I tell myself, its okay to ask for help...

Saturday, May 30th.

Warning: This post contains lots of TMI info... lots of girly part words and it is my honest very blatant recount of what I've experienced.  I share it as a way for me to remember what this experience has been like, to help me keep track of the details since I can't seem to remember anything these days, and to... I pray to God look back in 6 months, while I hold our little baby and be able to give thanks to God again for putting our little miracle in our arms. That is my greatest prayer.  

While on the blog I've only posted our weekly progress through week 14, today I'm actually at 22 weeks. I've been feeling kind of guilty lately for not posting more stuff about the kids, what they are up to and all the normal schedule stuff we've been up to.  And if I were to give an excuse as to why I haven't, it would be (not because the activities and stuff with the kids has slowed down), it hasn't; its just that the baby and this pregnancy has kind of consumed everything in life as of late.

The truth is, this pregnancy hasn't been easy.  While I've thankfully moved completely past the nausea that plagued me in the beginning, I've unfortunately had a few complications (scares) that have caused additional stress and worry.  In the coming weeks you will see that I've been faced with a couple scares of bleeding.  From my very first visit the doctor shared with me symptoms I should never ignore and always call their office to share.  The first thing she shared was if I have bleeding.  I have O negative blood type and while I don't know the medical specifics of exactly what can happen, I do know that I have to have shots of Rogam to prevent my body from rejecting the baby.  Bleeding is a primary sign of rejection so she very clearly told me to call if I have any of those symptoms.  Unfortunately a few weeks ago, I experienced my first scare.  The office was wonderful and within an hour of me calling had me come in, where they performed an ultrasound to check on the baby.  Thank God everything was okay and they couldn't identify where the spotting was coming from.  I received my shot of Rogam was sent home and told to rest.

My version of resting, with being the mother of three very active children, isn't probably the best definition of resting but I did try to take it easy.  Jarrett's been very supportive, often coming home early to help with the kids, picking up dinner so I don't have to worry about making something and taking the lead with the responsibilities of the kids.

I was hoping that my one scare was all I'd have to experience in these next 5 or so months, but unfortunately that hasn't been the case.  It seems like weekly I've continue to have bleeding/spotting and at around 19 I started having regular contractions.  Nothing painful but continuous contractions and cramping.  At one of my now weekly appointments, my doctor told me she wanted me to start taking Advil to try and give my uterus a break and allow it to relax.  Wonderfully the medicine worked amazingly well and after taking it I quickly realized my contractions were much more frequent than I was even realizing.  My doctor told me that while the medicine wouldn't hurt the baby, one side effect was that it could degree the amount of amniotic fluid around the baby.  To make sure things were okay, I was going to have to start having weekly ultrasounds.

Then I got to go to Iowa.  I was so excited for my trip to see my family knowing it would be the last trip I take this year. I had such a wonderful time in Iowa, getting to spend time with my new niece and nephew, getting to attend my brother's wedding and my other sister's bridal shower.  And getting to see my parents.  While I was there, I really didn't feel like I was being "too active" but yet again my body told me otherwise.  On Saturday morning during my trip I woke up to find that I was again spotting and having regular contractions.  I stressed about it all day while following the same instructions my doctor had given me the time before... take 600mg Advil every 6 hours, increase your water intake, and rest (have limited mobility).  That day I laid on my sister's couch pretty much the entire day.  I debated if  I should go to the doctor to get the shot of Rogam (this would have been my 4th shot)- most women with O negative blood type get it twice throughout their entire pregnancy.  I told myself if I was still having symptoms the next morning I'd go in.  The next morning, I was.  With my mom and sister's extra nudge I went to the ER to make sure everything was okay.  I was now 20 weeks along.

When I arrived at the hospital in my hometown, they immediately sent me straight to the OB unit where two nurses greeted me.  They were very friendly and got me all set up right away.  The paged the doctor (who wasn't actually even at the hospital- I'm from a small town) and gave me instructions for what they wanted me to do prior to him getting there. I felt so many different emotions lying in the birthing room.  To my left was the incubator bed they put the baby in after birth and in front of me was a pain chart mothers use when in labor.  I pictured what it must have been like for my mom to give birth in this exact same hospital and while I was excited to see what an actual labor and delivery room looks like, I did NOT want to be there at only half way through my pregnancy.

About an hour after I arrived the doctor came into my room.  He was a young, nice looking physician probably a year or two younger than me.  He was very nice, and asked me about myself, about Arizona and what brought me to Iowa before jumping into the reason for my visit.  When I told him this was my first pregnancy but this baby will be our fourth child he shared he was a father of four as well.  He then said, "I'm sorry you had to wait a bit for me, I was actually teaching Sunday school to my son's class."  His friendly bedside manner immediately made me felt at ease.  He shared that the baby's heartbeat looked good and while they didn't have an ultrasound machine his best educated guess was that my contractions and spotting was coming from a UTI they picked up in my urine test. He gave me the start of some antibiotics (being that we do not have any pharmacy open in town on Sundays) and he told me to follow up with my OB the following morning as I headed back to Arizona.  He also told me if the symptoms changed, got worse or if I had any questions, not to hesitate to call or come back in.   While scary to have yet another episode of bleeding, he calmed my nerves, provided reassurance and made me feel glad that I had come in.  With my fourth shot of Rogam in my back side I was on my way to my sister's bridal shower with 45 minutes to spare.

The following day, after I got back to Arizona, I went into see my OB who examined me and said the baby was doing fine, my cervix was still long and the way they want it to be and that in the couple of days I had taken the antibiotic my UTI was clearing up.   My doctor then had yet another very serious conversation with me about resting.  She used the word BED REST.  She said, Angie, while you think you might not be doing nearly as much as you want to, these are signs your body is stressed and you need to be doing less.  While we know bed-rest is not something you want to do, if we have to we can prescribe that.  She said, you are a working mom with three children. Think about your activity level compared to a first time mom without any children.  She then went onto clarify, there are some women in their pregnancy that can run a marathon and there are some women who have to be on bed rest for the majority of their pregnancy.  Each pregnancy is different and you have to listen to your body... the spotting, the contractions, the cramps, the back pain, these are all symptoms you are doing too much.  I want you to have a 10 pound (NO MORE THAN 15 POUND) weight restriction and I want you to be sitting or lying as much as you physically can.  This means you are going to have to ask for help.

Hearing her say those words I could tell the seriousness in her voice and the weight of the words coming out of her mouth.  As Jarrett sat in the chair next to me sitting on the exam table, I could tell he was thankful she said it.  He's been telling me for weeks to rest.  I admit, I'm not the best at it.  I like to get things done and when I see stuff that needs to be done, it nags at me until I do it.  I feel like I'm not pulling my weight, doing my share, keeping up, if I'm not doing what I do.  While I'm by no means as productive as half the mothers out there in the world, I'm usually not the kind of person who can sit around for hours.  Hearing the doctors orders, I knew I was going to have to let go of the reins even more and just learn to let things go. I was also going to have to learn how to ask for help and be okay with it.

Nana and Papa have been extremely helpful for us in the last few months, helping with our kids in more ways than I can even recount.  After the doctors appointment Jarrett shared the news with his parents who it seemed were there immediately after to check in and see what they could to do help.  I'm not sure how we will ever repay them but I'm oh so thankful they have and continue to be here.

Since my appointment a week and a half ago, I've really made a conscious effort to just rest.  I come home from work and spend most of the rest of my day on the couch, either lying down or sitting.  It feels really strange for me and I feel guilty.  Of course the kids still need a million and one things but I've gotten better at having them come to me or having them bring me things, so I don't have to keep getting up and down.

And then there was this week. I went to bed on Monday night and I knew I didn't feel quite right.  I was still taking the Advil as the doctor prescribed as needed.  By 1:30 in the morning, after I had been up every 30 minutes to use the bathroom and had consistent contractions, cramping and back pains, I knew something wasn't right.  I spent the majority of the night on the couch (pretty much my bed as of late) and by 4 am I had to wake up Jarrett.  My back pain was really bad and I asked him to rub it for me.  I told him I thought I had another UTI and I wasn't sure if I should go to the ER or if I could wait until my doctors office opened at 8.  By 4:30 I gave up on trying to sleep and went to take a warm shower.  I leaned against the glass door and let the water beads bounce off my lower spasming back. I got back out of the shower and went back to bed for almost 45 minutes before getting up for work.  As soon as my doctors office opened, I called them and left a message asking to get in.

At 2:00 that afternoon I was sitting in their office waiting to be seen.  At this point I had already put the label on myself that I was the "Chronic patient- that always has SOME problem."  I hate to feel like a burden and yet that is exactly what I've felt like for weeks- to many people, not just my OB office.  The doctor, a new one,  came in and I apologized for taking up her time.  She, as all of them have done, reassured me I am not a burden but proactive and exactly the type of patient they want to have.  After asking me some questions and an exam she said, "Yes you have a bacterial infection, it is good you came in."  She gave me a prescription, and allowed me to listen to the baby's heartbeat on the Doppler.  "160 bpm", she said, "that's great!"  I left feeling thankful that I had recognized the different symptoms and hoped I had found the answer to my new complication.

The very next day (Thursday) I was scheduled for my now weekly, routine ultrasound.  This ultrasound was to check the fluid levels for the baby since I've been taking Advil for the contractions.  My appointment was at 2 but I wasn't taken back until almost 2:40.  I got up on the table, laid down and she started.  With 30 seconds of putting the wand on my stomach, she asked, "Are you drinking very much water?" to which I responded, "Yes I feel like it."  I could tell something was wrong immediately.  Even the ultrasound picture looked different than everyone I had had before... there was no black darkness around the baby.  She said, "Your amniotic fluid levels are very very very (I counted all three very's) low.  They will probably want to send you to the hospital.  I'll be right back."  and she disappeared out of the room to go get a doctor.  I was by myself, having told Jarrett there would be plenty more pictures to see, and again I wished more than anything he was there.  A few minutes later she returned, printed out a couple of pictures showing the one or two pockets (I'm not sure if it was the same one from a different angle) of fluid she found.  It was SCARY!  VERY SCARY.  She asked me to get dressed and that they wanted to move me to an exam room to be seen by the doctor right away.

Immediately my stress level shot up, I sent Jarrett a text, "Scary Dad, baby has no amniotic fluid.  They are really worried!" and his send in the 20 seconds I had to update him before being moved to another exam room.  as I tried to type additional information, several nurses and the physician was in already evaluating me. Taking my blood pressure, telling me to get undressed again and asking me specifically how many times I had been taking the Advil.  While they didn't do anything to insinuate or say it was my fault, I couldn't help but feel I had done something horrible to my baby.  I was the one how took the pills, whether I was following orders or not.  The doctor was explaining lots of information about the situation but I could hardly focus as the guilt and worry I felt took over.  With tears welling up in my eyes, I barely blurted out, "I'm sorry, I feel like I've done something terrible to the baby."  to which she reached out her hand to grab mine and said, "No, you were doing what we asked and at the time the risk of having you go into early labor with those contractions, we had to have you take that to give your uterus a rest."  I tried my best to gather myself and focus on what she was saying.  "We want to make sure your membranes haven't ruptured so I'd like to examine you"  At this point I've been "examined" so many times, I feel like I'll be ready for anything when actual labor comes (Let's just hope that's at week 40).  The doctor said I want to make sure you are not leaking any fluid so I'm going to go look at this under a microscope.  I'll be right back.

In the two minutes she was gone, I tried to give Jarrett and update via text, who was also worried, sending me message after message.  He said to have me tell him where I was and he would come meet me.  At this point I didn't know if I was going to still be sent to the hospital or what they were going to say, "I told him to stay put until I knew more."  And then the doctor was back in the room.  She said, "The good news is your cervix is closed and looks long which is what we want.  You are not leaking fluid which is great.  The reality is, the medication you've been taking to keep your contractions at bay, have caused the baby's amniotic fluid to be dangerously low.  We are concerned but I'm not sending you to the hospital at this point.  The only way to get the fluid levels back up is to drink lots and lots of water (between 170-200 ounces a day is what we'd like you to drink), to limit your activity (by that I mean lay around as much as you can) and try to rest on your left side for 10 minutes each hour.  I want you to monitor the baby's movement and be very aware of how often you are feeling things.  Let us know if you don't feel movement.  We are going to have you come back next week and we will repeat the ultrasound again.  If the levels are still this low, then we will talk about our next measure.  Let's just hope all the water you will consume in the next few days will fix this.  Until then do NOT take any other Advil.  If your contractions get worse or anything else changes call us immediately.

I thanked the doctor over and over and vowed to drink more water than I ever have in my whole life.  I came home and sent a text messages to our families, giving them an update and asking them to pray...

" Hi family, I need your prayers again please.  I had an ultrasound today to check on the baby and it was very scary.  The tech left the room immediately to go get a doctor as they found the medication I've been taking to stop early contractions (which could have sent me into early labor) have caused the baby's amniotic fluid to be dangerously low.  Please pray for the baby and that the fluid levels will come back up and all will be okay.  Thank you in advance for your prayers." 

I'm a big believer in prayers and I believe it can only help.  Thankfully our families responded in full force, telling me they had already been praying but would "pray harder", we were in their thoughts, to have faith that God will carry us through and to believe all will be okay.  My wonderful Aunt Anita asked me if it was okay to ask Grandpa Ray's sister, Sister Lucia if she and the other nuns and the priory could pray for us.  I said, I'd be happy to take all the prayers we could get.

I was/continue to be extremely thankful for all the love and support we've been given with this news.  And now it times of scare and complication, the love and support mean even more.  I've always been one to try and do things on my own, I'd rather be the one trying to help others, than the one being the recipient of all the help.  And yet, I've come to the realization that at this time in my life, its okay to ask for help.  I need it.  We need it.  Whether in the form of thoughts and prayers, being sent from all over the country, or the meals family and friends have dropped off for us, or the house work my mother and father-in-law have helped me with, or the watching of our kiddos from our neighbors, I'm overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support we've received.  I don't think I'll ever be able to repay everyone for everything they've done for us.  If there's a way to put it into words, I'm not sure I can appropriately express my gratitude, so I'll simply say thank you.

Thank you for easing my stress, for caring for my family better than I can care for them now, and for lifting us up in your loving arms.  I am so thankful.

Until next time,
Angie

Week 14 The secret is out…slowly.

Last week was a week filled with announcements.  On Easter morning we shared the news with our family after just sharing it the night before with the kids.

There was a common theme in the response we received from everyone we shared the news with… SHOCK.

Yep, pretty much the family and close friends we told were in awe and shock about how it had happened.  No, not how the pregnancy physically happened, but how after all these years, we were pregnant.  There was a lot of… “I don’t know what to say, I’m in complete shock”.  Thankfully, because I had too experienced this first hand, I recognized the immediate signs of shock, could relate instantly with how they were feeling and told them it was okay to not know what to say or how to react.  We had gone through the same thing several weeks before.  I told them, it takes a while for it all to sink in, take your time.

After the initial feelings of shock were expressed by I think every single person we told, the next usual response was happiness.   People were overall very thrilled and congratulatory, which honestly made my fears of telling others, much more calming.  Of course I got the “You’re going to have how many kids now?  And the “You’ll have to buy a bus.”  Comments, but that I guess it to be expected.  I am going to be the mother to four children.  And while I was one of four children in my family, I think our society has definitely evolved into “threes the max” acceptance state of mind.  Again, maybe this is just my sensitivity to being a future mother of four, but I definitely knew I was getting looks with having three kids in or near my grocery cart at the store, I can’t imagine the stares I’ll get with four.  Jarrett reminds me, “to each their own” and not to worry what others think.

Finally sharing the news was in a way, a huge relief.  I felt for so many weeks I had to hide the constant gaging, losing my lunch, breakfast and dinner, and the dead tired symptoms I had been feeling for so long and now that it’s out, I feel I can be somewhat myself again.  Still the constantly gaging, losing my meals and looking like a hot mess day after day is still very present, but at least people give me a bit of slack, or at least I feel like they do.  I think I was most nervous to share the news with my colleagues and boss.  I am thankful for my job and the ability to work part time.  I realize how lucky I am to have the flexibility and support I do in working a part time position.  I am very aware and thankful.  I was worried that sharing the news people may reconsider the need for my position and now that I was going to have to take some extra time off, I worried how the news would be accepted or if it would be.  Thankfully, my bosses boss, one of only a few other people in the office to even have children, had recently shared she was pregnant too.  While I was in the dark about the news, I shared my news with my boss, who immediately asked me if I had heard about my colleagues news?  I said, no and she said, “We have to bring her in.”  As my boss and my bosses boss were in my office, I shared my news and the room filled with shrieks.  My bosses boss was very excited for us and said how thankful she was pregnant with another person in the office.  I told her I felt the same way.  It turns out she is only 5 days ahead of me, so while the timing of our leave is during busy season (is there ever NOT a busy season), our leaves will occur almost simultaneously.  I was extremely thankful for her response and the supportive nature of their excitement for me.  I decided to share the news with the larger staff the following day at our monthly all staff meeting.  My co-worker announced first she was pregnant and then at the end of the meeting during our round table, I told the staff I must have been drinking out of the same water cooler as her, because I was expecting too.  It was the same response as everyone else… shock… followed by long pauses and finally cheers of happiness.

One other thing I’ll mention about telling the news is… I feel like I’m horrible at doing so. Several people still don’t know. This is all new to me and unlike adoption where everything happened literally overnight, I’m not sure about the protocol of how and when to share.  There are several people that I would love to share the news with but I’m not sure how or when to do it.  While I’m not walking around yet with a basketball on my front, it isn’t quite obvious actually that there is anything different about me.  So I feel awkward bringing up the topic out of the blue.  In some ways I feel it would be almost easier if I was showing and people would ask.  Instead I feel self-conscious about saying anything, so with several of my friends, I haven’t said a word.  And then that makes me think of the whole topic of infertility several of my friends and I share in common.  I remember how hard it was when we were trying to grow a family, to hear news of other people’s pregnancy when that is what I wanted more than anything else.  So I’m sensitive to those currently going through the struggle, to those who have grown their family in other ways, and to those who will always feel the piercing pain that infertility bears.  I feel self-conscious to share the news and so I’ve chosen to keep the news quiet for the most part.  It feels like a double edged sword, I know they would want to know, but I also know I don’t want to cause them any hurt feelings.  I just hope when they do find out, they will understand, our news was not meant to cause pain.  In some strange way, I hope it gives others hope, that anything is possible.

Finally having told my family and my sister who just gave birth a week ago, I’m so thankful I can finally talk with her about this process.  For several weeks, I wanted more than anything to ask her how she dealt with morning sickness and how she felt about this or that, but I kept my questions to myself.  My sister had gone through infertility too and I wanted her to be able to experience pregnancy and the celebration of her daughter’s life without me taking anything away from her moments of pure joy.  Therefore, I didn’t share the news with her or my other extended family.  I think at first she wondered why I didn’t tell her and felt bad, but I told her it was only because I wanted her to be the center of all the wonderful joy.  She didn’t need to share that with me or us.  Now that she knows, she’s been such a great source of support, information and advice.  She knows exactly what I’m talking about when I tell her nothing tastes good, that I feel sick no matter what I do, and that pregnancy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  At first I felt horrible complaining (I know it sounds hard to believe after reading these posts week after week) because for so many years of my life, that is all I ever wanted and now that I’ve gotten what I want, who am I to be complaining.  But the truth is, so far this has been VERY HARD.  Emotionally taxing, physically demanding (who likes to throw up several times a day) and mentally something I had written off ever occurring.  With all of the changes going on in my body, it has been nice to hear my sister say, “It’s okay to not enjoy every moment, hold onto the fact that it should get better.”   I told her I’m going to hold her to that promise.  The other thing I appreciate it being able to ask her all of those TMI questions I can’t ask anyone else.  Seriously, there is a lot of TMI stuff, I had no clue about.  No one tells you these things. 

Highlights of the week:

How far along are you? 14 weeks 5 days

How I’m feeling?  Relieved the news is getting out.

Total weight gain…  I have no idea.

How big is baby? I understand this week the baby is the size of my clenched fist.  Isn’t that an interesting comparison?  It’s always been fruits or vegetables in weeks prior.

Maternity clothes…  Nope but I have noticed that my stomach is definitely distended in the evenings in a way different than the bloat from the past several weeks.

Best moment this week… telling family and friends and being showed in love, of course after the shock wore off.

Movement… Nope

Food cravings… nothing

Food aversions… STILL EVERYTHING ELSE

Belly button in or out… In

What I miss… What I will miss… my sister MaeLyn’s wedding.  My due date falls 2 weeks before her wedding and the doctor told me there is absolutely no way she would encourage/support me traveling back home for the wedding.  I’m so bummed to be missing out on my sister and Aaron’s special day.  Jarrett and the kids are going to go back, but I can’t help but still feel emotional about not being able to be there in person. 

What I’m looking forward to…  putting the word out on the blog for it to finally be official.  Until I see it in writing, I’m still feeling like this could all be one long dream.

Here’s to another week down and my hope that feeling, dare I say “GOOD”, is on the horizon.  Please God, please God, let that be true.

Until next time,

Angie

Week 13…The secrets out, almost!

April 3, 2015

Today is Good Friday and we just got back from church.  So many things about Easter this year, hold extra special meaning.  I can’t help but find continuous reminders that being pregnant and carrying this baby, is nothing but God’s ultimate plan. If I’m being honest though, I’m so thankful for those reminders because they help me when I’m feeling worrisome and unsure.

Sometimes I have my doubts.  When I think about being a mother to four children, I admit, I often feel overwhelmed.  This morning gave me many moments of doubt.  I had to go to the post office to mail some letters, and unfortunately one of them required me to stand in the ever present, slow as ever, line that forms.  I told Isabelle not to touch anything and instructed the boys to stand right next to me and not to mess around.  Like most days, my words reach none of their ears, and as I stood in line with my pile of letters, Isabelle pulled greeting card after greeting card out of the shelves, while the boys messed around with the line stanchion holding the crowd of people in line.  As it always turns out, one of the boys, did something which sent the actual cloth liner attached to one pole and the cloth sling-shot back into the holder on the previous post.  In the whiplash of the cord, a woman almost got hit in the face.  I had to give the boys the look of “YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE.” And yell at them to get back in line, not to touch anything and to stand still.  Meanwhile I had to chase after Isabelle who had by this point pulled out 8 to 10 greeting cards.  I held her arm and put back the cards, while she whined, “Don’t tell me no.”  I got back in line, had to recorrect Michael yet again and prayed for the two people in front of me to get their business done asap.  It is in those moments, that I wonder, how I will do this for four children. 

Moments of doubt like this scare me.  I realize fully being a mother to four children is going to be NO easy task.  Actually, I feel like my life is going to quadruple in difficulty overnight.  I pray Gabriel will become even more of a helper than he already is and by the time this baby comes, he will almost be 10.   Jarrett jokes and tells me we can pull him in for the 3 and 4 am feedings as, "He's an early morning riser anyway."   My youngest sister was born when I was 10 and I would like to say I was a big help for my parents with her.  Gabriel already is a good helper with Isabelle, I hoping another 6 months of maturity will help me even more. 

The other main fear I have is being able to provide for four children.  This baby was and continues to be a HUGE surprise.  While some may think, Jarrett and I were being irresponsible in not taking actions to prevent a pregnancy, the honest truth is, there was NO reason for us to think a pregnancy could ever occur.  I’ve literally been told directly “I don’t believe there is any chance you can conceive on your own”  In the 10 plus years we’ve been married, we’ve never taken steps to prevent anything and its hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact, this time resulted in something different.  Four children means we will actually bust out the seams of our house.  We can’t put anything or anyone else in this house.  The thought of having to look for a different house, when we are still paying off the one we have is overwhelming.  Thankfully Jarrett is my calming force and is perfectly confident we will be okay. I tell myself, to have faith, trust and take one day at a time. 

As I think about week 13 coming to an end, I’m so ready to be able to share this news with the wider world.  This past week, the kids and I made Easter baskets to send to our extended families and inside the box is the news of our biggest secret.  We plan to Skye with everyone on Sunday morning so we can watch as they open their boxes.  I’m so interested to see their reactions, it should be interesting, as I don’t think any of them have any idea. 

A look inside the Easter baskets our families will be opening on Easter morning.

Each box contained a smaller bunny box with the message, "Some Bunny has BIG news..." 

 Inside the bunny box is an Easter egg with a message inside.  The message inside reads, "We're EGGspecting!  A little chickadee is on the way... Baby Haskovec hatching October 2015."  

The other big step we plan to take this weekend is that we plan to tell the kids.  So far Jarrett and I have kept the news from the kids.  Honestly, we feel like once they know, the entire world is going to know.  Have you ever known a kid to be able to keep a secret?  To tell the kids, I made each of them their own t-shirt.  

 Each shirt reads, "I'm going to be a... Big Brother (or Big Sister for Isabelle) and then the date of October 2015.

 Gabriel's shirt

Michael's shirt

 Isabelle's shirt.

I’m not sure if the boys will understand it and I’m sure Isabelle will be confused.  I hope they find the news exciting and welcoming.  Lately we’ve had many conversations about my sister Megan and her pregnancy, (she’s actually at the hospital right now being induced) and the boys keep inquiring about how much it is going to hurt to have the baby come out.  Their questions actually kind of freak me out, so I try to play ignorant and pretend that isn’t going to happen to me. J  The other one I wonder about how the news will be accepted is with Isabelle.  Yesterday we were at Target and I’m trying to introduce myself to the idea again that I will be having to buy diapers.  I strolled through the diaper aisle and mentally took note of the crazy price of diapers.  Isabelle, seeing the pictures of the babies on the boxes said, “Mommy, I am a big girl, I don’t wear diapers like the babies do.”  I said, “That’s right Isabelle. You are a big girl. How would you feel about having a little baby join our family?”  Immediately she shouted, “NO, I DON’T WANT A BABY!”  Guess she was pretty clear about that topic.  I immediately dropped the subject.

In other news, I’m still facing, dealing with continuous nausea and sickness.  Our insurance company has a pregnancy plan that requires me to have a nurse from their pregnancy program, call me to check on how things are going.  I’ve been honest with them about how I’ve felt his far with the pregnancy and this week they called me to tell me my doctor has authorized a Zofran IV pump to be hooked up to me intravenously via my stomach for as long as I need.  I’ve read many contradicting articles about Zofran and the fact that they believe my nausea is bad enough to want to hook me up to an IV, honestly scared me.  I thought, how am I going to continue to be able to hide this news, as I have an IV pump hooked up to my stomach with the bag of medication taped around my thigh.  I thought about it for about a half of a second and politely declined their recommendation.  My doctor and I had talked the previous day and she told me I could increase the amount of medication I am already taking (the precursor to Zofran) to see if that would help.  I guess I’ve lost enough weight they were concerned.

Speaking of losing weight, I could hardly believe I had lost weight at my last appointment.  Sadly, I feel huge, bloated all of the time and my stomach already sticks out.  While I’m still able to wear my normal pants, I find myself being very selective about the shirts I wear… it seriously looks like I sat down and ate the entire Easter candy bowl myself.  I wish I could say it looks cute.  It doesn’t.  Instead, I look and feel like I have been at the Golden Corral buffet for 12 hours straight. You know that completely uncomfortable feeling when you’ve eaten too much and you can’t get comfortable? Yep, that’s how I feel all the time.  I feel like I’ve stuff myself with way too much food, almost every hour of the day, and that doesn’t matter if I’ve had anything to eat all day or if I’ve had just a small bowl of cereal.  Sadly, I feel like I can’t win.  I feel sick when I don’t eat, and I feel sick when I eat, especially after I eat.  I’m not sure what the trick is.  Some days, I feel super hungry and eat a lot.  Then I get heartburn.  I am not even very pregnant yet.  Don’t I sound like a whiny, complaining crab?  Yep, I’m pretty much sick of myself too.

While I moan and complain, I really do feel like a miracle is growing inside of me.  And seeing last week's ultrasound pictures really did make it real for me, how awesome this whole thing is.  When I'm growing tired of feeling terrible and seem like my doubts seep in, I go to my planner and pull out the secret stash of pictures I have.... looking at that tiny body growing inside me, reminds me, it is all worth it.

I mean, how can this little alien looking thing not melt your heart?!?!?!?  I joke, I think this tiny baby is the cutest thing ever...

I think its time to wrap up the highlights from this week.  Here is a quick rundown of the weekly questions…

How far along are you? 13 weeks  6 days.

How I’m feeling?  GREAT, JOYFUL… ready to let the rest of the world in our secret.

Total weight gain…  Maybe up a couple of pounds… feel like I’ve gained 20 at least.

How big is baby?  The size of a Georgia Peach!

Maternity clothes…  Nope.  But I did buy my first pregnancy related item… a belly band at Target.  I hope this will consist of the majority of my maternity purchases.  I hope I can use that thing to fix every wardrobe challenge.

Best moment this week… Looking forward to seeing our children and families reaction as we share the news with them.

Movement… nope but I do feel like I see my stomach growing larger by the day.

Food cravings… Tootsie Rolls.  I love them around 9 in the morning. 

Food aversions… EVERYTHING ELSE

Belly button in or out… In

What I miss… running.  I see runners on the street and I wish I could be out there with them.  I haven’t exercised in 7 weeks and I feel not only like a big glop of goo but I think it would give me some positive endorphin's that would be good for my attitude.  I hope I start feeling well enough soon, so I can go out and at least do something.

Until next time,

Angie

A Perfectly Simple and Absolutely Gorgeous Wedding!

Last weekend I was lucky enough to take a trip back to Iowa (solo) for my brother's wedding.  Before I go into the details of their wonderful wedding, this vacation made me realize that every parent should be entitled to a solo vacation away at least once every few years.  It was so glorious to have a break and to not have to worry about anyone other than myself (actually if I'm being honest, I worried about the baby and traveling-but that's just me- I'm a worrier).  

Back to the details of the reason for my trip.  

Last Friday night, (5/15/15) my brother married a wonderful woman who I'm so happy to be able to call my newest sister.  Kacee is a wonderful addition to our families and is a perfect match for my brother. The calming sense when he's stressed and the perfect companion to share life's joys and challenges.  

Jonas and Kacee desired a very simple wedding, a ceremony attended by family at the home Kacee grew up in, followed by dinner at one of our long time family favorite restaurants.  On Friday afternoon when we showed up for the ceremony it was obvious, their wedding had all the special touches and fit their desires perfectly.

Here are a few pictures from their perfectly simple and absolutely gorgeous ceremony.  

My siblings:  (from left to right), Me, Jonas, Megan and MaeLyn.  While I'm the oldest, I'm also the shortest... not sure how that worked out.

 A family shot with Mom and Dad added in.  

THE HAPPY COUPLE

 I love this picture of them!

  Kacee and Jonas with my parents

Kacee and Jonas with both sets of parents

 Jonas, Kacee and Grandpa Ray.  

Jonas and Kacee asked my grandfather and her grandmother to be the witnesses for their wedding.  I thought it was such a nice touch and I know Grandpa considered it to be an honor.

Mom and Dad's only son getting married!  What a special day!

 A quick family shot. 

And one with almost everyone there.  Jarrett and the kids would have loved to have come but definitely had them in their thoughts on their special day!  My sister Megan and Adam with their new beautiful daughter Willa and their other lovely (hopefully we can show his picture someday in the near future too).  

THE CEREMONY

 Jonas and Kacee wrote their own vows which was very nice.

 After exchanging the rings...

 and saying their vows...

 It was time to kiss the bride!

 This picture needs no caption... it was clear, their love was apparent for all of us to feel.

Congratulations to the new Mr. and Mrs!

Thanks for letting me be a part of your special day Kacee and Jonas.  We wish you guys a lifetime of happiness.  That the bumps in the road are small and few and that the joyous times are bountiful and plenty.  Love to you both always.

Until next time,

Angie

Week 12.... a healthy scan and hearing the heartbeat!

Last week, I was officially 12 weeks pregnant.  I know I say this every week, but I still can't believe it is happening.  If I'm being honest, I think there were several weeks in the early part of this pregnancy that I didn't want to let myself believe it.  I was too afraid it would be just that... a dream.  I reminded myself, to try to think positively, to believe it was actually happening, but my leary heart would start to take over, and my realistic gene would kick in, giving me pause to caution.

There seems to me at least, to be some confusion about when this whole first trimester ends and when the second starts to begin.  I read in the books that it isn't until the end of week 13, but last week, I sat on the exam table in the doctors office as she congratulated me on making it to the second trimester.  I willingly admit, I am as novice as novice as you can be when it comes to pregnancy.  The truth is, mostly what I know is third party information, I overheard from when others I knew were pregnant.  Having never ever conceived well, anything before, I partially didn't pay attention because it hurt too much but also because back then, I selfishly wanted to learn everything I could when it was "my turn."  Oh how I wish I would have paid more attention and asked questions.  I mostly feel like I'm steering this boat with no sail or direction.  Thankfully books and the internet are great resources.

As my appointment with the doctor approached, I started to become even more nervous.  I hadn't been to see them for almost 4 weeks and I worried something was wrong.  I had been sick with what I thought was a terrible cold (turned out to be sinus infection) for several weeks, and while I tried to not take any medication, last Monday, I couldn't take it anymore and decided to see a doctor.  After learning I had sinus infection and would have to take antibiotics, I feared, my sickness could have hurt the baby.  One drawback to the vast land of endless information you can find on the internet is that everything and anything you do can hurt the baby.  I learned though, my sickness wasn't going to get better without medication and with my doctors approval I started the prescription. Three days later, I sat in the doctors office and prayed everything would be okay.

This appointment not only brought with it and update from the doctor about how things are going but additional tests.... prenatal screening. Jarrett and I had talked about it the night before as we both have been praying for a healthy baby.  I arrived about 15 minutes early and just as I sat in the lobby, the ultrasound technician called me back.  Turns out their other technician went home sick with the flu so she called us back early to get started on what would be her busy afternoon.  Being unsure of what to expect I awkwardly went into the room and stood unsure what to do next.  She motioned for me to sit on the table and I for a minute thought, wait, what type of ultrasound are we going to do?  She must have read my mind because she said, now that you are 12 weeks we can do the ultrasound on your stomach.  I thanked her in my mind for answering the question I never verbally asked.

I laid on the table and pulled my shirt up.  Jarrett sat in the chair to my left and behind my head.  We both looked up at the table and within seconds of her putting the applicator on my stomach, the baby appeared.  I was shocked at how big he/she/it was, especially compared to the pictures I had a few weeks earlier.  The technician was wonderful as she asked us what number baby this was for us.  Jarrett answered our first and I felt obliged to tell her our story.  She was sincerely overjoyed for us and said, in the 20 plus years of being in this line of work, it is stories like ours that make her love her job every single day.  She then went on to say, "This baby is a miracle baby, and must be part of a bigger plan."  While she didn't come straight out and say it, I knew exactly what she meant.  It was then I noticed the cross necklace around her neck and said, "We firmly believe that.  This was God's plan."

She continued on with the ultrasound telling us everything looked great and that the baby was measuring one day ahead.  She then went on to tell us she needed to measure the back of the baby's head.  The baby was not cooperating.  When she first started the ultrasound we could clearly see the baby move, but quickly it was clear the baby had gone to sleep.  She kept moving the wand around trying to get the baby to move, he/she was not interested.  After having me turn on my one side and then the other with no such luck, she brought me in an apple juice box.  Let me tell you, that was the best tasting apple juice I've ever had. It was cold and tasted so yummy!  Why I haven't tried drinking apple juice in the last 12 weeks, I do not know why.  Oh was it so good.

Within a minute of me drinking the juice, she had me lay back and said "watch this."  Boy was she right.  Right away, the baby started moving.  First was the arm fist pumps and then the baby started doing high leg kicks.  It was so funny and so so amazing all at the same time.  The kind women would tap her button to take pictures with every major movement all while telling us, everything looked great.  It was so reassuring.  Jarrett got teary eyed, and I took in every second.  Still telling myself, this is really happening.

And then she said, "look at baby's  strong heartbeat... do you want to hear it?" We smiled and before we could say yes, the loud, strong, continuous sound of the baby's heart was coming out of the machine near my head.  I asked, "Is that my heartbeat?"  "No she said, that's your little baby's."  IT. WAS. AMAZING.  Like nothing else I've ever experienced in my whole life.

In a second, the images of my precious miracle was in front of me, and now I could hear with my own ears, the sound of his life giving heart beating strongly, healthily and oh so perfectly.  What a moment.  In that second, it all became real.  Finally.

I secretly didn't want the ultrasound to end.  I think I could have started at the baby all day.  The technician showed us where the baby's cute nose is, how the fingers were all stretch out and she gave us her best educated guess as to if we are having a girl or boy. She printed out pictures for us to keep and gave them to me to hold.  What a great take home gift!

She then led us to the next exam room, where the nurse was waiting to take my blood.  She pricked me with the tiniest of needles, collected a small amount of blood, and then she was gone.  Dr. B arrived, went through the normal questions, asked me how my nausea was and told me to increase the dosage.  She said you've lost a few pounds so we want to make sure you are able to keep liquids and food down.  I told her I would be happy to take an extra dose if it would help keep the throwing up and dry heaving at bay or at least to a minimum.  She then said they would get the blood test back in a couple of weeks and call me with the results.  We continue to pray the baby is healthy.

Less than 15 minutes later we were leaving our 12 week appointment with beautiful pictures and reassurance that all was going well.

This past Sunday in church, we celebrated Palm Sunday and I couldn't help but ponder the perfect timing of the message.  The title of the sermon was "The Greater Plan" and Pastor Troy spoke eloquently about how God's has the ultimate plan for our lives.
He said,

"Sometimes God messes with us.  He has a plan for things to happen that isn't in our plan.  While this can sometimes cause us to question, the truth is, he wants us to trust and obey.  For when we finally let go of needing to have control of our lives, and having to find a reason for everything, it is then that we can truly see HIS plan.  So worry less about what we can or can't explain, be okay with not being in control and become satisfied, become thankful, become faithful in the trust that he is and knows THE GREATER PLAN."  

Baby H giving us a thumbs up, as if to say, "Hi Mom and Dad!  I can't wait to meet you!"

I can't help but believe that this baby is God's greater plan.  For almost my entire adult life, Jarrett and I wanted nothing more than to get pregnant and have a baby.  And then our boys and Isabelle came into our lives and we felt our family was complete.  This past fall we passed along the remaining baby stuff we had left, onto my sister as she begins growing her family.   I closed that chapter of our lives, giving thanks for having the baby experience with Isabelle and finally accepted what I thought to be reality, that giving birth wasn't in my plan.    It truly does feel God's hand is actively at work in our lives. 

So thankful, so blessed and so hopeful for what the future brings.

Until next time,

Angie

Week 11 Optimistically optimistic with my worries in my back pocket

Week 11

3/23/2015

Last week was week 11 and the truth was, I couldn’t keep straight what week it was.  One moment I thought it was still week 10 and the next I was convinced I was half way through week 12.  I think deep inside, I’m sooooo sooooo soooo ready for the first trimester to be over, I was secretly hoping being half way through week 12 would make me just that much closer to being able to feel like we’d made it over a huge hurdle. 

Also, I had read somewhere that by week 12, the morning sickness starts to subside.  Of the countless books, websites, and apps I’ve consumed in the last few weeks, reading that tip was the best news ever.  I don’t care if after that statement, there were 10 disclaimers following it, saying morning sickness can still last longer and some women have it their entire pregnancy… reading that one glimmer of hope, was enough, to give me hope.  And I took that glimmer of hope and turned it into a Goodyear Blimp of hope, a fact statement that by Pete’s sake, I am going to be that woman who starts feeling better by week 12 or at least 13.  I’m going to.  As an old co-worker use to say… Will it and it will happen.  I’ve willed the heck out of that statement.  I will feel better. 

The reality was, week 11 didn’t feel that much different than every week before.  I still feel sick to my stomach every minute of every day and night.  This week brought a new adventure… feeling so weak and sick in the shower I had no choice but to collapse on the floor of the shower, while I tossed my cookies (or lack there of), down the shower drain.  Sorry TMI.  Isabelle just happened to be in the bathroom at the same time and came running, “Mommy, no feel good?”  It’s become one of the staples in her vocabulary.   Precious little girl, when she finds me on the couch at 5 in the morning, she comes right up to me, rubs my chest and says, “Mommy, no feel good?”  She has a natural caring instinct too. Yesterday, during one of the many couch sessions I seem to have on a daily basis, she must have thought I was cold.  She got up from what she was doing and disappeared into her room.  She returned a few minutes later with her favorite blanket.  She did her best to spread her blanket over me and said, “Mommy feel better.”  Yes, my heart melted. 

In other health news, the cold my dad and grandpa were sporting when they were here, hit me and hit me hard.  In fact, its been over a week and a half now and I’m still feeling it as strong as ever.  On Friday I called my OB’s office and asked them if I thought I should go to the doctor.  They called me back and listed off the limited medications I can take and told me if it was still bad on Monday to call them back.  The main thing I’m worried about it hurting the baby.  I’ve done my best to avoid taking any medication (other than my lovely nauseous pills- those things are a must) and I don’t want to do anything that can hurt the miracle growing inside of me.  So I sleep sitting up, I carry a box of Kleenex around with me and I sound like I’m coughing up a lung.  My dad, who at this point doesn’t know, keeps telling/forcing me to take medications completely banned.  I keep making excuses and tell him I am doing okay.  Between you and me, I’m pretty sure this is sinus infection, bronchitis or something needing an antibiotics …. The pain when water hits my sinuses as I wash my face in the shower each morning, the burning in my chest from coughing, the wheezing when I breathe, the plugged ears.  Maybe I’ll call back today.

In other news,  in the past week, I’ve also had several light bulb moments.  One afternoon in talking with my sister, MaeLyn, one of the only few who know (I had to tell her because I can’t be at her wedding), I was going on and on about how terrible I feel, how emotional I am that I can be at her wedding and how I’m still struggling with the fact that this is really happening.  My sister has been very patient and completely understanding with me, I think I had hit her limit.  She said, “Angie, I want you to be over the top happy about this.  Do you realize you have a miracle happening inside you and this is something you’ve wanted for your entire life.  Now you are getting it and you sound miserable.  I don’t feel bad you can’t be at my wedding.  Of course I’m sad you can’t be there, but this news is SO much more exciting and just think, you have life inside of you.   Do you not realize just how amazing that is?”   Like getting hit with a sledge hammer across the side of my face…. She’s right.  She’s totally right.  Sadly, I think I needed her to set me straight and to reframe my perspective. 

I know it’s hard to believe I did reset, especially after I spent the first 5 paragraphs of this blog post ranting (again) about how horrible I feel.  The truth is, I did need an attitude adjustment.  I do.  While I feel horrible… I honestly use that feeling as a reassurance that everything must be okay.  If I didn’t feel sick, would that mean something is wrong?  The truth is, MaeLyn is right.  There is no greater wish that I’ve had since a very little girl, than becoming a mom.  I know already I’m a mom three times over, but there is something pretty darn amazing that this time, I get to give life.  That is something I’ve never been blessed to do.  Is this baby coming at my time… No.  Lord knows, I’ve prayed about being pregnant since I was 23 years old.  Now almost 35, my wish is finally coming true.  The saying is, “All things in HIS time.”  Does it make me feel sad to miss my sister’s wedding, yes absolutely but in a strange way, do I feel like this news is the clear sign God has been there with us from day one, that answer is yes.   I have had many many thoughts of processing why this is happening now.  While I might be completely wrong, I can’t help but think God’s plan involved us becoming parents to Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle first for a reason.  I wonder if in the big master plan, Jarrett and I were put here to be their parents.  I’ve been known to question my parenting abilities, especially with our mischievous Michael who keeps me constantly searching for the next big parenting secret, but deep down, I truly feel, we were made to be their parents.  I wonder if this baby came around earlier in our marriage, if our family make up would be the same.  And that gives me 100% assurance, God’s plan is the ultimate one.  I can’t imagine my life now without the three blessings we call our children, and now I’m technically with our fourth.  As scary as 4 children sounds to me, I find reassurance in knowing God must have the faith in us to be able to handle it.  And if he has the faith, then I better too.

The other thing this week that made me re-frame this overwhelming nauseous experience, is starting to see the visible changes in my body.  This week brought a change in my stomach, that tells me things must be happening.  I still like to believe I’m hiding this news from the rest of the world, but when I’m standing in my bathroom, I can see a change.  My stomach protrudes in a way that it hasn’t before.  While I know most of it is bloat, actually probably all of it is, there is something about not being able to hold it in anymore that makes me see full well, this is really happening.  They say that at the end of week 11, beginning of week 12, the uterus moves up above the pelvic bone thus causing one’s stomach to protrude in a different way.  This is exciting.  I’m not sure how other pregnant women would describe it but to me it feels like I have overeaten at every meal I’ve been at for the last 12 weeks and there’s no chance of sucking it in.  For those who have ever overeaten know the feeling of that great bloat isn’t the best but I’m learning to get use to it.  I figure I better… right?

Finally, the other light bulb moment for me this weekend, was attending the baby shower of a friend who is having their first child.  It was a lovely baby shower and I’m so excited for my friend.  She will be a wonderful mother.  As I sat in attendance at the shower, in what seemed like surrounded by other women who were pregnant or carrying their young infants, I was reminded that, while it was a secret, I am finally, finally a part of their group.  Never before in my entire life, have I been a part of the amazing group of women who have carried life in their loins, have given the gift of life, who have suffered for hours over the porcelain thrown.  While no one at the shower knows of my secret, for the first time in my entire life, I felt accepted.  I know it’s a silly thing… it isn’t like women in the past have excluded me from their group…saying you can’t come in.. you can’t get pregnant.  But it was always something I put on myself, a limit I placed upon shoulders…. Something I always felt like was “wrong” with me because my body wouldn't work in the way a woman was made to work… to create life.  I share these words so carefully because I think they are completely irrational.  For any adoptive mother who has provided life, I feel wholly, with my entire being, that they are just as much a mother as anyone else.  But yet, when I looked at myself, I couldn't help but feel shame that something with me was wrong.  These feelings were commonly felt by me I can honestly say until the last year.  In the last year, as we packed up all of our baby stuff and passed it along to my sister, I became completely comfortable with the reality, that I would never experience pregnancy.  It was then that I felt, I finally let those crippling limits I had placed on myself go.  I feel sad to admit that’s how I viewed myself, but it is something I believe it part of the grieving process when it comes to infertility.  Finally, being pregnant for once, makes me feel for the first time in my life, my body has not rejected what my heart wishes.

And that seems to be where I keep going back to.  You’d think after being pregnant for 11.5 weeks, (now 12 weeks), I would have come to the realization that it is actually happening.  Yet, I still find myself questioning if it is all a big dream.  I haven’t been to the doctor for the past three weeks, I go to this week, and in that time, I almost feel like I’m been holding my breath.  I pray that everything with this baby is perfect and I pray for the day when I birth this child into the world and stare into his or her eyes.  While I pray for that so much, I still feel like it has to be a dream.  For so long, for so so long, having a baby was all I could think about.  I wanted nothing more than to get pregnant and it took me years to accept the fact it wasn't my story, it wasn't the life I was put here to lead.  And now I’m learned that it wasn't my story at the time…. It was in my life I was created for, but just at a different time.  And so, I’m optimistically optimistic while still carrying my worries in the back of my pocket.  A few days ago, the fear of it all being a dream became too much for me, so I decided to take yet another pregnancy test.  This is test 7.  As the test was processing, a fear came over me, what if it reads negative?  Why I can’t convince myself this is reality is so strange and yet, I’m living it so I know how it feels.  The results popped up “pregnant” and for a while I was happily living in my beautiful dream.  I wonder if other moms who suffered infertility experience the same things?  I remain optimistically optimistic with my worries in my back pocket.

Because I’ve gone on long enough, I’ll wrap up by giving the week’s highlights….

How far along are you? 11 weeks (though if I’m being honest, as I type this, I’m 12 weeks, 2 days)

How I’m feeling?  Hopeful… remember my Goodyear Blimp of hope.  I am looking at the horizon of the next trimester.

Total weight gain…  I weigh somewhere around 120 (so I think about where I started… maybe a few pounds up)

How big is baby? The size of a lime (By the way, I actually bought one at the store this week as a way for me to visual exactly what a lime on the inside of my stomach would look like.  It actually turned into a funny story… because I guess no one buys just 1 lime.  The grocery bagger-man (hows that for a technical term) forgot to put my lime in the bag so as I’m driving out of the grocery store parking lot, I see the clerk racing down the row of cars to chase me down… “Ma’am you forgot your lime!”  At least it wasn’t tampons or huge pads right?) 

Maternity clothes…  Nope.  But I did stroll down the isle of a maternity clothes at Buy Buy Baby, while buying a shower gift for my friend.  Who in the world spends $42.00 on a tank top.  Seriously I’ll buy a regular $12.00 one extra big and find a way to make it work.  Oh my gosh, what a rip off!

Best moment this week… Getting my attitude readjusted… I needed that.

Movement… Nothing yet, but I can’t wait to see the movement next week at the ultrasound. 

Food cravings… The only thing that tastes good seems to be cottage cheese… I seriously bought 5 tubs of cottage cheese at the grocery store last week.

Food aversions… EVERYTHING ELSE

Belly button in or out… In

What I miss… Jimmy John’s Subs… no eating cold meat… can give the baby listeria.  Seriously there are very well attended discussion groups on the boards I follow, about women having their favorite sub sandwich delivered to their room at the hospital immediately following the birth of their child, as they had to wait 9 months to eat a cold sub.  I’m not sure if I’m there yet but I at least miss the ability to eat one.  Whom I’m kidding anyway, it would probably taste horrible at this point anyway.  Nevermind.

What I’m looking forward to… Getting good news next week at the 12 weeks appointment and to reaching the end of the first trimester. I feel like it will give me more peace that everything is going to be okay… we pray for good results on the genetic testing.

Until next week,

Angie 

Mother's to love...

I've been very fortunate in my life to have a wonderful mother and other amazing motherly women to love and look up to.  As we celebrate Mother's Day today, I wanted to take the time to thank my Mom and the other motherly figures in my life who serve as excellent role models, sources of inspiration and women who I strive to be more like every day.

My mother-in-law Sharon, aka Nana:

I've known Sharon for over half of my life and I think it would be fair to say she watched me grow from a young teenager to an adult and now a mother.  I remember when Jarrett and I first started dating how welcoming and accepting she was of me, her middle son's girlfriend.  I have so many fond memories of growing up spending time with Sharon.  From the Iowa State Wrestling tournaments, when they took me along so I could help cheer on Jarrett, to the trips to the fabric store to help pick out the next plaid pattern to appear in one of her wonderful quilts.  The first time Jarrett traveled abroad, gave Sharon and I the perfect opportunity to bond and connect even more.  We spent a lot of time together that summer, even though Jarrett was gone.  We bonded over Days of Our Lives and when she agreed to help me make a t-shirt quilt for my high school graduation, I think we both were excited to have an activity to work on together.  

She has taught me many things in the 20 plus years of spending time together.  From teaching me how to quilt, to sharing her famous seafood pasta recipe and even expert advice on how to raise boys.  I love many things about Sharon, and while I don't know if I've ever come out and told her, one of the things I love the most, is all the hard work, love and dedication she had to put in to help the man of my dreams become the partner and father he is today.  

 While I feel oh so fortunate to have her in my life, I feel even more thankful that she is in the lives of my children.  Nana is a wonderful addition to Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle's lives.  She is a constant source of support, love and guidance.

The kids light up when they see Nana or hear she's coming over.  Of the many things she has taught them, I'm thankful for her support to Jarrett and I as their parents, in reminding them the importance of obeying and honoring their mother and father.

Having Nana and Papa live close to us the past couple of months has truly been a great gift.  We've been fortunate enough to see them a couple times a week and the connections the kids have with them have grown significantly deeper.  

Nana, we love you very much and we thank you for all you've done and continue to do in sharing your love, wisdom and support.

Jarrett's grandma, Great Grandma Doris

While we don't get to see Great Grandma Dorie as often as we'd like, we have come to really cherish and look forward to the times when we get to see her.  Grandma Dorie has many wonderful qualities, and if I were to pick out two of my favorites, it would be these...

Grandma Dorie continues to show us that life is fun at any age, and age is simply a number.  Grandma Dorie lives in a small town in NE Iowa and yet she is known for her caring and fun spirit for miles and miles around.  In fact, because she is so much fun, there are several people I know who have self-selected to consider her part of their family, also calling her Aunt Dorie or Grandma Dorie. Her positivity and love of life at every age, shows me  no matter what happens, there is always something to be happy about and to give thanks for.

Grandma Doris shares of herself with us as she sends cards and mentions how she keeps us in her prayers.  The boys immediately connected with her because on our first trip back to Iowa, she showed them her "farm" and on her farm she had  many frogs.  Michael and Gabriel were in Heaven collecting frogs, putting them in a jar, finding food for them and asking a million questions about where they came from.  Grandma Dorie and the boys named one of the large bull frogs they found Freddie and returned him to the wild near Grandma's pond.  To this day, the boys still ask about Freddie and look forward to visiting with her at her house on each trip back to Iowa. 

We love you Grandma Dorie and look forward to seeing you again, hopefully soon!

Jarrett's Grandma, Great Grandma Hazel:

This past summer we said goodbye to Grandma Hazel as she went to be with her Lord.  While we were sad to say goodbye, I can't help but give thanks for being able to have the times I did with her here on Earth.

One of my first memories of Grandma Hazel is from when I was 15 years old and had gone over to Jarrett's house to visit him.  When I arrived, I learned his Grandma was staying with them as she had been in an accident in Decorah and was recovering at their house.  When I walked up the stairs to their living room, I remember seeing her in the chair resting and while I tried to be quiet, she immediately noticed I was there and focused all her attention on me.  While she has been bumped and bruised pretty badly in the accident she wanted no attention on her and instead treated me like I was the most important person to have walked into her life.  I quickly learned that was just how Grandma Hazel was.

In every moment I got to spend with her, she always put 110% into wondering how I was, or Jarrett and the kids.  One trip back to Iowa, I went by myself for a quick weekend, but wanted to make sure I stopped in to see her.  I didn't call ahead but just stopped by hoping to catch up.  When I knocked on her door and she opened it, she was surprised to see me, but welcomed me in, of course fed me a wonderful breakfast (she insisted) and we talked for hours.  I always loved visiting with her as she could carry on a conversation and make you feel so loved.

Of the many qualities Grandma Hazel taught me, her selflessness and unwavering faith were truly remarkable.   Grandma Hazel always made sure others had what they needed or wanted before herself. Whether it was in talking about food for a meal, or making someone feel comfortable in a new place.

And her faith.  Grandma Hazel faced many challenges and losses in her life, and no matter what happened, her commitment to the Lord was unwavering.  Even toward the end, when she knew her days on Earth were coming to an end, Sharon shared with us, how at peace she was to be going home to her Lord.  I pray that when my final days here on Earth are approaching, I embrace them with the same amount of faith and commitment as she did.   She was a wonderful lady to her core, was loved as much as she loved us and is deeply missed.

My Grandma, Grandma Virginia:

If there is one woman who I wish my children would have gotten to meet, it would have been my Grandma Virginia.    She was the most wonderful and loving Grandmother anyone could have asked for and I know she would have loved Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle with her whole heart.  

I was lucky enough to have gotten to spent a lot of time with her growing up.  She was and still to this day is the model of a grandmother I hope to be some day.  My grandmother was there for me in every step of my life.  She watched me as a baby, would greet me after school, making me my favorite foods and went above and beyond to spoil me in her love and devotion my entire life.

My grandma always confessed her love to me and her family openly, showing us through the special things she would make that she knew were our favorites, through her written word and by making sure she found the perfect gifts that she knew we would love.

My grandma was an excellent writer, sharing her daily thoughts and feelings through written word.  When I was in college, she would write me frequently sharing news about what she and Grandpa were doing, how the weather was, and what their dog Lucky was into next.  I come to love getting the mail because I knew more days than not, she's have dropped me a line, found a Family Circle comic strip she thought I'd like and sent her love saying she was thinking of me.  I can honestly say, her letters helped me get through college.  

Just like this picture, where she wrote in the corner, "with love Grandma Virginia"  I never felt love like the love I felt from her.

And then she learned how to write emails.  She's send me an email almost everyday and I knew how long it would take her to write me  a couple of lines, and yet she didn't care if it took her an hour, she loved getting emails and sending notes back.  When she passed away, I was afraid I'd lose the history we had recorded in those emails, so I printed out every note she sent me.  As the paper pulled through the printer, it became clear over the course of our email exchanges, she had written me a book.  To this day, I store her emails in our safe.  To me they are more precious than the money that could be taking its place.

Of the many many qualities I loved about my grandma, one of the best things about her was her ability to make everyone feel special. My grandma's favorite holiday was Christmas and that was her time when her skills at making one feel special were exceptionally demonstrated.  My grandma made Christmas special like no other.  She decorated her house beautifully, made a meal that kings would have loved and made sure every one's Christmas was complete with not one or two gifts, but several that obviously were picked out with special loving care.   I'm actually not sure how she ever did it, she must have started planning in January for the following December.

The love she showed us through the personal touches she provided, made me grow to love Christmas, not because she showed us with gifts, but because she showered us with her love.  I think in fact it is one of the reasons why Christmas is so special to me and why I want to share the love of the holiday with my children.

I've talked about this memory before but on our last Christmas we had together, my grandmother gave me a baby doll and said, "I thought you'd like this as I hope one day soon you will have a baby to share it with."  Her words spoke right to my heart and while the journey to become a mother was challenging for me, I know she would be so happy for me in getting to be a mother to Gabriel, Michael, Isabelle and now the baby growing inside of me. 

I miss my grandma Virginia every single day and there are so many times I want to call her up and talk with her as we did so many days in the past.  My grandma taught me to love in ways, I never knew one could love, and I will always be so grateful for the times we shared together.

My Grandma, Grandma Luella

While I never met my Grandma Luella, I can only imagine how amazing of a mother she was.  She gave birth to 16 children, 11 girls and 4 boys.  That feat alone, should put her in the book of super moms- NO JOKE!  Sadly my grandma Luella lost her life at a young age, leaving her husband and children behind.  And while she was only in their lives for a short amount of time, the impact and legacy she left is one for the story books.  I have heard countless stories about her baking abilities.  The stories of how she'd spend an entire day baking breads, cinnamon rolls, and apple kuchen for her large family and after spending all that time, her family would devour her creations in less than a few days.  

My mom tells stories about how her mom was a soft and squishy woman who loved to cuddle, play with and wrap her arms around her kids.  My mom didn't get to spend many years with her mom, but  the impact she made on her was life-lasting.  My mother learned her hard work ethic from her mom, as well as the trait to always put others in front of her own needs.  I wonder what it would have been like to meet my grandma Luella, but sometimes I think I see glimpses of what she must have been like... in my mother's eyes.

My Mom, Grandma Darlene

Everyone often thinks they have the best mom and I would be no exception to this rule.  I cannot think of any other woman who is as selfless, hardworking and dedicated to doing all that she can to love and support my dad and our family.

My mom taught me from an early age the value of hard work.  While some people just talk the talk and don't walk the walk, my mother does both. The hours my mom puts in on projects to help her and my dad's businesses thrive is awe-inspiring.  And not only is it the important lesson of hard work but also the lesson that commitment and dedication does not go unrewarded.

As someone who does career advising for my job, I've often thought about the many job titles my mom could put on her resume.  I fear the titles are endless, not because she changes jobs regularly, but because she manages multiple jobs like a professional juggler manages tossing balls in the air.  From Professional Mom of Four, to House Manager at her dream of owning and building a bed-n-breakfast, to CFO for my parents warehousing and trucking business, to master painter/remodel expert with their rental company business, to church secretary and the list could go on and on.  Seriously I get tired just trying to think of the many jobs she holds.

And that's not to mention what I think to be her favorite job these days... Grandma.  The connection my mom has instantly with children, especially with her grandchildren is what I can only describe as magic.  You know those people who are just able to connect with young people, who they instantly trust and love within seconds of meeting?  My mom is one of those people.

Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle LOVE my mom and consider her one of their favorite people.  No matter what the age, she is able to connect with the kids, giving them attention in a way that I think makes them feel important and cared for.  Isabelle often grabs my phone, pretends to start texting and says, "I send Grandma a message. I love Grandma!"-as if she has to clarify each time why she's pretend texting on my phone.

And the boys think Grandma is the best ever.  They love going to Iowa to stay at Grandma's house not only because Grandma has a lot of "toys" the boys can play with but because Grandma makes yummy food.  From her cinnamon rolls, to her tasty roasts, turkey and desserts (yet another talent she got from her mom), my boys, who love to eat, have never been unsatisfied with the tasty food Grandma makes for them.  Not to mention, grandma is fun!  She's the master at fun games like, "Rotten Egg" and takes the time to play.  Last Christmas when we went back to Iowa, it was the boys and Grandma first outside to start playing in the snow.

I love millions of things about my mom.  As a mother now, I stand in awe at how she did it all.  I struggle most days to feel like I'm doing a decent job raising the three wonderful kids I have, and then I think back to my childhood and wonder, "How did my mom make it all look so easy?"  

My mom is a master at doing it all, while still making sure she was the present mom, there to support us individually, standing in the bleachers at a freezing cold track meet cheering me on, or pushing me to challenge myself and take on the next goal.  I stand in awe with just how she did it and continues to do it.

As I look at our family picture below, I can't help but realize that our wonderful family wouldn't be as blessed as we are today if it wasn't for my mom.  The one who always sacrificed for herself, to give and support the rest of us.  The one who never stopped to relax, but kept pushing because she knew it would only mean better things for us.   

As a mom now, I can't tell you how much I appreciate my mom and all that she did/does for us.

It is my goal that one day my kids look back and are thankful for the mom they had.  For if they feel that way, I will then know I was successful in my role as "mom" because I had the worlds best role model for me.  I love you Mom.  Thank you for ALL you do for us.  While we will never be able to repay you for all the sacrifices you've given up, I hope you know we recognize them, are oh so thankful.  Mom- We love you more than you'll ever know. Happy Mother's Day!

To all the Mother's out there, may your day be filled with love, celebration for all you do, and that you know how much you are cherished.

Until next time,
Angie