A GOOOOOD Day

In the 10.5 years that I have lived here, I don't ever remember having such a cool summer.  We had the air conditioning turned off for an entire week in JULY. I turned it off yesterday and opened the windows and it's still off. I don't know if the official temperature has hit 100° this summer (I suspect it has on a few days).  Usually summers are so hot and muggy that I dread going outside.

God has been giving us a wonderful gift of lovely, lovely summertime weather this year. Oh, I know it could still get super hot since sometimes our "summer" lasts through October, but I am thoroughly enjoying this mild summer!

I guess Daniel and I must comment to each other about what a "nice day" it's been weather-wise, and apparently little ears pick up on that. :)  Yesterday several minutes after one of us said how nice the day was, Sylvia said "It's a GOOOOOOOD day." It was a lovely day. After lunch I strapped on Charity (I think with baby #3 I have finally gotten the hang of baby-wearing!) and we went to visit the chickens. After we gathered the eggs the girls frolicked in the yard, running up and down the hill several times.

While it was Sylvia's turn in the swing, Susannah went over to the tree, sat down and said, "I'm going to sit and talk to God for a bit." Then she told me what all she was going to talk to Him about. I don't remember what all, but it was appropriate 4-year-old conversation topics. :)

Sylvia wanted to swing for a while so I was pushing her "up to the sky" as we call it. After a bit she called out, "Mama! I see the great, big sky!!"  I turned around and indeed, it was a lovely view of the sky. 

I love where we live. I do miss the mountain views that I grew up with, but these little 2.5 acres are pretty nice. :)  It's usually quiet. Dark at night so we can see the stars. A rooster crows in the mornings, and afternoons. :) Country enough that we can walk down the road and watch the combines in the field, or hear the hay-haulers driving back and forth on the road. Some evenings if the windows are open and the air is still I can hear cows lowing somewhere nearby.

 

I am so thankful for these GOOOOD days that we are given. Not only in terms of the weather, but the time given to me with our girls.

Happy Due Date - A Time of Waiting

Anticipation has been high, for all of us.
For the past week or two it has been getting higher.
Today is the baby's due date. 40 weeks.
If I don't go into labor today, I will, once again, enter what we have come to call "the 4th trimester".

I try to keep the dishes and kitchen cleaned up.
I wash and fold all of our laundry every Monday and Tuesday (usually it's Wednesday or even Thursday till I get it ALL folded, but at least it's cleaned).
Last week I washed the kitchen floor one day, scrubbed toilets and sinks another day and scrubbed the shower/tub another day.

Soon it will be time to do the bathrooms. Again. If baby doesn't come first.
I keep giving little people their baths, which means getting in a most awkward and uncomfortable, stomach and baby -squeezing position for several minutes at a time. With the warmer days and outside play, baths are happening a little more frequently.

Contractions start and stop.
My ankles swell most days now.
I wonder if I should plan to make supper or not.
I think ahead, considering how many days the girls would be with grandparents and if that would include a Sunday if I were to go to the hospital "today". Then I wonder what the weather for that Sunday would be and if I have warm or cold -weather church clothes packed in their bags.

My phone rings. It buzzes with a text or two. People wondering if I've had the baby yet.
Friends empathize and give welcome encouragement.
I wonder if each twinge is the start of something.
I go to bed each night wondering if I'll wake up to a flood of amniotic fluid.
I wake up each morning wondering if we will have the baby "today".

This period of waiting is not easy on the mind. I am ready but it isn't time yet. My body is getting ready. I can tell it and the Dr. visits confirm it, but it's not time yet.

I have mixed emotions continually. I feel eager and excited about the baby coming. At the same time I feel anxious wondering if I will actually go all the way to 42 weeks and end up with my third induction. I get excited because I know that even if I would end up going as long as 42 weeks, it is only 14 days away! In FOURTEEN DAYS we will be holding our baby.

I listen to music at home and in the car when the time lends itself to enough "quiet" that I can spare my brain to listen. :) Music that feeds my heart and soul. I sing and listen to the music in church. Most of the time if there are no distractions so that I can really worship with the music, I end up in tears. Just... because. Because my emotions are a wreck and I am trying, trying, trying to wait patiently on God's timing. Because I want to KNOW and I can't know. Because I know He is in control and has all things planned out exactly as they should be. Because I know He is watching over me, gently giving me the strength I need each minute of each day to get through one. more. task. laden with the heavy weight of this precious life I am carrying within.

Perhaps it's just because I am at the end stages of this pregnancy, or perhaps there's an uptick in pregnancy related articles going around the internet, but there have been several articles and blog posts that have been an encouragement to me in various ways. I would like to share the links here, for you to be encouraged from if you're in a similar situation, and for me to be able to find again in the future.

This blog post quite possibly encouraged me the most. It put a name to the "place" I am in right now.
"The Last Days of Pregnancy: A Place of In-Between"

Reading this post about Prodromal Labor - start and stop, start and stop... helped put into perspective exactly what is going on when I spend 30 minutes having cramping or contractions that don't result in active labor. (This is the first pregnancy I've experienced anything other than a very few, painless, Braxton-Hicks contractions so this Prodromal Labor is quite new to me.)

Not related to before the birth or labor and delivery, but this post provides an excellent list of ways new (and by "new" it means had a new baby, not just first-time moms!) moms can be ministered to. I have been on both the giving and receiving end and both are a real blessing! I would add that especially after the first week of post partum, I would have welcomed a sit and chat (or come and help) visit from people most of the time. There were times when someone dropping off a meal and leaving immediately was good, other times I would enjoy some adult company and another set of hands to help with potty trips, diaper changes, reading books and another set of ears to listen to the older children.  And one thing I would add to the list as something that could really be helpful to a mom would be to offer to give her older children baths. Not that I want just anyone giving my girls baths, but most people that would come to visit I would gladly let them take care of that exhausting and physically challenging for new mommies task!

On the recovery side of things, this post was good to read knowing that I have never been "back to normal" anytime near 6 weeks post-delivery! :-)

*I do want to add that aside from the linked to articles or blog posts, I am not familiar in any way with the sites of these posts. I also did not re-read over each one with a fine-tooth comb just prior to sharing these links so I may have forgotten if there was any content I specifically did not agree with.

In the meantime, this time of in-between, waiting, continues. I hope to be sharing our 3rd child's birth-day celebration with you soon!!

Saturday Surprise

Yes, Baby #3 is on his or her way. :)  This is the picture we sent to our families back in July. (It was right at bedtime when I got this idea so we were all a little worn-out from our day!)

To answer everyone's first question - or at least I am sure I hear them asking it in their heads even if they don't verbalize it - having all our babies born in March (Lord willing) has been God's doing. :) If this baby does come in March (likely late March), we will have 4 birthdays and our anniversary in March!

I had several weeks of almost-all-day queasiness and yuck. Faithfully eating something every 1 1/2 to 2 hours helped, but it was still no picnic. If I didn't HAVE to be moving, I was parked on the couch holding still.

Thankfully the sickness has passed and I am feeling good again. We are planning to wait until the baby is born to find out if the Lord is giving us a son our daughter. Susannah says she wants a brother and I ask if she will still love the baby if God gives her another baby sister. Her answer is always "yes". :)

The Week Nobody Wanted

I have had lots of blog posts floating around in my head. Some about the inching forward progress
we're Daniel's making on the addition.  About getting the house all ready for out-of-state friends to visit for a week and then having to cancel at the last minute, but we have an official guest room now, yay! Maybe about how many times I sit in our living room and feel immeasurably blessed by God's goodness to us. This past week is very blog-post-worthy because 20 years from now, I don't know if I will believe it if I don't write it down!

Saturday night I stayed up very late sewing a pair of white bloomers for Susannah to wear under her tad-too-short dress on Sunday.  The bloomers turned out fantastic and she was thrilled; I was tired and took a nap Sunday. :)  Sunday evening we did not have a service, which put me in the mood to do something fun... like make cookies.  As I was making them, I began to feel a sore throat coming on. The more dough I sampled the worse it got but I already had the dough mixed up and wasn't turning back now.  I took a big ol' dose of immune booster and Daniel and I caught up on NCIS before going to bed.

Monday morning I dragged out of bed feeling completely miserable. I ended up not making Daniel breakfast OR lunch, and instead crashed on the couch until Susannah woke up and found me.  My. head. felt. awful. My sinuses hurt and I literally could not go 30 seconds without blowing my nose.  And I was SO cold. And then hot, and then cold again.  I took my temperature but it was on the low side (maybe I took it during a "chill" and not a heat-flash?).  I could not get warm and wore a heavy jacket all day.  I did something I hadn't done in a long, long time, and took a decongestant.  I was so very miserable I sent Daniel a text asking him if he could at all work a short day and come home early (something I've never done before) because child-care was about more than I could handle.  He wasn't able to change his schedule at all, but he did get home mid-afternoon since his work is slow right now.  I was crashed in bed taking a nap.  After my nap I still felt horrendous and took another decongestant. At bedtime I felt a tiny smidge better but still very awful and still cold.  As soon as the girls were in bed I filled the bathtub with hot water and soaked and soaked.  I could feel that the water was hot, but I was still cold and never did get warm.  I took an Advil Cold & Sinus right before going to bed and slept fitfully, waking up often either sweating or chilled.  Daniel slept in the guest room trying to avoid bad germs, so I did not wake up Tuesday morning until I heard him leaving.

Soon after he left as I was just lying there noticing that I was neither hot nor chilled, I felt what seemed like my heart racing in my chest.  It was pounding to beat the band and I laid there wondering if I felt that stressed over Daniel leaving, not knowing if I was going to feel good or bad that day, that it set my heart to pounding.  After a few minutes it calmed down and seemed to return to normal and I just laid there dozing.  Susannah came upstairs about 7:45 and crawled in bed with me.  We whisper talked for a few minutes before she fell asleep - very unusual for her but I was fine with more time to just lie there.

8:30am she woke up, sat up and said her stomach hurt. Then she started heaving and threw up on our bed. There is no functioning bathroom upstairs yet, and certainly no buckets or trashcans on standby, so I helped her hit the sheets instead of the bedspread and that was about all I could do. Once she finished I got her downstairs and found a bucket for her and realized the ache in my own stomach was not hunger. I needed to dash to the bathroom or I was going to be hurling on the floor.  I gave the throne everything my stomach had and then some.  I got myself taken care of and Susannah into clean clothes.  Then both of us parked on the couch with buckets and blankets as I was still cold and Susannah was having hot and cold flashes herself. 

 Susannah calls this picture "Two sick girls".

Sylvia woke up and I had to drag around caring for her even though my stomach was still churning.  Again I sent Daniel a text telling him what was going on and to see if he could come home early.  Sylvia wanted to climb and play and party, I wanted to lean over and puke.  I ended up sitting on the couch doling out Ritz crackers to her one at a time because it kept her happy and I could stay still.  At some point in the morning Susannah and I each threw up another time, and we ate mouse-sized bites of crackers, small amounts of applesauce with kefir, and itty bitty sips of water.  Susannah slept and Sylvia ended up taking an out-of-norm morning nap.  Then I had to get Sylvia lunch, because she was not sick and needed food. 

I walked to the kitchen to get her lunch and when I got to the stove my world closed in and got dark.  I caught myself on the stove and then sat down on the floor as my heart revved up again.  This time I could see that my body was rocking with each rapid beat of my heart.  My already nauseated stomach did not feel good, either, as it felt like my heart was beating in my stomach and throat.  After several minutes it seemed fairly normal again and I carefully got Sylvia something to eat.  After lunch it happened again.  This time I decided to consult Dr. Internet and concluded that I was having heart palpitations resulting from dehydration.  The morning heart-race before I'd even gotten out of bed was a bit puzzling, but I knew I was not drinking "enough" since my stomach was sick and chalked it all up to that.  I very carefully started pushing more fluids and by mid-afternoon was feeling hungry and wanting food to eat.  Susannah had one more vomiting episode mid-afternoon, and by bedtime she had eaten a piece of toast and a banana.

Wednesday morning I woke up feeling exhausted and tired, but fine stomach-wise.  My head cold was now making it's way to my throat and I was croaking instead of speaking.  My right ear also had a dull ache all morning that seemed to increase as the day went on.  Not wanting to overload my stomach after a day of nausea, I went easy on food and thought I was drinking enough water.  After an afternoon nap for myself, my ear was still bothering me so I took a Tylenol and was debating which home-remedy to try as I didn't want an ear infection.  We had supper and then it was bath-time. I was in the living room and took Sylvia from Daniel since we decided I would do her bath first.  As I walked toward the dining room carrying Sylvia, my world closed in again and my heart took off racing.  Mid-stride I immediately sat down on the floor to keep from falling over and Daniel wondered what the problem was.  I told him that this was the same thing that had happened 3 times on Tuesday.  This time it took several minutes before I felt like I could get up, but it was still not back to normal.  I figured it would calm down with time and with bedtime nearing I needed to get baths done and the girls in bed.  As I leaned over the bathtub washing the girls I could feel that my heart was still racing some, but thought that the pressure on my rib-cage from leaning into the tub was just making me very aware of it.

We got both girls tucked away into bed and I decided to email my sister, Sally, who was a nurse for a few years.  As I sat at the computer typing to her, I started having more moments of feeling faint but never completely passing out. After talking to Sally I called a friend who is a doctor and she said I needed to see a doctor that night yet. The urgent care clinics were closing right then, so our option was the ER.  It was about 10pm.  I called Daniel's parents and made arrangements to drop the girls off to spend the night.  I took off my rings (figured I'd rather leave them home instead of possibly having to remove them at the hospital, since after talking to Sally I wasn't sure what all I might end up having done depending on the problem), threw a pair of clean undercloths, the phone charger and every single medication, herbal remedy, vitamin, etc. that I had taken since Monday morning into a bag and we were off.

My heart was still racing and just sitting in the car I was near fainting several times.  After dropping off the girls, it got bad enough that I threw up twice (once out the door at a stop-sign, once into an empty container).  After throwing up the 2nd time, I noticed my heart was no longer noticeably racing.  I did not having any more near faints the rest of the ride.

I should note here that I had not showered or even brushed my hair since my soak in the tub Monday night.  Stomach sick on Tuesday and completely exhausted on Wednesday made no shower an easy thing. I looked a fright.

We walked into the ER about 10:45 and they took me for an EKG immediately.  My heart rate was fast, but not terribly so.  They got me into a room in under 10 minutes (even though they were packed to the gills) and a very, very nice lady doctor came in to check me out. After lots of questions, checking my heart-rate and blood pressure different ways and some blood tests, she determined that I was dehydrated and hooked me up to an IV.  As we don't have traditional insurance, I was lamenting this very expensive "drink of water" I was receiving through a needle in my arm.  However, the one thing that still did not stack up was the heart-racing I had Tuesday morning before I was stomach sick, and before I would've thought myself to be dehydrated.

The IV dripped and dripped, and after a bit they did another blood pressure and heart rate check.  Things were returning to normal, indicating that the IV was doing the trick.  But then the IV slowed down to very, very, very slow.  After a while, Daniel went and asked the nurse if this was right.  She came in and checked, everything was "wide open" for it to run in.  Then the doctor came to check and noticed it was slow.  She put the bag up higher and that helped some, but it still took a very long time for it to finish.  FINALLY it was finished. By this time it was around 4:00 am and I had not slept and Daniel had only dozed sitting in a chair.  The doctor came in and checked my heart rate and blood pressure lying down, then sitting up, then standing up.  She needed me to stand for 3 minutes to get an accurate reading. She listened to my heart and lungs, felt my pulse and said "I hate to say it, but I think you need another IV, your heart rate is still a little high."  As soon as she said that, BAM, my world closed in and my heart was pounding out of my chest again.  I caught myself on the bed and she helped me into the bed before calling for the nurse and an EKG.  They slapped the wires on me in seconds, and had a print-out right away.  While I don't know how to read an EKG, I could see that it was NOT anything normal looking and nothing even remotely close to what it looked like when I first got to the ER.

After a few more pages of EKG, the doctor had me try bearing down as hard as I could, 3 times.  Sometimes, for the right situations, that will stop the racing.  It did not.  The nurse was all prepped with a vial of medicine (I wish I knew what it was, I call it "The Mack Truck Medicine") and the doctor gave her the go-ahead to administer it.  They both warned me: "This will make you feel like you've been hit by a truck, most people get scared by it so just be warned."

She put the medicine in my IV and I could feel it burning through my arms and down my legs. Then it happened. It felt like they pulled a cord and a Mack truck fell through the ceiling onto my entire body except for my head.  I could not breath. I could not talk. I could not anything. Time stood still. I was watching the doctor's face, knowing that if I was dying, she would not look as calm as she did (I was waiting for things to go into a panic, I wasn't sure that I wasn't dying!).  Instead she said "Breathe! Take a deep breath. Breathe!" I tried. Oh, I tried and tried and tried. In an out-of-body experience, I could see my chest rising up as I tried to fill my lungs with air but it wasn't working. Finally I was able to get some air and I started crying. I was telling myself "God is with me. God is with me. God is with me." My chest hurt so badly. I couldn't get enough air. She continued to instruct me to breathe, I told her I couldn't (obviously I could since I was talking!). She printed off another 2 pages of EKG and that's when the flurry began. 2 more nurses poured into the room and they wheeled me across into a bigger room with brighter lights and lots of cabinets.

They hooked up a dose of Amiodarone (100mls in 10 minutes, if I remember correctly) and that started infusing and my heart rate slowly started coming down.  They hooked me up to oxygen through a nasal cannula, which felt wonderful after not being able to breathe minutes earlier.  As I have pieced together, the Mack Truck Medicine was supposed to have stopped my heart from racing, but it did not. I am not sure if my heart just didn't respond to the medication, or the medication made it worse.  Later in the day I asked my nurse about my heart-rate. He said he had not seen the EKG, but had heard that it had been over 200.

At this point both the doctor and I commented how glad we were that it happened while she was standing right there and was able to fully understand what I had been talking about and the reason I went to the ER in the first place.  Obviously it was not "just" dehydration. This leads back to my earlier comments about the IV dripping so slowly.  I don't know much about IVs, but after the fact I was so glad that it took so long to infuse.  If it had finished sooner, we may well have been sent home before the 4:00 heart racing.

Over the next hour, the nurses and doctor were in and out of the room.  Dr. Lady consulted with a cardiologist and it was decided that I was staying for further testing once daytime came.  After everything was settled down, they turned off the lights, closed the door to the room and Daniel was able to sleep for about 1 1/2 hours on the floor while I dozed fitfully on the uncomfortable bed. With all the monitors hooked to me and the IV in my elbow (NOT a good place for an IV!) and no pillow it was very hard to be comfortable.

Finally around 7:30 or 8:00 I asked about breakfast - I was starving hungry and I needed to know if I was going to get breakfast or if I should have Daniel go find something for me. They finally brought me a cold plate of the tiniest breakfast I thought I'd ever seen. I inhaled it in all it's heart-healthy nastiness and by that time they had found a room for me on a floor.  The only room available was in the CMICU (Cardiac Medical ICU). I didn't need the ICU part, but I did need the Cardiac part.

By this time Daniel was so lack-of-sleep drunk he could not hold a decent conversation as he tried to talk to his mom (who was keeping the girls) or give my mom directions to the hospital to pick up the car-seats (so she could get the girls and take them to our house). Then they wheeled me away and as we got to the CMICU, they told Daniel "wait here, we'll come get you once she's settled in". After asking when Daniel could come to my room, I was finally told that he would be allowed in once visiting hours started an hour from then. I was ready to hit the roof at that point, and they finally realized he had been left waiting outside the CMICU and eventually let him in early (I'm not sure where they thought he was, but anyway!).

The cardiologist came (before Daniel was allowed in) and asked me a few generic questions for a few minutes. From that time on, all communication was with my Guy Nurse. We found out that Daniel was not allowed to stay during non-visiting hours. I cried after Guy Nurse left after learning that. I was over 24 hours with no sleep to speak of, no idea what was wrong with me or my heart, no idea what any plan or schedule was, and was not allowed to have my husband with me.  It especially irked me that this rule was being enforced on a patient who really didn't even belong in the ICU and was just there because it was the closest open bed to where I should be.  I eventually realized that Daniel would be better off going home and taking a nap in bed, but that did not make me any happier about him not being able to stay if I wanted him to.

At noon they did an ultrasound of my heart, and it was close to 1pm before I finally asked about lunch and was brought a cold, nasty, awful, awful lunch.  I had previously only been privileged to post-partum meals at the hospital which really aren't that bad.  This food, it was all I could do to choke it down not to mention all the unhealthy ingredients I read on the labels.  Daniel left to go home and I had a pity-party for a while. 

Then, hooray-hooray! A familiar face poked into the room.  Our pastor had come to visit.  Actually, he is our former pastor and it had been several weeks since I'd seen him. His daughter is one of my best friends and she sent him. :)  It was just what I needed, too.  After visiting, he read and talked through Psalm 40 and then he prayed. I was one big snotty, tear-streaked mess, I tell ya.  Hearing the Word and being prayed over was a soothing balm to my heart and soul on that day in the middle of what was seeming to be a horrible, horrible week that wasn't getting any better.

After having received some spiritual food I was able to sleep for about 2 hours (the best part by now was the very comfortable air-mattress bed!).  Late afternoon Guy Nurse started giving me meds as if I were going to be there a while (MRSA swabs in the nose, a shot of blood thinner to reduce risk of clotting while not moving around and an ant-acid to prevent stomach ulcers from stress. Looking back, I would have asked a bunch of questions and declined at least the last two until there was better answers for how long I was going to be there!). He was saying I might be in there for up to 2 days.

Long story short, about 5 o'clock, after consulting with the cardiologist on the phone, I was cleared to go home that evening.  A ton of paperwork had to be done and I endured another terrible supper.  Finally they told me I could get dressed, and eventually they came in and unhooked my IV so I could get dressed (in their defense, the CMICU seemed to be jam-packed and the nurses were very busy).

With no real answer as to what had happened or why, but told that my heart looked healthy and was functioning well, I was sent home with instructions to never take any decongestants again and a prescription for a beta-blocker (which keeps your heart-rate down).  We learned that decongestants contain the ingredient used to make Crystal Meth, a "speeder" drug, which when taken as a medication can have a side effect of making your heart race.  I have taken decongestants many times before with no side effects, so I don't know if this incident was a sudden reaction, or if there was something else going on.  I have an appointment with the cardiologist in a few weeks and hope to find out more then.

My mom was here for 2 days; the day I spent in the hospital and the day after.  I was so worn out from lack of sleep AND from my heart running it's own marathon without me, I knew that a well-functioning adult in the house would be a good thing.  On the way home from the hospital, Daniel told me that he was running a fever and had caught the head-cold I'd had on Monday. By that time, I wasn't going to be surprised if a tree fell on our house, or some other similar bizarre ending to our week.  Thankfully nothing else happened and we just worked at recovering from it all.  I was still very tired on Sunday, but everything this week has been normal aside from residual nose-blowing and coughing from the colds.  I have been pleased to not have experienced the common side-effect from the beta-blocker, dizziness upon sitting or standing. I wasn't sure how I was going to parent if I was going to have to get out of bed slowly or stand slowly; that just doesn't go with active 3 and 1 year olds very well!

And that's the story of the week nobody wanted.  I would not want to wish it on anyone and I never want to relive anything like that again.  I realize things could've been much worse, but 3 different, miserable sicknesses back-to-back was enough to last me for a very long time.

The Noisiest 5 Minutes

...begin the moment I walk into the bathroom and close the door.  Yes, I have started requiring privacy for my bathroom trips.  Most of the time.  I have even started locking the door because Susannah would stand on the other side, and no matter HOW many times I would repeat "leave the door closed" she would inch it open.  I would reach over and close it.  She would inch it open.  I would reach over and push it shut.  I mean, you can't DO anything in peace while all that's going on.

This morning was no exception.  I walk in, shut and lock the door, and sit down to a few moments of all-by-myself-time, which is treasured even if it is while going to the bathroom.  No sooner had I sat down when this loud clang, bang, wang, clatter, clang!! starts up RIGHT outside the door.  Susannah had come to serenade me with a metal baking sheet, banging it on the floor. Niiiiiice.

Then I hear Sylvia cruise up, and stuff being dug out of the hall closet (which does not have a door). 

I am still occupied and unable to do more than attempt verbal direction, which is obviously falling on deaf ears.  THEN I hear light-bulbs clunking on the floor!  Great.  Somebody has dug out the box of spare lightbulbs. How soon will it be till Sylvia decides to chew on one, or bang one on the floor and it shatters into shards?

I hear plastic bags rattling as if Sylvia is probably climbing up into the closet, or dragging stuff out as fast as her rotor-tiller hands can dig.

More verbal instruction falls on deaf ears.

A line from "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves" (with Kevin Costner) comes to mind:
"I can't DO this with all that RACKET!!" 

But, being a mom requires the ability to do amazing things, including taking care of business in the midst of a full-blown circus.

I finished what I needed to do, opened the door and restored order.  They moved away from the bathroom doorway and closet and resumed playing elsewhere, because, of course, I was not in the bathroom hoping to snag a brief moment of sanity anymore.

I tell myself they'll only be this little once. :)

An Unexpected Milestone - Stitches

The day started out as a "normal" Saturday does: Daniel and Susannah had their special Daddy/Daughter cheerio breakfast together while watching This Old House on TV.  I dressed myself and the girls in "we aren't going ANYwhere" clothes... you know the kind.  Susannah, in particular, was dressed in a Christmas sweatshirt and matching candy-cane pants.  It turned out to be a good thing she was wearing a red shirt.

A friend came over to help Daniel install the chimney for the addition, so Daniel and Shawn were outside setting up ladders and whatnot.  I was inside not being too picky about our morning, just getting things done as they happened.  I was planning to clean up the dishes and fold the mountain of laundry during naps.

Sylvia was getting fussy, so I picked her up to put her down for her morning nap in our room since the guys were going to be banging around on the roof right over her own room.  As I walked into the dining room from the [new] living room, I heard Susannah coming behind me and then I heard a very loud THUD.


I whipped around to see her getting up off the floor at the bottom of the steps.  I also immediately saw a gash in her forehead where she had hit the outside corner of the wall.  A million things started zooming through my mind all at once.  In lightening speed, I had Sylvia back into her playpen (a contained, safe area), yanked open the front door and yelled for Daniel to come inside "RIGHT NOW!!", and scooped Susannah - who was now starting to cry - up and ran into the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel.



I knew that being a head wound it was going to be bleeding like crazy, and it was.  As I wiped her head, face and hands and tried to keep pressure on the 3/4" - 1" cut, Daniel dug in the freezer for an ice pack.  While all that was going on, I was thinking both in my head and out loud.  Sylvia desperately needed a nap.  Daniel and Shawn need to work on the chimney outside.  The pediatrician closes at noon on Saturdays.  It's 10:30.  I wonder if they even do stitches there?  If Sylvia stays here, Daniel won't be able to work on the house as much.  We'll probably be gone for a while, it could be a long time.  Daniel's mom is off work today.  I would need to pack a bag of books, blankie and bear for Susannah... I would need to pack diapers, liquid and solid lunch for Sylvia...
I rattled off to Daniel, asking telling him to call his mom and see if Sylvia could go there.  Then I got on my phone to call the ped's office to ask if they do stitches.  Lo and behold they have what felt like 10 minutes of recorded information before it got around to saying that even though they are open on Saturday's, the answering service still takes all Saturday calls.  I hung up.  Daniel said his mom was coming to get Sylvia.


I attempted to put a butterfly bandaid on Susannah's head, just to hold it somewhat closed temporarily, but it kept bleeding and between the bleeding, the slight swelling and Susannah not really wanting me messing with the cut, it didn't work so well.  So I put her on the couch with instructions to hold a paper towel on her head. She was not crying by this time and was relatively ok mentally.

I tore around grabbing stuff for both Sylvia and Susannah.  I filled a bag with books to read in case we had to wait very long.  By the time I was unstrapping Sylvia's carseat, Daniel's mom pulled in.  Still trying to beat the clock - remember, the pediatrician closed at noon, it was nearing 11:00 and it takes about 30 min. to get there - I hurriedly strapped Susannah in her seat and lit off, leaving Daniel to transfer Sylvia and her stuff to his mom.

We got to the Dr's office right about 11:30, and the waiting room was packed.  *inward groan*  The first thing I did was ask if they did stitches.  Nope.  I asked where they recommended we go (not having actual health insurance I wanted to avoid the emergency room if we could), and they recommended a pediatric after-hours urgent care center.


We went there (just a few minutes away) and found that we had about a half-hour wait until they opened at noon.  BUT we were the first car in the parking lot! Yay!  I pulled out the bag of books and we started reading.  Closer to noon, other cars started pulling in.  I wondered how much of a mad-dash for the door it was going to be.  As it was quite chilly outside and neither of us had our coats on, I decided to not go stand in line at the door as much as I wanted to retain our place at the front of the line.


About 5 minutes to noon, they came and opened the door.  Sure enough, another set of people literally jogged to the door to get there first (Man, if that was me, I would've felt so guilty!  They had parked 2 spaces down from us and it was obvious that we were there first! I hope they had an even more urgent need.).  As I was helping Susannah out of the car, not wanting to bump her head, another lady and child were walking to the door but kindly said "you can go in front of us when you get inside".  I really appreciated their kindness to us, even if we were dressed in our frumpy, stay-at-home clothes!


Thankfully we were then the 2nd people to sign in, and we really did not wait too long until we were called back.  The nurse took Susannah's vital signs and then looked at the cut.  Then we waited for the doctor, who turned out to be a very nice, younger, lady Nurse Practitioner.  She looked the cut and agreed that stitches would be the best thing.  She applied some topical anesthetic gel that had to work for 20 minutes before they could do the stitches.  She brought Susannah a bag of Cheezits to munch on and we watched a show about cats on Animal Planet on the in-room TV.  Susannah really liked the Cheezits and I was grateful for the courtesy (which I'm sure we pay for) as it was lunch-time and we were both hungry.

When 20 minutes were up, the N.P. returned along with a large, African-American male nurse (I assume he was a nurse, it crossed my mind that he might just be the "bouncer", haha!).  The male nurse gently swaddled Susannah and laid her down while the N.P. got everything ready.  Susannah was all fine so far... as soon as she was on her back on the table, she said "Susannah has pretty shoes!"  That got laughs from all of us.

But then the un-fun part started. :(  She received some injections of anesthesia, and the syringe was not concealable.  Susannah started crying and crying, asking for her blankie and Bearie, which were over on a chair and she wouldn't have been able to hold anyway.  I'm sure some of her fright was a result of having intently watched Sylvia get "poked" for her vaccines a month ago, which resulted in Sylvia crying for a bit.  Then came the stitches, and she cried even more.  She did not say anything about it hurting, just expressing that she did not want touched or any more of anything.  The male nurse did a great job of holding her head still without being aggressive, and both he and the N.P. worked hard to comfort Susannah in the situation.  I was right there with her, touching her face and talking to her as well.  When the 2nd stitch was finished she said "All done!" and I was sad to tell her that there was one more.

As soon as the 3rd and final stitch was finished, they put on some gel and one of those cool, sparkly band-aids and unswaddled her.  I immediately hugged her and got her her blankie and Bearie, which she hugged tight.  By the time they were done cleaning up the room, she was fine and even obeyed my direction to tell them "thank you".

By this time it was 1:30 and my stomach was having conversations with my backbone.  Knowing that there was not really any big rush to get home, I wanted to do something positive to end the trip to town.  I took Susannah to lunch at Arby's and we finished that off by sharing an ice cream cone.  On the way home she talked about and liked looking at her sparkly band-aid in the mirror. :)

When we got home, I took a few pictures and them promptly deposited her in her bed for a much needed nap.

Then I sat down on the couch and my adrenaline crashed.  I had a headache and felt like I could sleep for 100 years.  I didn't have any specific surges of emotions through the ordeal, but it was exhausting and trying.  Some have asked if it was hard for me to see her getting stitches.  I didn't really think about it from that standpoint.  Yes, now that I think about it, sure, it's not something I wanted to see or have happen.  But it did happen and there was no way I wasn't going to be right there with her through it.  Blood does not bother me, so I wasn't queasy.  I was pretty focused on helping her get through the situation that I didn't think once about my feelings.

Yesterday, though, when she went without a band-aid for the first time, it did bother me and still does.  I just isn't right to see stitches in the head of my girl.  Cuts, bruises, scrapes... those are "natural".  Stitches are not natural.  Last night when I went to check on her before going to bed myself I just knelt beside her bed for a long time, looking at her.  I was reminded again last night while watching her sleep how much she really does not belong to me, but to the Father.  How I must not hold too tightly to my children because they are His, not mine.  How precious their lives are.  How much of a blessing and privilege it is to have been given to gift of being their mama, and yet they are not mine to keep forever and ever.  How thankful I am that God spared her of worse injury, and that I still have her to "keep" for a while.

A Blowout, A Bee and a Barf Bucket

 What a title, but this last week included ALL THREE of those things.  I have pictures to prove it.  I think it was about Wednesday that I thought "I sure would like to start this week over... NO! I don't want to do this week over, I just want to get it done!"

Sunday morning Daniel needed to leave extra early and for another reason we were taking both his truck and the car to church, so that meant that I could come later with the girls.  Typically this would be a good thing. :-)  After Daniel got up to get ready, I fell back asleep quite soundly and did not get up as soon as I would have liked, but it was still going to work out mostly ok and we weren't going to be too terribly late for Sunday School.  I had Susannah fed, dressed and ready, myself dressed and ready and most of the stuff we needed to take (diaper bag, etc.) gathered and ready.  After I fed Sylvia her breakfast earlier (which was first thing for me), I had put her back in her bed to play in a contained area while I did other stuff.  No big deal.  I heard her talking and chattering and sounding happy most of the time. 

However, when I went in to put her dress on her (I'd already changed her diaper), this is what greeted my eyes and nose!!

Not only had she had a dirty diaper... but she'd had a major blowout and rolled and wiggled around in the mess.  It doesn't show up well in the picture, but her entire left leg was COVERED with yellow baby poop.  It was nasty.  She was also flailing her arms around and sucking on her fingers... I had to not even think about the fact that she had probably ingested some already digested food.  *gross* 

I quickly got on the phone to Daniel to let him know that we were not even going to make it to Sunday School, hopefully we would get there in time for church.  Then I swooped Sylvia up and gave her a full-blown bath.  We did make it to church right in time for the service.  :-)  Whew!  I was looking forward to having a normal week ahead.

And there were some normal things, like me catching Sylvia sucking on her toes one night.  :-)

But lo and behold, the blowout was just the beginning.  Tuesday evening I decided that Susannah would enjoy seeing some of the Olympics, so we settled onto the couch to wait the last few minutes before they came on at 8:00. 

We're sitting there and as nonchalantly as ever, she says "Bud ear?"
What on earth, did she just say "bug ear?!" Thinking that a bug (gnat, whatever) was flying around her head, I asked "Do you have a bug in your ear?"
Putting her finger up to her ear, very calmly "Yeah"
Quick as a wink, I turned her head so I could see the ear she was talking about and my heart skipped several beats.  I had to keep myself from screaming or otherwise freaking out.  Down in her ear with only about 1/4 - 1/3 of him sticking out was a yellow-jacket.

I am not kidding.  I had to shove my own fear of being stung way, way, WAY down beneath my Mom-Cape and while trying to keep Susannah from poking in her ear any more with her own finger, I gingerly reached in and was able to grab the bee's rear-end and pull him out.  I immediately dropped him, not wanting to hold him any split second longer than needed because I did not want to get stung.  I looked at Susannah's ear closely to make sure that she had not been stung (which she had not), and then looked at the bee to see if it was dead or alive.  It was alive, but barely. 

I only have a guess as to how the bee may have gotten into her ear: we were outside swinging earlier in the evening and my guess is that the bee was flying along and collided with her ear in just the right way that it (a) knocked him out and (b) shoved him down into her ear.  I do not have to guess how she did not get stung (I still shudder when I think about it!), and that is the grace of God.  No other explanation is possible. 

Sooo... we recovered from the bee incident and my heart eventually resumed beating normally again.  (By the way, Susannah had and has no idea that bees can sting, so to her having a bee in her ear was as innocent as having a lady-bug crawl on her finger.)

And then...  Thursday morning I went to wake Susannah up.  I opened her bedroom door and she is lying on her bed awake.  She sits up and says something about "spit out on pillow".  I look, and at some point in the night she had gotten sick and thrown up on her pillow.  She never cried or anything, and obviously went back to sleep.  Her pajama shirt was covered in dried vomit and she even had some in her hair.  Oh boy, oh boy. 

We went right away to the bathtub and I gave her a bath.  Then she had a little bit of toast and applesauce for breakfast, which did not stay down for long.  She spent the rest of the morning on the couch watching Baby Einstein movies.

At lunch I was able to coax a few crackers into her, and they did not stay down either.  Early afternoon she was able to keep down a cracker and some water.  After her nap (which I was nervous about, but she needed a nap) she still wasn't 100%.  By bedtime, though, she was feeling and acting much better and was able to eat a gentle meal before going to bed.  The next morning she was chipper and fine!

Wanting to end the week on a good note, Friday night Sylvia had her first meal of solid food (rice cereal). This is a picture of her first taste, which she was pretty excited about!

There were no out and out cues or indicators that she was ready for "real" food, but she had started eye-ing our food quite seriously and both Daniel and I felt like she was ready (5 mo. and 4 days old).  Boy oh boy was she ready!  The first meal she loved.  Saturday night's meal was so-so (but she was also quite tired).  Sunday and Monday nights' meals she was very eager and excited about.  Last night I couldn't get the food in her fast enough!

Now we are into a new week and so far it is going ... as normally as normal gets, I guess. :-)

My Full Hands

Earlier this week we had a piece of mail that needed to be mailed for next day delivery.  Of course you can't just walk to the mailbox, put your letter in, put the flag up and leave a sticky-note for the mail-lady to send it "next day".  :-)  We had to take a trip to the post office.

Running errands by myself with both girls is usually not a big deal.  It can be, but I try my best to keep it from being that (mostly by keeping errands to a bare minimum!).  When we do have to run errands, we just make the best of it and it is what it is.  It takes a little longer, a little more patience, a watchful eye and the art of juggling.

When it is just the girls and I, whenever we are walking anywhere (most of the time) I am carrying Sylvia in her car-seat and I have Susannah hold on to the other side of the car-seat handle (because my other arm/hand is usually full of diaper bag, wallet, etc.).  Then we slowly make our way to wherever we're going.  On this day, that mean into and back out of the Post Office.

We had a good time in the post office, Susannah was well behaved and for the most part kept both hands on Sylvia's seat (what she is to do when I have to use both hands to do something).  I did have to tell her to not lie on the floor; I'm not sure where that idea came from!!

On the way out of the Post Office, we had to cross the parking lot to get to our car.  Another car was pulling into the parking lot and the gentleman stopped so that we could cross in front of him (a kindness I really appreciate when it is obvious to the person that we aren't going to just dash across really quick!).  After we were across, he pulled into a spot close to our car as I was getting Susannah into her seat and buckled up.  I nodded to him in thanks for his courteousness, and he commented in return "You have your hands full, don't you?"

Even though he did not say it rudely, it took me by surprise a bit.  I stuttered back something like "Yes, but it's good!"  I really don't think he meant any ill meaning at all, just commenting that I had my hands full, and he was correct - I did have my hands full!!

However, a split second after I replied, I wanted to say "Just wait till you see me in a couple more years when hopefully I'll have TWICE this many kids!!"  :-)  I didn't say that, though.  The rest of the way home I mulled over the situation and thought of different replies I could give in the future when similar situations arise. 

I think one reason the comment caught me off guard a bit is that with 2 children, I don't expect to get comments like that.  Those are the kind of comments that I think larger families would get.  I suppose that since I would like to keep adding to our family I should probably get used to the idea of strangers commenting on how full my hands are.

Right now, with "just" two, yes, my hands ARE full and I love it!

~We don't have specific plans for how many children we will have.  Right now we do want to have more, but we don't know what "more" means.  :-)

Sylvia - 3 Months

 Happy 3 Month Birthday to my sweet Sylvia!!

She is getting bigger and smile-ier every day, I think.

She is sleeping through the night very well, now.  She usually wakes up sometime between 7:30 and 8:00am.  Her last feeding for the day is usually between 9:30 and 10:30, depending on how the day has gone.  Last week she was pretty predictable and eating 5 meals a day, the first 3 every 4 hours, and the last 2 were closer together.  This week she seems to be going through a growth spurt.  Yesterday she ate every 3 hours on the dot, almost!

She has discovered her hands and is starting to grab at toys in her lap.  If she can get everything coordinated enough, she will stuff a burp rag or toy in her mouth to chew on it.

A few weeks ago she discovered her love for her right thumb.  Not her left thumb, mind you, but her right.  She has never had much of a desire for her paci, and I think that is waning even more.  Now that she has found her thumb, she is a little bit picky about it when she needs to go to sleep.  She sleeps on her tummy (shh!) and often will turn her head to the left and try to stuff her left fist into her mouth.  This frustrates her and she will fuss and fuss and fuss, chewing on her left fist.  Most of the time we can go in, turn her head to the right, help her get her right thumb, and she calms right down and drifts off to sleep happily. :-)  Other times she just wants to be vocal for a bit before she's ready to be quiet and go to sleep.

She is in size 2 of disposable diapers, but wears size Small of FuzziBunz diapers most of the time.  She has grown out of almost all of her 0-3 month clothes.  It is bittersweet, seeing her wearing the bigger clothes and realizing that she is not a "little" baby anymore.  But it is a joy and delight to see her growing and discovering, too. :-)

She is overall a very happy and content baby.  About the only time she is fussy is if she has a dirty diaper or is tired.  Or hungry, of course!!  She does get bored sometimes now that her wake-times are a little longer (1.5 - 2 hrs.), so she has some swing-time, some tummy-time and some back-time.  I also try to get her outside for a bit now and then, usually to "help" me hang out the laundry.  :-)

She has a very expressive face and it is fun to talk to her and watch her facial expressions as she "talks", too.

I love my little girlie, and she is a delight and joy to my heart!!!

The 12 Days of...

... work. Definitely not the 12 Days of Christmas!  This 12 day stretch started last Monday and will end today.  We are SO ready!!  Daniel was on call for Memorial Day weekend, and it sure was a doozy!  We have learned the hard way that for the holiday weekends he is on call, the best laid plans generally go awry so it's even better to just not have any plans.

Since the weather was so warm and very humid, I was guessing that he would be very busy so I didn't even get my hopes up that he would be home Saturday, Sunday or Monday.  Saturday morning I didn't consider it a Saturday.  I did the same for Sunday and Monday.  They were just "another day" that Daddy had to go to work.

Monday morning, Memorial Day, before Daniel's pager went off.

(He was out until after midnight on a call, which is why everyone else

was up and dressed and he was sleeping in. :-) ) 

I am thankful that both girls have been very good for this 12 day stretch, which has made it much easier for me to "single parent" so much.  Daniel has been working long days even this week when he's not on call anymore, and sometimes I can start to feel frazzled, but not this time! (Lonely for Daniel, yes, but not "ready-to-sit-down-and-cry" frazzled.)  Maybe I am just getting better at "rolling with it". Probably more like God is just giving me more grace for every moment (2 Cor. 9:8 - my kitchen cupboard verse)!!

Saturday morning before Daniel left, I asked him to get

my little Raggedy Ann stove out of the attic.

Susannah had lots of fun with "'sannah's 'tove!" that day! 

During this time I started letting Susannah play outside by herself some each day.  She puts miles and miles on her little stroller, pushing it around and around and around.  She LOVES being outside and I'm happy to let her have fun, get some good exercise, soak up some natural Vit. D, and burn some energy!

Yesterday evening Daniel was going to be getting home late again, so while we were waiting for him (so we could eat supper together), we went to the garden and she played in the garden for the first time.

Now it is Friday, the last workday of the week for Daniel, and I am kinda-sorta hoping that since some rain is coming through the area, he might get home early.  I hope that is not just wishful thinking.  He has worked late most of the days this week, too (it has been hot = they are busy), so we are really looking forward to having him home tomorrow!!

Something else I've learned over time, about times like this when Daniel is so very, very busy with his work:  Appreciate it and be thankful.  Even though sometimes it feels overwhelming and brain-frying to have him gone so much, there is usually a reason once we are past it and looking back.  It is God's way of providing for us.  For that, I'm grateful for every single hour that Daniel has to work.

This evening I feel guilty not adding this snippet:  Daniel did not get home early.  And in all honesty, by the time he got home I was feeling very frazzled and brain-fried.  I was trying to clean the bathroom sink, Sylvia was waking up and begging for food, Susannah wanted to touch the toothpaste and in trying to reach it knocked all of the sink stuff (that I had piled on the back of the commode) onto the floor with a huge, major crash.  Needless to say, I am glad Daniel is home and I am glad I don't have to plan on the pager going off this weekend. 

Thank you, Lord, for providing for ALL of our needs, including the need for rest.

A New Month to Renew Routines... hopefully?

Tomorrow marks my sweet daughter's 4-week birthday. Oh my, how those 4 weeks have gone by in a blur!! She no longer looks like a newborn. *sniff* Daniel commented yesterday that she looks like a little girl instead of a little baby. Well, she is certainly still very much a little baby, but I know what he means!


This past week started off great and ended with me floundering to get the basics of housework done. Laundry had piled up (clean and dirty), and I was starting the washing machine right before going to bed late last night so I would have a clean skirt to wear to church today. I felt like I was floundering. I know that it's ok... it really has only been 4 weeks since my life was turned upside down by childbirth and a new baby. :-) When I look over this past week and compare it to the week Sylvia was born, or even the week after she was born, we are much more back to "normal" now than we were then, so I know we ARE finding the new normal.

Yesterday and today I thought it might help if I went ahead and made up to-do lists for each day of this coming week. I think it will also help if I go back to an old "rule" I had that if I didn't get such-and-such accomplished on the day I had it down for, I let it go until the next week.

I have them all printed off and ready to go in the morning. They are very, very basic. Stuff like laundry, dishes and sweeping the floors. I'm a little excited to see how it goes! And on that note, I must go take advantage of the night and get some sleep.

Sylvia's Birth Story

For memories' sake, I want to write down Sylvia's birth story. Both for myself and maybe someday she would like to read it, too. {I have yet to write Susannah's birth story, I hope to one day before too long.} It has only taken me 2 weeks, lots of editing, and writing in little spurts of time here and there to get it down. I am probably forgetting some things and don't have it as eloquently written as I'd like, but for now it is what it is.

For several weeks leading up to Sylvia Hope's birthday, I was continually dialating 1 cm. each week and staying at 50% effaced. My Dr. - and myself - really didn't think I was going to make it to my due date. I was occasionally having a Braxton Hicks contraction, but nothing very noticeable. Only a time or two did I have contractions that I thought could be the real thing. At my 39 week appointment I was at 5 cm. and she really didn't think I would make it another week. So much so that for my 40 1/2 week appointment, Daniel took off work and we went prepared to stay if I had progressed another centimeter or more. Nothing had changed, so we came back home. With a detour to a park so I could swing for a while :) I bought and ate a second pineapple. And there was nothing to indicate labor was thinking about happening.

Sunday marked 41 weeks of pregnancy (you can read about it here). Hesitant to go much beyond than 41 weeks, several weeks earlier Daniel and I had prayed about, thought about, talked about and decided to be induced the following Monday (which would be 41 weeks and 1 day). I don't know why, I just didn't feel at peace about waiting much longer.

Early on in the pregnancy when people would ask the baby's due date, I would tell them "Feb. 26th, but I won't be surprised if it's a March baby." I just didn't think it was going to be THAT much "March."

Sunday afternoon I finished up some laundry and packing the needed bags, Daniel emptied the garbage and helped with some general picking up and cleaning up. We met up with Daniel's parents so Susannah could spend Sunday night with them since we had to leave early Monday morning for the hospital. After dropping off Susannah, we went to church and afterward celebrated our 8th anniversary 2 days early by going to dinner at Chili's. It was a special, sweet time together since we hadn't been on a date for several months, and I savored every moment.

Bright and early Monday morning I dragged out of bed, showered and got myself ready to go. And it was snowing. :-) We were going to have a snow baby after-all, in MARCH, no-less! (We have some cuh-razy weather in these parts!) Daniel dropped me off at the hospital entrance and went to park the car. I didn't have to wait long before being taken back to my room, and Daniel was soon with me as well.

At first I wasn't too sure that I liked my nurse. Oh, I was sure she was competent and knew her stuff, but she seemed a little drill-sergeant-ish. One of my favorite things at that point in the game was that I didn't have to take off my rings or watch! I was getting ready to take them off and she said "oh, you can leave those on!" In all the "here's what to do" information they give you, it says to remove all of those things. I was very happy to be able to keep them on. She got me all hooked up to everything and we waited for the Dr. to arrive. I said that I would like to hold off on the pitocin for a bit, and see if just breaking my water would start anything. My Dr. and nurse were both fine with that which made me happy, too. :) So that's what we did. And nothing happened. Not a single blip on the screen.

Eventually the nurse started pitocin and labor started at 9:30am. I was still at 5cm. and 50% effaced. The contractions quickly got very intense with just a low dose of pitocin. By about 10:15am Daniel was wondering if he was going to have any fingers left by the time the baby was born (but he never said a word to me about it - I thought that was really sweet of him!), and I was going through each contraction with my face buried in a pillow. Getting an epidural was not far from joining my "birth plan", but I wanted to wait a bit longer to see how I could handle the contractions.

Oh, and once labor started, Drill-Sargeant-Nurse turned into Much-Nicer-Nurse. She offered that I could try a birthing ball and see if I liked that at all. I was on that through a handful of contractions and knew an epidural was the next step in the plans. The nurse checked to make sure I wasn't too far along for one, and I was only about 6cm. and 80%. It seemed to take forever for the anesthesiologist to get there (a nice Scottish guy who did my epidural for Susannah's birth), but I was soon getting more comfy and my legs were becoming "decorations" as Daniel calls it. :-) Going from the intensity of labor to resting/dozing so quickly, my blood pressure dropped and so did the contractions. A shot in the IV fixed all that and we were quickly back in business.

About 12:30pm I mentioned that I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. My Dr. stopped by right then and checked, and I was ready to push. I was a little surprised that it was time already. Just a few hours had passed! The nurse got everything ready, an intern who was shadowing her arrived to take her place through the birth, and my Dr. returned from a super-fast lunch.

I started pushing right after 1:00pm, and after the first push I was really surprised when Daniel said he could see the head already. (I pushed for 30 minutes with Susannah, so I wasn't expecting a head-sighting so soon!) After the 2nd push my Dr. offered that I could feel the baby's head if I wanted to. 3 pushes later our little Sylvia Hope was born at 1:13pm.

My Dr. has a neat practice in that she does not say what the baby is. Instead (as long as there is nothing life-threatening) she holds the baby up for the parents to see for themselves. Through blurry vision I could see that I had just given birth to our 2nd daughter, and said something like "It's another GIRL!" As soon as Sylvia was born, I right away felt much better - seemingly than I had for several weeks prior (I'm sure adrenaline helped a little :)). I was pretty clear-headed and really enjoyed meeting our daughter while she was on my stomach waiting for Daniel to cut the cord and all that goes on in the first minutes following birth.

She was then moved to the warming tray to be cleaned off a little better, get weighed and all that fun stuff. Oh, and to exercise her lungs a little. :-) Daniel was by her side most of the time, and one thing I do not want to ever forget: The emotions that crossed his face as he looked at our daughter for the first minutes of her life. There was a mixture of enormous daddy-pride along with some blinking, wet eyes and hard swallows. I doubt he would admit all of that, but I saw it. I think I fell in love with him a little bit more right then.

Since I was feeling so good, when the nurse offered that I could have some skin-to-skin time with Sylvia, I was thrilled to accept.

A few minutes after being placed on my chest, Sylvia started rooting around looking to eat. I was excited to help her start eating right away and with little trouble, she was eating like a champ.

I started regaining feeling and use of the lower half of my body, and continued to feel really good overall. Shortly after being moved to my post-partum room, I was cleared to take a shower. I was pleasantly surprised with that, and that I even felt like taking a shower to boot!

I rested and slept great in the hospital, Sylvia continued to be a good eater (though sleepy and slow sometimes!), and we came home shortly after noon on Wednesday. We are all settling into our new lives as a family of four.

6 Days Old

I praise God for our daughter, and at times am overwhelmed that He has blessed me again with the privilege and joy of mothering another child. My heart is filled with thankfulness for this.

Life With Two Little Girls

As I fully expected, life with two little people to care for is different than life with one little person to care for. But I would not trade it for the WORLD.


So far I've only been "solo" for 2 days since Sylvia was born, and we just kinda rolled through each day as it went along. And I was glad for my 1 morning cup of coffee. :-) Daniel took off for the week after Sylvia was born and my sister-in-law came to visit and help Wed. - Fri. of this past week. She was a huge help, getting the dishes washed, the floors swept, and did a boat-load of laundry for me.


Today I am back to flying solo, so we will just roll along with the day however it goes!! Last night was the first night I let Sylvia go longer stretches (about 5 hrs.) between her night-time feedings, so I am hopefully a little more rested, too. (Even though, on the whole, I have been MORE rested since Sylvia was born than I was for about a month before her birth!)


All committed help has already been here, and those 2 weeks flew past!! On that note, I can't believe today is Sylvia's 2 week birthday, either!! Now I am really back in the saddle, so whatever happens or doesn't happen is up to me. Thankfully we are still getting meals, and my sisters gave us a LOT of food. We have meals coming every other day yet this week, a well-stocked freezer of casseroles ready to bake, and a few more people that have said they want to bring us a meal in another week or two. Wow! "Blessed" is an appropriate word!!

I know this is a shorter post, but I am starving for breakfast plus I need to get up and get moving for the day. I hope to be able to post more soon!

It's A....

Girl!!!

Our second daughter, Sylvia Hope was born Monday, March 5th. She shocked us all with her weight of 8 lbs. 14.5 oz.!! I guess she was really fattening up while waiting to make her appearance. :-) She measured 20.5" long. (She is the same length that Susannah was, but 1 1/2 lbs. bigger.)

We are so happy to finally have her on the outside where we can see her and hold her and love on her. Oh my, there is nothing more heart-capturing than a squirmy, snuggly, miracle-of-life baby that grew inside of me for 9 months!!! We are in love, plain and simple.

Thrilled to no end, enjoying some skin-to-skin with my daughter.

Labor was induced Monday morning and contractions started about 9:30am. After about 10 minutes of pushing (5 pushes in 4 contractions - yes, I was proud of that!) Sylvia was born at 1:13pm after a little under 4 hours of labor. I was already 5cm. when we got there (and had been for 2 weeks) so once things started, they went fast.

All showered and snuggled the first evening.

I felt so amazing and so much better as soon as she was born. I couldn't believe the difference! I think one of my first comments was "I can BREATHE again!!"

Susannah got to meet her little sister Tuesday morning.

I had packed a few books to be able to have some
"quality time" with Susannah when she came to visit.
Daniel is reading "I'm A Big Sister" to his 2 girls. :-)

We came home Wednesday shortly after noon. Aside from being a little tired from lack of sleep, I'm continuing to feel really good (and the pain meds help. ;-) ).

Sylvia ready to go home, wearing the same outfit
her big sister wore home from the hospital.

Susannah loves her baby sister, "Sigh-ee-uh", though we can't get her to say her name very much. She is very protective and wants to make sure Sylvia has her paci and blankie if she notices that they aren't with her.

Well, it will soon be lunchtime for everyone, so in wanting to get this posted already, I will have to save more for another post.

41 Weeks

Today marks the 41st week of pregnancy for me with our 2nd baby. I do feel like I have been pregnant for-ev-er. :-) I won't deny that. I know that I really haven't been and won't be. I feel like "this is the longest I've EVER been pregnant in my LIFE!" but as this is only our 2nd child I don't know that I can proclaim that too loudly. ;-)

The past week or two have certainly been more trying, physically and emotionally. My emotions haven't been terrible, there was one weekend where for a day and a half I just wanted to sit down and cry "just because." The rest of the time I am just exhausted almost all of the time.

Not as a way of complaining, but more just sharing and recording for my own sake, most days I feel like I am barely going to survive. Some mornings I wake up and think "there's no way I can have the baby today, I'm too tired!"

Sleep eludes me several hours each night and if I try to nap in the day I rarely fall asleep very deeply or for very long at all, I just lie there dozing and resting (wishing I could be sleeping!). Saturday and Sunday mornings are my catch-up and recovery time when it comes to sleep. I don't have to bust out of bed early to get Daniel's breakfast and lunch, so I can stay asleep and get a second cycle of good sleep. I have not checked for sure, but I think I usually fall asleep the first time at night around 1 or 2am... then I usually HAVE to get up about 4:30 or 5 and it takes me a bit to fall back asleep from a bathroom visit. Then on workdays the alarm starts going off around 6 or 6:30, so not really any time for another good "sleep" in there. Without feeling guilty about it, I do not bust myself out of bed Sunday mornings so we can get to Sunday School because that is ONE day that I can sleep more and not feel dead all day long.

The other downside to the past 2 or 3 weeks of this journey has been that my back has been bothering me more and more. Especially if I lie on my left side, for some reason my back just doesn't like it very well. But I get weary of being on my right side. :-) So in the mornings I cripple out of bed and creep around for most of the morning until my back gets most of the kinks out and then I'm a little better for the rest of the day. Susannah goes in circles around me quite a bit lately, and I feel like it takes me 5 minutes to get from one side of the kitchen to the other! I have been going to the chiropractor weekly for the last month or two, and that really helps.

Between lack of good rest, back pain, and feeling like an over-inflated beach ball that an elephant is sitting on, no, it has not been easy lately. Many days I feel like I simply cannot go on. I cannot move another muscle. I cannot bend over or squat down to pick one more thing up off the floor, or lean and stretch to wash another dish, or figure out one more meal to eat. Multiple times each day though, I just pray for God to give me strength and grace to get me through the moment. Through another few minutes, another hour, another day. And He does. And I make it. I have Scripture verses taped to my cupboard door, and the lyrics to the hymn, O Love That Will Not Let Me Go, taped up at the kitchen sink. I find comfort and identity in the 2nd line "I rest my weary soul in Thee!" as well as throughout the rest of the song.

A few good things that have come from being pregnant this long...

I was able to attend church this morning which was a surprise mini-concert and then message from Steve Green. If the baby was already born (and hadn't come extra early), I probably would not be up to going to church yet. This morning was a HUGE blessing to my soul and I'm so glad that I am still pregnant so that I could attend.

I have been keeping the laundry caught up and the floors better picked up. :-) I am working with Susannah very purposely helping her keep her toys picked up when she finished playing with them, or before naps and bedtimes. (Plus it's SO much easier for her to pick them up than for me to!) We have had more time to implement "room time" into most of Susannah's days where she plays in her room by herself for 20 minutes (we started out with just a few minutes and worked up to 20). This gives me a chance to sit down a catch my breath, close my eyes if I really need to, or give my undivided attention to a task (which will soon likely be one of the baby's feedings).

A continued blessing for this pregnancy is that the baby and I are continuing to do great. I still am not experiencing any swelling (aside from the big beach ball, of course!), my blood pressure and heart rate have been great, and baby continues to pass with flying colors each visit as well. Now if I could just have a little more lung room to breathe deeply again!!

To close out this update, which will most likely be my last pregnancy update before the baby comes, here is a picture from today. Officially 41 weeks pregnant. Yes, it was 51° when we left for church this morning and I wore short sleeves and no jacket. :-) And yes, I do wear jeans to church lately!! I grew out of my (non-maternity) skirt around 37-38 weeks (rather, I had it hiked up as far as I dared hike it and it was getting too small to fit around and over), and as I have never found a maternity skirt I like, I figure a couple Sundays wearing jeans is not going to hurt anything. (And it helps that in our church some dress to the nines and others dress in jeans, so I'm not an oddball wearing jeans. :-) )