Life and Death and Numbers

Farrah Fawcett was 62. Michael Jackson was 50. My dad is turning 69 on Sunday, and just found out the growth that was removed from his voicebox Wednesday was cancer. The surgeon thinks he removed all of it, and the prognosis at this point is good. Radiation treatments will begin in a couple weeks after Dad's throat has healed from the surgery.

Everyone knows the end will come, for our loved ones, for us. Yet it still manages to surprise us. We live like it will never happen, pushing the inevitable far to the back of our minds. And yet we will surely die. Are we ready? What number will we make it to? 96? 54? 33? 18? Who will rescue us from this body of death? We can have hope in Jesus who conquered death. He died to pay the penalty for our sins (to fulfill the requirements of justice), and rose from the grave to new life (so that we might have that life, too). He promises eternal life for all who believe in Him. There is hope in place of despair. Are you ready?

Blue Dog Confession

Will has been missing Blue Dog recently. Blue Dog, you might remember, is a tiny blue plastic dog that Will used to take everywhere, and who has gone missing many times. He was lost again a couple months ago, much to everyone's dismay. But it seemed that Jon and I were more distressed than Will at the time. So when I found BD in Will's closet, Jon and I decided to hide him for posterity and for our own peace of mind. Blue Dog is safe and sound in a little dish in my room, though poor Will thinks he's missing. And every once in a while Will talks about BD and I say "I'm sure he's around here somewhere." Is that just terrible or what? I feel sad for Will and guilty for my secret, but what about all the time we've spent searching for the little piece of plastic? Can we risk losing him again? Won't it be cool to bring him out later in the future and reminisce? Have I lost my mind that I've spent so much time contemplating the fate of a small plastic dog?

Story of our Breastfeeding Challenge

Ok, so Evan is now almost eight weeks old and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. We've had challenges (to say the least) with breastfeeding, but he is doing much better. Evan was unable to latch properly, for some reason, until he was six weeks old. We worked with a wonderful lactation consultant who provided great advice and encouragement. Our routine was to nurse Evan, then pump, and then cup-feed him the milk that was pumped - a process taking 45 minutes to an hour - every two to three hours. It was very difficult to keep up with - especially with Anna (5) and Will (3) running around - but I had help from friends and family. Still I was pretty much tied to the house, in an endless cycle of feeding or getting ready to feed the baby.

Someone asked me why I stuck with it for so long, and the reasons are many... First, I know that breastmilk is the best food for babies, and researchers are always finding new benefits for both baby and mom. Also, I had breastfed Anna and Will, so I knew it could be done. Convenience - I can't imagine having to pack up formula, prepare it, wash bottles over and over. Frugality - have you seen how much formula costs?! Why spend that money when I have a free supply of the best food anyway? Stubbornness - I had decided, and could not give in to quitting no matter how discouraged I became.

I am happy to say that Evan is now eating like a champ - it was well worth the effort! So maybe our story can encourage someone else to stick with it if they are struggling with breastfeeding. Get expert help right away if you need it - there are different techniques and aids available to help you make it work. Oddly enough, breastfeeding does not necessarily come naturally or easily, though it really seems to me that it should! There are enough immediate and long-term benefits for baby and mom to make it worth any trouble. For a good website on the subject go to http://www.drjacknewman.com/.