Hi everyone. My name is Becca and I am spoiled.

I know that I am spoiled.  

In a lot of ways I am spoiled through the natural set up of my life… American, access to health care, loving parents, blah blah blah.  But today I want to discuss how I am spoiled by my chef.  And by chef, I mean Otha.  

Otha and I had countless conversations on the phone at the beginning of our relationship getting to know one another.  Basic things you know.  What’s your favorite book?  Tell me about your family.  Why did you choose to study ___ in college?  But I will not forget when the subject of cooking entered into our dialogue.  I was in my room putting clothes away (an endless task in my life) enjoying the back and forth easy flow of conversation when Otha mentioned that he cooks often.  But not only does he cook often as a college male, he REALLY ENJOYS it.  It’s a way for him to serve.  A way for him to relax.  An outlet for his creativity.  Giddy does not do justice what I felt at that moment.  If I did not literally jump in the air, my emotions were definitely doing flips with glee.  I remember getting off the phone and repeating to myself: “he loves to cook!!!” like a crazy person who just found an imaginary $100 bill.  

Flashbacks came from when I joked with my parents about how I needed to find a man who can cook- crucial in order for me to have any hope of a non-college-diet life.  The staples of my daily meals consisted of yogurt with granola, peanut butter, and tortillas with cheese & salsa.  Every day. Whenever one of my roommates would purchase salsa, I knew it was simply a thoughtful blessing to my stomach and not much of a contribution to their meals.  It was understood that I was the queen of salsa consumption.   And trust me, I was satisfied with what I ate.  However there was always a little voice reminding me that I cannot eat this way forever:  “Good wives don’t give their husbands a spoonful of peanut butter for dinner”  “Moms who care will buy more than tortillas for their children’s daily lunch”.  I wanted to punch that voice in the face.  

Why didn’t I just learn to cook?  Let me tell you.  I did.  My sweet mom tried teaching me over and over.  I even asked for a cook book as a young child and trying all the simple recipes- a passion was brewing.  Whether due to apathy or busyness, my season of cooking came to an end.  Then every attempt in college to rekindle the passion was fruitless… in fact it was horrible.  Recipes stressed me out because I would have to invest in crazy ingredients.  I would leave out a cup of something and the whole dish would be ruined.  If I successfully prepared a dish, the oven would fight back with an evil vengeance and spit out a burned entrée.  STRESSFUL.  

So I married Otha.  Obviously I married Otha for an infinite number of more important reasons than his ability to cook.  But I am not going to pretend that I do not love the fact that Otha has incredible culinary skills.  If he hated cooking and was worse than me at it, I would still marry him.  In fact, I was concerned that his passion for cooking would clash with my minimal desire to buy anything unnecessary at the grocery story.  But the fact is- he is talented at cooking and I am not.  Since being married, Otha has done the majority of cooking dinner and I gladly clean the dishes afterwards.  Even if I decide what we are going to have for dinner, Otha will instinctively begin getting things out to create a masterpiece.  On ambitious days I will ask Otha how he prepared the meal in hopes that I can recreate it one day.  But the more he explains, the more confused I become.  

For a week Otha did an all liquid fast, as in he is only consumed liquids.  Trying to be a supportive wife, I was really excited for him to take this journey… until I began to realize that I needed to make dinner for seven day. SEVEN DAYS.  The first night, I made a tortilla with cheese and spinach on it and called it dinner.  But it’s different being pregnant.  I can’t just eat whatever I want knowing it will only affect me.  Our son’s growth is influenced by what nutrients I put into my body throughout each day.  Dang it.  Thus, Sunday I had a little melt down looking through recipe books, websites, anything to help.  After a pep talk from Otha, I finally decided to pick out 2 very simple meals and I will just eat the left-overs throughout the week.   I know this does not provide much variety in my dinners, but it gives me sanity.  Less stress  >  food variety.  

Needless to say, my gratitude for Otha’s contribution to our family in the kitchen has grown even more.  He makes nutritious delicious meals on a consistent basis and never gives me a hard time for being a horrible cook.  In the middle of his fast, I was driving home from work around 7pm.  I had great intentions of making that second meal  when I got home since my left-overs from the first meal were depleted.  Then it hit me- I forgot to take the meat out of the freezer that morning to defrost .  I am pregnant.  And so hungry.  Ugh.  But when I walked in the door, there was a hot, home-made chicken quesadilla waiting for me.  Otha Graham had done it again.  He figured I was going to be very hungry when I got home and saw that my dinner supply in the fridge was gone.  So he took initiative to love his wife by making dinner… even when he can’t partake in the delicious meal.  Seriously I have an amazing husband!!

Change will occur though when Asher is born and I have no excuse not to cook while Otha is at work.  “Alright Otha, you go work hard all day, make money, and then come home and labor in the kitchen.  Thanks.”  I know I need to practice preparing awesome meals.  I know that I need to start thinking about things like defrosting meat when I wake up in the mornings.  I know that I need to channel creativity into the kitchen.  But for now, I am soaking in the blessing of having an incredible chef of a husband.  Spoiled, you ask?  Absolutely. 

Picture Proof of Pregnancy...

Not that any of you were doubting that we are pregnant.  There have been requests for some uterus-full-of-human pictures so here they are...

Scary face?  Sorry about that.

Too close?  My bad.

'

That's better.  

Asher Isaiah Graham

No pressure naming a kid, right?  I mean, they are only going to be called that name their ENTIRE lives.  There are meanings to consider, potential nicknames, whether the name will help or hinder the child making friends in middle school, etc. And we all know it's helpful if a teacher can read the name and pronounce it correctly. So not in any particular order of importance, here are some reasons we chose the name Asher Isaiah Graham.

Thus far in our immediate family we have Rebecca and Otha.  A fairly common name and a name that no one remembers how to pronounce unless they meet Otha five times.  I went through a phase where I would get offended for Otha if someone got his name wrong.  "It's Ortho, right?"  "NO, IT'S OTHA. O-T-H-A!" Of course I would not say that out loud in response, but God forgive me, I definitely thought it in my head.  I thankfully have matured a bit since that phase (so don't feel like I am judging you if you get his name wrong).  We therefore wanted a name that was unique, but not impossible to remember.  As we bounced name ideas off family and friends, we never received a confused response when mentioning "Asher".  That's a good sign in itself if people don't ask "what did you say?  how do you spell that? did you get that from a star wars character book?".  Also, our dear friends the Sandefurs spent some time praying and thinking of a name for our child and Asher was on their list.  I fully trust that they would not suggest a horrible name.  (Thank you Sandefurs!)

The meaning and history of a name held a lot of weight also in the decision making process.  Trust me, we found many great names that we agreed on (which in itself is a miracle), but the meanings were not quite fitting... like: "second born with red hair". Our son will definitely be the first born and probably won't have red hair.  So the search continued.  The more we considered Asher, the more I felt peace about the simple meaning of "happy/blessed".  Asher was the son of Jacob and Leah's maid Zilpah.  I love how Asher is not mentioned much in the Bible, yet God still used him in establishing the 12 tribes of Israel.  As much as I would love our Asher to live such a profound life that his name is known worldwide, that is absolutely not the goal in life.  Every time I hear about an individual tucked away that is dedicated to the Lord day in and day out without recognition, I am moved beyond words.  God longs for us to be faithful.  Period.  The nameless woman who sacrifices her every need to care for the outcasts in her village is just as beautiful of an example as Mother Theresa.  Therefore I am drawn to the simplicity of Asher's story.

Isaiah on the other hand gets some lime light in the history of Christianity.  To start things off, Isaiah means "God is salvation"... that's the gospel in a nutshell if I have ever heard one.  One of the aspects of Isaiah's story that deeply impacts me is Isaiah's unwavering obedience to the Lord.  I'm sure he had moments of "you want me to do what God?!?" but I don't get to read about those moments.  Isaiah 20:2-3 says:

 "Then the Lord spoke through Isaiah son of Amoz, saying, 'Take the rough cloth off your body, and take you sandals off your feet.' So Isaiah obeyed and walked around naked and barefoot.  The the Lord said, 'Isaiah my servant has walked around naked and barefoot for three years as a sign against Egypt and Cush." 

 THREE YEARS!  No big deal, just walking around naked and barefoot for three years because God told me to do so.  A continual pattern occurs where God tells Isaiah to do something and he does it.  Isaiah completely surrenders his life to God's purpose.  Ya know what else happens?  God reveals to Isaiah that Jesus is coming, a complete solution to our separation from God.  How incredible for Isaiah to have the vision of the entire Kingdom plan and be able to take hope fully trusting in what is to come!  Obedience, servanthood, and access to the bigger picture of God's hand in humanity.  Yes- I will name our son Isaiah.

And of course, ever present syllables.  Asher Isaiah Graham.  We like to balance things out a bit... don't want to confuse our future kindergarten student with 5 syllable first and middle names.  Let's also not forget the beginning letters of the name.  As much as it works for some people, I am just not willing to name our son something like: Gary Garret Graham.  Or even the endings of names... Sam Jam Graham.  There happens to be a common courtesy from parent to child with these gritty details of picking a name.

You're welcome Asher.

Picture of the ever-growing Asher is coming shortly.

Home Birth

Birth happens every day.  All day.  Babies being pushed out of their mother's bodies, taking their first breath, and beginning their journey in this world.  So let me preface this by saying that birth happens no matter where, with who, using or not using whatever mechanisms... if the baby is born and survives then great!  I am not saying there are wrong ways to experience birth (unless they are intentionally harmful to mom and/or baby).  BUT, I am saying I have preferences and passions pertaining to the birth process that have been further molded since finding out we were pregnant.  If you will get offended about why we chose a home birth because you are passionate about your own different experience- stop reading.  I am not here to offend.  I am here to express and record for my own purpose why we chose a home birth.  If you had a wonderful hospital, epidural-filled, C-Section birth, I am so happy for you that your experience was filled with joy and life!  I would not want you to trade that in for something different.  Every moment shapes who you are, so your birthing experience is part of you!  Enough with the prefacing... read at your own risk.

For as long as I can remember, I have had a weak immune system and constantly found myself in a doctor's office.  Medicine and I hung out quite a bit as childhood friends.  Not that medicine was harmful for my body, I just would have preferred empowering my body with natural remedies.  Thus when I was old enough to make my own decisions about my medical conditions, avoiding the doctor became a specialty and medicine was a last resort.  Marrying Otha affirmed the hope I had for a medicine free immune system.  Unlike the majority of the population, he grew up dodging vaccines, over the counter medications, and crappy foods in exchange for natural remedies.  If Otha feels like he is getting sick, he will first evaluate his diet.  Often times more discipline with what he is eating does the trick and if not he will focus on getting more sleep, exercising more, ya know... basic lifestyle things.  Most of us feel like we are getting sick and pop a few pills instead of considering not eating cake for dessert that night.  The worst of his medical struggles consists of the occasional allergies, but other than that he really does not get sick- super man.  Point being: our bodies are capable of functioning well when we focus on natural prevention and empowerment.  So the thought of going to the doctor for the birth was not at the top of my list... especially since IT'S NOT A SICKNESS.  Birthing a child is a completely natural process that women have been doing since the beginning of creation- waaay before anyone decided to be in the medical profession.  So why do we treat it like a sickness?  Why is our default to inject medicine in our bodies, when are bodies were made to push out a human free of intervention?  Why do we live in constant fear that something will go wrong so we must be close to a doctor who can fix it?  I am not saying it will not be painful.  Trust me, I am fully aware that my vagina will become the size of a cantaloupe and it will most likely be the most physical pain by body will ever go through.  But why do we feel the need to numb the process?  When you numb the pain, you numb the relief you feel when the baby comes out.  If my body is going to stretch out that much, I want to feel 100% of the difference when our baby is completely out in this world.  I want the highs and the lows. 

Whew.  Ok so that's just the simple- let's not treat birth like a sickness.  Moving on.  I do not want to be rushed in the birthing process.  If I am 2 weeks late and my labor is 30 hours (God willing this does not happen!) then my body and/or baby is not ready until then.  If the doctor's could have their way, I would have a scheduled date to induce birth on a day they have an opening in their schedule using their meds to make the process go quickly.  Check me off the list.  I would always wonder what it would have been like if I could have just waited a little bit longer until my body was ready.  We hear story after story about women who are either past their due date or their labor is taking longer than what is convenient for hospital staff.  Solution?  Pitocin!  Amniotomy!  C-Section!  Get that baby out of there!!  No thank you.  I’ll take my dear sweet time birthing a human when my body is ready.  No need to complicate things more than what is naturally already occurring in my body.  

Along those lines, I want the freedom to move in a way that is most comfortable for my body during labor.  Somehow, the concept of using gravity to help the baby exit the body has been lost in the system.  “Here lady- lay on a bed horizontally, even though gravity naturally pulls vertically, and push… and by the way don’t be surprised when we cut your perineum because of the whole horizontal-vertical battle going on in your body.”  I want to squat to open up my pelvis to let the baby come out.  Walking around as much as I need will be so helpful spurring on labor and when I sit, I have a choice where I sit.  Might as well give birth in a pool too.  The buoyancy of the water helps relieve the ever-present pressure of baby coming out along with providing a smoother transition for the baby entering into the world- fluid to fluid.   Choices, choices, choices!  I want to read my body and respond to its needs. 

I do not want strangers at the birth of our child - no offense strangers.  It's not an outlier experience for a doctor to be out when you go into labor and thus you have another doctor at your birth with whom you are not familiar.  I’m sure the second doctor is great.  But I don't know you second doctor.  And by the way, I don't know all of you nurses who are in and out of my room.  And you don't know me.  You don't know that I can drink room temperature gatorade way faster than water.  Or that I wanted to adopt all my children, but God completely transformed my heart and gave us a biological child.  Or that I am really bad at cooking.  It's not your fault, really, I do not blame you.  It's just that I want to know the people who will see me completely exposed in birth and I want them to know more about me than my blood pressure.  At the least, I want them to know my husband's name... before the moment that I go into labor.  Thus another reason for a midwife.  We have been SO SO SO blessed to have an incredible midwife who I know and who knows our family.  She comes to our apartment every visit, therefore seeing our home... seeing pieces of our lifestyle and personalities.  But is doesn't stop there; I know that she grew up on a farm and that she cares deeply about her sister and she has a contagious laugh.  She knows how I am feeling about having a child, that we once lived in Austin but God brought us back here, that we cherish our community.  We have built a relationship with her.  One of my favorite things about having a relationship with our care taker is that I can contact her at ANY time with ANY question.  During the first trimester I was having extreme cramps at work so I called her.  What did she do?  She came and brought me herbs, sat with me for two hours, then took me home so I wouldn't have to drive.  I'm sure there are doctors who care about their patients enough to want to do that, but logistically can't.  Our midwife can.  She can care for us to her full potential because she is passionate about God giving us life through children. 

In general, I don’t know how I can choose Natural Family Planning for birth control and then turn to the medical system for pregnancy and birth.  Otha and I both felt that my body was made to function in a natural way to tell me when I am fertile- temperature, discharge, positioning of the cervix, etc.  The signs are all there.  So we really wanted to be in tune with my body instead of adding more hormones (which we all know I do not need more of) through medicinal birth control.  We also felt passionately about not altering my cycle medically and hoping it would return to normal when we were ready to make biological children.  In the same way, my body was MADE to birth a child without medical intervention.  I cannot deny the intricate details of my body naturally triggering refluxes, releasing hormones, expanding, etc in order to birth a child.  Just look at pregnancy.  A woman’s body changes dramatically on its own.  And isn’t it interesting that pregnant women are advised to not take medication because of the effects it can have on both mom and baby?  The medicine considered safe by doctors available for pregnant women is limited… because our bodies were made to carry a baby intervention-free.  The trend thus continues: allow my body to function how it’s made to function naturally.  

I could obviously go on and on about why I am passionate about having a natural home birth.  Please don’t feel like I am knocking down the hospital system.  Although there are some things I do not agree with, I am so thankful for how the medical world helps people in need every single day.  The knowledge and technology available to save lives is incredible!  Let it also be known that I fully believe that C-Sections and medical interventions are necessary when there is a legitimate crisis.  I am 100% aware that I could have complications during my labor and end up giving birth in a hospital.  Yes, I would be disappointed, but it would not be the end of the world.  If our baby is born at the end of the experience, then I am thankful no matter where the event occurs.  However, with the choices I do have today at this moment, I am going to shoot for a home birth.   Birthing tub, music, and my own bed to climb into when it’s all over...yes please. 

Entangled In God's Love = Surprises

Written in October...

I love love love the picture Ryan Price took of our wedding rings entangled in the vines!  It's symbolic to me of how our love is wrapped in something entirely bigger than ourselves, sometimes confusing and messy, but always better than on our own.  In the same way that our rings our safely nestled into the vines, Otha and I are safely nestled into God's plan.

That being said, God's plan is completely unpredictable.  Yes, I believed it before... but still had this false idea of control and my idealistic plans held tightly.  

At the conference Together for Adoption that we recently attended, my desire to adopt was further cultivated into an eagerness.  I had a beautiful plan in my head of what the next 2 years would look like as we took steps towards growing our family.  I even told God whoever he wanted our adopted children to be, I was ok with that... age, ethnicity, sex, special needs.  But the key was I only surrendered our adopted children to Him.  It didn't take long for God to say "Why don't you really trust me with your family? What if I want to bless you with biological children too?"  UGH.  If you know me well, you know I have been set on adopting children for as long as I can remember.  But when it comes to popping out my own flesh and blood- I'll pass.  What a time for me that weekend to struggle with the Lord and finally say "Ok God, I have open hands to what you want to give."

Great timing.  Within two weeks of returning from the conference we discovered we were pregnant.  WHAT?!? As much of a shock this was, I can only imagine what my heart and mind would have done had the Lord not prompted me to be open to biological children days before.  He is so gracious!! 

After the flurry of phone calls and announcing the new baby simmered down, I began to freak out... and not in the "I'm so excited I am freaking out!" kind of way.  Confusion, frustration, and bitterness soon set in.  Why us Lord?  Why not choose a couple that is desperate to birth their own children?  Why didn't you give us more time?  But this, my friends, is how the Lord works with me.  I say something like- "hey God, I am totally willing to participate in your kingdom in _____ way.  I am ready when you are."  Then He replies with- "Great, I am glad you have the faith for that.  Now let me really test your faith by giving you the opposite."  Thus there is a human growing inside of me while there are countless children waiting to be adopted.  Praise God for His patience with me in these times of stubbornness, pride, and rebellion!!  Every. Single. Day.  He molds my heart and pries open my hand to replace my plan with His.  Have you ever had your had pried open?  Painful.  But in the end, God takes my ashes and replaces them with something beyond beautiful. 

Thank you Lord for entangling me SO MUCH in your love that you would bless us with a child. 

Manna

In the course of our 4 month marriage (we are pros, I know), God has rained down manna every day in the form of housing, jobs, finances... you name it and He provided.  Allow me to lay it out how God has showed us grace and provision:

HOUSING:

*My mom hosted us for a week after returning from our Honeymoon.

*The Hollis family let us live in their house free for over a month.

*The King family has opened their home to us the past few weeks until we move in on Friday.

*We found an apartment the first morning we began looking in Bryan... 2 bed/2bath $495 a month with all bills included except electricity.  It's in the exact location we wanted: walking distance from downtown Bryan, a block away from the Kings, and a diverse neighborhood.

So basically we have been living with no rent since June 12th and our first rent experience is going to be extremely affordable.  Praise God!

JOBS:

*My sister-in-law Christine had been babysitting for a family this past year, but needed to find a replacement in July since Christine was about to have her own baby.  Since we moved to Austin the beginning of July, it worked out so well for me to interview and fill in for Christine.  So I began working the first Monday we were in Austin- what a blessing!

*Otha shortly after found part time work with a family in Cedar Park.

*Then of course Otha received a call to interview for A&M Consolidated High School and was offered the job a few days later.  Go Tigers!

*After moving to Bryan, I applied to multiple jobs and hadn't heard anything back. Last week I was walking with my friend Jo and ran into a guy named Chris who I met last year at Kids Klub.  He informed me that there were still 4 spots left this year for Kids Klub and JC (a guy I worked with at College Hills) was doing the hiring.  A few hours later JC called asking if I wanted a job.  YES!  By the end of the day I had a job for M-F afternoons, Wed mornings, and working for Staci.

*At the beginning of September, I received a call offering me an interview with Early Head Start as a home visitor.  Interviewed, got the job a few days later, and began the second week of September.  LOVE MY JOB!!

We will hopefully be able to tackle some debt in the coming year!

FINANCES:

*Otha's mom has consistently sent money to bless us this summer and it has always come right in time!

*The first week we were in college station we had the opportunity to earn almost $200 just from babysitting jobs.

*The Hollis family blessed us with money when we moved out.

*Despite Otha's car dying, my parents had blessed us with an account they had kept for me since I was very young.  So we were able to buy a used car avoiding all debt!

*Now that both Otha and I have jobs for CSISD, the district covers all of our insurance costs!

Over and over, God has provided money right when we need to pay for something.  He is so faithful!

I have learned a whole new level of trusting God's provision, especially when the numbers just don't add up.  My faith is continually growing as He provides and as Otha challenges me to always trust that God is sovereign.  Hallelujah for our faithful God!!!

Hello Again Blog World...

My last attempt at blogging began with a simple desire to keep people informed during my time at SAMBICA between my sophomore and junior year of college.  Although it was helpful for a season, my dedication to the blog quickly plummeted.  The top of my to-do list never tells me to blog... it tells me to do the dishes, send a birthday card, go to the grocery story.  However, several times a day my brain screams "GET THESE THOUGHTS OUT OF MY HEAD".  I have kept many journals in my time, but my hand never seems to keep up with fast paced thoughts... overall, deterring me from any attempt to record what I am thinking/feeling.

So here I am.  A new season of life, fresh events, and overall more time to sit down and process.