Raging, Ranting, Raving, and Rhapsodizing

For three months we've been debating about whether to do a home birth or go to a birthing center, since I'm not considering a hospital birth.  Much of this decision hinges on what kind of home we'll be living in in January.

You may remember a post a post a few months ago in which I decried Facebook's irritating advertising tactics, specifically, them deciding it was time for me to have a baby.

You see, Facebook advertising works on two principles: your demographic (age, sex, location, etc.) and what they know about you based on your bio, wall posts, etc.  So, FB knows I am a female living in Colorado between the ages of 18 and 30.  They also know what kind of music and books and movies and activities I like.  Thus, I usually get ads encouraging me to get pregnant, buy hiking boots, and go to Coldplay concerts.

What I'm saying is that, at the time of the aforementioned post, FB had no idea that Stephen and I were, in fact, very much hoping to get one of those cute little plus signs on a pee stick (but not because FB told me to).  On Mother's Day, I happily got such a result and have been celebrating ever since.  We went about personally sharing the good news with family and close friends.

My due date is set at January 12th, and both my nephews are certain that there's a girl growing in my rapidly expanding belly.  We had a great conversation with my 4 year old nephew, wherein he explained how he knew the sex of my baby:

Us: How did you know it was a girl?
Him: I just knew... I saw her.
Us: Awesome.  How did you see her?
Him: (in a 'don't be silly!' tone of voice) I had an x-ray!
Us: Wow.  Did she wave at you?
Him: No.
Us: What was she doing?
Him: Nothing.  She didn't see me... she wasn't looking at me.

Obviously, a lot of things are changing right now.  One thing that hasn't changed much is my Facebook experience.  They've been pitching pregnancy at me for at least a year.  But as soon as they found out via an announcement on my wall, the ads got worse.  Just now I logged on and on the sidebar were three ads: A gender predictor, a week-by-week pregnancy guide, and an invitation to join some mommy networking group.  Every time I log on, I'm greeted by pregnant bellies and baby pictures and blah blah blah.

So, I'm beyond thrilled that we'll soon be welcoming the newest member of our family.  I'm two weeks away from my second trimester, I feel wonderful, and I'm having a lot of fun.  But there's a little part of me, deep down inside, that can't help but feel like Facebook won.

Today, dear readers, my husband and I celebrate three spectacular years of marriage, and look forward to many more.

And I'm not just saying that.  It has been wholly and completely phenomenal.  At the risk of sounding cheesy, let me brag on my handsome husband for a moment.  Stephen makes everything more fun; he's honest and completely trustworthy; he's unflinchingly supported everything I've wanted to do; he doesn't take himself too seriously; he puts me before himself and always has my best in mind.  We're happy together, and our relationship has been easy.  And I think a lot of people, whether single, dating, engaged, or married, really need to hear something positive about the institution of marriage.

So, if you will permit me, I'd like to share my point of view on matrimony.  Many an engaged or newly married couple has heard some part or variation of this diatribe speech, as I give it regularly and without invitation.  Subsequently, many a couple has remarked how refreshing it is to hear a success story; we're lucky enough to have some great examples in our lives of happy and functional married couples, whom we've tried our best to emulate.

When you are engaged or newly married, a host of well-intentioned family, friends, and even total strangers will make it their business to share with you all manner of advice, suggestions, and personal experiences in order to prepare you for the road ahead.  In my case (and I suspect in many others), more often than not this advice tended toward discouragement; this, I contend, is human nature.  I think when people have a negative experience they almost relish the chance to project it onto someone else, that they might justify it to themselves, thereby making their experience normal.

Whether from these well meaning friends and family, from strangers, from sitcoms and movies, from books, or even from sermons in church, many of us grow up expecting all kinds of ridiculous things about relationships, weddings, marriage, and even gender roles, like:

• The wedding will be stressful.  You probably won't remember it.
• The first year will definitely suck.  Hard.
• Having kids will make everything suck harder.
• Look out for the seven year slump.
• Don't expect to love each other or even like each other all the time.  It comes and goes, you know.
• Women will be controlling and manipulative, and will nag their husbands mercilessly.
• Men are terrified of commitment, so if you manage to snag one, he'll be emotionally distant and probably unfaithful.
• Essentially, marriage is a series of fights, one long struggle, full of sacrifice and disappointment.

Ok, so maybe I'm being kind of dramatic about it, but seriously- I've heard this kind of crap proffered 'helpfully' by fellow Christians, and we're the ones that go on and on about the sanctity of marriage.  We've also been told on multiple occasions, "Oh, of course you're still in love.  You're just newlyweds."  Psssh... no wonder half of us get divorced.  That kind of relationship is boring and hopeless.

I'm happy to tell you that it doesn't have to be like that!  You and your spouse get to decide for yourselves what your relationship will look like.  I'm proud to say that Stephen and I have never in three years had a fight that we didn't completely resolve within half an hour... that's a legacy we intend to uphold.  We communicate about everything, keep no secrets and harbor no bitterness, have no unspoken expectations.  We've been intentional about the way we treat, talk to, and talk about the other.  We act in humility, rather than pride.  And it's been easy.  It's been so easy that we sometimes feel guilty and embarrassed talking with other couples for whom it hasn't been easy.

I'm not saying it'll be sunshine and lollipops for everyone.  All I'm saying is this: don't let anyone tell you what your relationship is going to look like.  Sure, sometimes I've had a long day and treating Stephen with love and respect is more a decision than something I just do instinctively.  I'm sure challenges will come up in our lives together.  We'll have the added responsibilities of kids, we'll have tight budgets, we'll have stressful circumstances.  But Stephen and I have settled internally that we aren't going to let any outside factors determine the quality or working of our relationship.  So, here's to many more years of better and better!