Hopefully their fever breaks soon so we can get back to our normal routine.
31 July 2012
Sickos and grouches
Hopefully their fever breaks soon so we can get back to our normal routine.
18 July 2012
sometimes you just need an Olympian on your side
(This is a long and convoluted post, so bear with me.)
Seven weeks ago, I had my sweet OB tell me that there was a high chance that my pregnancy would end in miscarriage.
Rewind to 11 weeks ago when I recognized the many signs nature has of letting me know I am expecting. I had a panic attack. Let me clarify.
I know that most couples embrace every pregnancy with open arms and joy. When JL and I found out that we were pregnant with Walter, we were immediately elated. JL came home from work and he picked me up and spun me around our itty bitty living room until I wanted to vomit. We knew that there was a baby that needed to come and we were ecstatic.
There was a minor complication in my pregnancy that led to some expected bleeding, but other than that things were normal. We assumed that we would be able to carry on with our plan to have as many children as we saw fit in the time frame that we chose.
We miscarried three times before we had Henry. All four of the pregnancies were unplanned. With each miscarriage I was thrown deeper and deeper into a state of severe depression. I didn't understand what was happening.
The same minor complication that had occurred with Walter occurred during my pregnancy with Henry. The pocket of blood didn't dissipate naturally, however, and I spent my time on and off bed rest with a truly bloody birth finishing things off.
At my six week post-partum check-up, my OB and I had a quick discussion about the fact that my uterus was inverted, something that he or any other doctor I had seen had never brought up.
Four months later, I miscarried again. I was inconsolable. I cried for weeks. My body had once again betrayed me in a way I never thought that it would. As a child, as a teenager, and as an adult, I never once supposed that I would be unable to successfully carry children from the start of a pregnancy to the end. For months, I would burst into hysterics and my sweet husband would hold me and remind me of our two beautiful boys. Of Heavenly Father's timing. Of trials of faith and lessons learned.
After five months I finally found closure. I realized that I might never have another child. I thought about how wonderful it was that JL and I met at such a young age when my body would have the energy and ability to fight for our babies. I pondered on the many women who never get to have children in this life. Who was I to complain when I woke up every day to two of the most loving children, healthy and strong and mine?
One month later we found out we were expecting. I dreaded the thought of losing another pregnancy but I was so overcome by hope that this would be different I let myself believe that it would be. Because of previous complications and miscarriages, I went in at 8 weeks for my first check-up. I felt great! We usually miscarried by 7 weeks, so I was feeling confident that the hardest part was done. My OB breezed through the beginning of the appointment. We talked about how my thyroid medication was working, how I was feeling, how I was handling things with the boys, etc. As we moved into the ultrasound room, I called JL back and he stood next to me and held my hand while we watched that little heart flutter on the screen. It took a second to process the large pocket of blood, but when I did, I didn't think anything of it. I'd seen the complication with both boys so why wouldn't it be there for this child? My OB hummed and printed twice the usual amount of pictures, shot us a small smile, and told us to meet him back in the exam room.
We got down to business. The pocket of blood was unusually large, but even worse, it was blocking the placenta from fully attaching. Until it cleared away, if it ever did, the placenta was stuck with no where to go, having attached firmly on either side of the pocket. Our rate of miscarriage was four times higher than normal. He wanted to see me in a week to do another ultrasound. Until then, I was advised to minimized my activity as best as possible and be on the watch for hemorrhaging.
When I returned a week later, my OB realistically laid out the next few months. He had looked through my file and assessed things. He said it was a small miracle we were able to get pregnant so easily and an even greater miracle that we had carried both boys to full term. The ultrasound showed no change, if anything, the pocket of blood looked larger, bigger than the baby. He gave me a list of restrictions and told me that if I started cramping to sit down and stop moving. I knew in that instant that if I combined my faith and his willpower that we would get this baby here safely.
At my appointment two weeks ago, the blood pocket had shrunk dramatically. The baby was healthy and beautiful. And most importantly, I knew that no matter what happened this baby would always be mine. So while there is still a 25% chance that we will miscarry for what would be the fifth time, I'm at peace. I'm calm with the knowledge that this is out of my control because, just like most mothers, I say about 100 prayers a day and I know that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me completely. I know that I have a husband who cherishes me even if we never bring another child to this Earth. I know that I am a mother to two boys, that I will always be their mother, and just like with this little swirly fetus that I feel moving around as I type, nothing will change that.
And all of those things and so many more make me one of the most blessed women.
Seven weeks ago, I had my sweet OB tell me that there was a high chance that my pregnancy would end in miscarriage.
Rewind to 11 weeks ago when I recognized the many signs nature has of letting me know I am expecting. I had a panic attack. Let me clarify.
I know that most couples embrace every pregnancy with open arms and joy. When JL and I found out that we were pregnant with Walter, we were immediately elated. JL came home from work and he picked me up and spun me around our itty bitty living room until I wanted to vomit. We knew that there was a baby that needed to come and we were ecstatic.
There was a minor complication in my pregnancy that led to some expected bleeding, but other than that things were normal. We assumed that we would be able to carry on with our plan to have as many children as we saw fit in the time frame that we chose.
We miscarried three times before we had Henry. All four of the pregnancies were unplanned. With each miscarriage I was thrown deeper and deeper into a state of severe depression. I didn't understand what was happening.
The same minor complication that had occurred with Walter occurred during my pregnancy with Henry. The pocket of blood didn't dissipate naturally, however, and I spent my time on and off bed rest with a truly bloody birth finishing things off.
At my six week post-partum check-up, my OB and I had a quick discussion about the fact that my uterus was inverted, something that he or any other doctor I had seen had never brought up.
Four months later, I miscarried again. I was inconsolable. I cried for weeks. My body had once again betrayed me in a way I never thought that it would. As a child, as a teenager, and as an adult, I never once supposed that I would be unable to successfully carry children from the start of a pregnancy to the end. For months, I would burst into hysterics and my sweet husband would hold me and remind me of our two beautiful boys. Of Heavenly Father's timing. Of trials of faith and lessons learned.
After five months I finally found closure. I realized that I might never have another child. I thought about how wonderful it was that JL and I met at such a young age when my body would have the energy and ability to fight for our babies. I pondered on the many women who never get to have children in this life. Who was I to complain when I woke up every day to two of the most loving children, healthy and strong and mine?
One month later we found out we were expecting. I dreaded the thought of losing another pregnancy but I was so overcome by hope that this would be different I let myself believe that it would be. Because of previous complications and miscarriages, I went in at 8 weeks for my first check-up. I felt great! We usually miscarried by 7 weeks, so I was feeling confident that the hardest part was done. My OB breezed through the beginning of the appointment. We talked about how my thyroid medication was working, how I was feeling, how I was handling things with the boys, etc. As we moved into the ultrasound room, I called JL back and he stood next to me and held my hand while we watched that little heart flutter on the screen. It took a second to process the large pocket of blood, but when I did, I didn't think anything of it. I'd seen the complication with both boys so why wouldn't it be there for this child? My OB hummed and printed twice the usual amount of pictures, shot us a small smile, and told us to meet him back in the exam room.
We got down to business. The pocket of blood was unusually large, but even worse, it was blocking the placenta from fully attaching. Until it cleared away, if it ever did, the placenta was stuck with no where to go, having attached firmly on either side of the pocket. Our rate of miscarriage was four times higher than normal. He wanted to see me in a week to do another ultrasound. Until then, I was advised to minimized my activity as best as possible and be on the watch for hemorrhaging.
When I returned a week later, my OB realistically laid out the next few months. He had looked through my file and assessed things. He said it was a small miracle we were able to get pregnant so easily and an even greater miracle that we had carried both boys to full term. The ultrasound showed no change, if anything, the pocket of blood looked larger, bigger than the baby. He gave me a list of restrictions and told me that if I started cramping to sit down and stop moving. I knew in that instant that if I combined my faith and his willpower that we would get this baby here safely.
At my appointment two weeks ago, the blood pocket had shrunk dramatically. The baby was healthy and beautiful. And most importantly, I knew that no matter what happened this baby would always be mine. So while there is still a 25% chance that we will miscarry for what would be the fifth time, I'm at peace. I'm calm with the knowledge that this is out of my control because, just like most mothers, I say about 100 prayers a day and I know that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me completely. I know that I have a husband who cherishes me even if we never bring another child to this Earth. I know that I am a mother to two boys, that I will always be their mother, and just like with this little swirly fetus that I feel moving around as I type, nothing will change that.
And all of those things and so many more make me one of the most blessed women.
17 July 2012
and baby makes 5!!!
If the ultrasound didn't give it away, we're having another baby!!!! JL and I are elated, Henry is unsure, and Walter is only excited about the prospect of having a baby sister. (We don't know yet what we're having, but he is DEMANDING a sister. Talk about putting the pressure on.) If all goes well, we'll be meeting this little one around January 15.
At a measly 14 weeks, I've yet to gain any weight, but this baby is no longer hiding from the world. I've had to pack away most of my regular clothes and pull out all of my maternity things. Especially pants!
I'm looking forward to a very exciting holiday season and an extremely happy new year!
13 July 2012
who needs a splash park!
This week I gave in to the incessant heat and hauled the boys down the road to the local Kmart. I strolled out $2 poorer with this beaut. Best purchase of the entire summer! Every afternoon before dinner I haul out the hose and let our poor, malnourished grass get a little water and the boys run in and out of the sprinkler, happy as little clams.
But the absolute best part is that Walter moves the hose around the yard for me as spots get "so wet", so I can lounge in my little plastic chair under our tree.
(Walter moving the balls out of the way and prepping his muscles to move the water 3 ft.)
Brothers!
20 May 2012
a less than perfect weekend
Yesterday I woke up with a fast developing migraine that left me dry heaving in a Sam's Club toilet and eventually emptying the entire contents of my stomach on the cold concrete floor of our garage. Classy.
JL nailed his trusty, much loved and therefore much ripped childhood quilt to our window and I slept the entire day away. I woke up and we had In N'Out for dinner.
We went to bed. I woke up with the same headache and have spent the majority of the day subtly popping my neck and pretending to be normal. Which worked out so well we left church 20 minutes early.
The boys won't nap. JL is busy with church responsibilities. I have a meeting in an hour.
Sometimes I just have to call it.
[The best part of days like today are that JL really gets to flex his awesome muscles and remind the kids and I why we love him as much as we do. Piece picker upper extraordinaire! I love that man.]
13 April 2012
in a moment of sincere frustration
Isn't it funny how the past can come creeping back up on us in the best possible sense? This afternoon during the boys mutual nap-time (hallelujah!), I got on Pinterest to see what I've missed in the last week of ignoring the computer. There on the top of my boards was a picture of my Relief Society President from my freshman year in college with a link to her blog, pinned by one of my dear friends, Amelia!
I happily clicked the link and dove head first into a sea of optimism and motivation to keep trying! It was nothing short of a metaphorical blanket wrapped around my weary and tired shoulders.
Like all young mothers, I feel the daily tugs from kids, JL, school, church, health, and my own need for five minutes of complete silence. I have moments, sometimes weeks, where I just want to throw my hands up in the air and sit down and sob.
[Today Walter took a red block and pressed it against the hallway wall juuuust hard enough to transfer the paint from one surface to the other. My two-month old coat of paint ruined by red scribbles that won't come off.]
And just like all of those times Mindy randomly stopped by my dorm room, or we ran into each other on campus, she reminded me to keep going. In a post discussing books by the author Linda Eyre, she finished with a quote that I direly needed to hear.
"I'll have to be honest and tell her the whole truth about mothering. When she ask me what to expect, I'll tell her to expect surprises. I'll tell her that mothering is the hardest thing she will ever do, but that it is also much more joyful than even she can fathom.... There is no greater joy in life than that of being a mother. Along with the job description comes not only chauffeur, cook, maid, and drill sergeant, but most importantly, gardener of souls - fertilizer, weeder, waterer, exposer to the light, and then watcher as each seedling grows and becomes it own beautiful self... Truly, motherhood, complete with its valley depths and mountain peaks, is life's most astounding experience!"
I highly recommend any mother of young children to hop on over to Mindy's blog, Busy Bliss. She's got such a contagious enthusiasm for life, and let's be honest, we all need a little boost from time to time. She also has no shame in sharing some of her epic fail moments, i.e. driving over a poopy diaper in the library parking lot.
Like all young mothers, I feel the daily tugs from kids, JL, school, church, health, and my own need for five minutes of complete silence. I have moments, sometimes weeks, where I just want to throw my hands up in the air and sit down and sob.
[Today Walter took a red block and pressed it against the hallway wall juuuust hard enough to transfer the paint from one surface to the other. My two-month old coat of paint ruined by red scribbles that won't come off.]
And just like all of those times Mindy randomly stopped by my dorm room, or we ran into each other on campus, she reminded me to keep going. In a post discussing books by the author Linda Eyre, she finished with a quote that I direly needed to hear.
"I'll have to be honest and tell her the whole truth about mothering. When she ask me what to expect, I'll tell her to expect surprises. I'll tell her that mothering is the hardest thing she will ever do, but that it is also much more joyful than even she can fathom.... There is no greater joy in life than that of being a mother. Along with the job description comes not only chauffeur, cook, maid, and drill sergeant, but most importantly, gardener of souls - fertilizer, weeder, waterer, exposer to the light, and then watcher as each seedling grows and becomes it own beautiful self... Truly, motherhood, complete with its valley depths and mountain peaks, is life's most astounding experience!"
I highly recommend any mother of young children to hop on over to Mindy's blog, Busy Bliss. She's got such a contagious enthusiasm for life, and let's be honest, we all need a little boost from time to time. She also has no shame in sharing some of her epic fail moments, i.e. driving over a poopy diaper in the library parking lot.
10 January 2012
Silence...
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