Survival Mode

Time is flyin' by (probably because I spend less time asleep and the grogginess has taken over my mental clock). Abby has officially outgrown her newborn GMD fitteds, which is totally cool with me because the small GMD's have extra layers that hold in her heavy wetness better, and she's starting to have longer stretches of being awake! Does it matter that she wants to nurse constantly while awake? Probably, but I'll save my groaning and appreciate the fact that her nursing more means she's growing. Oh yeah- I also have a 3 year old and an 18 month old who for the past couple of days have been sick... and guess who else got it? Yup. Yours truly.

So I've been praying that the littlest little doesn't get what we've got and so far she seems to be doing well. Last night she officially initiated me and this chunky white spit up ended up all over my shirt and chest. Fun. After the first week of being by myself and getting along pretty well, I expected this week to be better. I was wrong. Abby has decided for the past few nights that she wanted to wake up every hour and the kids have decided to not nap when she naps during the day. I've been in sleep deprivation mode, dragging myself through the daytime and wishing I could get 4 hours of sleep straight (without waking up super duper full to a screaming baby). When I think "I can't take this anymore!" something ends up happening that makes me think "I can either be thankful for this craziness or I can go insane." Last night when all three children decided to join together in the whining and crying, I had that kinda moment. I decided to be thankful and that made me feel alot better. Today I had that moment again when I wanted to get dinner in the crockpot, breakfast on the table, and the kiddos had other plans. "Mommy- I wanna watch Grandma Bunny (a Veggie tales DVD)- Phoebe." "WWWwwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!! (I wanna nurse!!!!- Abby)." and of course "WWWWwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!! (I'm hungry too!!!- Stephen)." I'm thankful at least ONE of the three can actually talk. What did I do? I nursed Abby (she can't hold on as long as the others), I put dinner in the crockpot, nursed Abby again, made bacon&egg tacos, sat the kiddos down, ate, got Abby out of her bassinet, ate my food, nursed Abby again, and cleaned up the post-breakfast mess. Abby's down for her nap, it's almost lunch time, and I actually had a few moments to fold diapers and laundry and put a load in the washing machine. Dishes are somewhere on my mental to-do list along with a nap and shower. I should call it my "wish" list. 

I was checking Facebook also while the two were playing nicely in the living area and I thought to myself, "I so don't know what the heck I'm doing." Will I ever figure this whole mom thing out? Probably not completely, but I'd like to think that maybe one day I'll stop flying by the seat of my pants and actually get a system in place. This past Sunday I received a gift from a sister at the chapel... a HUGE book about home management with multiple children. The more I read the book the more discouraged I became because I thought to myself, "How am I going to implement any of this while attempting to not pass out during the day?". How do I get it together when I can't seem to get my brain in order? The biggest thing that stood out as I continued to read was, "It takes time, but even more importantly- you can't do it alone. Give each moment to God and pray without ceasing." I'm not a good pray-er. I'm a great talker ironically, but something happens when I'm quiet and talking to God and I just seem to start thinking more and praying less. Focus is something I struggle with immensely (unless it comes to housework- sad I know). It's like I have ADD when I pray. A simple morning prayer can go something like this:

       Dear Father God, Thank you for a couple hours of sleep and thank you for my family. (I've gotta wake up Bubba so he won't go poop in his diaper.) Forgive me for getting angry with my husband for such and such. (Oh I need to take the trash out... where did Larry put the big trash can?) Help me to not go crazy today and help me to be patient with the kiddos. (Ugh- Abby's awake! Need to get blah blah blah done so I won't forget about it later. OH there's Phoebe. .... BUbba's awake- I'd better get him up now. Gotta nurse Abby before she goes into severe fit mode.) Thank You God for grace and I WILL talk with You later- please let the kids take a nap together at the same time. Bless Larry at work and bring him home safely. Amen. (rush off to start my day)

So- yep... you can see why I feel like I'm flying by the seat of my pants. Chaos from the first moment each child wakes up. This is not how I was meant to live. I feel like I"m merely surviving each moment of every day and my husband and kiddos are the ones to pay for it. I feel like a total screw up most of the time. I can't get anything right and I beat myself up inside because I feel like my kids are going to hate me one day for being such a failure. You can only imagine what I feel like when someone says, "You're super mom!" I think "Oh if you only knew how much of a fake I feel like right now." and smile this little awkward smile. I know you are your own worst critic, but sometimes I can't imagine how anyone could think I, the one who can't figure this parent thing out, am anywhere near a decent parent. But then God graciously reminds me to look at my children. They are happy, healthy (most of the time), and they really love each other. I'm glad that them growing up into wonderful women and man doesn't solely depend on me (although I have a pretty important part of it). 

Lunch time... here we go. Abby's still asleep thankfully, and the kids are watching Curious George (more like playing with the noise in the background). Lunch time... and more time to redeem. For y'all who think that you to are flying by the seat of your pants... we should really get together... or not. There might not be enough room for all of us.

Cloth Diapering Adventure: Nursing Journey

Now that I've settled into the crazy newborn stage, I've been thinking of two very huge aspects of this part of child-rearing. Two things that I have felt very inadequate in, but so far have been wonderful experiences. For those of you who don't know, I've been using cloth diapers from moment one on my sweet little Abby. She has a stash of 4 AIO's (all in ones) in pink, 8 GMD fitteds in newborn, and 24 small unbleached birdseye flats (also from GMD). Of course the stash is complete with four wraps and one snappi. I've actually ordered two more from Amazon.com and they should be arriving in the next week (I lost two of the ones I ordered a couple months ago). My findings on cloth diapering my Abby... it's easiest to use the newborn fitteds out and about with a wrap (like when we went to church on Sunday). Abby is a serious wet machine so the AIO's don't hold up for her. They leak like crazy. I usually use these at night when she's up every hour or so. During the day I use the wonderfully glorious FLATS! They are super absorbent and she's only leaked out of them a few times (usually if she's taken a 3 hour nap in the middle of the day). I never realized how wonderful flats could be and how incredibly easy they are to use! Maybe it's just me, but I feel uber earth-friendly and money smart each time I change her diaper. It's a little perk of cloth-ing. I feel like I could give a class on flats, but I know the folding is still a work in progress. Pride wells up in this novice as I think to myself, "I've yet to put a disposable on my baby's undefiled skin."

The other major part of newborn reality for me is breastfeeding. After a 36 hour bout with engorgement, realizing that nipple shields are a bad thing for let-down, and finally getting the hang of this whole latch thing... I must say we are doing really well. Actually, I am doing SSOOOOOOOO much better than with my other two. I actually enjoy the moments when I have an excuse to just sit back and relax. But there are alot of things that I have learned from this short time of nursing Abby...

1) Weight will come off with time and actively trying to lose weight while nursing is counterproductive in the long term. (I've lost 20 lbs of the total 45 lbs I gained in pregnancy and it'll probably be at least 6 more months before the rest comes off... AND I'm totally okay with that).
2) My goal of 3000 calories per day is something I will struggle with immensely. If I don't have enough calories from food, my body will get it from my muscle tissue and well... bad things can happen (like my metabolism being shot after I finish this journey). You try doing that with two very active kiddos and a baby and trying to keep a decent house all while trying to keep your sanity intact. Can anyone say- Itzbeen to remind me that I need to eat?
3) Each time Abby is at the breast- it's like I'm going for a jog... suh-weet!
4) Pumping is a no-go for the first 6-8 weeks. This applies to me because I stay at home and don't need to build up a stash of milk for when I return to work. Pumping for me will inhibit the nursing pattern that will be necessary for later success (say 6-8 months from now).
5) Latch IS important. Not only is Abby able to extract more milk, I won't be sore later. Yay!
6) High protein high calorie food is a MUST. Low calories make for skim milk. Babies don't bulk up on skim milk. I like protein. :-) Abby is already gaining weight- yay! :-D

 I feel more ready for this aspect of my relationship with Abby. I'm not freaking out about every single drop or how much she needs to gain. I have educated myself as much as I can on the subject and I've asked (and will probably ask many more in the future) lots of good questions. I have a good support system in place and I'm better prepared for the inevitable bumps in the road.

So I'm sitting here eating, pears with cottage cheese, whole wheat bread slices with pralinutta, and my extra large olives are next... oh and I can't forget my trusty water bottle. :-) I'll probably need to make a good grocery list for later. Yum. :-) I <3 grocery shopping! :-D

A Week Already?!

A week ago I was watching a movie with the hubby before hittin' the hay. I woke up a few hours later in full blown transition. So... lots has happened in a week. My list of "happened" goes like this:

-Abby is born.
-We begin the journey of breastfeeding.
-Milk comes in end of day 2.
-Severe engorgement. Tylenol, Motrin, and ice packs make the process a little less unbearable. (and I thought labor was tough! At least THAT wasn't prolonged pain!)
-Engorgement eases almost 36 hours later.
-The worrying begins when the number of poops and pees doesn't meet the "normal" (and we're still worrying)
-Find out that the nipple shield that helps me nurse is preventing "let down" and the shield is banned. Let the REAL pain begin.
-Breastfeeding au natural is established.
-The fullness starts decreasing (thank the Lord!)
-Abby goes for a 3 hour stretch at night... twice.
-Co-sleeping is actually a good thing for us- she sleeps longer than half an hour that way. (and so do I!)
-My body still looks pregnant. Oh yeah, I kinda forgot about that whole "tire" look around the middle.
-Phoebe and Stephen absolutely love Abby. There are perks to having them so close. :-)
-I'm becoming the human pacifier (sometimes every 15 minutes for an hour or so- especially in the evenings)
-I'm trying to rest when she does, but alas... it seems impossible after the kiddos are awake.
-My mother-in-law has been staying with us since Sunday night. All I can say is, "How in the world did I do without her with my first two?"
-Stephen had vomiting and the runs for a couple days. He finally solidified and he's now a happy Bubba.
-Our power went out last night. Our first car trip to Target was not so great, but the A/C inside made up for the not so happy Abby. We got home to no power, but CPS got their tail in gear and in less than an hour after that we had power back on. Whew! I have no idea how people do without A/C  in the summer- I was about to pass out.
-Abby has yet to poop yellow... praying that this occurs sometime tomorrow (tonight would be great).
-Abby had her first bath and now I have a nice and clean little baby.
-My sanity is still intact. :-)

Didn't realize how much can go on in the week after a baby is born.  My body is still aching, but after 10 months of growing and stretching... I suppose it'd be unreasonable to expect everything to go back to "normal" after a few days. We're doing well. It's crazy, but worth it. Sometimes I want to fast forward to being normal again, but then again that pause button seems just as tempting. :-)
-I've yet to use a disposable diaper on her. So nice. :-)

Abigail Olivia Kreusel

I'm still reeling from the events that took place over the past 36 hours so please bear with me...

My last post was written on the eve of my due date around 11pm. That following morning my water broke at 3:13am. I turned to Larry, poked him a few times, and said almost in a whisper, "My water broke." I can't quite remember the facial expression that followed because I was up and rushing to the bathroom. I barely made it over the toilet when this rush of fluid drenched my undies. Yikes and yikes again! I called my midwife who said, "Get some rest. We may have a while before birth." I thought to myself, "Haha- yeah right. My labor started within two hours with my son." For those of you who don't know- all my labors were preceded by my water breaking which is rare. Approximately 17% of women's water breaks before labor starts. This has happened to me with ALL of my babies. Fun fun fun. So I was expecting labor to start that morning and that we'd have a baby by the end of the day. Boy was I wrong...

Contractions started and stopped, started and stopped, started and stopped. The kiddos were picked up by Larry's parents and we were off to walk at Target to try and start labor. After Target, we ate lunch, and took a nap. Contractions started and stopped. At 5pm we were at the San Antonio Birth Center discussing risks, paper work, and possibilities. At that point we were 15 hours post rupture and it was also at this time I started to recall my first labor and delivery where, 26 hours post rupture, we went to the hospital and Phoebe was born health (Praise God!). Fear crept into my thoughts and I'm pretty sure there was a correlation between stalled labor and my fear. My midwife (who was also one of my midwives with Phoebe) reminded me that each labor is different. With Phoebe, we didn't know the GBS results, she was 37 weeks, and I was hardly dilated. With Abby, we were GBS negative which meant we could stay outside of a hospital for an extended period of time as long as the baby and I were doing well., her head was engaged, I was dilated to a 4, and had reached my due date. Two very different circumstances, but similar in some ways. I needed to focus on the differences instead of expecting the same results. We checked Abby and she was doing wonderfully. I was hydrated and ready for dinner and with some rest I would be ready for labor.

We left around 6pm and rented a movie- something to keep my mind off things until they turned serious. Once again- we reached our house where the contractions started and stopped. We fell asleep at 11pm and at 3 Larry woke me up to take my temperature and so I could do my hibiclens rinse (I was instructed to do this every six hours since we were more than 18 hours post rupture. We fell back asleep right afterwards because all I could think of was "I want to sleep."

My midwife would later compare what happened next to large amounts of water being released from a dam. I woke up at 3:30am in the middle of a contraction and on top of that I felt a HUGE "kick" that resonated downwards. I got up and went to the bathroom, sat on the toilet and couldn't stay seated. I stood up, wrapped my arms around Larry's neck and hung there in a squatting position. That was the only thing that could "help". Actually nothing could lessen the pain, but this was the most comfortable position in which to withstand the pain. I had pitocin induced contractions with my other two. These contractions were WORSE than those. They didn't feel anything like natural contractions! The pain caused me to moan and with tears streaming down my face I literally thought I was going to die. Larry and I got into the shower and the water helped, but didn't do enough to make me believe I could survive this onslaught. Larry got out, called my midwife and explained that my contractions were coming 2-3 minutes apart (I only had 4 contractions since I woke up). I was leaning against the wall, squatting, moaning, and begging God to help me. The midwife instructed Larry to start filling the birth tub and my hot water went caput. I was shivering and writhing in pain. Larry put his robe on me and I proceeded to sit on the toilet. 1-2 contractions and I exclaimed, "I need to poop!" Larry immediately called the midwife and explained that he was sure Abby would be here before she was. My midwife instructed him to get me to the bed ASAP. I'm screaming at this point- the pain seemed unbearable. He got me off the toilet, off all fours, and somehow managed to drag me to the mattress in our living room. The pain induced by the contractions were replaced by this burning sensation- I can't explain how awful it was. In the back of my mind I was sure I was going to rip to shreds. I put my hand to feel what was going on an sure enough- Abby's head was ready to come out. Larry put the phone next to my head on the bed so that I could hear my midwife calmly saying, "Breathe Libby. Breathe your baby out." This wasn't the "Count to 10" pushing. This was "my body is forcing me to push" pushing. When the urge left, I breathed deeply and desperately tried to keep from crying. Larry was waiting to catch Abby as I was waiting for the next urge. Her head popped out (after what seemed an eternity) after three urges and her body followed with that last urge. I had never felt such relief AND sensitivity before in my LIFE! Abby was born at 4:22am... approximately 10-12 contractions and less than an hour later. My midwives arrived a few minutes afterwards.

My midwife explained that my labor was so hard because it was so short and if I had a longer labor it would've been much more manageable. She also said that I probably shouldn't have a home birth again. I was and still am completely in awe of what happened. Abby was born healthy and wonderfully pink. It amazes me that she weighed in at 8lbs 7oz- the biggest of all my babies. I survived her birth (obviously) and I remained intact. No stitches, no damage except for a "rug burn" from Abby's passage out which will probably heal within 48 hours. A sheer miracle all things considered. I was even able to urinate 3 times before the midwives left. I have never felt so good after birth. No numbness, no monitors, no worrying, and no letting Abby out of my sight. Although the MOST excrutiatingly painful experience of my entire life, it was also the best labor and delivery. I could eat and drink whatever and whenever I felt the need arise. I wasn't strapped to a bed, I could shower, I was able to live in the moment (even though I truly thought I was going to die), and Abby's birth was attended by only myself and my husband. He did great- I couldn't have asked for a better birth coach, partner, and "catcher". :-)

What did I learn from this? Well, I'll have to save that for another blog entry. All I can say is that God once again has been merciful, faithful, and powerful. I am so thankful for all my friends and family who were praying us through our last leg of this journey. It's time for me to get some rest now and bask in the cuteness and cuddles from my sweet little baby girl who happens to be worth all the waiting and pain. Welcome to our world Abigail Olivia Kreusel! :-)

40 Weeks

Friday, August 12th, 2011. This is my due date according to date of conception (VERY sure of that) and according to the sonogram done at 20 weeks (the most accurate time to have a sonogram). Unfortunately the odds of my dear Abby being born on her due date are slim- approximately 5%. Here I am, it's 10:49pm on August the 11th, 2011, thinking back on these past 40 weeks (maybe 34-35 weeks of actually "knowing"). What a crazy journey this has been for me and I do pity the people who have been able to keep up with my groanings and moanings during this time frame. I've gone from excited and extremely nauseated (and skinny) to depressed and anxious, and back to excited and nauseated (but this time very large) with a little bit of anxiety still looming about. This journey has seen my body go from a lean 125lbs to a rather plump physique of 168lbs (and I'm guessing Abby makes up about a fifth of the total weight gained) and in the next 6-9 months hopefully I'll see that 125 again (maybe). Emotionally I'm a wreck, physically I'm a wreck, but in my soul... *sigh* oh my soul. 

This has been the toughest experience I have faced in my walk with the Lord. Only God knows how much I have fought Him, the proverbial "kicking and screaming", for the duration of Abby's short life. I went into this pregnancy thinking how wonderful it would be and dreaming of more children after my new little son was born. Son?! No- it's a GIRL! WHAT?! Wonderful?! No- I have prenatal depression. More children?! Hahaha- God's still working with me on this one. I, being completely honest, told God that if He were to make me barren after this child- I would TOTALLY be fine with that. That's coming from a woman who wants a big family (originally). I can't express how all of those expectations were dashed to pieces... and to add injury to insult (not really)... I was expecting an "early" baby. My first was born at 37 weeks 3 days (LMP). My second was born exactly at 39 weeks (LMP). Here I am staring down the throat of 40 weeks- yay I made it to my due date! (total sarcasm). I've surprised even my midwives! haha! And for those who don't realize my original due date was the 9th (yeah- only 3 days separate my due dates which is nice I guess)- I could technically be considered over due, but I'm not even gonna go there- not until Saturday. Everything I had in my head at the beginning has been thoroughly crushed, obliterated, and blown away, but here I am. Pregnancy is not one of those things you have control over in any way. Sure you can eat all the right stuff, avoid all the bad stuff, and somehow still manage to have a rough go at it. The one thing you go to bed praying for each night (after 37 weeks) is "Let tonight be the night!" with a "And let her be born healthy!". You wake up at 4am to nothing and go to bed frustrated and disappointed. You take the kids over to their grandparents' house 3 times for an average duration of 2 nights each stay and they come back to a still very pregnant and annoyed Mommy. AND at your 39 week appointment you get a cervical massage which works 2/3rds of the time, but for you... it just gave you a false sense of "this is it!" and once again your hopes go up in flames. Fun times. You begin to think that you might be like this forever. Fortunately- that's not going to happen. She HAS to come out at some point... right?

Today while the kids were taking their nap, I asked my husband if we had settled on her name. To my surprise- he said no. Well I thought he liked her name, but apparently not all of it. After an hour of him saying a name and my response (usually a "no") we agreed on her full name (not like you can change her last name though). BUT... and here's the kicker... we won't know "for sure" until we see her little face. Tonight I thought to myself, "I'm glad she's not here yet or we would've had a very serious and heated name discussion or she would've been named something not meant for her." Actually... every day this week has given me a reason to say, "I'm glad she's not here yet or I would've missed  "such & such"." I guess there's a reason she's not here yet and it might NOT be that she's simply "not ready". I'm leaning more towards, "God's still got something to teach me, tell me, or get through my very thick skull." My mind has been so blinded by the circumstances and pity for myself, self-loathing, or what-not that I haven't been able to really grasp hold of anything. Here I am nearing my due date and FINALLY I can see just a wee bit of what I should've seen all along... that my God is a MERCIFUL God, a LOVING God, and a FAITHFUL God. He is the Creator of life and the One who calls this child out. I can't do anything except trust that He knows what He's doing and that it is a GOOD thing! I needed to give up whatever control I convinced myself I had a LONG time ago. So here I am staring at 40 weeks with these wonderful revelations and wondering how I could've been so lame brained to forget and ignore these truths. 

In the bible, both Old and New Testaments, I've seen 40 days in lots of places. Noah was in the ark 40 days and 40 nights and Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days. In Noah's case it was a period of judgement (the Flood) and in Jesus' case it was a time of separation, preparation for His earthly ministry, and focus, followed by temptation. I'd like to think that these 40 weeks for me have been a mixture of both. Judging my true intentions, motivations, the reality of my heart (scary!), and at the same time preparing me for what lies ahead of me. Being a mom is tough. Being a mom of two little ones is difficult. Being the mom of three... I can scarcely imagine. But motherhood is what I was called to. Staying at home with my babies, homeschooling eventually, and raising them in the way of the Lord... this is serious stuff! I didn't have children because they are cute and I love baby hair rubbing against my face (oh how I look forward to baby hair!). I had children because that was the longing of my heart, a desire planted deeply by God who knows the REAL me! Sometimes I wonder what in the world He was thinking when He gave ME, of all people, children. Yikes- yes, pity my children. 

I don't know what lies ahead. I'm praying for a healthy baby and a safe delivery, but I'm not guaranteed either one. I'm praying for the complete absence of depression after Abby arrives, but who knows... I might still have a few lessons to learn from this circumstance. Whatever comes, whatever happens, whatever I may still endure.. one thing I know for sure is that God never changes. And THAT is something to be happy about. :-)

Practice For The Empty Nest?!

Last night Larry took the kiddos over to Grandma and Grandpa's house (their favorite place on the planet apparently) which meant no crying in the middle of the night (Bubba), no "I gotta go potty!" for the umptienth time (Phoebe), and a decent amount of sleep for me (5 hours with potty breaks- Holla!). Sounds like a great time for everyone, right? I mean, I woke up to a clean and quiet house for once in what seemed like an eternity! I also woke up crying. The quiet seemed unnatural and the cleanliness reminded me that I had no little people to wake me up in the morning. How could this be?! Wasn't it just yesterday that I was thinking to myself, "I am physically and mentally exhausted and these kids are just grating on my nerves! Get them to their grandparents' house ASAP so I can have SOME peace." I downright had had enough of my own children, but here I am crying because I had to wake up and spend time ALONE in an empty house because Larry had to work and the kids are thoroughly enjoying themselves without me. I haven't done that since I was, well... pregnant with Phoebe. Usually if I have "me" time- it's ME who leaves the house! There's something wrong with this picture. I should be basking in and relishing this relaxation and "peace".

I was rudely reminded of something this morning. The craziness, the mess, the screaming and hair pulling (from the kids), the crying (me), and the unrest (everyone)... all these things were part of the package deal when I first saw those two lines on the pregnancy test almost 4 years ago. This is what God thought I could handle when He, in His grace and love, gave me children. My tears stemmed from a heart that sincerely loves my children and honestly I would've given anything I own to hear my daughter say, "Mommy- Bubba's awake!" this morning. I know they are doing just fine and are probably having so much fun with their uncles and grandparents not even thinking about the agony Mommy is going through. Haha! I mean, it probably wouldn't be so bad if, you know, I was in labor or something, but not only did I have to go a night away from my Phoebe and Bubba- I had to endure another night wondering when Abby will show up. Poor Larry- he puts up with so much. 

So... you may be asking yourself, "What did you do with that time alone?" Well... I'll tell you what I did not do- I did NOT stay home! (insert hysterical laughing) I went to Barnes & Noble to blog because our house does not pick up internet very well (at all) most of the time. So for future reference- if it takes me longer than a week to blog, that's the reason- internet is down. I'm sitting on a hard bench in the children's section at B&N writing. My very pregnant self would rather do this than enjoy the pristine-ness and quietness of my house. Why? That just seems insane. Maybe I am, but maybe I'm not. I'm a mom and one that has a very hard time letting go of my children. Is it because they are 3 and 17 months old? Maybe, but maybe not. I dread the day I let them stay the night at a friend's house, the day that they leave the house for life on their own, get married, have their own kids (well- THAT day I'll probably enjoy thoroughly!), and the day I have to face the reality of an empty nest.  I know I have a few years (THANKFULLY!) but, unless God comes back before then, this is what my life will be like on a constant basis. That's a scary thought. As much as I don't like the insanity of home-life some days... I wouldn't trade it for what I'm experiencing right now. As one other mother once said, "The days are LONG (sometimes unbearably long), but the years are short." It seems like yesterday I was hyperventilating over a pee-stick that read, "A baby's a-comin'!" (a happy hyperventilating by the way). And some days it seems like forever until I'll have to say goodbye to my mess-ridden house. But that empty nest is not so far away (as many of my readers will agree). I'm sure it seems like yesterday that my mom and dad were going crazy running around my twin sister, my two brothers, and myself. And now they have 5 grandchildren (none of which will be living in the same state). Talk about time flying by. I'm sure my mom... well maybe my dad... miss the days when we'd climb up on their lap and give them a big hug or say, "I didn't do it." after they caught one of us in the middle of a broken cup or plate on the floor. I can only imagine how crazy life will still have to get before I watch my darling children walk down the aisle and join their new part of the family. 

So as I woke up to my Empty Nest, I find myself scared of what will be and eternally grateful for what I have today. My precious children are blissfully unaware of what I'm going through and maybe that's a good thing for now. But for the rest of you... y'all get to thoroughly enjoy each thought that comes out this crazy randomness of my brain. :-) For those who have children- Enjoy them while you can. For those of you who don't- enjoy a clean house and the peace and quiet of the empty nest. Each season has it's own blessings and each season should be appreciated while it can be.

Only a Little While Longer

I had a bad night last night... and I mean BAD. I went to bed around 1:30am with Braxton Hicks coming between 10-13 minutes apart and I got this feeling similar to a kid who knows Christmas is in the morning. I had a hard time falling asleep. I woke up around 2:30 or 3:00 WIDE awake. I'm talking like 3 cups of coffee wide awake and those Braxton Hicks still coming. I figured I'd forget the clock and try to go back to sleep, but it was at that point that sleep seemed impossible. I was up going to the bathroom with pressure and waddling back to the mattress about a dozen times and each time I thought to myself- I can't do this. I'm begging and pleading for labor to just get started already. I didn't care that I had only an hour or so of sleep. All I cared about was no longer being in this limbo. Give me a baby or give me sleep!!! My mind went berserk. I started thinking that if I just squeezed hard enough or if I could just do other terrible things that maybe this misery would stop. I didn't give into those thoughts and I played solitaire to keep my focus on something else. No one will know the depths of darkness that I have experienced during this pregnancy except God Himself. My midwife told me that this last surge of hormones are contributing to these worsened feelings. Prenatal depression is a scary thing. All you want in the world is to be happy and excited and to take in all the wonder and beauty of a life giving process, but you're sunk in this hormone induced sadness and anxiety. I don't like feeling like this. I'm not even a "bad" case. My depression is minor compared to some women. What upsets me the most is that my husband and children don't get the "real" Libby. They get this angry, sad, out of control, sometimes nice to be around woman who can't seem to get the hint that life doesn't revolve around her. No one except Larry can really see how much I hate being pregnant and how desperate I feel to have my child in my arms and for me to return to being the real me- the woman who can focus on the blessings in life, to take in each moment no matter how much effort and patience is required, to wake up each morning thankful, going to bed (even if for a few hours) actually feeling tired and looking forward to each new day, the mom who can just let the mess go (it's the only thing I have control over and so my focus is on that when it's not on how helpless I feel), the person who can smile with a genuine-ness and not plaster it on so that others won't worry about me. When I say that I'm ready for her to be here and how awful it is at night to think that maybe this is it and wake up and it wasn't... I truly mean it. I actually told Larry, after pitching a horrible fit one afternoon, to take me to get a c-section because I am SO done! Loving and understanding husband that he is replied, "It's only a little while longer. She'll be here healthy and happy and we'll be holding her in our arms. You can do this- it's only a little while longer."

When Larry proposed he didn't just ask me to marry him. He asked me if I trusted him "this much". I don't think he knew what he was getting into, but I guess I didn't either. We never anticipated that life would be like this. But the question remains the same, do I trust him this much- to provide, to care for, to encourage- to say what I need to hear when I need to hear them or to not say what I don't need to hear. I don't think I'd appreciate Larry as much as I do now if I had never experienced this situation. Mind you- I've probably been like this for longer than I've been pregnant- I had remnants of this after Stephen, but they became more severe after I became pregnant again. Sure he's gotten frustrated and downright angry, but he's always been here.

Let's face it, as great as Larry is- he'll never fully understand what I go through. There are some things that I've been too scared to talk to him about because honestly- those things scare the tar out of even me! I've come back to this specific thought... I don't have a high priest that cannot be touched with the feeling of my infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as I am, yet without sin. It's in Hebrews 4 verse 15. Jesus Christ- the One that died for the sins I have done, do, and will do... He understands my weaknesses. He knows what I feel and think. He knows how far I've fallen and when I reach up- He, without hesitation, grasps my drowning soul and pulls me up. He sometimes chooses not to take the storm away from around me, but He's standing next to me- making the craziness bearable. Those nights when I want to simply sink and drown in my mind, give up, and let go of life... He doesn't ignore my pleadings and cries and whining and at times my shouting and mental cursings. He doesn't walk away nor will He ever walk away when I need Him.When I came to know Him as I child I didn't anticipate how much He would bring me through and daily He asks me this question, "Do you, Libby, trust me this much?" Do I trust Him to bring me through each crazy and sleepless night? Do I trust that He indeed knows what He's doing? Do I trust Him when He says He's in control of it all? Do I trust Him when He says He loves me and do I trust Him when He says, "Just a little while longer."?


My life is not some random thing floating in a world of meaningless junk. I am made with a purpose just like this little person growing inside of me. I know that He has great things for the both of us and God's given me a stronger desire for her safety than for my well-being (thankfully!). As much as I hate being pregnant- that's how much I love her. That's how much I love all three of my children. As weak as I am in body, mind, and soul- it just shows how strong the God I serve is. He even tells Paul, "My grace is sufficient." He's the only One powerful enough to overcome the issues I have, the instability I experience in my mind (and hips). So when all of this is over and the "real work" begins, I can look back and tell the world- God be glorified! He brought me out of the miry clay, out of the deepest pit of my life, has shown me immense grace and mercy, and has given me the gift of another beautiful daughter- my little Abby. Only a little while longer... only a little while longer.

Momma VS The Tantrum

So this morning kinda went like this... Larry wakes up, I wake up, Larry leaves for work, I get up, I prepare the pot roast with carrots and potatoes that will be dinner for the next 4-5 nights, Bubba wakes up, Phoebe wakes up, I get Bubba a bottle of milk (not that he needs the bottle- the sippy cups are all dirty), I heat up leftover white rice and add milk with sugar for our breakfast, change Bubba's nappy, put him on his potty, and then after a thorough hand washing I attend to the breakfast on the stove and serve it up for Phoebe and myself (Bubba had a banana because rice is just waaaay too messy for him to deal with and I preferred not to spoon feed him this morning). This is where the trouble started...

Phoebe: Mommy, can I have milk sippy cup?
Me: Sure thing- I'll get it in a minute.

(a minute later)

I'm pouring the milk in her red sippy cup when I hear mid-pour, "Mommy, water sippy cup!"
I figured since I already had a sippy cup full of milk that I'd drink some of the milk, pour out the rest in our rice bowls (something she was also asking for), and rinse out the cup and pour my water (which was in my big cup) into her sippy cup- end of story, right? I WISH! The next thing I know Phoebe is pouting (full blown bottom lip pout) with very angry eyes, and her open hands on her face dragging down her cheeks. Needless to say I knew she knew that I knew she wasn't pleased with my actions. My daughter does not throw the loudest or most violent tantrums, but she does throw some serious attitude and has a glare that could pierce even the thickest skin. I had tried my best, hadn't I? I, as calmly as I could, explained that the water that was in the sippy cup, the big pink cup, and the faucet was all the same water. She whispered harshly, "I'm sad!" and then after a few seconds of silence she again whispered gruffly, "I"m angry!" What was I supposed to do? It was at this point I knew that she was either going to bend to the situation or she was going to get her way via her tantrum.

Now it may seem like a silly thing. Why shouldn't I just give in to her? It's a simple request and all it took was me waddling over to the kitchen, lift my legs over the baby gate (yes I still have it up), and empty out the cup, turn on the faucet, and fill up her sippy cup. But what kind of behavior would I be enforcing by giving in? A very wise mother once told me, "Pick your battles wisely." and maybe this was not the best battle to pick, but I picked it for this reason: I'm not going to give in to her tantrum (and yes- it was a tantrum. She didn't have to be throwing herself on the floor for it to be a tantrum). I commended her for being honest with her feelings (it had been a great morning and I had a little extra patience stored up) and then I asked why she was angry. I rephrased it as, "What has made you feel angry?" (she doesnt' quite get the concept of "why") She refused to tell me, but the glare continued. So I asked again what made her feel angry. No answer- just a glare. Okay then... "Phoebe please go sit down and eat your rice." Another burst of attitude with full blown bottom lip pout and continued glare. (I should mention Bubba was happily eating his banana in his chair while all this is going on- hey why not? Free drama without pressing any buttons!) My blood pressure rose slightly as I was trying oh so hard to keep myself from raising my voice (yeah I have a slight problem with that). "Phoebe, please eat your rice." Continued glare and a huffed whisper, "I'm angry." Oh great- now what? She's mad because she didn't get her water in her sippy cup from the faucet and now she refuses to eat her cereal. It's at this point I'm wondering why God gave me a daughter first. I mean seriously- boys just give it to you like it is, but girls make you read their minds and get mad when you can't!

Here we go... the battle of the wills has come to full fruition. It's Momma vs Phoebe. Momma- pregnant and hormonal in one corner! Phoebe- 3 years old (that's enough explanation) in the other! I have picked this battle and I will win- not just because I want to. NO- I NEED to win this one. So... I, as calmly as I can, ask her to take her spoon in her hand and take a bite of her rice. *no movement- just a glare* Again- I ask her to take her spoon in her hand and take a bite of her rice (a bit more frustration seeps through). *no movement- just a glare* For those who don't know me- we discipline with a spank spoon (I'd be happy to explain why we do this). I asked her to come receive her discipline (no I'm not making that up- I honestly word it just like that). It's at this point I spank her bottom, and tell her it was a bad decision to choose a spanking over eating her food. She cries for a little bit (for obvious reasons). I ask her again to eat her food and she takes one bite... and another and another until about half of her rice is gone (I have to admit it was a large serving). She stops for a minute and I ask her "Are you full? You may get down now if you're full." Immediately she climbs down and drinks the water from her sippy cup before going over to her stuffed animals and playing. (Bubba is still munching away happily on his banana then proceeds to wipe the remains on his hands into his hair- oh joy)

I thought to myself, "She just ate half her food, and drank the water from the sippy cup. So what was all the fuss about?" She looked over at me and smiled because I'm sure the very confused look on my face was slightly comical. A few minutes later we were watching "I Dream Of Jeannie (With the Light Brown Hair)" like nothing happened and I guess that's the way it should be. No anger was held on to, no prolonged rejection, no left over feelings... we were free to be happy again. I'm sure this won't be my last run in with the dreaded "Tantrum", but at least this battle was in the end a win for the both of us.

Finding Ways to Make Some Moo-la While Doing Something I Enjoy

Don't get me wrong- I love my "job". Being a stay at home mom, holding down the fort, saving money where I can, and having the freedom to get up and go whenever the need arises... but it doesn't pay well (at all). I figure any way to earn a little extra could help. I'm not talking about a "serious" job (I already have one of those). I'm talking about something part time (spare time) and something that won't interfere with the running of this house because whether I feel like it or not, this house doesn't run without me. I've discovered that those little ads at the top of my blog can actually earn me some money. Here's where I need your help. If you like this blog, share it. Even if you DON'T like reading about my crazy randomness- share me. And while you share and share and share- click on those ad links at the top and help a girl out. Oh- and comment on my posts (not on Facebook- on my actual blog). I enjoy getting feedback- positive and negative.

Now that I've asked a favor from all my FB friends... here's something I can do for you. My goal is to keep you updated on a minimum weekly basis (maybe on a daily basis! Wouldn't that be something?!) Get EXCITED because in the upcoming weeks you're gonna find out how my labor/delivery went, probably see Abby's first pics, get updates on how Abby's doing, how I'm doing, breastfeeding conundrums (hopefully the lack thereof), my experience with flat diapers on a newborn, random ramblings from a sleep deprived momma (they will probably get crazy too- just saying), adjusting to my new part of life's journey, the emotional (hormonal) upheaval postpartum, and the reality of caring for three kiddos ages 3,1, and a brand spankin' new! I'm all excited just thinking about it! :-) So- SHARE ME, LIKE ME, CLICK ON THE ADS! :-D It will all be much appreciated. :-)

The Final Weeks of Pregnancy... Yeah I Kinda Forgot How AWFUL They Are!

In all honesty, when I am not experiencing it for myself, I can get quite irritated at the Facebook posts and comments like "I just want this baby OUT!" or "I am SOOOOOO ready!". But here I am almost 36 weeks pregnant IN July, caring for a 3 yr old AND a 1 yr old. I should probably have more compassion on the women who have only one thing on their mind during the last 4-6 weeks of pregnancy because whether or not I like it or whether or not people are also irritated at me for saying this... I AM SOOOOOOOO SUPER READY!!! I have never wanted to be not pregnant so badly in my life! It is only for the sake of the little person on the inside that I have decided not to forgo the homebirth I am planning and go with an induction... TODAY. These are the things a mother does for their children. That is what love does- total self sacrifice for the welfare of another, right?

Let me explain exactly WHY I am so ready so maybe you can understand where I'm coming from and maybe you'll be less irritated with my cries for mercy.

I didn't mention it before but I figured now is a good a time as any. Only a few friends and relatives know the struggle I've been experiencing and I've had a great support system of prayers and conversations to help me through it all. I have prenatal depression- been taking supplements to keep me "sane". It's not a severe form, but it has effected my health and mind. I've talked with my midwives about it and it seems in general that I don't blame my baby and I love my unborn little one and my family. My depression is more "pregnancy" focused... this means I just hate being pregnant and the physical changes, the things I can't do because I'm pregnant, how pregnancy has halted my life, the guilt I have because I feel like a bad mother to my other two children.... the list could go on and on. I have issues with sleeping, feeling like I didn't want to get out of bed because I had to actually live my life this way. I would cry and cry for no apparent reason and some days I just wanted it to be over. But even through it all I had to remind myself that this little person didn't ask to be here, she was given by a loving God who knows what I can and can't handle with Him. I still hate being pregnant, but I'm thankful that Abby is on her way and she'll be here eventually (seriously- she can't stay in there forever, right?).

Not only does the depression make me antsy to have her here with me already, but the fact that I have two little ones who get the brunt of my frustration and negligence. Seriously, you try enjoying being a mom to two very young children when they constantly make messes that you have to clean up (yeah- good luck bending down), constantly asking for something that requires you to get up (tons of fun especially when your pelvis feels like it's stretching with each step you take), and when they get into something you don't want them to- like the toilet- you have to almost waddle run to stop them and then yet again clean the mess they've made (yes- with poop and pee to boot). I've wanted to hold my kiddos close, rock them to bed, and cuddle them without the fear that the weight of their bodies or their very able legs don't do damage to the little one on the inside. Yeah- I'm a terrible mom. It almost seems like they see the irritation more than any other person in the world.

And on top of it all, my body never really gave me "signs" of prelabor (other than braxton hicks) with my previous pregnancies. The only real sign I knew labor was coming was my water breaking. Yay! This time around... I've had contractions, loose stools, feeling ill, increased discharge, tons of pressure, blah blah blah... and I'm glad she's not born yet- Abby's not ready, I'm not full-term yet. This is what happens when your body is experienced at being pregnant. :-p

My lesson is not so much for everyone else to have patience with my whining and belly-aching (literally). This goes to me more than anyone else. When I read or hear a very pregnant woman go on and on about how they just want to hold their baby already, I'll think twice about being irritated or saying something that really shouldn't be said. These mommas just want to meet the little one that they've waited 9 months to meet. You try waiting that long! :-p I had to write a note so when I deal with this in the future, I will be reminded that I was indeed one of those mommas at some point. Sending love to my other poor mommas out there who have to endure the wait and the irritation from women who are like I was.

I Know My Opinion May Be Controversial...

But only the people who actually read my blog will know what I think. Honestly- it doesn't matter what I think (I'm just one person)- so if you decide not to read my blog after this, I wouldn't think any less of you. I woke up from my nap and checked Facebook and everything seemed to be about the Casey Anthony case from how the justice system in America is screwed up to how awful that a murderer walks free after doing something so horrendous to her child. I am somewhat surprised that Casey Anthony walks away from this circus as a "free" woman- even though she's really not. I am very sad that this little one was taken from this world at that hands of her mother in such an unspeakable manner. That's not the controversial part.

Every day children are taken out of this world at the hands of their mothers and no one bats an eye. The decision to have an abortion is premeditated murder if you want to take it to an extreme. Most cases it's out of sheer desperation or being uneducated of the process your body and the body of your child endure and as a result the mother is left with such remorse that it leads to depression or a slew of other destructive behaviors such as drug use and sexual promiscuity. Abortion is not taking out a "parasite" or "thing". Abortion is killing a child. These victims are just as innocent as Caylee Anthony. Now, I am NOT attacking the mothers who chose to have an abortion- it is a difficult thing to endure and something that they will have to deal with the rest of their lives and I truly believe that God forgives and heals these women. I am stating the fact that a child is innocent no matter how small.

So even if my first statement upset you, please continue to read. As many on Facebook have stated- God's judgement will prevail even if this world's justice system doesn't. I completely agree. What I don't agree with is that it will only happen for this young woman or any "bad" people. For those who have not accepted the free gift of salvation in Jesus Christ- judgement awaits. God paid a high price- the blood of His Son Jesus- to bring men and women guilty of sin into a relationship with Him. Those who in essence say, "I'm good enough to go to Heaven- I don't need your ticket." or "There are so many roads to get there- I don't need your narrow minded way." are basically telling the perfect Judge, the most righteous Judge and jury, that they're good enough to get "off the hook" and that they don't take Him seriously. It would be like Casey Anthony walking up and telling that judge- "Sure I killed her, but I've done enough good to go free." or "Psssh- who are you to tell me that I'm guilty!". Unlike this world's system- God is perfect and no one can say He EVER got the verdict wrong. I believe that even if Casey Anthony on her deathbed accepted Jesus Christ in all sincerity- she would go to Heaven, but it would only be because of the sacrifice Christ made on the cross. See, Jesus paid for that sin, the sin of her murdering her own child. His grace doesn't stop at the sins we say are too big. His blood covers all sin. I pray that she does come to know Christ as her Savior because Hell is a million times worse than any "justice" this world can offer.

Saving Money, Saving the Earth, and Saving... My Babies' Bottoms?

My family and most of my friends know this about me. I'm not an activist, but I wouldn't say I don't encourage others to do it. Can you guess what today's post is about?

Yep... I'm talkin' about CLOTH. Nappies, dipeys, CD'ing... whatever you call it or however you know it by- I love it! I've been cloth diapering for over 18 months. I began this journey when Phoebe was ready for potty training and we started with lots of different stuff (prefolds and wraps to pocket diapers to fitteds and more!). With Stephen we spent about $20/week just on newborn diapers and even after we started cloth-ing he was still in disposables at night and on the go. Needless to say our grocery store bill went down drastically when we stopped 'sposies and even MORE when we went to exclusively using cloth wipes.

Obviously- I used disposables for 18 months exclusively with my daughter and part time with my son for 10 months. There was one main reason I didn't do cloth... POO! My original thinking was I hate dealing with the brown yuckiness and that's why it took until potty training Phoebe for me to realize that getting a bit of poo on your hands is not the worst thing in the world. That's what soap is for. I figured if I can handle big girl poo then I can handle baby poo. Seriously- cleaning poop off a toilet-training toddler is MUCH worse than handling a poopy diaper. The second objection to cloth diapering was it's confusing! SO much information lies in wait on the internet and it's quite overwhelming. What is this whole "dry-pail" anyway? We ended up experimenting with different "systems" before finalizing on Stephen's fitteds and prefolds with wraps with a dry pail method. Third, most of the cost is up front. You buy the "stash" and necessary supplies to start out and thankfully with Phoebe most was given to us by retired cloth-mamas. With Stephen we spent about $200 on his stuff and most of it came from Craigslist. After that initial expense the only thing that cost us was water and electricity and cleaning detergent which actually comes out to pennies per diaper per month and of course my time and energy in washing/drying/putting away (but since I love it so much this doesn't phase me one bit and I've learned just to put it into the regular home routine). My last objection was "But my house is going to stink like crazy!". How in the world could it smell any worse than it did? Disposables stank up the house more than any cloth diaper could. I can't smell the pail until I open it and honestly- it doesn't smell any worse than a room with a can containing one or two sposies.

Here I am 18 months into cloth diapering and 6 months into exclusive cloth-ing (no disposables except the ones given to us for those newbie meconium diapers). With the upcoming arrival of Baby #3 (within the next month or so), I've been researching how to be even "cheaper" when it comes to diapering. Let me explain... Stephen's stash contains about 6 wraps (about $13 each), 18 fitteds (about $7 each), and 10 prefolds ($2 each) along with supplies like a pail, wet bags, cloth wipes, and snappis (probably $300 total). The thing is that all these are size specific and won't fit little Abby. Thankfully we have a few wraps for her along with 8 newborn fitted diapers and 10 small fitteds. Depending on her size she might not fit into any of them for the first month. A side note: newborns can go through 10-12 diapers per DAY so obviously we wouldn't have enough for day one and I'd prefer not to wash diapers twice in a 24 hour period. So what am I to do while staying within the $125 Abby's cloth-diapering budget? Sounds meager now that I think about it, but that's all we can do at this time.

Is a $125 budget even feasible? It sure is!!! You wanna know how? FLATS!!! Yeah- I'm headed OLD SCHOOL! These are the diapers our grandmothers and great-grandmothers used way back in the day and flats are a staple in third world countries when it comes to diapers. I'm getting mine from www.greenmountaindiapers.com and at $25/dozen this is a steal. You can actually purchase flats for far less (maybe $12/dozen), but without the quality and chem-free-ness. I'm also putting three wraps (in GIRL COLORS!) in the budget... these are the Thirsties duo wrap which cost almost $13 each but can fit a newbie to about 15lbs easily. Add a triple pack of snappis for $7.55 and the total comes to $121.55 plus the $6.95 for shipping. Okay so the shipping puts me a little over budget, but I don't include that in my calculations.

Can you tell I love cloth diapering? Yeah- I'm pretty much a nerd, but that's okay. I'm saving money, the environment, and my little people's behinds. I can't imagine NOT CD'ing actually. It's so much fun and my kids love the cotton feeling on their bottoms (my son would actually try to take off the disposables I'd put on him sometimes). I have to say that cloth-diapering was the reason Phoebe was fully potty trained at 2 years old. :-) So if anyone has been thinking about it- maybe this dispels alot of questions or objections you may have. Let me add that this has been one of the best decisions I've made in raising my little ones and if I could I would start from the very beginning with my first. :-D I hope you've enjoyed my little woop-dee-doo rant because I certainly enjoyed talking about it.

Father's Day

There's always a certain sadness when it comes to Father's Day. I haven't spent this day of celebration with my own dad for many years. I think the last time I spent this day with my dad (while he lived in Texas) was in 2000 when we were in the Rio Grande Valley on a mission trip. Yeah... I actually bought his card while there at a Wal-Mart. That was 11 years ago and as I reflect on that fact I feel as if I've missed out on something. From 2001 to 2004 I spent each Father's Day leaving on yet another mission trip to somewhere in West Texas. In October 2004 my family moved to North Carolina and from 2005 until 2008 I was here in Texas, but something or another happened where I couldn't be with my dad for this special day. FINALLY in 2009, I was able to spend Father's Day with my Dad-e-o because my husband, our 13 month old daughter, and myself were in North Carolina on vacation. It was awesomeness.

Let me tell you about my Dad. He was almost 21 when my twin and I were born and I remember him telling me that when he held us for the first time his whole world had changed. See, his own birth father was abusive and when my dad was a kid that man left my grandma and died soon afterwards. Thankfully, God blessed my dad with his "real" dad- the man I call Grandpa. It's no small thing for a man to raise another man's child and Grandpa raised my dad as his own. Sure my dad was rebellious and lived a little crazy, but when my sister and I were born my dad held us and prayed to be a better man for us. 4 years before we were born he gave his life to Christ and I know that's what really made the difference. My dad could've easily given into the reasoning that since his birth father was so awful that he couldn't break that cycle. But he didn't. My dad isn't perfect, but he's a great dad. In fact he turned out to be a father figure to many kids whose dads weren't present and I know that they were made better because of it. The greatest thing that I could say about my dad was that he pointed me to Christ. Many people had an incredible influence in that journey, but it was important for me to see the parallel between my earthly father and heavenly Father. Some of the biggest lessons I've learned in life came in the conversations with my dad, whether I listened or not. Like this guy I dated in high school and college- I knew my dad didn't like him all that much, but tolerated him because I liked him alot. I should've listened to that seemingly small thing. I learned eventually... when I introduced Larry to my dad- I knew that Larry was it. I'm sure it was a hard thing for my dad when Larry asked if he could marry me because it solidified the fact that I would never return to living under their roof or sharing those face to face conversations over the dinner table on a regular basis. My dad made lots of sacrifices for my happiness.

I suppose the reality of fatherhood never dawned on me as much as it has since Larry and I welcomed our first- our little Phoebe and it continues to dawn on me on a day to day basis what my dad went through. Phoebe's now three and those moments when she runs up to Larry after he gets home from work and grabs onto his leg and won't let go or when Larry rocks Stephen to sleep after a hard day's work... those moments are priceless to a child. I remember feeling my dad carry me half asleep out of the van growing up and putting me in bed after a crazy day and how safe I'd feel. When dad would read books to us or a few verses at the dinner table- that means alot to me. And even when he'd have to spank us when we lied or broke something... honestly my heart would break over him saying "I'm very disappointed." and not so much over the spanking, but I'm glad he disciplined us. I am very blessed to have a great dad who was there and who did things with us kids.

I know many people who didn't have that experience. I know many mothers who have to be fathers too and that breaks my heart. I learned alot of things that only my dad could've taught me... like what kind of man I wanted to marry. Larry tends to be alot like my dad in many ways and I'm thankful for that. And as a mother of a son- I know it will be important for him to learn manhood from a real man. I've been coming back to certain verses in Psalm 68 that says God is a father to the fatherless and a defender of widows. That God places the lonely in families. That's an incredible hope for those who don't have an earthly dad or who have a dad who just isn't there for them whether it's physically or spiritually. And whether my readers believe it or not- God is a better father than mine- a million times over. The times when my dad wasn't there or couldn't be there, I could always lean on the Lord for comfort and guidance. There have been many times that I simply couldn't talk to my dad about certain things, but I've never known a moment when I couldn't go to God.

So on this Father's Day, sadly I won't be able to be with my own dad and grandpa, but I'm no less thankful for them. And I have to add that I'm very blessed to have a husband who is a great dad too. :-) Above all- I'm incredibly thankful for the ultimate Father who no matter what happens or how far we stray, He's always there. If you have a great dad- tell him. If you don't- know that God wants to be if He isn't already.

Second Sonogram

Today at noon we had the second sonogram. They told me to drink 32oz of fluid (water for me thanks) 30 minutes before the appointment and I got there 15 minutes early. Let me tell you... I was DYING! I have NEVER needed to go to the bathroom so bad in my life. Totally worth it because they needed to see my little one's head to take pictures to see if the choroid plexus cyst had resolved itself. When they called me back to the ultrasound room, I was on the verge of tears because I was so uncomfortable. The technician said she'd take pics and then let me relieve myself before they did measurements of the rest of her. Those were the longest moments of my life... not only because I wanted to know if the CPC was gone, but also because I had to use every ounce of strength and determination to keep from exploding on the gurney. Let me just say that I've never felt such relief after using the restroom. Sorry if this is just TMI, but I told Larry I'll probably have a similar experience in the minutes after our little one is born (yes it was THAT bad).

So I returned to the room after doin' my business and we continued with the ultrasound. Larry came in the room (he was running a little late) and the technician took measurements and pictures for us to gaze on whilst we await our precious child. So here are some things we found out:

*They put my due date at August 12th, 2011 (which matches the due date I come up with when I figure it from the date of conception). I'm 31 weeks and 5 days! :-D

*We confirmed that our little person is a GIRL! (yay! I don't have to switch everything back!)

*Abby (the short version of her 95% sure name) is measuring 4lbs 3oz now... which means that if she doubles her weight between here and delivery time she could easily be 8lbs (YAY!!!)

*And most importantly the CPC is indeed gone and nothing is present that could hinder our plans for a home birth. :-)

We are so thankful for the prayers and thoughts. God is good. If you would please pray for a healthy remainder of this pregnancy and a safe and smooth delivery- they would be MUCH appreciated. :-)

Laura Story - Blessings

24 Weeks!!!!

It apparently takes me way too long to write a new blog. :-p Too much energy or something. I am now 24 weeks pregnant and yesterday was our midwife appointment. It was a good visit to say the least. Shiloh is very healthy and very energetic. It seems like every time we try to hear her heartbeat she becomes this crazy wiggle worm and kicks like crazy. hehe The midwife and the midwife-in-training even saw Shi bob up. It was exhilarating! :-) That was the highlight of our visit. The rest of the visit was good too, but in a different way. Unfortunately for you this part of our journey will remain a private matter. Don't worry- all concerned parties are safe and there is no reason to worry. We're realizing more and more that each pregnancy is different physically, emotionally, and mentally. If you believe in the power of prayer continue to pray now for each of these aspects for us. I'm learning that my mental and emotional well-being really do matter and can have consequences in physical realm if not addressed. I'm so thankful for such a supportive husband, patient children, with my family and friends here in SA-Town. I'm also coming to grips that I will have to ask for help when Shiloh is born. I'm not one to ask because I feel like it would be burdensome to so many, but in this situation it will be necessary. If I'm a tad secretive from now until Shiloh is born it is simply because we are now facing something that I should have expected with my family history, but now must experience in the privacy of my close circle here in San Antonio. You're probably saying, "This is a blog- shouldn't you feel free to share?!" I wish I were THAT comfortable, but I'm not- especially when it comes to this specific trial. You could pray for me and my family though. God knows what it is and He knows His purpose in it. There's a song from Laura Story that I've com across recently that has really helped me cope. The song is called "Blessings" and I'll probably add it in a post or something. All I know is that the things we're facing are not placed in our lives to push us away from God, but to draw us toward His loving arms. It's not easy. It's a decision I must make moment by moment- whether to be defeated or to rise up, to walk away or run toward. Only a few more months. Just a little while and we will be holding our precious little girl. That moment will make all of this worth it. :-) By the way... we are planning on having a home birth. Exciting! The last time we attempted one- it didn't go so well and we had to go to the hospital. So yet another prayer request if you will. :-) Lots of reasons, but the main one is my own comfort and healing. Thanks for reading!!! :-D

So much has happened in the past few days...

Well we had our sonogram on Tuesday and we found out we are expecting another GIRL!!! I'm in awe and flabbergasted to say the least. I had a feeling, but always assumed Shiloh was a boy. My mind is in many places at the moment, but I'll try to sort them out in a way that is coherent and understandable.

The sonogram revealed not only the gender of little Shiloh, but an anomoly called a choroid plexus cyst. If you google it, this formation (like a bubble) occurs in 1-3% of all 2nd trimester sonograms and 90+ percent clear up on their own. A CPC doesn't effect the development of the child, but is can be a "soft" indicator of Trisomy 18 (Edward's Syndrome) and Trisomy 21 (Downs Syndrome). This is my understanding from all the googling I've done in the past couple of days. Trisomy 18 is 10 times rarer than trisomy 21, but is a far more serious condition that results in severe birth defects which result in death before adolescence. Both of these situations occur in less than 1% of babies with a CPC. So although the situation is rare and usually clears up on its own- the less than 1% is pretty devastating.

Let me say that I'm not worried and after hearing the news we've decided to prepare for the "what-ifs" but not dwell on them. We are going to schedule another sonogram for some time between weeks 28-32. By then the CPC will have cleared up on its own. Since we are planning for a natural labor and delivery at a birth center, the possibility of something more serious calls us to be prepared for a hospital delivery. This is the main reason we are having the second sonogram done- to just be prepared for a change in our plans. Little Shiloh is in very capable hands and the situation is completely out of my control. The God I serve loves me very much and loves my little child very much so the questions, "Why me?" and "Why this?" only set my mind up to doubt this simple fact. I'm learning more and more that when I become frustrated with God about the what ifs and whys, I'm furthering myself from the JOY He has in store for me every second of every day.

As I researched everything that this CPC could indicate, I realize it does no good. I'm one of those "I want to know right now and I don't enjoy surprises unless they come in a bouquet of flowers or a get together with friends." so you can only imagine what my mind does. I've got to research and KNOW what's going on. Unfortunately- this very ingrained desire of mine only sets my heart and head in a place it doesn't need to be. Whatever happens will happen whether I look stuff up or not. I will still love my little baby girl as much as I love my other children. If we have further challenges to face after her birth then we will by God's grace and mercy. I'm not being flippant about this either... this could potentially be very serious, but the potential does not exceed the God I trust in. Every trial I pass through passes before Him first and nothing comes as a surprise. That gives me a hope and peace that can't be explained with words.

For the past few nights I've laid awake just feeling little Shiloh kicking like crazy and move around. She's so much like Phoebe was. I think back to when I was expecting Phoebe- I was in shock and so excited about having the girl I never thought was possible (my husband has 5 brothers and no sisters). Here I am in a situation I never thought was possible... EVER! I'm nervous about having another little girl. I'm realizing more and more that I'm the role model they will look to for wisdom and guidance about womanly things. What kind of example will I show them? I just expected to have all boys and for Larry to carry the "burden" of being the role model, but my expectations have been blown out of the water. I feel inadequate and ashamed that I'm not what I need to be for my children. What a promise is given to us in the bible- when we ask for wisdom God doesn't withhold it from us! He wants to come to Him freely and curl up in His lap and at times even cry those tears that express what words can't.

I listened to a program on the radio for a few minutes yesterday on my way home from HEB. The speaker was talking about letting Christ serve us. It begged the question, "When did I stop allowing Christ to serve me?" Peter said, "No!!! You can't do this!" But Christ responds with a resounding, "Unless you allow me to do this, you have no part with me." Yikes! As a Christian, my mind is set up to always be serving Him- doing stuff for Him and doing things for others in His name. But I can't do those things unless I allow Him to serve me first. I know it's a weird thing to wrap my mind around, but it's true. The grace He gives each day- do I let Him give it to me and do I dwell in that grace OR do I say, "No- please don't, I can do this on my own, but thanks, anyway." When I'm at home with my kids all day- do I receive the wisdom and patience He holds out for me afresh each morning and moment by moment? I must confess it is a resounding NO!!! And now with my little Shiloh... do I reach out and accept the peace only He can give or do I dwell in worrisome thoughts and the "what-ifs"? This is the place He has brought me to. Do I just drag myself along kicking and screaming or do I let Him lead me? These thoughts are somewhat revolutionary because I have to allow myself to be changed. He doesn't ask me to do anything He hasn't done already and He will never ask me to do anything that is too much to handle outside His strength and love.

I am convinced that nothing can separate me from His love. Praise be to God!

The Clearing Before Bed

I have about a million (obvious exaggeration) things going on in my brain right about now which is a shame since it's 11:51PM as I start this here blog entry. *sigh* So I'll be as short-winded on each as I can without stifling the thought processes.

1) I feel overwhelmed by my house. Needless to say I really should get over it, but maybe (just maybe) that's who I am. I need to have a clean floor to feel a sense of calm. This is the one environment I have a bit of control over so I feel there's a demand for sanity here. I find it funny that people think "Oh your house looks a lot cleaner than mine." and I smile and think to myself, "I'm pretty sure you're missing the sink full of dishes and the corner where I put the toy box that has this lava effect going on." haha! So tomorrow guess what I'm doing? I'm doing the floors (which in turn forces me to pick things up and I end up organizing most of the "public" spaces).

2) Larry felt Shiloh kick for the first time- very exciting! Then I let my 2 yr old try and a few seconds later she said, "Baby done." I told her that she could feel the baby later if she wanted and she replied, "Okay." She asks more questions and I think she's at least 100% more aware of what's going on than when I was pregnant with Stephen. It's fun to have a short conversation about Baby every now and again. I look forward to the things she says during the sonogram! :-)

3) And now a little more thought sobriety. I'm sure everyone's talking about it, but today was the first day I actually saw photos of what's going on in Japan. My imagination really couldn't come up with the scenes of the disaster areas. In one photo this mother was walking, crying, and holding her child's lifeless body- both were covered in mud. The reality of this event really hit in the few seconds I stared at this photo. It's situations like this where we want to blame something or someone, but there isn't anything or anyone to blame. We want justice to prevail and all to be right in the world, but the only thing that mother wants is the life of her child back. We can't make either happen. The only thing we can do is pray for those who are alive and give aid as quickly as possible. It amazes me that even after such an event, history will coldly say it was 8.9 on the Richter scale and it was one of the top 5 worst earthquakes/tsunamis in Japan's history (or something similar).

4) That brings me to my last thought for the night (clearing my mind is good to do before bedtime). Recorded history is pretty much heartless. The linear narrative reads off numbers, "important" names, and the effects of the said event. From volcanoes, famine, floods, and earthquakes, to wars, treaties, governments, and trade. Good or bad we can only see the deep emotional reality through pictures, letters, and journals. They reveal people who have dreams and plans for the future. These living, breathing men, women, and children had something to lose or something to gain within those pages of your history book. Each of these people had a purpose! Their pain is real as you read a handwritten note from a WWII soldier saying he won't be coming home and yet the joy is intensely palpable as you stare at the bride's face beaming through the faded wedding photo. Our physical lives are summed up by a dash between two separate dates. What we do in the midst of that dash will be remembered by the people we love and the lives we touch. Our memory is etched in the minds and hearts of those who lived in our own little world. My great great grandchildren may never know my name or face, but the legacy I leave in my children and in my children's children may be known for many decades after I'm gone. What I do here DOES matter through eternity!

So, as I struggles to finish this blog without sounding flippant, I will conclude with this. It's almost 1:00am and the day I wake up to (Lord-willing) is a gift and my legacy will be built by the moments tomorrow brings. Not so much in the extraordinary super-hero seconds, but in the "normal" and mundane minutes and hours will my dash be engraved. Thanks for reading. :-)

Has It Really Been 6 Weeks Since the last update?!

So, as you pretty much have figured out- I'm a slacker. Blogging is fun, but time consuming and when you don't have much time to write or think about what you're going to write- you end up not doing either. Sorry for my slacker-ness. Quick update:

Week 12- still nauseated but throwing up maybe 1 every few days and still not able to drink any water without carbonation. Blah.

The BIG STORY: We had our first midwife appointment (we are going through a birth center since our hospital experiences were not at all what we had liked them to be- and in general I have a great mistrust of OB's) Well, mistake number 1 was taking two under three by MYSELF to an appointment. Mistake number 2 was assuming I could handle it on my own and still have enough energy for the rest of the day. We got there- I filled out paperwork (surprised my blood pressure was normal after all that!) and I went in to visit with my midwife Jennifer and the midwife in training (I'm all for learning experiences, right?) I'm at complete ease as we go through questions while continuing to give my little ones something to do besides grabbing onto the mini-blinds and crawling under furniture (they ARE well behaved in general, but since the birthing center is sooooo exciting- they simply had to explore every aspect of it). Again- I'm surprised my blood pressure came out normal. I filled out a few more forms and had my temp taken (slightly higher than normal) and my blood pressure- totally normal. They weighed me and I weighed in at around 133 lbs. Not bad for throwing up alot weeks earlier. They gave me a food intake paper and asked me to bring it back at the next appointment. Great. I also had a basic blood analysis taken ( I wasn't tested for STD's because both my husband and myself are each other's one and only partner). Jennifer took my two crazy kids out to explore some more so they didn't have to watch red fluid come out of my arm via a needle (my daughter freaks out at anything that looks remotely like a shot). Lastly- I got to hear my little one's heartbeat (strong and in the 160's) Tada! All done. Come back in 4 weeks! Needless to say I was wiped out for the next two days.

Week 13- nauseated only at night and in the mornings

Week 14- nauseated at night and in the mornings (threw up once)

BIG STORY: I felt Shiloh kick for the first time- seriously was NOT gas. Yay!!!

Week 15- nauseated only in the evenings- woohoo! Starting to feel my pelvis stretch (can anyone say outch?!)

Week 16- I can drink REGULAR WATER!!!! YES!!! Second midwife appointment! YES!!!

BIG STORY: My husband came with me this time and that day just happened to be my son's birthday (YAY for ONE YEAR OLD!!!) We went to my son's 1 yr appointment where he got a finger prick and three vaccines. :-p Oh my little trooper. He slept it off later on. My daughter was quite the handful, but I'm glad I didn't go it alone this time. :-) We had Chik-fil-A for breakfast and then headed to the midwife appointment. I discovered that I eat too much for my own good and the scale showed it. I gained 7 lbs in 4 weeks- yikes! The food journal was filled out and forgotten at home, but I knew exactly why I gained 7 lbs.- lots of carbs and LOTS chips and pickles. :-P Naughty Preggy. No needles this time around. Lots of questions and lots of craziness (two toddlers will do that for ya) along with a very strong heartbeat in the 140's (totally normal). It was a great visit and after that we headed home where I think I might've gotten a nap in.

Week 17- it's craziness. Sheer craziness. Every time I get up I feel like my pelvis is going to split (painful). My nausea is very slight and it attacks at night every other day. I'm almost out of the nausea.

BIG STORY: I laid awake one night/morning around 3am and felt pressure in my lower abdomen. I placed my hand pretty low to feel a very hard "bump" which so happened to be Shiloh's backside poking outward. I rubbed Shiloh's "back" for a few minutes (which is like an eternity with in-utero babies: Shiloh must have liked it). Then a few minutes later Shiloh moved away and I could go to the bathroom again. I have to admit- that was a very happy moment, but scary at the same time. In less than 6 months I will meet this little person. Woah... reality- I imagined newborn-ness and my kids staring at this baby thinking "What's that?!" and then after my husband returns to work- being at home alone with THREE!!! Yowzers and yikes again!

I'm in week 18 and so far it's been pretty good. Stressful, but good. :-) I have a 1 yr old, an almost 3 yr old and the next three weekends have something going on. I'm not expecting another blog to pop up for a month or so unless something incredible happens (like finding out the GENDER!) Yeah- I won't keep y'all waiting too long for that one. :-)

I looked at the calendar and told myself, "I'm only 17 weeks?!" This pregnancy seems to be taking forever- which irks me yet makes me realize that 2 outside is pretty good for now. :-) Appreciate every moment you get... *kick* And Shiloh says, "Hi!"

Update From the Placenta Brain...

Well it's been a while, hasn't it? Needless to say- I've been having a pretty rough third time around. I'm 10 weeks 4 days and my first appointment is on the 25th of January. You can only imagine how incredibly anxious I am to hear the heartbeat for the first time. :-) Here's a quick review of the last few weeks:

Week 6- symptoms started up... I had to (and still) visit the bathroom an average of 10 times during the day and 3 during sleep hours. The nausea amped up, but only throwing up a couple times. Back started hurting and had a bit of spotting (totally normal and it went away).

Week 7- only change was the level of nausea. It went from okay to bad.

Week 8- Nausea goes from bad to worse.

Week 9- Nausea goes from worse to unbearable.

Week 10- Nausea goes back to just bad. Sssssooooooooo incredibly thankful for that! I only threw up once every couple of days instead of throwing up 5 times every day.

Week 11- so far the nausea has stayed the same. I'm learning to actually function now.

I still go potty every hour and every 3 in the middle of the night. My kids let me sleep in until 8:30pm (such a blessing!). Since I stay at home my only real responsibilities are my two and a half year old, my almost 11 month old, and making sure there are enough clean dishes and laundry to get by.

My menu, to-do lists, and other nice reminders of my plans pretty much were thrown out the window a few weeks back so I'm free-styling my day to day activities. It's days where the kids are crazy, nothing has been done, and I just want to curl into a ball and cry that I'm so thankful that I stay at home all day long because I have the freedom to curl up into a ball without worrying about my co-workers calling CPS or the State Hospital. My kids are so gracious, really they are. My daughter goes and gets things and my son likes to entertain himself by walking everywhere. Yes- did I mention my son actually walks now? That started a couple of weeks ago. He's pretty much amazing. My daughter speaks in sentences and enjoys telling me "No." often. What can I say? She's a toddler.

I"m beginning to realize that the more children I have- the more lax I become in what used to be a very rigid parenting style. I'm thankful my daughter has a more "chillaxed" mommy now and one playmate/brother. :-) Not that discipline and training are not present in this house because they sure are, but I no longer expect myself to be a perfect parent nor do I expect to have perfect children or a perfect house. haha- what was I thinking?! How in the world could I ever have perfect anything when I am so imperfect to start out with?! *sigh*

To all the ladies out there who don't have children... don't judge a frazzled, impatient, or "weak"-willed mommy. You don't know what it's like until you experience it for yourself. And for those ladies who still think baby harnesses are child-abuse, I used to think so too until I walked into an area with hundreds of total strangers with a toddler bursting at the seams. Mind you- I still don't have one, but I have thought about it.

Okay okay- enough ranting and raving and chatting and well... expressing myself. I'm going to bed before I feel the need to see my prenatal pills again. G'nite! :-)