Satan is so mean...

I knew it was going to happen sooner or later.
It always does.
When God is doing amazing things.
Awesome things.
Things that rejuvenate and encourage and bring hope.
Big things.
Things that just couldn't be possible without His hand.
That's when he shows up.
The one that comes only to kill and steal and destroy.
I knew he would show up eventually.
But I didn't know how.
And I didn't know when.
But he did...

Last night, Ross and I thought it would be fun to take the kids to church. On Wednesday nights, our church has a yummy $2 dinner and then different classes for different ages. We volunteer with the highschoolers. I wanted to my girls to get to see her. And I wanted to get out of the house. And I wanted a yummy $2 dinner : )

So we loaded up the kids and went. It felt like we were bombarded in the parking lot. Lots of oohhs and aahhs. Lots of questions. Lots of "you're crazy"s. Several women told me that they had read our story and were touched or moved or had laughed and cried. I was encouraged by the joy that Genevieve was bringing to all these people. Babies are such blessings!

And then we started hearing other comments:

"My son said you better not tell Genevieve she was born in the toilet. Kids will make fun of her at school."

"Someone asked me how the poop baby was doing."

"They said she was born in the toilet. What does that mean? Was it like that TV show I Didn't Know I was Pregnant?"

I find out the youth pastor had decided to share our story with the whole youth group while I was nursing Genevieve. His synopsis: She was born in the toilet, but she's okay.

I overhear a college student telling his girlfriend, "Yeah, that's Ross and Dru-Lynn's baby. Apparently she was born in the..." I don't care that I'm eavesdropping. I touch his shoulder and ask him to stop. "Please. Don't. That's not the most important part." He agrees to read my blog before he shares my story.

Seriously, people? This is all that you can grasp from that story? That she was born in the toilet?

So this bothers me greatly. (Ironically, I haven't really thought through that part before. Again, call me crazy- but when you have a beautiful baby girl to love and care for... you don't think about people making fun of her.)

Then we get home and it's time to nurse again and I can NOT get her latch on the left side. She had been doing so well- but she decided she won't do it. We go through several feedings of her screaming- horrifically- instead of eating. She's fine on the right side, but stubborn on the left. Meanwhile, it's really beginning to hurt- both my breast and my heart.

Finally, at 2am, she latches and eats. I start whispering thanks to God for His help. For answering that prayer. For a baby that nurses well. And then I get a vision in my head of 5 year old Genevieve with cute pigtails. She comes up to me crying- telling me the kids at church are making fun of her because she was born in the toilet. Then another vision. This time she's 15 and tall and beautiful and she says I've ruined her life by birthing her in the toilet.

And I look down at my 3-day-old newborn, latching so well and humongous tears start dripping down my face. "Don't make fun of her!" I whisper. Ross was dozing off next to me, sees my tears and panics. "What's wrong?" I tell him it's not the nursing. It's the teasing. Why won't people leave my baby alone?

Then I start feeling emotional about Ross. I'm angry at him. For no reason. I feel disappointed and alone. And... I tell myself to snap out of it. He is wonderful and present and loving. Snap out of it.

And all of this. The toilet talk; the nursing troubles; the unfair thoughts towards Ross- all of it- is Satan trying to kill and steal and destroy. Trying to rob God of the glory He deserves for protecting us and loving us and blessing us. Trying to rob me of the joy that God wants to overflow in my heart.

I tell Satan to stop it. Leave me alone. Quit it. I ask Jesus to fight against him so that I can rest. And I fall fast asleep...

I know that His attacks are not finished. They've really just begun. But I know that God is greater. That His glory can not be squelched. That I have His Word to fight Satan's lies with.

Would you pray for my heart? That it wouldn't be overwhelmed. That it would not give a moment's thoughts to Satan's lies, but instead, fight them off with TRUTH. Please also pray for rest. He knows I'm tired- and weak. But I know that God never sleeps and is strong.

One more request. If you find yourself relaying our story to someone, could you summarize it like this: "I have a friend who had her baby girl at home last Sunday. She didn't mean to. But God had a plan and He was there and He kept them safe. The baby's name is Genevieve. She is a blessing to her family and God has big plans for her life."

Please. Don't say anything about the toilet.

: )