OK, so here's the 2nd part of Hattie's birth story. You can read part 1 here. I realize that I sound overdramatic and whiny in all of this. Overall, I had a very healthy delivery experience and Hattie was healthy when she was born. I realize that this isn't the worst case scenario. The whole thing was just much different than what I had planned and wanted.
So where were we? Right. The midwife decided to admit me because of my low levels of amniotic fluid, and she thought that maybe my water HAD broken. But the contractions I'd been having all morning and afternoon had come to a halt.
It was storming outside, and warnings were coming over the intercom system. I wasn't even paying attention to them because I was so upset that I was being admitted and labor seemed to have come to a halt. It was maybe 3:00 or 3:30. I just kept thinking about everything I could be getting done at home . . . unpacking, cooking, putting the kids to bed, etc. We left triage and went to a labor and delivery room.
Once we got there, we decided to roam the halls. As we walked, I'd have to stop and breathe through a contraction every few minutes. When I'd stop walking, the contractions would stop. As we walked, we reminisced about walking the halls before Claire was born. The new hospital had only been open 2 or 3 weeks at that point. The walls were bare, and it was Christmas day, so everything was empty.
Things were pretty busy that day, though.
We went back to our room and ordered dinner. We, of course, ordered the chocolate cake that I fell in love with way back after Jack was born. The chocolate cake from U of M's room service the best chocolate cake I've ever had . . . and now that I've had it prior to giving birth I can confirm that it's not just the post-labor hunger talking.
After we ate, I dozed in bed a little. I hadn't been sleeping well for the few weeks before, so I figured if I was going to be stuck in the hospital, I should probably just try and rest. At some point between 7 and 7:30, I shot up in bed with an intense contraction (I know the time because I remember Wheel of Fortune was on). From that point on, contractions started fast and furious. I remember asking Kyle if they were 5 minutes apart yet and he said, "Uh, they're about 2 minutes apart."
A little bit later, the nurse came in and asked if I would like my epidural and I said I didn't think I'd be far enough along because I wasn't even at 1 cm when I came in. She laughed and said, "We can give you an epidural any time you want!" Well, I wish someone had mentioned THAT before.
The anesthesia team took about 20 minutes to get there, but it felt like 2 hours. Contractions had escalated to the point where I couldn't even sit comfortably between them. I was writhing and I was, well . . . loud. Side note: When I hear about the birth stories of others, I become convinced that I do not handle pain well. I'm loud and not calm at all. I'm begging for relief and crying for someone to just help.
SO I'm hunched over the side of the bed with my legs braced on Kyle knees while they insert the epidural, having to stop every minute or so for a contraction. I'd never thrown up during labor before . . . something I can no longer say. I'm thankful for the nurse who was quick on her feet for that one. Given that I was hunched over Kyle, I think he's probably even more thankful than I was. The chocolate cake is not as good coming up. Just FYI.
In the middle of getting the epidural, an attending doctor came in. This is where everything started to go south. She was barking orders at the resident (who was doing just fine up until she came in) and asking me questions (um, why are you asking me things that are in my chart when I'm so obviously not in the frame of mind to be answering). To make a much longer story a little bit shorter, I ended up with a dural puncture during my epidural. This is a risk of an epidural, but I never thought it would happen. It was the first time the resident had ever had that happen. (He later came back and apologized several times. I wanted to tell him that I blamed only the attending anesthesiologist, but I resisted.)
I didn't know what was going on, but I started to hear whispering and I kept asking what was going on. In the middle of that chaos, I started feeling very strongly like I needed to push. Please note that I've never been to this phase of labor before without an epidural. I was freaking. out. I felt like I was coming off the bed because baby was trying to just push herself out of there. The nurse called the midwife (Anne) and got me set up to push, but I said I couldn't without the epidural. She told me it was my decision and we could wait until the epidural to take effect before I pushed, and I could see the attending kind of shake her head.
I was already confused, because I'd had 3 epidurals in the past and had almost immediate relief with each of them. Each of those times, my contractions had lessened in intensity by the time I was back laying down.
So after the attending kind of shook her head, the midwife said, "You know what? I think you should just go ahead and start pushing. By the time that epidural works, you could have already delivered!" I started shouting things about knowing how epidurals work and knowing that I should have relief by now (Kyle said he had to stifle laughs because of how out of character everything I was saying was) . . . and they broke the news to me that something went wrong with it. Anne took my hand and looked at me and said, "There are a lot of things that don't go the way you expect when you're a parent, right? This is just one more of those things."
And that was the moment that I realized I would be giving birth, without any pain relief.
So I started pushing and a few agonizing pushes later, at 10:00 PM, Hattie Lynne was born! They put her in my arms and I felt like I was holding Claire again because they looked so much alike. I just stared at her and she cried a little and looked at me a little. We love her so much and just couldn't stop looking at her. Was she worth it? Absolutely. 100% yes. Would I change everything about the experience if I could? Also, yes.
During recovery, everyone kept saying things like, "When your epidural wears off . . . " or "You shouldn't feel this because of the epidural . . . " and I kept having to remind them that I did and could still feel EVERYTHING. Stitches included.
But I'm not to the worst part yet.
Apparently a very recent study shows that when you have a dural puncture, you can avoid a post dural puncture headache by leaving the catheter in your spine for 24 hours. Which meant that I pretty much couldn't move from my bed for 24 hours. No bathroom, no shower, no walking. Just sitting in bed, or laying on my back. In retrospect it doesn't sound that bad, but all I wanted was to shower and to not use a bedpan. I spent a lot of time crying over the fear of the post dural puncture headache and the possibility of needing a blood patch.
Fortunately, I didn't get the headache (I had a pretty bad one a few days later, but I'll never know for sure if that's what it was). No blood patches were required to fix it. Everything healed up well.
Hattie was born on Tuesday, August 26 (Kyle's 35th birthday) at 10 PM and we brought her home that Thursday morning. We jumped right back into things . . . Jack's 2nd grade class open house was that night and Kyle took him to that. We still had boxes and boxes to unpack (still do, for that matter) and a new house to get used to. Our lives are just now starting to find a "normal" again.
Hattie is the sweetest, most laid back baby ever. I've done this before, so I know that it might not last forever, but we are so enjoying her happy disposition for now!
December 16, 2014
December 10, 2014
Hattie at 3 months old
At 3 months old, Hattie . . .
. . . has a few nick names. Claire calls her "Hatta Batta" and we've all started calling her that. It's obnoxious, I know. I call her Hattie Cat, too. And then a friend sent us a book called "Hurray for Hattie Rabbit" so that's caught on a little.
. . . is so laid back. I hesitate typing that because it'll all be over once it's out there for the Internet to see. That's just how things work.
. . . has rolled over 3 times, but I've only seen it happen once. The first two times I just found her laying on her back, even though I'd left her on her tummy. My other kids all rolled from back to front first, so I was surprised. She hasn't done it since, so I don't think it counts.
. . . had her first road trip to Chicago. She was AWESOME. She slept in the moby everywhere we went and slept 12 hours straight each night. I was a little worried because, in general, she doesn't like to leave home.
. . . is super smiley. All I have to do is look at her and her face lights up.
. . . loves her brothers and sister. I think she could just sit and watch them all day.
. . . plays so well on her playmat and in her exersaucer that sometimes I forget where I left her. Don't tell on me.
. . . is CHATTY. She squeals and chats like crazy and will talk back when we talk to her.
. . . was a great sleeper until she got sick last week. She's slowly returning to her good sleeping habits, though. She naps in her crib but still sleeps in our room most nights.
. . . is WAY better in the car seat than she used to be. She doesn't cry nearly as much.
. . . sits in a little high chair with us at dinner and just takes it all in. She'll sometimes grab a toy and try to get it to her mouth, but she mostly just watches.
. . . is super drooly. I keep wondering if she'll get a tooth here soon.
. . . has a few nick names. Claire calls her "Hatta Batta" and we've all started calling her that. It's obnoxious, I know. I call her Hattie Cat, too. And then a friend sent us a book called "Hurray for Hattie Rabbit" so that's caught on a little.
. . . had her first road trip to Chicago. She was AWESOME. She slept in the moby everywhere we went and slept 12 hours straight each night. I was a little worried because, in general, she doesn't like to leave home.
. . . loves her brothers and sister. I think she could just sit and watch them all day.
. . . plays so well on her playmat and in her exersaucer that sometimes I forget where I left her. Don't tell on me.
. . . is CHATTY. She squeals and chats like crazy and will talk back when we talk to her.
. . . is WAY better in the car seat than she used to be. She doesn't cry nearly as much.
. . . sits in a little high chair with us at dinner and just takes it all in. She'll sometimes grab a toy and try to get it to her mouth, but she mostly just watches.
. . . is super drooly. I keep wondering if she'll get a tooth here soon.
October 9, 2014
Hattie at 6 weeks old . . .
. . . weighs 10 lbs, 7 oz and measures 22 1/4 inches.
. . . is finnicky about sleep. But we're not great about a consistent schedule so that's probably our fault as much as hers. We're still grasping for routine here.
. . . has not slept a single night away from us. Her brothers and sister slept in their own rooms from the start, but their rooms were just down the hall from us. Our bedrooms are a lot more spread out in this house so she sleeps right next to me. I'm wondering if that's going to come back to bite us.
. . . sleeps well at night (relatively speaking) but has trouble getting back to sleep after she eats.
. . . spends way more time crying for her Mama than her siblings did. Claire is, well, challenging these days and I often have to put Hattie down to attend to her or her brothers. It breaks my heart, and usually only lasts for a minute or two, but she'll get so worked up that it sometimes feels like an hour.
. . . has the sweetest smiles. They just melt my heart. Sometimes she smiles at me and I wonder if I'll ever be able to put her in a time out. It just seems impossible.
. . . has her big sister wrapped around her little finger. Her brothers, too, for that matter. Every so often, they'll get frustrated when she cries in the car, but for the most part, they're very loving and attentive. Claire gets the most one on one time with her. I spend a lot of time protecting her from Claire's love.
. . . seems to poop way more than her siblings. Maybe it just seems that way, but holy cow. I feel like I'm constantly changing her diaper.
. . . is always in pajamas. It's just easier that way now that the weather is cool. I have some really cute warm weather clothes that she'll never get a chance to wear, and that's a bummer. I feel bad for not putting her in cute clothes, but that's a lot of work.
. . . had a harder time holding her head up from the beginning. It's getting better now, but Kyle and I were both a little worried at first because she was a lot "floppier" than the other three. At her check-up, we found out that her head is the same size as her siblings was, but her height and weight are much smaller. The doctor said it's probably because her head was so much bigger proportionally, but that she seemed to be developing fine.
. . . does not like tummy time. Who does, really?
. . . leaves the house every day to go to pick up or drop off siblings, her brothers' games, to the store with mom . . . she's on the go. She rarely leaves my arms or her car seat though. It is flu season, after all.
. . . is starting to raise her hands to try and bat at toys dangling above her. She mostly just lays there and stares at them intensely, though.
September 30, 2014
Chicken bits in my hair
It's no secret that I love to watch TV.
Wait, no. I take that back . . . it comes as a surprise to people who don't know me all that well, because it's a bit of a guilty pleasure that I don't advertise that much. But if you really start to engage me in conversation, it's bound to come up and my secret is out. Whether it be something I saw on the news or a quote from HIMYM, the truth always comes out. Please don't judge. Are you judging me? If so, just keep reading, because this post has very little to do with television.
I have a trusty DVR to keep me entertained as I work, cook . . . or breastfeed. One of my favorite things about the first few months of my baby's life is the excuse to lock myself in a room with just her and watch whatever I'd like. Because of my love/hate relationship with breastfeeding, this is sometimes my motivation to keep it up. It's well documented that I think the best time of year to have a baby is right before network sweeps.
Obviously, with each subsequent child that gets more difficult. Right now, I'm often nursing while quizzing Jack on spelling words, pondering Ben's "what if" scenarios and/or reading "Are You My Mother" to Claire for the 55,000th time. But during those late night nursing sessions, or when Kyle's home and I get that chance to sneak away and watch something, I savor every moment.
One show I added to the lineup this time around is the Pioneer Woman's cooking show on Food Network. I love her blog, so I was sure I'd love her show. I can bake pretty well, but I'm not much of a chef. Watching her in the kitchen, though, makes me think that I can do it, too. You just throw a little of this and a little of that into the pot, give it a stir, and viola! A culinary masterpiece! It's truly mesmerizing.
On last week's show, she made chicken and noodles. As I watched her cook and create, I was inspired. It seemed so simple. In a moment of pure stupidity, I added it to my menu as tonight's dinner. Why would anyone with a newborn add to her menu a meal that requires more than heating and serving? I really don't remember how it happened. I'll just blame Hattie.
The recipe calls for a whole chicken already cut up. They didn't have that at our local grocery stores. I probably could have looked harder and found one, but when your baby is on a feeding schedule, and your grocery shopping trips have a very specific time limit, you take what you can get.
I asked the guy at the store if it was pretty easy to cut them up. He looked me up and down and replied, "For me? Yeah."
Um, excuse me? Challenge accepted, buddy.
I asked google for information on "how to cut up a whole chicken" and found this tutorial from the New York Times Food section that made it look so simple. Just cut here, and pop there . . . it just kind of came apart for the lady in the video. Oddly enough, it didn't do that for me. The fat lines are not, in fact, a "grid for where to cut", and the joints do not just "appear" when I pop bones certain directions. That tutorial is full of lies and I'm vowing here and now to never subscribe to the NY Times.
It was a disaster. At one point, I considered chucking the whole thing and making something else, but this chicken gave its life for our sustenance and it would be totally ungrateful to just waste it (see that right there . . . that's from watching too much Naked and Afraid). I got the legs off (kind of) and then just decided to throw the whole thing in the pot, NOT cut up, to see what happened.
I let the whole thing boil, and it seemed to be working out okay. When it came time to take it out of the pot and shred the meat, I grabbed a slotted spoon that I THOUGHT would be strong enough to support the chicken, but as I was lifting it out of the pot . . . SPLASH. That sucker fell right back into the broth, leaving my whole kitchen, and me, covered in little bits of chicken. And chicken fat Oh, and not to mention . . . boiling hot water. You don't realize how greasy chicken is until you're having to wipe it off of your floor, cupboard doors and counter tops. And let's not forget that moms of littles don't get to take showers whenever they feel like it. In fact, this post was inspired a few minutes ago when I pulled a tiny bit of chicken out of my hair.
The meal was tasty and Jack even asked to take the leftovers in his lunch. So all's well that ends well, am I right?
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take the first of the 1,000 showers that it will take to get the chicken smell off of me.
Wait, no. I take that back . . . it comes as a surprise to people who don't know me all that well, because it's a bit of a guilty pleasure that I don't advertise that much. But if you really start to engage me in conversation, it's bound to come up and my secret is out. Whether it be something I saw on the news or a quote from HIMYM, the truth always comes out. Please don't judge. Are you judging me? If so, just keep reading, because this post has very little to do with television.
I have a trusty DVR to keep me entertained as I work, cook . . . or breastfeed. One of my favorite things about the first few months of my baby's life is the excuse to lock myself in a room with just her and watch whatever I'd like. Because of my love/hate relationship with breastfeeding, this is sometimes my motivation to keep it up. It's well documented that I think the best time of year to have a baby is right before network sweeps.
Obviously, with each subsequent child that gets more difficult. Right now, I'm often nursing while quizzing Jack on spelling words, pondering Ben's "what if" scenarios and/or reading "Are You My Mother" to Claire for the 55,000th time. But during those late night nursing sessions, or when Kyle's home and I get that chance to sneak away and watch something, I savor every moment.
One show I added to the lineup this time around is the Pioneer Woman's cooking show on Food Network. I love her blog, so I was sure I'd love her show. I can bake pretty well, but I'm not much of a chef. Watching her in the kitchen, though, makes me think that I can do it, too. You just throw a little of this and a little of that into the pot, give it a stir, and viola! A culinary masterpiece! It's truly mesmerizing.
On last week's show, she made chicken and noodles. As I watched her cook and create, I was inspired. It seemed so simple. In a moment of pure stupidity, I added it to my menu as tonight's dinner. Why would anyone with a newborn add to her menu a meal that requires more than heating and serving? I really don't remember how it happened. I'll just blame Hattie.
The recipe calls for a whole chicken already cut up. They didn't have that at our local grocery stores. I probably could have looked harder and found one, but when your baby is on a feeding schedule, and your grocery shopping trips have a very specific time limit, you take what you can get.
I asked the guy at the store if it was pretty easy to cut them up. He looked me up and down and replied, "For me? Yeah."
Um, excuse me? Challenge accepted, buddy.
I asked google for information on "how to cut up a whole chicken" and found this tutorial from the New York Times Food section that made it look so simple. Just cut here, and pop there . . . it just kind of came apart for the lady in the video. Oddly enough, it didn't do that for me. The fat lines are not, in fact, a "grid for where to cut", and the joints do not just "appear" when I pop bones certain directions. That tutorial is full of lies and I'm vowing here and now to never subscribe to the NY Times.
It was a disaster. At one point, I considered chucking the whole thing and making something else, but this chicken gave its life for our sustenance and it would be totally ungrateful to just waste it (see that right there . . . that's from watching too much Naked and Afraid). I got the legs off (kind of) and then just decided to throw the whole thing in the pot, NOT cut up, to see what happened.
I let the whole thing boil, and it seemed to be working out okay. When it came time to take it out of the pot and shred the meat, I grabbed a slotted spoon that I THOUGHT would be strong enough to support the chicken, but as I was lifting it out of the pot . . . SPLASH. That sucker fell right back into the broth, leaving my whole kitchen, and me, covered in little bits of chicken. And chicken fat Oh, and not to mention . . . boiling hot water. You don't realize how greasy chicken is until you're having to wipe it off of your floor, cupboard doors and counter tops. And let's not forget that moms of littles don't get to take showers whenever they feel like it. In fact, this post was inspired a few minutes ago when I pulled a tiny bit of chicken out of my hair.
The meal was tasty and Jack even asked to take the leftovers in his lunch. So all's well that ends well, am I right?
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take the first of the 1,000 showers that it will take to get the chicken smell off of me.
September 28, 2014
Hattie's birth story . . . part 1
I should be sleeping right now. Right? I have four kids, a job, a business to run and I moved into a new house last month. Oh, and a newborn. So sleep is what I should be doing. I'm well aware.
But it's been more than a month since Hattie's arrival and I've written nothing about it. Or about her. This leaves me feeling a little bit guilty, but mostly sad. These days have been no less meaningful than the days after her brothers and sister were born. I'm as in love with her as I was her siblings. Isn't that amazing? That having more children divides my time by 4, but multiplies my love by 4,000? She is so precious. That said, my blogging time is still much less available.
If nothing else, I do need to tell about her birth day. The details are already starting to get foggy - something I didn't think would be possible. But I won't get ahead of myself . . .
This is going to be detailed, because it's for me more than anyone else. I want to remember. Her story isn't all that dramatic or unusual, but it's significant to me. Delivering her into this world was just as life changing and important as it was the first three times I did it.
So here we go . . . on Monday, the 25th, I did something to my back that made it really, really hard to stand up straight. It felt like I'd pinched a nerve in my back and I was kind of hunched as I walked for the first 10 - 15 steps after I stood up. In retrospect, I think the baby had just dropped. Even so, Kyle and I decided that we needed to go furniture shopping. Our old furniture in our new house just wasn't working, and we'd had it for 10 years. It was time. We'd tried to go once before with the kids along, but I just couldn't focus. Imagine that. So this time it was just the two of us.
The salesman made me want to walk out the door from the moment I walked in. He glanced at my swollen belly and said, "WHOA! Shouldn't you be home? Wow! I can't believe it!" Literally those words, with a level of shock in his voice that was . . . well, it was weird. Apparently he'd never seen a pregnant woman before.
I share that story, because it kind of sums up the last 4 months of my pregnancy. Starting in June, people said things about my appearance that were so rude and offensive. I get it . . . I don't carry babies gracefully. I get huge and swollen. But it's not like I'm a tiny person to begin with. I just don't understand why people feel that it's not offensive to make comments like that to pregnant women. Ok, I'm done with that.
We didn't find furniture and I wasn't really in a decision-making mood because of the back pain. I went to bed that night with what felt like a pinched nerve in my back, and no decisions on furniture.
I'd only been sleeping 2- 3 hours each night because of the pain from carpal tunnel (something I'm still dealing with pretty severely), so it wasn't a surprise when I woke up around 3. I went to the bathroom and noticed that my pants were damp. I wondered for a moment if my water had broken. I wasn't having any gushing and the bed wasn't soaked. My pants were just damp. I wondered if I was just thinning out . . . if you've had babies, you know how that goes.
I went to the living room and sat down and thought about how if she came that day, she'd arrive on her actual due date AND share a birthday with her dad. HER DAD! It was Kyle's birthday. I had no big breakfast planned and no gift. As I was trying to think through what I should do for him, I realized that I had leaked through again. So, I went to the bedroom and said, "Happy birthday, Kyle. I'm calling triage." Because really? Who can top the gift of your wife pushing out a baby on your birthday? No one . . . that's who.
So I called triage and the midwife on call wanted me to come in, but I told her I'd wait it out. The one thing I did NOT want was to sit at the hospital waiting for labor to begin. That happened with Jack and Claire and it was not fun. Bennett's labor and delivery was my favorite and I really, really wanted it to go like that. I wanted to labor at home for as long as possible and then head to the hospital. And I wasn't even 100% sure if my water had broken. After all, maybe I'd just wet my pants. She reluctantly agreed as long as I was still feeling good movement from the baby. About an hour later, I had my first contraction.
Contractions were weird and very sporadic. Nothing really time-able. Nonetheless, we decided to head to the hospital just to be checked, but not before another walk through at the furniture store. We took the kids to camp to hang out with Kendra for the morning and arranged for Kyle's mom to pick them up at lunch. Then we came home and did things like, you know, pack our bags, take the car seat out of the box,etc. All of the things that one should do long before her due date. But let me remind you. . . we'd moved into our house (from a trailer) two weeks earlier and were literally living out of boxes.
We packed up and headed out. We hit the furniture store, Target and then sat down to eat a birthday lunch at Outback. I was having contractions every 15 - 20 minutes at that point, but when we started eating, they were coming every 5 - 6 minutes. I made a comment that I wasn't sure that we'd make it through lunch. As soon as the words left my mouth, the contractions stopped.
When we got to the hospital, the contractions were back to being sporadic, I was just barely dilated, and the test to find out whether my water was broken was inconclusive. I was pretty sure she'd send me home. However, my midwife did an ultrasound and found that my fluid was low, so either my water had broken, or my placenta wasn't doing it's job. It was around 4:00 PM that they decided to keep me.
I started balling. I was being admitted and labor wasn't really progressing. This was the opposite of what I wanted to happen. I just wanted to go home and wait. I wanted to put my kids to bed, and keep unpacking boxes until the baby was ready to come. Around that time there was a huge storm rolling through and there were announcements that we were under some sort of warning. I barely remember it because I was so enthralled in my little pity party.
To be continued . . .
But it's been more than a month since Hattie's arrival and I've written nothing about it. Or about her. This leaves me feeling a little bit guilty, but mostly sad. These days have been no less meaningful than the days after her brothers and sister were born. I'm as in love with her as I was her siblings. Isn't that amazing? That having more children divides my time by 4, but multiplies my love by 4,000? She is so precious. That said, my blogging time is still much less available.
If nothing else, I do need to tell about her birth day. The details are already starting to get foggy - something I didn't think would be possible. But I won't get ahead of myself . . .
This is going to be detailed, because it's for me more than anyone else. I want to remember. Her story isn't all that dramatic or unusual, but it's significant to me. Delivering her into this world was just as life changing and important as it was the first three times I did it.
So here we go . . . on Monday, the 25th, I did something to my back that made it really, really hard to stand up straight. It felt like I'd pinched a nerve in my back and I was kind of hunched as I walked for the first 10 - 15 steps after I stood up. In retrospect, I think the baby had just dropped. Even so, Kyle and I decided that we needed to go furniture shopping. Our old furniture in our new house just wasn't working, and we'd had it for 10 years. It was time. We'd tried to go once before with the kids along, but I just couldn't focus. Imagine that. So this time it was just the two of us.
The salesman made me want to walk out the door from the moment I walked in. He glanced at my swollen belly and said, "WHOA! Shouldn't you be home? Wow! I can't believe it!" Literally those words, with a level of shock in his voice that was . . . well, it was weird. Apparently he'd never seen a pregnant woman before.
I share that story, because it kind of sums up the last 4 months of my pregnancy. Starting in June, people said things about my appearance that were so rude and offensive. I get it . . . I don't carry babies gracefully. I get huge and swollen. But it's not like I'm a tiny person to begin with. I just don't understand why people feel that it's not offensive to make comments like that to pregnant women. Ok, I'm done with that.
We didn't find furniture and I wasn't really in a decision-making mood because of the back pain. I went to bed that night with what felt like a pinched nerve in my back, and no decisions on furniture.
I'd only been sleeping 2- 3 hours each night because of the pain from carpal tunnel (something I'm still dealing with pretty severely), so it wasn't a surprise when I woke up around 3. I went to the bathroom and noticed that my pants were damp. I wondered for a moment if my water had broken. I wasn't having any gushing and the bed wasn't soaked. My pants were just damp. I wondered if I was just thinning out . . . if you've had babies, you know how that goes.
I went to the living room and sat down and thought about how if she came that day, she'd arrive on her actual due date AND share a birthday with her dad. HER DAD! It was Kyle's birthday. I had no big breakfast planned and no gift. As I was trying to think through what I should do for him, I realized that I had leaked through again. So, I went to the bedroom and said, "Happy birthday, Kyle. I'm calling triage." Because really? Who can top the gift of your wife pushing out a baby on your birthday? No one . . . that's who.
 |
| I spent that morning cutting vinyl letters for over the girls' beds. |
So I called triage and the midwife on call wanted me to come in, but I told her I'd wait it out. The one thing I did NOT want was to sit at the hospital waiting for labor to begin. That happened with Jack and Claire and it was not fun. Bennett's labor and delivery was my favorite and I really, really wanted it to go like that. I wanted to labor at home for as long as possible and then head to the hospital. And I wasn't even 100% sure if my water had broken. After all, maybe I'd just wet my pants. She reluctantly agreed as long as I was still feeling good movement from the baby. About an hour later, I had my first contraction.
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| The (very early) morning of the 26th |
We packed up and headed out. We hit the furniture store, Target and then sat down to eat a birthday lunch at Outback. I was having contractions every 15 - 20 minutes at that point, but when we started eating, they were coming every 5 - 6 minutes. I made a comment that I wasn't sure that we'd make it through lunch. As soon as the words left my mouth, the contractions stopped.
When we got to the hospital, the contractions were back to being sporadic, I was just barely dilated, and the test to find out whether my water was broken was inconclusive. I was pretty sure she'd send me home. However, my midwife did an ultrasound and found that my fluid was low, so either my water had broken, or my placenta wasn't doing it's job. It was around 4:00 PM that they decided to keep me.
I started balling. I was being admitted and labor wasn't really progressing. This was the opposite of what I wanted to happen. I just wanted to go home and wait. I wanted to put my kids to bed, and keep unpacking boxes until the baby was ready to come. Around that time there was a huge storm rolling through and there were announcements that we were under some sort of warning. I barely remember it because I was so enthralled in my little pity party.
To be continued . . .
August 26, 2014
On pregnancy #4
I'm sitting here, feeling contractions and knowing that this baby girl will likely come today or tomorrow and feeling panicked because I haven't recorded much about this pregnancy. I suppose it's to be expected by baby #4 . . . there's no time to sit down and write.
I've had as much, if not more, swelling with this pregnancy than I did with Jack's. I didn't have much swelling or carpal tunnel issues with Ben or Claire. But this time around it's awful. I think it was exacerbated by all of the painting . . . I'm not sure it would be this bad otherwise.
I'm so excited to meet Hattie and to not be pregnant, but I'm really, really sad for this pregnancy to be over. It's my last, and I feel like I'm saying goodbye to an old friend. Part of me is elated that I'll NEVER HAVE TO DO THIS AGAIN! Another part of me is so sad that I'll never GET to do this again.
I've been much more relaxed with this pregnancy, likely because I've been so consumed with busyness and moving that I haven't had much time to think about anything else. I feel like Hattie moves less than the others did at this stage, but it might just be that I sit still less than I did at this stage with the others.
Watching Jack, Ben and Claire prepare for a new sister has been fun. Claire calls all of her dolls "Hattie" and "baby sister." She bathes them, changes their diaper and is overall pretty gentle and loving. I hope it stays that way!
Jack has become pretty helpful, and won't let me carry anything. Even pizza boxes. I think he's seen Kyle take care of me in that way and feels like he should, too.
Every time I ask or tell Bennett to do something, he says, "Because you're pregnant?" It's funny.
All three of them hug and kiss my belly. They talk to Hattie and laugh when she moves. When Claire asks Hattie questions like, "Do you love your big sister?" I'll gasp and say, "She just shook her tushie!" and Claire cracks up like it's the funniest thing she's ever heard.
I've had a LOT of trouble sleeping over the last 2 weeks, mainly because my hands hurt so bad from the carpal tunnel. On the bright side I've had lots of extra time to paint, unpack, etc.
I'm so excited to meet this little girl, and while being pregnant isn't my favorite, I feel so, so fortunate to have the privilege of carrying her.
I've had as much, if not more, swelling with this pregnancy than I did with Jack's. I didn't have much swelling or carpal tunnel issues with Ben or Claire. But this time around it's awful. I think it was exacerbated by all of the painting . . . I'm not sure it would be this bad otherwise.
I'm so excited to meet Hattie and to not be pregnant, but I'm really, really sad for this pregnancy to be over. It's my last, and I feel like I'm saying goodbye to an old friend. Part of me is elated that I'll NEVER HAVE TO DO THIS AGAIN! Another part of me is so sad that I'll never GET to do this again.
I've been much more relaxed with this pregnancy, likely because I've been so consumed with busyness and moving that I haven't had much time to think about anything else. I feel like Hattie moves less than the others did at this stage, but it might just be that I sit still less than I did at this stage with the others.
Watching Jack, Ben and Claire prepare for a new sister has been fun. Claire calls all of her dolls "Hattie" and "baby sister." She bathes them, changes their diaper and is overall pretty gentle and loving. I hope it stays that way!
Jack has become pretty helpful, and won't let me carry anything. Even pizza boxes. I think he's seen Kyle take care of me in that way and feels like he should, too.
Every time I ask or tell Bennett to do something, he says, "Because you're pregnant?" It's funny.
All three of them hug and kiss my belly. They talk to Hattie and laugh when she moves. When Claire asks Hattie questions like, "Do you love your big sister?" I'll gasp and say, "She just shook her tushie!" and Claire cracks up like it's the funniest thing she's ever heard.
I've had a LOT of trouble sleeping over the last 2 weeks, mainly because my hands hurt so bad from the carpal tunnel. On the bright side I've had lots of extra time to paint, unpack, etc.
I'm so excited to meet this little girl, and while being pregnant isn't my favorite, I feel so, so fortunate to have the privilege of carrying her.
August 25, 2014
Backing up
We're in our new house!
But let's back up a little. We were out of our old house on the 26th. That last night was an emotional one. I watched Claire fall to sleep in her crib for the last time and then tucked the boys into their bunk beds. Jack was openly emotional, but Ben was just struggling to keep it together. Kyle and I were both overwhelmed with nostalgia and spent time talking about our years at 11534 Hillary Drive.
We are SO fortunate to have as many friends and family as we do who were able to help us move. Our small group came on Friday to help us pack up our uhaul and take it to storage. On Saturday, quite a few of our summer staff came to help us pack up the last of our belongings.
We took the kids to my parents that night, and Kyle and I got the trailer ready to live in. We're so grateful that Kyle's parents let us use their trailer, so that we didn't have to rent anything.
That first morning, we woke up, and I just sat on the edge of the bed and cried. Like, ugly cried. I was just so sad to leave our home, and so uncertain about when we'd move into our new house. At some point during that next week, our closing was moved to "on or before August 21."
We cleaned out the house over the next few days, and both Kyle and I were emotional about leaving. We came into that house as a couple and left as a family of 5 1/2. We have so many memories there, but now most of our kids' memories will be in a new place.
We were in the trailer for a little more than 2 weeks. There were good times and bad times, for sure. Bedtime was rough because they all just wanted to play. Claire didn't sleep well, and when she woke up, EVERYONE was awake. On the second night, she woke up around 4, so she and I went for a drive. We went to Walmart and were the first in line when Starbucks opened that morning.
I didn't sleep well. A little because we were in a trailer, but mostly because I'm pregnant. At home, I'd watch tv or do laundry, but in the trailer I couldn't move without waking someone up.
We did have good times. It was nice to be together as a family and enjoy living at camp. It was almost like a little "reset." We weren't packing. We weren't unpacking. It was just some in between time.
We closed on our house on August 4, and the previous owners were out on August 9 . . . my 36th birthday. We spent my birthday sitting around waiting for the call that they'd moved out. As soon as Kyle got that text, we loaded up and headed to the house. The kids hadn't seen it before and it was so fun to watch them run around and explore.
It's been a little more than 2 weeks, and we're feeling semi-settled. Most of our belongings are in boxes, but the bedrooms are unpacked and livable, which was what I'd hoped to accomplish pre-baby.
But let's back up a little. We were out of our old house on the 26th. That last night was an emotional one. I watched Claire fall to sleep in her crib for the last time and then tucked the boys into their bunk beds. Jack was openly emotional, but Ben was just struggling to keep it together. Kyle and I were both overwhelmed with nostalgia and spent time talking about our years at 11534 Hillary Drive.
We are SO fortunate to have as many friends and family as we do who were able to help us move. Our small group came on Friday to help us pack up our uhaul and take it to storage. On Saturday, quite a few of our summer staff came to help us pack up the last of our belongings.
We took the kids to my parents that night, and Kyle and I got the trailer ready to live in. We're so grateful that Kyle's parents let us use their trailer, so that we didn't have to rent anything.
That first morning, we woke up, and I just sat on the edge of the bed and cried. Like, ugly cried. I was just so sad to leave our home, and so uncertain about when we'd move into our new house. At some point during that next week, our closing was moved to "on or before August 21."
We cleaned out the house over the next few days, and both Kyle and I were emotional about leaving. We came into that house as a couple and left as a family of 5 1/2. We have so many memories there, but now most of our kids' memories will be in a new place.
We were in the trailer for a little more than 2 weeks. There were good times and bad times, for sure. Bedtime was rough because they all just wanted to play. Claire didn't sleep well, and when she woke up, EVERYONE was awake. On the second night, she woke up around 4, so she and I went for a drive. We went to Walmart and were the first in line when Starbucks opened that morning.
I didn't sleep well. A little because we were in a trailer, but mostly because I'm pregnant. At home, I'd watch tv or do laundry, but in the trailer I couldn't move without waking someone up.
We did have good times. It was nice to be together as a family and enjoy living at camp. It was almost like a little "reset." We weren't packing. We weren't unpacking. It was just some in between time.
We closed on our house on August 4, and the previous owners were out on August 9 . . . my 36th birthday. We spent my birthday sitting around waiting for the call that they'd moved out. As soon as Kyle got that text, we loaded up and headed to the house. The kids hadn't seen it before and it was so fun to watch them run around and explore.
It's been a little more than 2 weeks, and we're feeling semi-settled. Most of our belongings are in boxes, but the bedrooms are unpacked and livable, which was what I'd hoped to accomplish pre-baby.
July 29, 2014
Delays
Our original closing date on our new house was July 25. Last Friday. Alas, we have not closed on our new house.
It was pushed to August 1. One week isn't a big deal . . . unless you're 36 weeks pregnant. I feel like I'm a ticking time bomb.
And then over the weekend, we found that it might be pushed even farther. There are a few annoying factors that go into the delays, none of which are in our control. Let's just say that I wish that each person responsible for the closing of this deal were required to sleep with Claire in this trailer every night. That would get things moving.
I don't know how many times I've offered the "please help things go smoothly" prayer over the last month. Probably hundreds.
On Friday night, shortly after learning about the most recent delay, we were driving to return our uhaul as I began to cry and ask God to just push this thing through. That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks: I'm not sure God's as worried about the progress of our mortgage as much as He's concerned with the state of my heart. Maybe none of this is about getting our family into a house before baby #4 comes. Maybe it's all about learning to trust Him, and know that He's ultimately in control. Maybe this is about surrender.
Kyle and I stayed in the trailer for the first time Saturday night. The kids were at my parents. I woke up around 5:30 and was doing my best to not completely lose it. By 6:00, I'd decided that I'd better just let it all out while the kids aren't here, and cried for about an hour. My sobs eventually woke Kyle up and we decided to go for breakfast. The whole day ended up being kind of a disaster, and the emotion of being at the house for the last time added to it.
I'm trying to hard to just trust God, but when I'm driving around with my 2-year-old AT 4 in the morning so that she won't wake her brothers up in the trailer we're all sharing, all I can do is cry. But my prayers have changed. When I worry, I pray that he'll use this to increase my dependance on Him. When I stress out, I pray for peace. When I hear about more delays, I pray for patience with our current living situation. The house will close when the house closes, no matter how much I stress out or worry about it.
It was pushed to August 1. One week isn't a big deal . . . unless you're 36 weeks pregnant. I feel like I'm a ticking time bomb.
And then over the weekend, we found that it might be pushed even farther. There are a few annoying factors that go into the delays, none of which are in our control. Let's just say that I wish that each person responsible for the closing of this deal were required to sleep with Claire in this trailer every night. That would get things moving.
I don't know how many times I've offered the "please help things go smoothly" prayer over the last month. Probably hundreds.
On Friday night, shortly after learning about the most recent delay, we were driving to return our uhaul as I began to cry and ask God to just push this thing through. That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks: I'm not sure God's as worried about the progress of our mortgage as much as He's concerned with the state of my heart. Maybe none of this is about getting our family into a house before baby #4 comes. Maybe it's all about learning to trust Him, and know that He's ultimately in control. Maybe this is about surrender.
Kyle and I stayed in the trailer for the first time Saturday night. The kids were at my parents. I woke up around 5:30 and was doing my best to not completely lose it. By 6:00, I'd decided that I'd better just let it all out while the kids aren't here, and cried for about an hour. My sobs eventually woke Kyle up and we decided to go for breakfast. The whole day ended up being kind of a disaster, and the emotion of being at the house for the last time added to it.
I'm trying to hard to just trust God, but when I'm driving around with my 2-year-old AT 4 in the morning so that she won't wake her brothers up in the trailer we're all sharing, all I can do is cry. But my prayers have changed. When I worry, I pray that he'll use this to increase my dependance on Him. When I stress out, I pray for peace. When I hear about more delays, I pray for patience with our current living situation. The house will close when the house closes, no matter how much I stress out or worry about it.
July 27, 2014
The nursery
That room was green, with an airplane theme when Jack came home from the hospital. I so badly wanted the room to be perfect. I had everything ready.
The planes were still up when Bennett came home, but by the time he was 6ish months old, it was painted light blue and had a rocket/space theme. I started designing artwork for the walls, but Claire came along before I ever finished it.
For Claire, we painted it gray. Twice. The first gray looked too purple. We used pink and gray as the colors, and again, I have half finished artwork that I would have hung in there.
I remember before Jack was born, sitting in there and wondering what it would be like to rock a baby to sleep. I've spent hundreds of hours in that room praying for them and dreaming about who they'll be come someday. It's always been a place for cuddling and caring for whoever happened to be living in that room at the time.
July 24, 2014
The bowling alley
One of the things I don't want to forget about this house is the bowling alley.
This photo is taken from the doorway of our bedroom. Claire's room is at the very end of the hall and the boys' room is the second door on the right.
We nicknamed it "the bowling alley" because of the sounds we'd hear out there every morning, especially in the winter when the whole house was still dark. One or two of them would get out of bed and sprint down the hall to our room. The sound that they would make when they got out of bed reminded us of being at a bowling alley. They'd get a running start from their doorway and then would crash into our bedroom door to open it . . . rarely turning the knob. We'd hear a door creak and then, "BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM CRASH!"
The sound wasn't always welcome. Often we'd groan when we heard the creaking door and the foot steps winding up for the crash, but it's one of those things we've become so familiar with and one of those things I don't want to forget.
July 23, 2014
Shopping with Mama
Claire and I had to run errands in town yesterday, and we honestly had a lot of fun. It's hard to believe that a couple of months ago, I dreaded going anywhere with her in the car because she would scream the entire time.
Our first stop was at Sam's Club and I got her a soft pretzel for a snack, which was a big deal because her brothers weren't there so she didn't have to share. Of course, she only ate about 3 bites, but still . . . there was no sharing involved so she was happy.
From there, we went to Walmart. In general, I avoid Walmart, but it's the easiest place to make purchases at for camp. I'd been warned by some shoppers at Sam's Club that the air conditioning was out, and it was, but the temperatures weren't as bad as I'd anticipated.
We had a rather long list and Claire was relatively patient while we searched for everything. She was doing a lot of yelling, so we talked quite a bit about indoor and outdoor voices, but she was pretty set on using her outside voice for everything.
We filled our cart and got in line at check out. As we waited, I noticed her staring at the back of woman ahead of us. I looked up at the woman and then looked back at Claire and could just see the wheels turning. Everything at that point seemed to be moving in slow motion. Before I could distract her, she laughed and said (in an outside voice, of course), "HA! HA! I SEE YOUR UNDIES!" It was in the exact same tone and with the same level of joy in which she hears her brothers tease each other. Perfect.
Fortunately, the women in front of us had a good sense of humor. She pulled down her shirt a little in the back and we all laughed . . . my face a little more red than the others.
We had two separate orders on the belt. I paid for them both, loaded them into the cart and we started toward the exit. Claire noticed that the large bags of bird seed and the gallon of milk weren't in shopping bags and said (again, in an outside voice), "WE DIDN'T PAY FOR THIS STUFF!"
I assured her that we did and pointed to the receipts that I had let her hold . . . but she's 2 1/2, so if it's not in a bag, it's not paid for. She continued to yell, "WE DIDN'T PAY FOR THIS STUFF! WE DIDN'T PAY FOR THIS STUFF!" while I waved the receipts and laughed nervously as bypassers stared, wondering who was telling the truth. We approached the exit and Claire got very serious and wide-eyed and looked at the greeter and whispered, "WE DIDN'T PAY FOR THIS STUFF!" He just laughed as I nervously waved my receipts, assuring him that we'd paid for everything in my cart.
I can laugh about it now. Actually, I was laughing all the way out to the car. It was mildly embarrassing, and very amusing. I'll take this kind of thing over screaming and fits any day!
Our first stop was at Sam's Club and I got her a soft pretzel for a snack, which was a big deal because her brothers weren't there so she didn't have to share. Of course, she only ate about 3 bites, but still . . . there was no sharing involved so she was happy.
From there, we went to Walmart. In general, I avoid Walmart, but it's the easiest place to make purchases at for camp. I'd been warned by some shoppers at Sam's Club that the air conditioning was out, and it was, but the temperatures weren't as bad as I'd anticipated.
We had a rather long list and Claire was relatively patient while we searched for everything. She was doing a lot of yelling, so we talked quite a bit about indoor and outdoor voices, but she was pretty set on using her outside voice for everything.
We filled our cart and got in line at check out. As we waited, I noticed her staring at the back of woman ahead of us. I looked up at the woman and then looked back at Claire and could just see the wheels turning. Everything at that point seemed to be moving in slow motion. Before I could distract her, she laughed and said (in an outside voice, of course), "HA! HA! I SEE YOUR UNDIES!" It was in the exact same tone and with the same level of joy in which she hears her brothers tease each other. Perfect.
Fortunately, the women in front of us had a good sense of humor. She pulled down her shirt a little in the back and we all laughed . . . my face a little more red than the others.
We had two separate orders on the belt. I paid for them both, loaded them into the cart and we started toward the exit. Claire noticed that the large bags of bird seed and the gallon of milk weren't in shopping bags and said (again, in an outside voice), "WE DIDN'T PAY FOR THIS STUFF!"
I assured her that we did and pointed to the receipts that I had let her hold . . . but she's 2 1/2, so if it's not in a bag, it's not paid for. She continued to yell, "WE DIDN'T PAY FOR THIS STUFF! WE DIDN'T PAY FOR THIS STUFF!" while I waved the receipts and laughed nervously as bypassers stared, wondering who was telling the truth. We approached the exit and Claire got very serious and wide-eyed and looked at the greeter and whispered, "WE DIDN'T PAY FOR THIS STUFF!" He just laughed as I nervously waved my receipts, assuring him that we'd paid for everything in my cart.
I can laugh about it now. Actually, I was laughing all the way out to the car. It was mildly embarrassing, and very amusing. I'll take this kind of thing over screaming and fits any day!
July 20, 2014
Where we're at right now . . .
June/July 2014 has been the most stressful time in my life thus far. I realize that this makes me pretty fortunate . . . if this is as stressful as it gets, I'll consider myself lucky. Nonetheless, it's been a lot to handle. The
sentimentality over moving our family out of our home, the pressure of
trying to get packed up, the busyness at work, the anxiety about living
in a trailer for a few weeks, the uncertainty of when we'll close on our
new house, the apprehension about baby #4 . . . it's all catching up
with me this morning. Here's what's going on with us right now:
Musical Houses. We currently don't own a home, and that's just weird. We closed on the sale of our house on June 30 and we have to be out by July 30. We're in contract on a new house in Spring Arbor, and aren't sure of a closing date. As you can imagine, this is stressful. I think I'll be able to calm down a little when we have that settled. We have a trailer set up at camp and are moving over the course of the next two Saturdays. Once we close, the owners will have 7 days to be out. We'll stay in the trailer until we close on and gain occupancy to our new house. I've been so nervous about things with the new house falling through. I really have no reason to think that, but my mind always goes to the worst case scenario. It's just a gift I have.
The state of our house is like nothing I've ever lived in before. Boxes everywhere, laundry piled in corners, the kitchen is empty, but we have paper plates, dishes and snacks out on the counter . . . it's a mess. Living in a state of chaos has always stressed me out, but the fact that I can't just go clean up is maddening. I'm on a no-lift restriction which is a little unrealistic, given that I have a 2 1/2 year old that often ONLY wants Mom.
Getting ready to leave our house has been so emotionally taxing. We're the only family to ever have lived here and it's all our kids have ever known. It breaks my heart to think that Claire will have no recollection of this home and Ben's memory will be spotty. Jack will remember the most, but those memories will start to fade. This home has been such an important part of our life, and leaving is tearing me apart.
Packing up. We have a lot of stuff. I don't know how that happened, but I've decided that from here on out, we'll pretend to get ready to move once every 3 years to help with clutter control. The craziest thing is the furniture that we managed to get INTO the basement, that we're having trouble getting out now. We're having to move all of our belongings into 3 storage units until we have occupancy of our house. So we get to move twice. Lucky us.
I so badly wish we could afford to higher packers and movers. That would be lovely.
The Summer. We are currently in the middle of our busiest time of the entire year. Right now. In the middle of a very stressful move. It's fun how that came together like that, right? Our patience is so thin and our nerves are fried. I'm finding myself responding to people, my children included, in ways that I'm not proud of. Doing our jobs well during a normal summer is a lot of work, but this summer it's even more so. On top of normal summer stuff, I'm trying to prepare for maternity leave this fall and get all of my late August/September projects done now.
We're also having to think through how things will work at camp with us living about 20 minutes away, instead of 5 minutes away. I don't think it will affect our actual work day all that much, but it might affect how often we eat meals at camp, or just go there to let the kids run around. It's just going to be a change in how we operate as a family, and that's hard for me to wrap my head around.
The Baby. I woke up a couple of mornings ago and said, "I feel WAY more pregnant than I did when I went to sleep last night." I have 5 1/2 weeks left until my due date, and even though I feel huge, I so badly want to be settled into a home before this little girl arrives; but, all of the golf carts at camp are out of order, so I've been doing a lot of walking and I can just feel her starting to drop. Never have I wanted a baby to come after her due date like I have with this one. I haven't been sleeping more than 3 - 4 hours a night, which adds to my lack of patience and energy. She moved SO much . . . more than the other three . . . but she's slowed down in the last few days.
I had an appointment on Thursday and found out that she's flipped and is no longer head down. As you can imagine, this has stressed me out. I'm praying that she gets her little behind back where it belongs before labor starts.
My vision has been getting really blurry and I'm becoming nearsighted. I know this is a common side effect of pregnancy, but I've never experienced it before. Just one more thing.
The Kids. This week I'm realizing how much all of the impending change and uncertainty is affecting them. They know that their lives are about to change quite a bit . . . not just moving houses, but moving farther away from camp. I don't think I've thought enough about how they're affected by this. Plus, they've been getting to bed 2 - 3 hours past bedtime every night. Lack of sleep is really affecting our entire family right now!
I've not been the model of excellent parenting, and they've been yelled at for little things way more than they should have been. Last night, in the middle of me giving them instructions for bedtime, Jack asked for a glass of water and I said, "CAN YOU PLEASE THINK OF SOMEONE ELSE FOR JUST ONE MINUTE!" Let me say this again: He asked me for a glass of water. He was just thirsty. And he's 7-years-old.
I find myself praying daily that they'll not remember this time all that clearly and that no permanent damage will be done to my relationship with them. I've done A LOT of apologizing and even more crying in front of them.
After I put the kids to bed, Jack came into our room crying and told me he didn't really want to move. He feels the same way about change that I do . . . sad. It's hard, too, because I don't want to get them all pumped up about our new house until we have a closing date. We talked about how the only thing that makes our house special is that we all live here, and that once we're not here, it won't really be all that special anymore. I only half believed myself.
Praying. I've been praying so much. Praying that we close soon and smoothly on our new home. Praying that my kids won't be damaged by this move. Praying that I'll be able to sleep in a camper. Praying that Claire won't flip out when we have to shower in the Field House every day for a few weeks. Praying that this baby stays put for a little while longer.
Most of all, I'm praying that this will be a good change for our family . . . something that will bring us closer and that God will use for His good and will draw us closer to Him through it.
Musical Houses. We currently don't own a home, and that's just weird. We closed on the sale of our house on June 30 and we have to be out by July 30. We're in contract on a new house in Spring Arbor, and aren't sure of a closing date. As you can imagine, this is stressful. I think I'll be able to calm down a little when we have that settled. We have a trailer set up at camp and are moving over the course of the next two Saturdays. Once we close, the owners will have 7 days to be out. We'll stay in the trailer until we close on and gain occupancy to our new house. I've been so nervous about things with the new house falling through. I really have no reason to think that, but my mind always goes to the worst case scenario. It's just a gift I have.
The state of our house is like nothing I've ever lived in before. Boxes everywhere, laundry piled in corners, the kitchen is empty, but we have paper plates, dishes and snacks out on the counter . . . it's a mess. Living in a state of chaos has always stressed me out, but the fact that I can't just go clean up is maddening. I'm on a no-lift restriction which is a little unrealistic, given that I have a 2 1/2 year old that often ONLY wants Mom.
Getting ready to leave our house has been so emotionally taxing. We're the only family to ever have lived here and it's all our kids have ever known. It breaks my heart to think that Claire will have no recollection of this home and Ben's memory will be spotty. Jack will remember the most, but those memories will start to fade. This home has been such an important part of our life, and leaving is tearing me apart.
Packing up. We have a lot of stuff. I don't know how that happened, but I've decided that from here on out, we'll pretend to get ready to move once every 3 years to help with clutter control. The craziest thing is the furniture that we managed to get INTO the basement, that we're having trouble getting out now. We're having to move all of our belongings into 3 storage units until we have occupancy of our house. So we get to move twice. Lucky us.
I so badly wish we could afford to higher packers and movers. That would be lovely.
The Summer. We are currently in the middle of our busiest time of the entire year. Right now. In the middle of a very stressful move. It's fun how that came together like that, right? Our patience is so thin and our nerves are fried. I'm finding myself responding to people, my children included, in ways that I'm not proud of. Doing our jobs well during a normal summer is a lot of work, but this summer it's even more so. On top of normal summer stuff, I'm trying to prepare for maternity leave this fall and get all of my late August/September projects done now.
We're also having to think through how things will work at camp with us living about 20 minutes away, instead of 5 minutes away. I don't think it will affect our actual work day all that much, but it might affect how often we eat meals at camp, or just go there to let the kids run around. It's just going to be a change in how we operate as a family, and that's hard for me to wrap my head around.
The Baby. I woke up a couple of mornings ago and said, "I feel WAY more pregnant than I did when I went to sleep last night." I have 5 1/2 weeks left until my due date, and even though I feel huge, I so badly want to be settled into a home before this little girl arrives; but, all of the golf carts at camp are out of order, so I've been doing a lot of walking and I can just feel her starting to drop. Never have I wanted a baby to come after her due date like I have with this one. I haven't been sleeping more than 3 - 4 hours a night, which adds to my lack of patience and energy. She moved SO much . . . more than the other three . . . but she's slowed down in the last few days.
I had an appointment on Thursday and found out that she's flipped and is no longer head down. As you can imagine, this has stressed me out. I'm praying that she gets her little behind back where it belongs before labor starts.
My vision has been getting really blurry and I'm becoming nearsighted. I know this is a common side effect of pregnancy, but I've never experienced it before. Just one more thing.
The Kids. This week I'm realizing how much all of the impending change and uncertainty is affecting them. They know that their lives are about to change quite a bit . . . not just moving houses, but moving farther away from camp. I don't think I've thought enough about how they're affected by this. Plus, they've been getting to bed 2 - 3 hours past bedtime every night. Lack of sleep is really affecting our entire family right now!
I've not been the model of excellent parenting, and they've been yelled at for little things way more than they should have been. Last night, in the middle of me giving them instructions for bedtime, Jack asked for a glass of water and I said, "CAN YOU PLEASE THINK OF SOMEONE ELSE FOR JUST ONE MINUTE!" Let me say this again: He asked me for a glass of water. He was just thirsty. And he's 7-years-old.
I find myself praying daily that they'll not remember this time all that clearly and that no permanent damage will be done to my relationship with them. I've done A LOT of apologizing and even more crying in front of them.
After I put the kids to bed, Jack came into our room crying and told me he didn't really want to move. He feels the same way about change that I do . . . sad. It's hard, too, because I don't want to get them all pumped up about our new house until we have a closing date. We talked about how the only thing that makes our house special is that we all live here, and that once we're not here, it won't really be all that special anymore. I only half believed myself.
Praying. I've been praying so much. Praying that we close soon and smoothly on our new home. Praying that my kids won't be damaged by this move. Praying that I'll be able to sleep in a camper. Praying that Claire won't flip out when we have to shower in the Field House every day for a few weeks. Praying that this baby stays put for a little while longer.
Most of all, I'm praying that this will be a good change for our family . . . something that will bring us closer and that God will use for His good and will draw us closer to Him through it.
June 28, 2014
Grandpa Luke
I'm so proud to have called Bill Luke "grandpa" for 11 1/2 years. He
loved his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren so well. Words
can't express how thankful I am for the legacy he left and the
forever-impact that it's had on our family. We're thankful that he's
healed, whole and with Jesus, but we miss him tremendously.
He passed away on Father's Day. He had the ultimate Father's Day with his heavenly Father, I suppose. It's still hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that he's gone. His trailer still sits on his campsite at camp, and I catch myself glancing over to see if he's sitting out in his lounge chair.
I think his passing will really sink in for me during Family Camp when he's not hauling coffee to the tents and I don't have him down the hall from my office counting offering or calling me with service attendance numbers.
Long before Kyle and I were married, engaged or even dating, I referred to his grandpa as "Gramps." Everyone who worked at camp did. Back then, he and grandma took care of all of the gardening and flowers, but I think their primary role was getting to know the staff and making us all feel loved.
My grandpas and one of my grandmas passed away before Kyle and I were married. My Grandpa Haskin died when I was 4, my grandma Haskin died when I was 11, and my Grandpa Wietholter died a few months before Kyle and I were engaged. So when I joined Kyle's family, I was more than thankful for another set of grandparents. And from day one, I felt like I was one of their own.
One of my favorite memories about Grandpa Luke might be the night Kyle and I got engaged. He was so excited for us . . . but he kept telling everyone, "I'm going to be a great grandpa!" We had to keep reminding him that sharing the news that way was going to give people the wrong idea, but it didn't stop him. He was just so proud he was of his grandchildren and was just as proud (5 years later) of his great grandchildren.
We remembered Grandpa Luke at a memorial service yesterday and it was beautiful. It was packed out with people who had been influenced by Kyle's grandparents in some way. I was so overwhelmed with the fact that there was no mistake as to what Grandpa Luke's life was all about.
Kyle and I talked on the way home about his grandpa's legacy and how we can be intentional about passing that on to our children. How can we live in a way that leaves them with no questions about what our lives are about? We're grateful for Grandpa's life, and for how much he loved Jesus. We're thankful for the example he and Grandma set in their 60 years of marriage and his faithfulness to her, even as her memory has faded over the last few years and she was moved to a nursing home.
We gave the option of whether or not to come into the service with us and he chose to. It was very emotional for him, but I'm glad that he did. I'm thankful that he got to hear about his great grandpa and the things that were important to him. I ended up having to get up and sit in the back with Claire because she wasn't all that excited about staying in the nursery, so I'm glad that Kyle had Jack there with him.
When we sang "How Great Thou Art" Claire's eyes lit up and she said, "I LOVE THIS SONG!" And then we we closed with the doxology, she belted it out just like she does at bedtime. Claire will have no memory of Grandpa Luke, and Ben's memories will be sparse, but the legacy he left for them will be something that we never let them forget.
He passed away on Father's Day. He had the ultimate Father's Day with his heavenly Father, I suppose. It's still hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that he's gone. His trailer still sits on his campsite at camp, and I catch myself glancing over to see if he's sitting out in his lounge chair.
I think his passing will really sink in for me during Family Camp when he's not hauling coffee to the tents and I don't have him down the hall from my office counting offering or calling me with service attendance numbers.
Long before Kyle and I were married, engaged or even dating, I referred to his grandpa as "Gramps." Everyone who worked at camp did. Back then, he and grandma took care of all of the gardening and flowers, but I think their primary role was getting to know the staff and making us all feel loved.
My grandpas and one of my grandmas passed away before Kyle and I were married. My Grandpa Haskin died when I was 4, my grandma Haskin died when I was 11, and my Grandpa Wietholter died a few months before Kyle and I were engaged. So when I joined Kyle's family, I was more than thankful for another set of grandparents. And from day one, I felt like I was one of their own.
One of my favorite memories about Grandpa Luke might be the night Kyle and I got engaged. He was so excited for us . . . but he kept telling everyone, "I'm going to be a great grandpa!" We had to keep reminding him that sharing the news that way was going to give people the wrong idea, but it didn't stop him. He was just so proud he was of his grandchildren and was just as proud (5 years later) of his great grandchildren.
We remembered Grandpa Luke at a memorial service yesterday and it was beautiful. It was packed out with people who had been influenced by Kyle's grandparents in some way. I was so overwhelmed with the fact that there was no mistake as to what Grandpa Luke's life was all about.
Kyle and I talked on the way home about his grandpa's legacy and how we can be intentional about passing that on to our children. How can we live in a way that leaves them with no questions about what our lives are about? We're grateful for Grandpa's life, and for how much he loved Jesus. We're thankful for the example he and Grandma set in their 60 years of marriage and his faithfulness to her, even as her memory has faded over the last few years and she was moved to a nursing home.
We gave the option of whether or not to come into the service with us and he chose to. It was very emotional for him, but I'm glad that he did. I'm thankful that he got to hear about his great grandpa and the things that were important to him. I ended up having to get up and sit in the back with Claire because she wasn't all that excited about staying in the nursery, so I'm glad that Kyle had Jack there with him.
When we sang "How Great Thou Art" Claire's eyes lit up and she said, "I LOVE THIS SONG!" And then we we closed with the doxology, she belted it out just like she does at bedtime. Claire will have no memory of Grandpa Luke, and Ben's memories will be sparse, but the legacy he left for them will be something that we never let them forget.
June 9, 2014
Home
This living room is where Ben and Claire both took their first steps. Ben started from the wall under the pictures and toddled across to the wall with the sliding door. With Claire, the Christmas tree was up in the corner, and we were giving her ornaments to carry for the few steps that it took her to get there.
This living room is where I have my most vivid memory of bringing Jack home . . . Kyle holding him while Murphy (our dog) jumped up trying to get a peek at her new little friend.
My kids played here while I made dinner. I dug toys out from under the chairs and loveseat almost every night. Kyle and I sat in this room after the kids were in bed on so many evenings . . . sometimes laughing and sometimes crying.
I remember laying on the floor next to the fireplace when I was pregnant with Jack and finding out the hard way how hot the glass is . . . which led us to purchase that screen the very next day.
I remember sitting in the arm chairs and nursing each of my babies late at night. I remember watching movies with my mom there when she stayed with me after Jack was born.
Looking at this room, I see kids hunched over those bins in the corner, digging through the toys to find the one they want, while the toys they toss aside make music or siren noises.
I see each of my kids as babies, laying on a blanket in the middle of the floor, or under a baby gym.
I see our small group meeting while our kids play in the basement, and I can almost smell the coffee brewing.
In about a month, this living room will be a memory. Last week, only 10 days after listing our house, we signed a purchase agreement. Done. Sold. In a week or so, we'll close and then we have to be out in 30 days. We've lived here for 9.5 years and I really did think that we'd be here forever. I love this house. It's crowded, but still . . . I love it. I'm so sad to leave.
But I know that it's what we need to do. I'm praying that something opens up soon, because the pickings are slim right now. We've seen a few that we like, but nothing we've loved. I've looked at every listing in Jackson County and refresh my realtor.com app at least once an hour. I'm doing my best not to panic.
Meanwhile, you can expect more of these sentimental posts about this house and how much I'll miss it.
May 14, 2014
Things are looking up . . .
The first three days of this week have contained more good than the previous two weeks combined. I'm so thankful, because at the end of last week, I was nearing the end of my rope. Here are a few highlights:
- The brighter mornings mean that I've woken on my own more easily. Sure, I'm still only getting 4 - 5 hours of sleep because I'm crazy busy, but being up before the kids makes a huge difference in how my day goes.
- Mother's Day was so much better than I had expected. We had a great brunch with Kyle's family, and the restaurant was VERY kid friendly. I don't know if I was exceptionally hungry or if the food was exceptionally good, but either way, I really enjoyed it. It was close to 80 on Sunday and I loved every second of it. I still had to do grocery shopping and meal planning for the week, but making my list out on the deck seemed less like work.
- Monday and Tuesday were very warm, too. The kind of warm that leaves you sticky and hot all day. You will NEVER hear me complain about that.
- We had a great conversation with a new realtor today that was encouraging and so, so educational. I think we'll still go ahead with listing our house. So much has to go right and happen in the right timing, but I'm less worried. Fingers crossed.
- I've been able to check some things off of my to do list. There were a few things that I forgot to put on my list, so I put them on and then checked them off right away. If they don't show up in the "completed" list, they don't count. I had to do it, right?
- Baby #4 is crazy active. She moves so much and I love just sitting and feeling and watching her movements. All three kids have felt her move now. When I was pregnant with Claire, I was constantly sad about her being my last and everything being my "last" experience. It's not like that this time. I'm very comfortable with this baby being my last baby, and I'm really enjoying feeling her move and grow.
- However, I'm not enjoying everything about this pregnancy. I don't like being pregnant, in general. I just feel achy and bloated. Nothing fits well, and I can't ever really get comfortable. It's worth every minute, though.
- I had some errands to run after picking Jack up from school yesterday, so I took all three kids out for ice cream after. It was fun just hanging out with the three of them. I can't believe they're all mine.
- We made barbecue chicken pizza on the grill last night. What's not to love about that?
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