in the dirty pajamas, I began reading on my phone what to look for if Libby had had a concussion. They said the child would probably be throwing up, not very alert, like in the zone, or somewhere else. That I had to check for bruises or something weird in her head. But she didn't have any bumps at all. My sister later told me that when I gave Libby to her, she checked her, but found nothing.

Later, I found out, that when a baby hits her head, a bump might not even develop, even if they hit it hard. So who knows? To be honest, I don't even know if my daughter actually hit her head because I was not in the room. My source of information was unreliable. That night my mother said that she had been able to catch her before falling, but the very next day she told me, crying, that she had fallen hard. But I'm getting ahead of myself...



Emerson's most expensive birthday gift, ever.



We woke up Libby to see if she was alert. We played Harry The Bunny on the iPhone. She was awaken or at least she tried to, but it was 12 am, she was tired, and she threw up a little bit of papaya, nothing big, but still...

I told Emerson what I had heard God saying, I was feeling angry, but at the same time, it never crossed my mind to never talk to my mother again. I felt terribly sad for her because I knew how she must have been feeling that night. My mother has her own issues to deal with, and an episode like this would make her world crash down. Emerson and I decided to let Libby sleep, even when they said we shouldn't let her fall asleep right after falling, but how were we to know if she was so tired? Now it was 12 am, and she needed to rest. We would see the next morning.

Her day started at 6 am. She was noticeable tired, but happy, her normal self. I gave her milk and got ready to go to my house, while Emerson took Libby with him to his parents' house. Libby hadn't pooped that morning yet. While I was at my parents' house, Libby had drunk already 8 oz of milk in the hotel. She then drank  6 more ounces (at least) of a smoothie with Emerson. She threw up, again, although that was probably the milk (All this I didn't know at that point yet).

I took the bus towards my parent's house and I prayed that God would give me the strength needed to face my mom. She deals with depression, and I think I have dealt with it, too. I don't really know, but I used to get sad for random stuff, and I was always dealing with negative thoughts, and just feeling discouraged. That  hasn't happened for a long time now, I have to say. But I knew that night she didn't sleep, and it was confirmed by how she looked like that morning. 

I was so happy, so confident, so radiant. I explained to her many times that I wasn't angry at her, that I understood it was an accident, but it was almost like hitting a wall many times. Many times I felt like giving up on her and just explode, and be done with it. Three times I remember asking God to help me. I told Him I couldn't keep on doing that. I told Him I was tired of trying. But those three times He said I was able to keep pressing hard because He was with me. 

I might be making this a whole spiritual experience, and I think it was. People just don't see that a lot, I guess. I am one of them. I don't tend to realize that everyday we are in a spiritual battle for our hearts, our minds; and although I didn't see any angels nor demons, I know my mom was in a very dark place with all this that had happened. I felt it was my job to try to get her out of there. To show here there was light so to speak. And when I say my job, I don't mean that I was gonna make her do it. I mean that maybe God used this incident and my willingness to reach out to my mom, to help me plant a seed. You know what I mean?

That does not mean at all that God wanted Libby to fall, or that He orchestrated all this, but if you are a believer and really know God's character, you will get what I mean by this. If not, I will be more than glad to explain you later, because I have to keep going with this post.

Oh, by the way, on Thursday we were planning on going to have dinner and celebrate the actual birthday of both of my loves, but that had to be cancelled after I found out Elizabeth had been vomiting when I got to my in-laws. I had planned to go to the restroom and come back with Elizabeth wrapped in a bow like in the picture above. But she was supposed to be wearing a really nice dress :)

After like an hour of talking to Mom, there was this whole moment like, when a wall finally starts to fall down. I picture it like when the Israelites were dancing around Jericho, and on the last sound of the trumpet nothing  really happened, but then in the blink of an eye, BUM!



Birthday girl in recovery after visiting the doctor
Birthday Dad watching his baby 



My mom said something, and I began sobbing, and I mean sobbing. I told her I loved her with all my heart, and that I was sorry for her. That she could be sure that Elizabeth was okay, and that even if she wasn't, God was taking care of her. I told her I had forgiven her already for whatever had happened the night before. But that although I loved my daughter more than anything else in this world, I loved God more. That Libby was a gift from Him, and that I knew, I knew God was going to do whatever it needed to be done with this whole situation. She also began crying. I told her many other things...

I also told her no fucking pill (yes, that's what I told her) was gonna take her pain away. I explain to her how it was that I had the peace I had about my daughter, and about my whole life in general. I told her she needed to get closer to God, for real. I asked her if there had been a moment in her life, ever, when she had asked for God's help, and if she had ever realized she couldn't do it on her own. She said she had done that before. I told her that if that was true, that if she had really come to a place where she had given up on her own efforts and had asked God to come into her life, then she had everything she needed to face life. But that now she needed to do her own thing, to make an effort, to start moving forward... I don't even remember what else I said. But the whole gospel I made clear, I am sure.

I felt relieved, I felt all the stress had gone out. I think she appreciated the fact that I had gone and talked to her. And I needed to leave also to go see how my daughter was doing.

When I left I had to walk to the bus stop, like 4 blocks, about 15 minutes. I felt drained, I felt tired, more like exhausted... I felt completely alone. I just wanted to cry so bad. I was so sad this whole incident had happened the way it did. I felt like calling someone, but whom was I gonna call? My family? Emerson? I thought he was mad at me for not putting Libby in the crib when I should have. Who could possibly understand how I was feeling? It was like if I were carrying all this darkness on my shoulders now. I couldn't  call anyone, I just wanted to sleep, and I had to hold the tears in. 

Jeff said the other day this was totally normal, that I was exhausted after being spiritually battling. Who was I battling? Satan himself? I don't think so. One of his demons? I don't freaking know, but I totally kicked his butt. (Thank, you, Jesus.  Oh! Thank you, Jesus... sing it like in that movie Michael with John Travolta). 

I don't mean to say that I won anything regards my mom, she probably continued feeling guilty, but that has nothing to do with me anymore. I looked beyond my own feelings, and was able to forgive, to let go of resentment and anger, and chose to react positively to an incident that could have torn my family apart, I am guessing. Emerson wasn't mad anymore either.

So when I got to my in-law's apartment, Elizabeth had thrown up twice. And after a while of me being there, she threw up twice again. That was six. Plus she threw up one more time before going to the doctor, that makes seven. There was a pediatrician in front of the apartment, and Libby was scheduled for a visit at 1 pm.

By then, my father-in-law had told us that he had gotten sick the night before, around the same time Emerson did. He also ran a fever, and fell asleep. Great. This began sounded more like a virus or something else rather than a concussion. Libby still hadn't pooped. 



Mi cara de pez (My fish-face)


So, this... doctor, welcomed us to the fucking third world country, as he warmly referred to Mexico. We told him that she had been throwing up, but we also told him the whole story of the fall, and Emerson's fever and Grandpa's fever. He asked how she had fallen, and how far had she fallen. I told him I didn't know, that I had asked my mom and that she didn't know what to say. "Well, with that fucking face you have, you probably scared her! Look at you!"

I was really scared, and I was missing my Dr. Pope, already. I'm telling you, you never know you are living in Oz until you leave, ha ha ha!!!  Oh, and I forgot to say I had thrown up, too, when I came back from my mother's apartment, but that was probably Baby, or all the adrenaline of the moment. 

He checked Elizabeth's throat. Said it was swollen, plus asked if she had pooped. Libby had been drinking lots of banana's smoothies, plus the same foods she eats in here, but her poop was different. I don't know. He said she probably presented something called retention vomit. Since she hadn't been able to poop, she was throwing up all the bad foods she had been eating. Bad compared to what she eats in here...

He said he was more inclined to think it was an intestine infection, because she looked fine, nothing in her head, apparently, but that if the vomit continued we should go take some X-rays or similar. For now, he had given her two shots, an antibiotic for the possible infection and something for the inflammation, either throat or intestine. 

Then he said, "You'll be fine, sweety, you just need to shit your diaper." And at the sound of "Fuck it!" he inserted a suppository in my daughter's precious anus. Oh, by the way, he also said she was running a fever. The thermometer, he had also inserted in her little anus.

What happened next was an awful amount of poop that went all the way up Elizabeth's back. Grandpa gave her a shower. She cried, of course. She doesn't like showers except with Mommy. She is going through this separation anxiety, and being in Mexico, was no help at all.  

By now, I was just going through the motions. I just wanted this to end. I wanted her to poop, so we could stat giving her Gatorade, and get her re hydrated. I was also feeling more and more confident the fall had nothing to do with the vomit, not after the fever. But physically, I was totally exhausted. I took advantage of Pamela and my in-laws, they took care of Libby the rest of the evening. I was in the couch with a terrible headache, feeling my body almost breaking, you know, when your bones hurt, as if I was gonna get sick next. But that never happened. I just needed to rest that night.

Emerson told me the other day that I am the pillar of this house, I liked hearing that. I asked him what he really meant because I've heard that many, many times, but I never really understood what it meant.

He said I am like a pillar, just like a pillar. If a pillar of a building breaks or falls, everything else collapses. I liked that even more. I felt praised, loved and appreciated. And also proud, because I know he is right. I can humbly say that if Mommy gets sick, this house would go to ruins in less than an hour. Everybody got sick, my dad also had diarrhea one of those nights. My father-in-law continued with vomit on Friday night before Libby and Emerson's party. I think my sister-in-law was beginning to feel sick when we left Mexico. But I, the pregnant lady, with low immune system, never fell prey of the thingy going around there.


Not very fond of the gift
First poop after suppository. 











In recovery. Opening birthday gifts

Playing with stuffed friends













We came back with the doctor that evening after she had pooped, and this time I was reprimanded for having given my daughter half a litter of Gatorade. He called her Panzona (big fat girl) supposedly for all the liquid I had given her. What? She was thirsty! She hadn't vomited at all, and she was eating only purees. The doctor inserted another suppository to take everything out, and she cried again. She was exhausted, too. We were told to come back the next day ( on Friday afternoon).

She fell asleep in my arms on the way to the hotel. Emerson sang Happy Birthday while I was changing her diaper and putting her her pajamas. He said in tears it had been his worst birthday ever. I agreed. 

She slept from 9 pm to 7:30 am. The very next morning she pooped again, and we gave her a shower. Then she threw up again, while I was fixing my hair. But don't fret just yet.

This time she threw up because with all these suppositories she was pooping a lot. The poop came out of the diaper and into the pack 'n play where she was playing. She might have thought poop looked funny and tasted good, and she decided to eat it :))

She had another shower, and we headed towards my in-law's to get stuff ready for the party the next day. The doctor inserted yet another suppository, but my girl had discovered by then she could push them out, and she did in less than five minutes, with a little bit of poop. He talked about giving her more shots, and vaccines on Saturday evening, but we passed on that. 

She has her one-year appointment tomorrow with her Dr. Pope. We'll see what he says about all this.


  

She only had a scratch in her nose. It is gone by now. 



I wonder if my children will value the time I took to write all this. Hopefully one day they'll tell me they loved reading about their lives through my eyes :))









miércoles, 30 de mayo de 2012

Mexico Trip 2012. Day 5: The Fall


Bear with me and watch this YouTube video. It's from a song called Love Song, by Third Day.




May 29, 2012. Back home and chilling before lunch.



Well, I hope you are not crying by now... I've also heard it said that mothers or fathers would give their own lives should they see their children are in danger. I am not sure about that. I just can't tell you I would really give my life for Elizabeth or for Baby. It is what it is. I want to think I would, and I actually cried over not knowing what I would do if Libby's life was in danger at delivery. One day I said I wanted to live instead of her, other day I said I would die for her even before knowing her.

I guess I will never know for sure unless I am faced with a situation where someone wants to take their lives. Do not take me wrong, I love her with all my guts, I just don't know if I would actually die for her. 

"Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die" ~ Rom 5:7

This verse has to do with Jesus dying for us while we were still sinners. But it makes my point clear, I just don't know if I would dare to die for my daughter. But I do know Jesus died for me and for her, to give us life, life to the fullest. He cares for me, for every single detail in my life. Even the stupidest ones, because for Him, my worries or concerns are not stupid at all.

Wednesday was a day of trials. God never gives you anything that you are not ready to face, and even then, He won't give you more than you can hanlde. I guess He thought we were ready.

The day started slow. I was at my parent's house from 8 am to 5 pm. Emerson went to brew beer with his cousin, and came back to pick us up. We went to my sister's house to wait for Fili and a couple of my friends from college so we could go to eat tacos.

We left Libby with my mom and dad. I asked them to give her her bottle around 8:30 pm, and just sing some songs, just make her happy, and what not. I asked them to put her to bed by 9 pm tops. "Just let her cry in the pack n' play, but if it breaks your heart, rock her. Do whatever you want to do, but make her sleep, I won't be here." 

We came back around 9 pm, and Libby had just fallen asleep. She was not in the pack 'n play, though. Mom said she cried every time she would feel the crib, and so she was lying on the bed. I knew my mom was in the bedroom with her, watching her, she said she would take care of her. And long story short, she fell.

As soon as I heard her crying, I freaked out. I was angry and scared. I yelled at my mom, "I told you, I told you!"

Was it my fault? I don't know. I am the mom, I should have put her in the crib, instead of relying in my mom watching her, but I didn't do it. I will not go there and dwell on what I should have done, because I have to control my thoughts. I know that if I go there, there will be a lot of darkness, and I am done with that. She fell, there is nothing I can do now.

She was covered in vomit when I had her in my arms. She vomited in my arms again. I, crying, screamed at my sister, "She is throwing up!!"  I guess I gave my daughter to my sister, in hopes that she would do something, she is a doctor after all. I guess my scream meant more like, "Do something for her, please!"

And then, I just did the only thing I could do, I guess. I began praying. I dissapeared from that room. My mom was there, my sister, Emerson, my dad, my friend, but I turned my back on them facing the door, and I began saying over and over again, "God, please, please take care of my daughter. Heal her, Father, don't let anything happen to her. You are in control of this..."

I guess I repeated that so many times, it looked like or sounded like a spell. My mom tried to reach out to me, but Emerson didn't let her come near me. That was good, I know he didn't mean anything bad, it was just that listening to her at that moment wouldn't have helped me. But she continued reaching out. I don't remember much, but I do remember I lifted up my hand, like in a Don't-come-near-just-now-motion and told her, "Mom, there is nothing you can do about this. God is control of my daughter."

Elizabeth continued throwing up in my sister's arms, and fell asleep. We put everything in my friend's car, I came back to hug my mom, and said I was sorry for yelling at her. I said I got scared, but she wouldn't let me come near her. What the heck? Probably her own issues. Anyway, we never insulted anybody, we never disrespected anyone. We didn't say anything AT ALL that we would later regret. And then, we left.

I talked to Emerson about this night just recently. He said he had never felt so angry, but at the same time he had never been able to control himself the way he did. He said when he is angry he likes his anger to explode.  I guess that's very human. I am proud for his self control, but I totally understand that being led by the Spirit doesn't feel like freedom at all most of the time. 

Jesus said that if we hold to his teaching, we would be his disciples. Only then, we would know the truth, and that truth would set us free. I don't know if i ever talked about that sermon Andy Stanley taught on this. He said that many things don't feel like freedom at the beginning when we do them. He talked about his teenage years where everybody was having sex except him. But now he is free. He remained a virgin until he got married. He is free from many thoughts he could have had. 

He also talked about when you do not get into debt, and save money, and tithe. It doesn't feel like freedom not being able to buy anything you want or going on vacation, but Andy said that he is now enjoying  a standard of living his college peers are not, only because they chose not to be self-controlled in their spending. 

Anyway, the ride to the hotel was awful. There was complete silence. I was in the back of my friend's car watching my baby's face. Shucks... I'm crying just now. I kept on asking God to heal my daughter, but then I stopped. And here it is where my story turns weird, because instead of offering my life for hers, like I thought I would if she was in danger, I just offered my daughter's life to God. 

I asked God if He remembered the night Libby was born. Obviously He did. DUH! 

I reminded Him of what I had said that night. That night I thanked Him for blessing us with her, I told Him I knew she was not ours, but His. I told Him I knew she was our gift from above and that our job was to train her to love Him, but that I was fully aware that her life wasn't mine. I told Him it hurt to realize that baby I had carried for nine months was not really mine, and that I knew one day she would leave to have a life of her own. That night I also told Him I loved her and Jesus with all my heart.

In my friend's car, I asked for His healing over my daughter one more time, but then I told him that if it was in His will not to heal her, I was okay with that. How could I do that? I don't know. It feels really weird. I actually told Him that I wasn't feeling like an Abraham, and that Libby wasn't my Isaac, either, but that He was all I knew. He could either heal her or not. I just wanted His will. Of course I wanted my daughter to be okay, but I told Him I felt at peace if He decided to take her with Him.

Now, let's get a break.

When someone dies, people sometimes dramatize death by saying that God took that person away from them. When I say that I was at peace with that, I am not dramatizing, nor did I dramatize in the back of the car. I was just consciously aware of the fact that there is a beginning and an end to everybody's life. And I was ready to face the end of my baby's life, if that was God's will for her. I was honestly ready. I mean, I was scared for how she had vomited, although my sister said it was probably because of her milk she just had had. She said accidents happen. Yes, they happen. But until she becomes a mother, she won't understand what I felt.

I told God I was confused, and that I didn't understand why He would let this happen. But at BSF this year, they made clear to me plenty of times (God did it through His Word) that there is nothing that happens in this life without Him knowing it. There is not a trial that we go through, that He has not allowed to come into our lives. And if He has let that happen, it is because there is a purpose. 

That night in the back of the car I also told Him that I didn't understand the purpose of this, but that I knew there was one, and I still believe there was one. I just don't know what the freaking purpose is or was!

I felt His voice telling me that she was going to be okay. That my baby would be okay. He said to read Psalm 92. I'll post that Psalm later. But I believed what I had heard. I felt that peace that transcends all understanding and guards your heart and your mind in Christ Jesus :))

Anyway, we got to the hotel, we changed Libby's diaper, and let her sleep in the dirty pajamas. By this time it was almost 12 am.

And that's it for now. I won't make this post longer. The "worst" was yet to come. 













Mexico Trip 2012. Day 3- Day 4


DAY 3: FEAR OF THE STATUES

Monday morning was great. We woke up, and had our milk. Libby shared her cookie with La Nena. They say children will not share as they become older, and I guess they are right, but for now it was cute to watch Libby giving part of her cookie to her doll. She probably doesn't know that is sharing. 



Sharing cookie with La Nena
Sharing with Mommy




We headed out to meet Grandma Azu at her job, since she works very close from the hotel we stayed in. She would give us more food for Libby, and Baby. On our way there, I needed to go to the bathroom, but we couldn't find a place to go. I actually went into a church hoping they would let me in. But no one was there, only a few people praying.

I didn't want to interrupt them for obvious reasons... What's funny though, is that I realized how silly I am sometimes. How silly and how blessed I am. Growing Catholic, I think I was afraid of God, but in a bad way. I totally get why people are afraid of Him in that way, like if He were waiting for you to screw up and send you to hell right away. Catholic Church buildings don't help a lot in that matter. They only make things worse.

As I got in the church, the very first thing I saw was this huge statue of the Virgin Mary. What I automatically did was to cross myself, out of fear, or out of respect for Mary and the people who saw me getting in. It's not like I was gonna see Mary and say, "Hey, Mary, what's up? Where are the bathrooms here?"

As I walked to the back of the building I saw a real sized Jesus stuck into a coffin, all covered in blood, and I thought, "Oh, Jesus, look at you, you look bad..." 

Then I told myself, "What is wrong with you? That is not Jesus, Jesus is alive and not covered in blood at all."

It was just funny to rethink like I used to, and I understand why many people believe they have to feel guilty. Why wouldn't they? There was barely any light in that place, as if having dim lights would make you more spiritual. I am so glad I know the real gospel of Jesus. I was honestly glad I got out of that place after not finding any bathrooms.

I ended up peeing in a gross bathroom with no lights that was inside a parking lot. I had to do it like the little eagle, de aguilita. That's what we say when you do not touch the toilet with your bottom at all.   

Then we headed out walking to Emerson parent's house. It took us like an hour, but Libby took a nap in the stroller that we borrowed from Emerson's cousin, Alejandra. On the way there we stopped at a Walmart to buy my CD's so that I could burn the PDF with my book, and get this, Walmart had a fast lane for pregnant women!! It was awesome.

La Nena had been going everywhere with us, she was really, really dirty. But she got a lot worse once we went to visit my sister and Fili. Libby was crawling and walking all over their apartment, and her feet were nasty. 



Aunt Susana and Uncle Fili
Libby really liked nose kisses










Nastiest feet ever


We left and gave Libby the shower of her life. Her feet were super dirty. After that, Emerson had to wash La Nena in the shower. He told me he never thought he would be doing that one day. Well, there's always a first.

Libbby was almost asleep by 9 pm, she was having a difficult time going to sleep. And then my in-laws called, and she ended up sleeping until 10 pm. 



DAY 4: BEAUTY HURTS

On Tuesday morning we had breakfast at La Parroquia at 8:30 am. My mom said it was too early. Early is the time my daughter wakes up, and that sometimes means 5:50 am. 


Getting her bib ready

With Grandpa Carlos
With Grandma Angeles


Happy family of 5 (Baby in belly, Dori not present)


After breakfast, we walked to the subway station and Emerson headed over to college since he needed to see a teacher and good friend. My sister and I went to the mall with my dad and Libby. My mom went home and took Libby's diaper bag. So Libby spent the next three hours without a diaper, well, with a wet diaper, but she was happy having fun with her grandpa. So I had the chance to buy shoes, courtesy of my mom and sister :))

Then we headed to my parents' apartment and ate pozole. We left around 3 pm to go to the hotel, and  change our clothes because we met Pamela at La Feria de las Culturas Amigas in Reforma. It was a display with different foods and stuff from different countries. I was wearing these black new shoes Emerson bought me for Libby's birthday party. They were hurting after one hour. They kept on hurting me more and more because Pamela wanted us to go with her to sign her job contract to a building nearby. 

And they totally "destroyed" my feet since we kept on walking to meet my in-laws for dinner at Konditori. 



At her country's stand with Aunt Pamela

Waiting for Grandma outside her office
(Marylin Monroe, my butt!)


I know she is my daughter, but I have to say Libby is very smart. She sits at the table and it may seem like she is just there, but she knows what's going on. She might be in her own world, but at the same time she is alert, and she is a mini person. She is showing her personality more and more.

Two nights ago, actually, she threw what I consider was her first temper tantrum. She disobeyed us willfully. She knows how to sign "Milk, please". She has done it plenty of times, she did it all the time while we were in Mexico. But two nights ago, she refused to sign please. We gave her many chances, but she would just cry and throw herself on the bed, angry that we wouldn't give her the milk.  Finally we gave it to her, but her consequence for disobeying was having no songs nor stories after that. She fell asleep crying. 

I felt sad. I felt like my precious little baby couldn't be that way. But she is a sinner, I know that. She was born that way, I believe so. And I could see that selfish, sinful nature all the way when this happened. I can't wait for her to be able to run and scream, if we ever decide to spank her...NOT!

It also made me think and be grateful for the many times God must have been patient with me, giving me plenty of opportunities before letting me experience the consequences of my own actions.

















With Grandpa Andres and Grandma Azu


I made it to the hotel in one piece, but my feet were really swollen, and I won't even tell you how the skin that covers the Achilles tendon looked like. We gave Libby her shower, sang her songs and she even brushed her hair.

It was a very good day. 


Posing with Dadda
Styling her hair





martes, 29 de mayo de 2012

Mexico Trip 2012. Day 1- Day 2


DAY -1: BE JOYFUL ALWAYS

People freaks out at the thought of Satan attacking them spiritually. I have never talked openly about it, not even in my book, which by the way, I was able to give to many people while I was in Mexico.

Okay, so, if there is a God; there is His counterpart, Satan or the devil or the enemy, or the biggest asshole - as sometimes I refer to Him when I am praying. He is real, he exists because the Bible talks about him. He was an angel of God, beautiful like no other, but he was proud, rebellious, and wanted to be like God, more than God. And so God didn't take crap from Him, and kicked him out of Heaven, even before the creation of the world.

I have never studied Theology (although I lead a Theology 101 class with Elizabeth as my only student in the mornings), and so I can't really explain many things. You can wonder why God created Satan in the first place if He knew Satan would rebel. But then I could ask you back, "Then why did He created us if He knew we would mostly disobey?" 

He created us because He loves us. He created Satan because Satan needed to exist, I am guessing. He is a Creator, He loves things, He is imaginative. Jesus loved Judas Iscariot, He even chose him to be his disciple with full knowledge that he would be the traitor. All this I'm just wondering, okay? There is no place in the Bible that I know of, that talks about God creating Satan out of love. Actually, God detests sin, and sin came into the world because Adan and Eve choose wrong, and listened to Satan, instead of God.

Anyways... so Satan is real. Spiritual warfare is real. Yes, Satan hates you, and will aim for you with all his might, so that you never have a relationship with God through Jesus. Or if you already have one, he will try to steal your joy and your love and faith in God. He does this in different ways, not personally. Satan is not omnipresent like God. So when you are tempted, the most probable thing is that is not Satan tempting you, but either his demons, or just your very own sinful nature, or just this frigging world we live in.

So, if you see at the picture of life through this glass, we are pretty much screwed one way or the other. 

Unless we have Jesus. 

The Bible says, "Greater is He who is in you (Jesus in Holy Spirit form), than he who is in the world (Satan)" ~ 1 John 4:4. So why would you freak out? You have a stronger power inside of you than the limited power this MOFO has!!



The very face of joy (and mischievousness)


So anyway, shit happens. That's a saying I learned from Jeff. But you will always have a choice: either you praise God, and keep pressing forward keeping the faith, OR you just give into temptation, believing God doesn't love you enough, or whatever lies Satan whispers into your ear.

It has been difficult for me to choose right lately. But it is possible. I've noticed that the more you choose right, the next time choosing right comes easier. It's like an addiction in the positive way, do I make sense??
My husband helps me do that. He helped me and led me to be joyful always no matter what one day before going to Mexico. Ha! We didn't even know that was the very beginning of our BE JOYFUL ALWAYS ADVENTURE IN MEXICO.

So the car broke down on Friday evening. It was six o'clock and we couldn't do anything. Emerson was upset about the fact that we couldn't do anything to fix the car before leaving. Sure, he was upset, but he never exploded. He just asked me to remain silent, until he made all the arrangements needed. I did as I was told. Probably that is the reason he didn't explode.

So the tow truck came the next day after we left to the airport, took the car to the dealer, and they fixed the problem. Honda makes good cars, but not good batteries. Mr. Bob Nichols took us to the airport, bless his heart. He also took care of Dori, and took her to the Spa (that's how we call the boarding place). 

All this car thing happened after dinner on Friday. So when Daddy left to meet the tow truck driver, Libby and I sang our favorite song lately, with some personal arrangements...

"Be joyful always (that we will go on vacation, and Goood is in charge of thiiiisss), pray continually (that we would have a waaaay to get to the airpoooort), give thanks in all circumstances (Thank you, Jesuuusss, that the car dieeed in front of the salon, and not when Mommy or Daddy were driviiing, or on our waaaayy to the airpoooort tomoroooowwww). For this is God's will for you, in Christ Jesus."

You need to hear this song, it's a Bible verse, but the song is really good. 

http://www.seedsfamilyworship.net/listen-online/  Volume 4, Seeds of worship, Song 12: Be joyful always.



DAY 1: SHOPPING FOR MY LIFE

So we got to the airport with two suitcases, my purse, Emerson's back pack, his laptop from work, Libby's back pack, and her pack 'n play. Two people to carry all that, one of them pregnant. Great.

Libby was on her back pack on her personal camel, Daddy. Besides that, Daddy took care of Libby's pack 'n play, and a  suitcase. I took care of my purse, a suitcase with Daddy's laptop on top, and Emerson back pack filled with books. But I am sure it wasn't as heavy as having Elizabeth on my back. I was tired already after walking five minutes, because we were in the wrong terminal. 

Libby drank her milk at 7 am. After security check, which was fast thanks to having a baby, we stopped fro Chocolate Cheerios, and some bananas. I had a tall, decaffeinated Starbucks Mocha, and a strawberry preserves sandwich I made at home that morning. For some reason, drinking decaf coffee at the airport gives me the illusion of getting the caffeine required to face a flight with a baby. This time she was very mobile and alert. Not like last time, when she was 4 months old.

But she was as awesome as usual, she fell asleep as soon as we boarded the plane, and woke up just minutes before landing.  



Libby with Grandma and new shoes 


When we got there, our families were waiting for us already. We went to the hotel to check in, and Emerson's parents left since they needed to do stuff. We stayed with my parents and went to the mall to buy two pairs of shorts for my pregnant belly, a dress for Elizabeth's birthday, and two pairs of shoes also for her.

Shopping was stressful because Libby was tired, and I was tired. But it was good. I chose things fast, I think. Well, it could've been longer. Emerson picked Libby's dress. I picked her sandals, and her other shoes. My mom wanted to buy me more clothes, but I just couldn't take advantage of that.

Man... being with my mom at the store made me remember of all the things I always had, and how she used to buy me almost all I wanted. But this time, I couldn't let her do it. There was no way I was gonna accept more clothes, just to use them for the next 5 months. I needed pregnancy shorts for summer in Texas and that's all the clothes I bought (she bought). I am thankful.

We had Enchiladas Verdes for lunch, and then we went back to the hotel around 7:30 pm. They said they were gonna call us once our bedroom was ready, but they never did. The hotel in itself has a story I will later tell.  

Emerson left for a beer tasting thing with his cousin, and my mom stayed with me for a bit in the hotel. Libby fall asleep at 9 pm, and woke up at 7 am on Sunday.



DAY 2: I NEED A BREAK FROM ALL THIS BUZZ

Okay... so get ready to go to Emerson's house in the morning to have breakfast with Grandpa Andres, Grandma Azu, and Aunt Pamela. Then have Libby take a nap, meet your parents at the market to eat barbacoa tacos, and then go back near Emerson's house for his cousin's Andrea Engagement Party. Do all that without a car (you don't want to drive in Mexico's City traffic anyway). Just take a taxi, the bus or the Metrobus, and hold your daughter for dear life since she pretty much depends on you in case of an accident. And yes, that is legal.

That was Sunday.

We got up around 7 am. I fixed my hair, and Libby played in the pack 'n play. We took a taxi to Emerson's parents, and I threw up on the way there, thanks to Baby. The taxi driver made a very sudden turn (which Emerson says wasn't as bad as I felt it), and I had that feeling... I yelled, "You have to get out, Emerson, you have to get out!!" But he was very slow, and I jumped over him and Libby, and got out of the car. Thank goodness, we stopped at a red light. 

I couldn't throw up. The urge stopped. And as soon as I got in the car again, this time in the front seat, I felt the urge again. I just leaned forward as hard as I could, in order to not stain my "party" clothes, or my shoes. I was seated in the car with the door opened, and all came out. I squeezed my muscles hard and I was able to hold the pee in. That is happening lately. Every time I throw up, I wet my pants, but that day I made it dry. 


Dry Mommy



So we spent a couple of hours with my in-laws, then we took the metrobus to get to the market. We had to walk a little bit between all these things, but I'm not used to walk as much. I mean, I walk in the mornings, but that's it. I usually have my AC running around the house, and every time I leave my house I hop into my car, and strap my daughter to her car seat. But pretty much nothing of that happened while in Mexico. I am very thankful for all those things that I take for granted sometimes. 


We made it to the market on time, and Libby took a nap on the metrobus, and she was still asleep while we were eating. After that we went to the bakery to order her cake and Emerson's for Saturday. We walked again. I was beginning to feel very tired. Then we walked again to the bus stop, and then took the metrobus again. My feet were swollen by 1 pm, and the engagement party hadn't even started yet.



Libby napping at the tacos stand


The party was a big one. There were more than one hundred people, I say wait for the wedding. Emerson talked to her cousin and her boyfriend. I don't have all the details, but pretty much he told them that once they get marrried, she was his family, and he was hers. He told them not to let any parent interfere, and if they really wanted to stop all that, they should move, ha, ha, ha! 

He offered his help for financial counseling if they needed any, and he told them he loved them. I am proud of my husband.



Libby with Grandma Azu and Daddy


Andrea and Julio met in college and later they joined a group of Mexican folklore music. They have been dating for more than five years. It was about time :)

I needed to put my feet up during the party, and I did. I was very, very tired by 7 pm. We stayed for some dances, and then we left. I gave Libby a shower, we read her usual stories, and she slept from 9 pm to 7 am that night..




Andy and her Charro Negro, Julio.

lunes, 28 de mayo de 2012

Mexico Trip 2012. Overview.


God has always placed different people in my life at different times. He has also put me through circumstances that seem more difficult than anything else at the moment they happen. But I know that my life totally depends on Him. There was a time when I didn't know this, but I am glad I know it now. I needed to know that last week.

There is nothing in this life that goes unnoticed by God, nor anything that happens without Him knowing it will happen. He is not the bad guy, but when something bad happens, I have peace in understanding that He allowed that in my life for a reason. Every trial in this life is God filtered. My job is to choose to follow Him and do right, to be joyful whatever the circumstances. 

And I needed to mention all this because I live in Oz. My friend Jeff always says we live in Oz, but we do not know that. Hell, no, we don't! 

Most Americans, even Christian ones - authentic Christian ones- will never know what a blessed country they have. They will never know they have been living in Oz all their lives. I've seen the movie, but I guess I got stuck with Dorothy as a cartoon when I was a child. Jeff mentioned, however, that the movie starts in black and white, but when they arrived there, everything turned to really bright colors.

I remember that. They are happy. They just need to walk on the Yellow Brick Road. Emerald City is beautiful. America is beautiful... some people just don't know it because they have never been outside of it.

Our trip to Mexico was challenging and exhausting, but also fulfilling (at least for me). We got to see lots of family, and spend time with them. 

We also celebrated Libby's 1st birthday, and Emerson's 29th birthday -his worst according to him. I totally agree.  

I learned several things in the last 10 days:

  • I learned that the love you have for your child is stronger than anything else. 

  • I learned that God is always with you, and will never leave you nor forsake you, even when you feel your world is crashing down.

  • I learned that it sucks balls to see your daughter cry because she is in her worst pain ever.

  • I learned that there are people who will always criticize you for leaving your country, or for almost becoming like those Americans. But they will never dare to leave Mexico the way you left. They will never understand there are better places simply because they haven't known better, and I can't blame them.

  • I learned that it is easy to praise God when everything goes right, but it feels like a pain in the butt to even try to understand His will, and say Thank you, Abba, when you have no control over the things that happen around you. But I learned it is possible. 

  • I learned it is possible to forgive and let go of anger, resentment, and whatever feelings that could have become a major episode in your family. 

  • I learned that with man things are impossible, but everything is possible with God ~ Matt 19:26.


I learned many other things, I'm sure. These are the ones that came to mind just right now. Overall, I am very thankful for my Emerson and my Libby, and my Baby.

But in the own words of Beto "The Pediatrician" Sanchez, "This fucking third world country gave you a very fucked up welcome, Elizabeth. Happy Birthday." 

He is a pediatrician for realz.

I am happy to be back in my Oz. My own Cypress, Texas, Oz. No Yellow Brick Road here, more like poopy diapers. No Emerald City here, more like a bigger mess everyday in my living room. But this is my life. And I praise God for every single second of it.

Welcome to Mexico City for the next seven posts.