What a week.... highs and lows

Thinking back to the last 7 days, I have no other way to fully describe it than to say, "What a week."

Last Wednesday we celebrated Michael's 9th birthday.  In lieu of a celebration Michael decided he instead wanted to spend the money on a new bicycle and a dinner out.  Wednesday afternoon, Dad and I picked up Michael early from school and went together to help him pick out his new big kid bike.  Its crazy how a very quick trip to Target, one where I found a spot on the end cap to sit the whole time is a huge outing for me these days.  Gone are the days when I "run" to the store to grab groceries, or to to the library to pick up books and movies for the kids.  Literally, the last several months have consisted primarily of me driving to work, getting a ride to my office, sitting at my desk, getting a ride back to the car, driving home and resting.  What will it feel like to be able to be more active again?  I'm not sure.  Wow, quite the tangent... back to Michael's birthday.

He was so excited he got to pick out a new bicycle and helmet, and Dad and I agreed to pay a certain amount, Michael also put forth some of his money to help pay too.  We've found the boys have a whole new appreciation for how much things cost and are wiling to take better care of things when their money is invested in their new possession. Dad and I are fans of this new appreciation.

While we didn't have a celebration, we did buy a huge A&* cake.  Sadly I think I've eaten well over a 1/3 of it myself!  The night of Michael's birthday as we said goodnight he said he felt like his 9th birthday was one of his best.  It made me happy to hear that despite keeping things very low key this year (primarily for the restrictions I'm under) that he still found his day to be special.  Happy birthday Michael, we all love you!

On Friday, Good Friday, we honored the meaning of the day by remembering the sacrifice our God has made by dying for our sins.  We went to church at noon and just like it is every month on the 25th I walked around feeling more emotional and sad for knowing we have made it through another month without our precious Noah in our arms.  Walking into church that afternoon, the memories of his funeral hit me instantly.  For some reason the church smelled exactly like it had on the day of his service.  The church was dimly lit to honor the mourning we feel in Jesus' sacrifice and all of it, every aspect reminded me that while we were remembering the son that died for our sins, my heart was feeling the son that died in my arms.  There were several times throughout the service I had to stop and try to gather my composure.  Several songs reminded me of the great loss I feel in missing Noah.  As the service began and the lights in the sanctuary were dimmed, I happened to look up a few minutes into the service and noticed to the left of the cross, appearing along the wall was a rainbow.  It had to be coming from the stained glass windows and the sun light shining through them up onto the wall.  I reached over, tapped Jarrett on the shoulder, and when he looked at me, tears had already welled in his eyes.  He had seen it too.  No words needed to be spoken.  While I didn't know the time exactly, I am confident it was about 10 minutes into the noon service... about the exact same time our son's heart became still exactly 9 months earlier.

I cannot imagine what Mary must have gone through watching her son die such a horrific death, but if there is one thing I do feel I can relate to, is knowing the emptiness in her heart she had to have felt in losing her precious child.

After church Jarrett and I walked out with the kids.  Once in the car the kids asked for the radio to be turned on and as they were singing away, I reached across the console for Jarrett's hand.  Emotional and fighting back tears I said, "I couldn't help but think of Noah through that entire service."  Jarrett said, "You know, the moment we walked into the church today, everything reminded me of Noah's funeral.  The smell, the lighting, everything about it, make me feel like we were back there reliving that day."  I turned to him, and said, "Jarrett I thought the exact same thing.  It was exactly like we were reliving it."  And then I said, "Wasn't it crazy that rainbow appeared?"  He said, "Yes I saw it and thought of him right away."  I then asked, "Did you realize about what time it appeared?" Jarrett squeezed my hand, I knew he couldn't get the words out, so I said it for him... Dad it had to be about 12:10.  We both sat in silence the rest of the drive home, yet the messages from our hearts spilled out and through one another through the embrace of our hands.  It was Good Friday... a day of reflection, a day of honoring the sacrifices made for us, and a day to remember our sons... the son of God and our son Noah.

The sunset on the day of Noah's funeral. 

 As emotional as Friday was, we looked forward to Saturday as it gave us a chance to celebrate our newest princess and the joy we feel as we anticipate her arrival.  We were so blessed and thankful to be showered in love by some family and close friends.  Jarrett's parents and my aunt Anita and her girls (all people who have been so wonderfully supportive and carried us through the last several months) hosted a shower at our house.  We felt so loved and cared for and it was nice to see everyone I haven't seen in a long time.  We are so thankful for the support and love shared with us.

Isabelle is very excited to meet her baby sister.

We played a game where everyone had to cut a string as long as they thought my belly is around.  Here's Alicia measuring her string around my growing belly.

And of course we had to have more yummy cake!

On Saturday afternoon, we decided it was time to color eggs for the Easter bunny.  While I will forever remember Easter as the holiday when we first shared with the world we were expecting Noah, we try to still carry on with the traditions that make us smile and bring us together to celebrate.  Dying Easter eggs is one of those traditions.

On Easter morning the kids got up extra early, way too early, as they were excited to see what treats were awaiting them.  It actually turned out to be a blessing they got up so early as we were still racing to get to church on time.  After church I told the family I wanted to take a family picture as I'm not sure how many more pictures we'll get to take with the basketball in my stomach, before baby girl makes her debut.  So we attempted to take a family portrait.  Many many bad photos later, several attempts to tell each kid to smile and to open their eyes, we finally got a couple that will pass.

Hard to believe they can be getting so big!

Easter was a beautiful day not only in that we got to celebrate Jesus's rising from the tomb, but we got to spend time with family and the fact that we had reached yet another goal... 32 weeks.

This was the milestone Dr. A told me over a month ago that if we got to this point we would celebrate.  And we did.  All day long I thought to myself, I never thought we'd get to this point.  Thank you God for watching over us and helping us to get here.  

32 weeks not only signified yet another milestone that we had reached but it also meant that my contraction medication that has been a saving grace since week 17 was coming  to and end.  Due to risks to the baby, Motrin has to be stopped.  In its place, the doctor prescribed a blood pressure medication called Nifedipine.  This medication works differently than the pain killer of Motrin, in that it relaxes the smooth muscles in one's body.  Often used to bring down blood pressure in people who suffer from high blood pressure, they've found it also had a helpful effect on treating contractions in the uterus.  I'll be honest, I was nervous about giving up the Motrin, it had worked so well for all those weeks, I prayed this new medication would be just as effective.  

Yesterday morning I woke up and took the first dose of the Nifedipine and then I went to work.  Sitting at my desk, I felt one contraction after another after another.  I told myself to relax, that it might take a few doses to get enough of the drug in my system to calm everything down.  While the contractions continued, I decided I had better start writing down the times they were happening so I could track how far a part they were.  And as each contraction came and went and came again, I started to feel worse.  My head started to ache, my stomach felt sick and in a strange way I felt hungover and drunk at the same time (which is pretty hard to experience when you haven't had an adult drink in almost 9 months).  I knew Jarrett had an extremely busy day and was facing a major deadline in getting something filed for work.  I didn't want to bother him or add any stress to him about how terrible I was feeling.  

Midway through the morning, I sent him a text that just said, "Hope your having a productive day. Love you."  I did my best to keep myself occupied, keeping my bladder empty as much as I could, even though getting up to walk to the bathroom caused another contraction each time.  As the hours slowly ticked away, it was clear there was a pattern in the contractions... first they were 9 minutes a part and eventually increasing in frequency to every six minutes.  I had also noticed baby girl seemed much less active than she normally is.

Thankfully the time to take my second dose came and I went home.  I stopped and picked up the kids, getting Isabelle first, followed by the boys.  By this time my ache in my head had turned into a full blown terrible headache and I felt like I had been hit with the flu.  I got the boys and as they crawled into the car I begged them to be on their best behavior, telling them that I felt terrible, that noise was excruciating to tolerate and that I needed their help to stay quiet and busy when we got home.  It was an hour before my home health care nurse was suppose to come to give me my weekly injection of progesterone.  As the contractions continued, I told myself to relax, to lay down as soon as I could and that her shot would soon help.  Before then though I had to take Gabriel to baseball practice and as things most regularly they are at our house, we raced to get him there, so we could race to get back to meet her.

We got back and just minutes later she was here.  We caught up briefly and she asked me how I was.  I told her what I had been feeling all day and that baby girl had been much less active.  She put the Doppler on my stomach and after some moving around she was finally able to hear her heartbeat.  I knew immediately it was different.  I laid quietly while I heard her counting in her mind and I knew, something wasn't right.  I said, "Doesn't her heartbeat sound really slow today?"  She said, "It does seem slower than normal."  She rechecked it a couple of times and each time baby girl's heart rate sounded the same... different and slower.  In talking with her she said, "I think you should go to OB triage at the hospital, but let's call your doctor to see what they think.  Bethany called and spoke to the on-call physician who agreed immediately, "Tell her to go right away."  Bethany gave me the shot as I heard Jarrett walking through the door (completely unaware of anything that had been going on during the day).  I got myself put back together and Bethany and I walked out of the bedroom together.  Jarrett said hello and asked how things are to which Bethany said, "We are sending her to the hospital."  I saw the expression on Jarrett's face immediately change to concern.  Bethany quickly left, I called my aunt Anita and a few minutes later we were on our way to Banner OB triage.  

Driving to the hospital was surreal as it was the first time we were headed back there for this pregnancy but the memories of driving there on that scary morning when my water broke with Noah was all we were both thinking of.  Jarrett was nervous I could clearly tell as he accelerated faster and faster, until I looked over and reminded him to not get a ticket.  He'd slow back down but a few miles later would be back to accelerating again  I texted Kristal, my wonderful friend who was there with us through Noah's delivery and I said, "You working tonight? I'm on my way to OB triage."  She texted back right away, "I'm in LanD, you okay?"  It took me a minute to realize she wasn't at Disneyland (what I thought she meant) but instead Labor and Delivery.  I felt reassurance immediately that I knew a friendly, reassuring face would be there to provide support.  As we got closer to the hospital, Jarrett was quiet, I was quiet I think both processing what unknown we were about to face.  I tried to remind myself, "We are at 32 weeks, that's much different than 23 weeks."  

Arriving at the hospital and walking in, it was the start of the movie in my mind, our minds of reliving the journey we had with Noah.  Every smell, every sign, all the same... in fact the exact same nurse, Amy was the one who checked us in back on that early June morning and she was the same one there last night.  In some ways, I thought, "really God?"  but maybe just maybe this is the way the story is suppose to be rewritten. Amy asked me why I was there and I repeated everything that had been happening throughout the day.  I said, I"m here for a NST (Non-stress test) to see how the baby was.  Right away she hooked me up to the monitor and right away it was clear... my contractions hadn't decreased by any means, in fact they had increased... and baby's heart rate was reflecting the stress she had been put under all day.  Amy asked me to rate my contractions and if I had noticed any fluid leaking or if they were increasing in intensity.  I told her I had had several strong ones and that I needed to empty my bladder as I knew that would help.  She let me use the restroom and when I came back I was hooked up again.  She monitored them and slipped out of the room for a few minutes to talk with the doctor.  Just a couple of minutes later, the beautiful smiling, reassuring Kristal appeared near my bed.  She reached out to offer support and asked me to catch her up on what was going on.  She as always was a great support, while watching the monitors closely.  She's so good at providing reassurance while also tracking all the medical readings being recorded.  She grabbed the paper recording all of baby's heartbeats and my contractions and she said, "You're contractions are coming every minute or so."  Just then Amy reappeared back in the room with a shot of Terbutaline, a shot to stop the contractions.  She asked me if I had had this before and I said, "Yes that's what they gave me when I came in with Noah after my water broke.  She reminded me that the shot would make me feel flush, that my heart was racing and that I would be jittery.  I didn't care, at that point, I wanted them to do what ever they could to slow them down or get them to stop.  I knew that if they didn't, I'd be moving to L and D too.  Meanwhile Jarrett monitored the monitors like he did before, closely watching every beep, every decent and the heartbeat continuously.

Thankfully after 20 or so minutes my uterus started to quiet down and Amy brought me some juice and some food (our old standby graham crackers and peanut butter) as I hadn't really eaten anything since lunch at 11:30.  It was now close to 8:30 p.m.  The juice and snacks really hit the spot and baby girl must have liked them too, because with my uterus quieting down she must have finally felt like she could move again.  As it has been for many weeks, every single movement I feel, is like a gift of reassurance I never take for granted.  After another almost 30 minutes of monitoring, Amy came back through the door and asked me if I wanted to go home.  I smiled and immediately said, "Yes"  

Amy went through a list of several things to watch for, reminded me to pack our hospital bag if we haven't already and gave us a list of reasons we should come back to the hospital  Amy said we should follow up right away with our doctors in the morning, but I had already texted my friend who works with Dr. E and filled her in.  She had talked to Dr. E who said he'd see me first thing today.  I just had to make it through the night.  Seeing Marybeth and Dr. E always provides us with such reassurance, I told myself to relax, we'd know more in the morning. I was thankful to be leaving with baby girl still inside me... we had made it to 32 weeks and 1 day. 

This morning, well pretty much all night long I laid awake, feeling terrible as I attribute it all to the Nifedipine.  I tried not to worry but was scared the medication I had taken was hurting the baby.  I spent several hours awake praying, staring at article after article on my phone about Nifedipine and pregnancy and watching the office.  I told Jarrett I felt worse on this medication than I did on the magnesium sulfate they had me on in the hospital with Noah (and that medication seems to have a bad rap).  I felt shortness of breath, a headache like no other, like I had the flu, a hangover and drunk all at the same time... It was not fun, but what I worried about most was that some how the baby was suffering more.

This morning when my eyes opened again I gave thanks immediately that the sun was rising, that baby was still inside and I prayed okay.  I laid in bed trying to get her to move and nudge me to say, "I'm okay mom."  I ate some toast, drank more juice and finally felt a slight roll on my right side.  I got up, showered, which made me feel a lot better and then I sat by my phone waiting for the clock to tick 8:00.  I called and asked how soon I could come in.  As wonderful as Valley Perinatal has been to me from the beginning, their great care continued and I was told to come in at 9 for my ultrasound and that Dr. E would see me as soon as he finished rounds at the hospital.  

We first got to see baby girl during the ultrasound and it was SO wonderful to see her today. She was laying on her tummy with her head WAY down so at first it was hard to get any pictures of her face.  Today's ultrasound was previously scheduled to measure her so I was happy to hear we'd still be able to find out how much she weighs.  Marybeth measured her legs, her arms and her Buddha belly.  Still measuring big, she's in the 90th percentile for how big her arms, legs and stomach is.  Then we got to hear how much she weighs.  Baby girl was 3 lbs 2 ounces at 28 weeks so I was hoping she was well over 4 pounds by now.  Turns out baby girl is really packing on the weight as she now weighs 5 pounds 4 ounces!   

 Yes that as much as some babies born at 36 weeks.  In fact baby girl has packed on the fat so much she has a double chin... I'm not joking, we have a picture to prove it. 

See that cute double chin, even though her face is blurry, it's clear... she definitely takes after her mom!

As much as we love to see her filling out, we also got to see her moving quite a bit.  This video shows her moving her hands in front of her face and making expressions with her mouth.

Hearing that baby girl has been growing like a weed and is at a really good weight (some may even say BIG).  We are so thankful.  

After the ultrasound we were able to meet with Dr. E.  Last night I was hoping to hear that they'd be willing to put me back on the Motrin as I have come to know that it works really well.  When we met with Dr. E. he carefully went through all the risks and possible complications we face with where we are at.  He laid everything out clearly and told us at this point we are trying to buy time and that means we often take a risk with one thing, in the hopes it means we can keep her inside longer.  It seems to be that the benefits of staying inside the womb far outweigh risks in facing contractions.  I asked about Motrin and learned the reason why they take women off it at 32 week is because the risk of that important value in the baby's heart closing increases after this point in pregnancy.  I had thought the risk of it closing only meant that they'd take me back off of it so it could open again.  I learned I was wrong, very wrong.  The risk of that valve closing is that the baby could die.  Dr. E was very clear about that however the odds of that happening are very small.  Hearing him say that the baby could die was like an alarm going off.  It was all I could think of after wards.  

Dr. E evaluated my situation, clarified lots of questions we had and decided he wants me to go back on the Motrin, albeit a much small dosage, with the hopes we can buy one more week.  We agreed that I would say on the Nipedipine and alternate that with the Motrin.  We'd be back in one week for a follow up ultrasound and that if anything changes we should keep him posted.  As scary as it is for me to think about the risks we are facing, I completely trust Dr. E.  

And trust and faith is all we've really ever had this entire pregnancy.  From day one, of finding out about Noah and now baby girl, I've realized I really have no control over how things are going to play out.  I have to put my complete faith into the hands of experts who have successfully guided us in this pregnancy for the last many months, and in God, who ultimately is in control of my life and hers.  I pray with all my might, the medicine will do what its supposed to and that the contractions will stay at bay and that baby will remain health and the valve open.  I ask, if you believe in prayer to please say a prayer for our baby and that my body cooperates as we try to buy a few more days and God willing a few more weeks.

This past 7 days has been filled with many highs and some emotional lows.  We celebrate each day we get, we pray for many more and we give thanks for the blessings we have.

Until next time,

Angie 

Michael’s 9th year of adventure…

Today Michael celebrates turning 9.  So hard to believe when I look back at this picture of my first image of my second son. 

He was just three and still had the toddler fat in his hands and the cute indentions where his knuckles eventually would fill.  I love those precious little paddies (my grandma’s word for precious baby hands).  I remember rubbing my fingers over his soft smooth hands in those first weeks and months as we grew together as a family, and as a mother and son.

Michael was so little to me back then and now I look at him and think he’s grown up in the blink of a moment.  Michael continues to be our full of energy, funny, keeps-ya-constantly-guessing kid.  He’s always been our one to push boundaries, question why things are the way are, and challenge why they can’t be a different way.  I think it is this personality that is going to take him very far in life.  Not one to just accept the answer at face value, he needs to understand the why and to question if there is a “this can be better” solution waiting to be discovered.

I tell Michael one day he’ll either be a great politician, lawyer, or professional debater because he can find an a particular view point that hasn’t been thought of and discuss it to the end of time.  As a stubborn mother who likes things done her way (I fully admit), this sometimes means Michael and I go round after round on multiple topics a day. As much as he can test my patience, make me want to shout, “because I said so, isn’t that a good enough reason?”, I know someday this trait is going to be the difference between him giving up  or persevering through…. And we all know life sometimes tests us in ways we want to give up, but can’t. I will never worry about Michael giving up on something he feels strongly about. 

This past year we’ve seen Michael grow and change, struggle and thrive as he grows from a kid into an older child.  He’s excited about the next stage that awaits, asking me if he can start puberty this summer (like you start a class or an exercise program).  I told him it doesn’t work that way and his body gets to decide when the next “phase” of life for him will start. He’s convinced he can make his body start that process this summer.

As much as Michael pushes boundaries which sometimes lands him on the wrong side of the rules, he can be just as much a sweet helper and a kind loving brother, son and friend.  After sharing the news that we were expecting again, Michael asks me countless days, how I am feeling, how the baby is and if he can feel her.  It is clear he’s just as emotionally connected to our goal of bringing home a healthy baby as we are.  And while Isabelle irritates him to no end when she touches his stuff, he still cares about her and tries to do whatever he can to help her. 

One of the ways I’ve seen Michael grow this year is in his desire to work hard and earn money.  Back in Iowa over Christmas he helped Grandpa and Grandma, and his aunts and uncles with projects or chores, to which he was rewarded with some money.  He winningly accepted new jobs and saw the value in earning dollars in exchange for hard work.  He saved his money and this spring used it to buy himself a flying drone.  He carefully budgeted his money, making sure to save some for his next “must have” item, and was surprised to learn just how much things cost.  This has been such a good lesson for him, he know is meticulously aware of where not only his money goes, but also ours.  Last night, Gabriel had a baseball game and of course we were racing to grab dinner before the start… so it was dinner on the run, or through the drive through I should say.  Michael asked for a “dad-sized” largest burger they made costing a whopping $6.59.  After studying the menu and pulling up to the window he realized that he could have just ordered 2 regular cheeseburgers and saved almost $4.00.  As I handed back his monster burger he said, “Mom, I’m sorry I got the expensive burger, next time I’ll just get two cheeseburgers and we can save the rest of the money.”  While not necessary, I told him I appreciated him being mindful of ways to save money.  I’m thankful for his interest in working hard and valuing just how much things cost. 

Sometimes out of the blue, Michael will surprise me with doing and saying the nicest things.  Just this past Sunday on our way to church we were listening to music when Michael said, “I miss my favorite teacher Ms. Thomas.  She was so nice to me and taught me so much.  I hope she is having fun teaching English in China.”    We haven’t seen Ms. Thomas, his first grade teacher since last summer, but it’s clear, the impression she left on his heart and in his mind are permanent.  When Michael cares about something, there’s no letting go. 

And that’s what makes me love him so much.  He feels passionately about all the loves in his life.  And I can’t think about any better way to love than to give all you are and more.  As we look forward to celebrating our middle son and all that makes him special, I give thanks to God for him.  Michael has taught me to look at life very differently, he challenges me in ways I’ve never been challenged and makes me see the value in appreciating just how different we can all be and still want the same basic aspects of life…. To be loved, to be cared for and to know we are important.

Michael you are loved more than you’ll ever truly understand (I know you’ll probably disagree with me and say you do know how much we love you).  I mean what I say when I tell you, that getting picked to be your and Gabriel’s mom was the answer to my prayers, and one of the happiest days of my entire life.  Getting to be your mom is a gift, because as you tell me, you had three mom’s (your birth mom, your foster mom and me), but Michael, I’m the lucky one because I get to be with you every day.  We wish you the very best birthday as you turn 9 years old.  We pray for you, that happiness always lights your path, that blessings flow abundantly into your life and that you always remember we are here to hold your hand (as big as it is now) and to cheer you along every step of your way.

We love always Michael William…

Mom and Dad

31 Weeks: Where is the time going?

I never thought I’d say that.  Especially thinking back to week 22.  I prayed so hard for the weeks to pass quickly and to weeks 32, 34, 36 to be actual reasonable target dates to reach.  And here we are with only 5 days to go before we get to week 32.  Yes, the week Dr. A said we would celebrate if I made it to.  As greedy as it sounds, now we want to shoot for 36 weeks, and there’s a tiny part of me that now actually believes we can get there.

Last night sitting on the couch with my back to the kitchen, I listened as Jarrett, scrounged through the cupboards trying to find something to eat, and I said to him, “Dad, I’m actually starting to let myself believe we will get to bring home our baby.”  He shut the cupboard door and came around the counter to the side of the couch and looked at me straight in the eyes and said, “I hope so.”  He paused and I said, “Dad, its just this whole pregnancy I’ve been so afraid of the nightmare that I couldn’t allow myself to let go of the fear of the “what if.”  Now that we are over 31 weeks and baby girl is gaining weight and growing like a weed, I feel like I can finally allow myself to believe this chapter in our happy fairy tale pregnancy may just end with the words, “And they lived happily ever after.” 

Dad sat down next to me on the couch and started rubbing my back, which now aches due to the weight I’ve been so lucky to carry around on the front of my stomach.  I try not to complain, but ask him now nightly if he’d rub my back.  I’d gladly take the ache in my back if it means I can keep baby girl inside.  I remind myself with every new pain or uncomfortable adjustment, that this is the greatest feeling in the world.  She’s still inside.  Dad rubbed my back and went onto say how we can now very much dream about, picture, celebrate what we are about to receive.  Dad said, “As Laurie would say, “It tastes delicious, let’s enjoy it!”  And he’s right. 

Baby girl has been extremely active this past week or so, she’s been rolling around in my stomach, doing gymnastics or play dodge ball with her umbilical cord or who knows what.  I love the feel of every single moment and sometimes, when she gets her foot stuck up in my rib or along the far left hand side of my body, feeling like she’s stretched out almost to my back, it triggers an automatic smile on my face.  It’s simply the most amazing feeling I’ve ever experienced and I feel so grateful to enjoy it.  It’s one of those gifts, I resigned myself to years ago, that it wasn’t in the cards for me.  This past weekend I laid on the couch and watched as she rolled around, grabbing my phone just in time to take a quick video.  I know I’ll come to miss these movements in a few short weeks/months so I’m glad I’ll have this video to remember for years and years to come.

I feel in the past week, I’ve swallowed a basketball that now sits on my front.  Some nights as I change to get ready for my bedtime, (which comes around about 8:30 or 9 at the very latest these days), I look in the mirror at my stomach and study its shape, the roundness and how it looks.  I try to capture in my mind the simple transformation one’s body goes through as it grows a tiny human and I think, “there just has to be a God.”  Who else could have created something so masterful.  

And as much as I love this tiny baby girl growing and thriving inside of me, I also can’t help but think about Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle’s birth moms.  It’s so hard to describe the love I feel for our second daughter, the one inside of me, even though I’ve only met her through ultrasound pictures and the nudges she gives me several times throughout the day.  And yet, I feel a love so strongly for her, its impossible to describe.  I would give my life for her, (for any of my children) in an instant, if it meant I could give them their life.  And in that thought, I realize, that same thought must have gone through the minds of the mother’s whose babies I get to raise.  I can’t imagine the heartache and pain in having to say goodbye to one’s precious child and knowing that they are out there being raised by someone else. My only connection to possibly understanding what they have gone through is thinking about my loss in saying goodbye to Noah.  I had to say goodbye to my child but find comfort in knowing someday I’ll see him again.  Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle’s mothers, had to say goodbye knowing their child’s hearts beat on outside of their lives… and that they may not get to be a part of their lives again.  That is a kind of grief, I am not going to pretend to understand.

So it makes me even more grateful for the way that I became a mother.  That I was lucky enough to obtain the greatest title in all the earth, through the gift of someone else’s grief.  As cold and heartless as it sounds, instead it makes me even more grateful that I get to be the mom to the three precious babies given life by someone else.  What an ultimate sacrifice they gave, and Dad and I were the lucky recipients.

  As I think about these past 8 months, now officially into the 8^th month of pregnancy (Yahoo!) I am sometimes surprised at the transformation that has taken shape in me.  I’m not talking about the physical part of my changing appearance, but of the mental metamorphosis I’ve undergone.  If you could have looked into my mind 8 months ago, as we found out we were pregnant yet again, you would have seen a weak, beaten down, untrusting, broken-in-faith, grieving mother, unsure how to go on.  As this baby girl grew inside of me, filling my body with her daily changing appearance and growth, I grew too.  Mentally facing obstacle after hurdle, grief panic and turmoil, and yet at the same time, growing in strength and hope that we were being carried.

I sit here today, a mom of 5, filled with strength, rejuvenated with hope, living with truth in the grief I carry, but confident that life can be joyous again.  Today I possess a drive that I can and will go on.  I needed this baby to find it in myself.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but there must have been a  greater plan.  I’ll never understand losing Noah, I’ll never be okay with it, but I’m learning to accept it.  I’m also learning to accept that this baby girl has given me strength I never knew I had, faith to carry on, and complete altruistic love.  What gifts I’ve been given.

Here’s to 31 weeks… so grateful.

Until next time,

Angie

St. Patricks Day

When I was a kid St. Patrick's day was simply a day we wore green and tried to find someone who didn't so we could pinch them.  While I don't remember actually pinching anyone or one particular year of what I wore, there is one memory I have that makes me look back on this holiday and smile.  I was in high school and happened to have a dentist appointment in Sumner, a town about 25 miles away from my hometown where our dentist office was.  Sumner was my mom's hometown and for some reason we always went to the dentist there even though, we have several to choose from in the small town we lived in.  Looking back now, I wonder if the reason why we never switch dentists was because the town of Sumner had an amazing bakery and no dentist visit was complete without a token stop at the bakery following our bi-annual cleaning.  Yep, I'm pretty sure that's why we drove 25 minutes to the dentist.

This particular year I was a junior in high school and could drive myself to the dentist.  That day on my way home, I decided to stop off at my grandma and grandpa's house as it was on the way home.  As I walked into my grandparents house, my grandpa was still at work and I hadn't told my grandma I was coming, so I surprised her as I walked in to her house shouting her name.  She was in the kitchen with the radio playing in the background and she was busy working on preparing supper for my grandpa and her.  As I made my way to the kitchen, the first thing I saw was a beautiful bouquet of white flowers with beautiful greenery around them.  I assumed right away they were from my grandpa and I quickly sorted through the files in my brain to figure out what special birthday, anniversary, holiday I had missed and forgotten to celebrate with them.  I said to my grandma, those are such beautiful flowers, what's the occasion grandpa got those for you?"  Grandma smiled and said, "Take a look at the card."  I walked over to the side of the counter reached across to read the card and quickly saw that the gift of flowers wasn't from Grandpa (although he often got her flowers), this time the flowers were from my dad.  I don't remember what the card said exactly, but it was something to the point of celebrating my grandma's Irish heritage and wishing her a very happy St. Patrick's day."  I, being very surprised to see that the flowers were from my dad and that he sent them to her for St. Patrick's day, turned to my grandma and said, "Wow, they are from my dad?" Staring straight at Grandma I saw her eyes had filled with water.  She wiped a tear away and tried to get the words out of her mouth.  "Isn't that so nice dear?"  She always called me dear, her term of affection.  I walked over and hugged her and said, "Happy St. Patrick's Day."  I then pulled away, smiled and said, "Guess Dad earned some major bonus points today huh?"  Grandma smiled and said, it sure made my day.

I've never forgotten about that bouquet of flowers and the powerful impact it made on my grandma.  I told my dad that night when I saw him, that him sending Grandma those flowers really meant a lot to her, but I don't know if he really knows just how much they meant.  I've thought many times about that gesture of kindness and how it not only was important to her but how it has stuck with me.  It made me realize that sometimes the smallest gesture, can have a far reaching impact.

Tuesday morning on our way to school, Michael said, "Mom, isn't tomorrow the leprechaun day?"  I said, "Yep, tomorrow is St. Patrick's day."  Michael's eyes lit up and he said, "Great I'm going to make a trap to catch St. Patrick when he brings us the money."

Almost six years ago when the boys came home, we made a huge deal out of every holiday.  St. Patrick's day being one of them.  That first year, the leprechaun brought the boys a four leaf clover, a poem about the holiday, as well as some "gold" from his stash.  The little leprechaun must have snuck into their bedroom through the window as the trail of coins went down from their window blinds to the floor and all around their room.  Every year since St. Patrick has returned leaving them a little portion of the pot of gold he possess.

This year, while Michael forgot to make his trap for St. Patrick, he was pushing his luck in  all things magical, as right before bed, Michael pulled out one of his teeth.  So not only did St. Patrick have to find a way to sneak into his room, but the tooth fairy had to find her way in as well.

Yesterday morning when Michael and Gabriel woke up they found much to their happiness that indeed both the tooth fairy and St. Patrick the leprechaun had made their way into their room (and outside) to leave a little treat.

This year St. Patrick must have come through Isabelle's window.  We found the trail of money started from her window, through the baby's crib, onto the floor through their room and out into the hallway outside of the boy's room.

And once out into the hallway, the money trail stopped outside of the boys' room.  Perhaps St. Patrick couldn't reach the door knob to open their door.  Or he was too lazy to risk waking the boys up by going into their room after the tooth fairy had made her appearance.  Either excuse, the boys didn't seem to mind when they woke up the next morning, and raced around collecting their loot so fast, even Mom couldn't snap a picture fast enough 

Isabelle had stayed at Nana and Papa's house the night before so she didn't get to pick up her gifts until she came home yesterday.  She wasn't sure what a leprechaun was so I showed her on my phone.  She now calls him the little green guy who left her money.  She seems to be a fan too!

Who would have thought 5 years ago when we celebrated our first St. Patrick with the boys, that St. Patrick would have left such a lasting impression.  Having our little leprechaun friend visit each year has been something the boys have remembered and reminded us of each March since.  While I'll not know until the kids are grown and gone, I hope this holiday becomes a memory that my kids look back on and remember with joy and happiness from their youth.  Its a small little tradition that obviously has come to mean a lot to them; and if I really think about it, some of my favorite memories from my childhood are from activities that we did as kids that became a tradition.

So here's to St. Patrick's Day, what ever that day looks like to you.
For us its the visiting, coin dropping leprechaun that brings smiles.  For my grandma it was the flowers shared in honor of her Irish heritage.  What ever this special day brings, its clear, St. Patrick's Day is a tradition sure to stick around.

Before signing off, I found this Irish blessing yesterday that made me smile.  I share with all those who read this and hope this blessing is true for you....

Wishing you a rainbow of sunlight after showers-

Miles and miles of Irish smiles, for golden happy hours

Shamrocks at your doorway, for luck and laughter too,

And a host of friends that never ends

Each day your whole life through.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Until next time,
Angie

29 Weeks...Surprise Celebration

Last week was not only spring break for the kids, but it was also our last week of being in the 20'ish weeks of pregnancy.  Week 29... a milestone I'm very thankful to have reached.

With the boys being off of school, and mom trying to save her time from work until after the baby comes, my aunt Sue from Iowa, volunteered to come out and help watch the kids for us.  We are so thankful she came and the kids enjoyed so much getting to spend time with her.  It was really their first time getting to spend a lot of quality time together and all of them are impressed.  "She's so nice!" was what I heard over and over and over.  And even on the days when I didn't have to go to work and was at home with them, they begged me to have Sue come over and play instead.

One day, the kids and I made a trip downtown to see Dad at work for a bit.  He agreed to watch the kids so I could slip out and run a care package to the hospital of some friends who are going through a challenging journey right now.  We hadn't been down to Dad's office together in a very long time, and while we were there one of Dad's colleagues insisted on snapping a family picture.  Looking at the photo below, makes me realize just how short I'm getting, compared to the boys!  Seriously, when did they grow so big!?!?!?!  Even Isabelle, for only being 4 is over half as tall as I am.  It won't be long before baby girl and I are the shortest ones in the family.  

Week 29 was a week of blessings as well.  My weekly ultrasound on Tuesday showed that baby girl is doing well.  The valve in her heart remains open and she seems to have plenty of fluid. During the ultrasound we were able to see her practice breathing, stretching with all her might, as well as having the hiccups.  At one point when Marybeth was checking her heartbeat, she even responded to the noise of hearing the machine echo the sound of her heart beating.  All good signs.

Mom, I'm not interested in getting my picture taken this week.  So I'll just show you my long fingers.

  The other wonderful surprising blessing this week, was that my colleagues surprised me and hosted a beautiful baby shower for baby girl and me.   I was completely surprised when I walked into what I thought was a planning meeting last Wednesday.  Instead I walked into a room filled with my friends who were there to celebrate our baby girl.  I was extremely touched and no detail had been missed.  From the amazing food, the decorations, the beautiful flowers, and the very generous gifts.  I still feel so blessed and grateful for the love they shared with me.  I will always remember the joy I felt and the love that was shared.

Here are a few pictures from the beautiful celebration.

These flowers smell so beautiful. I've enjoyed them so much!

Yep I was VERY surprised!

Even MORE food!

Showered with so many beautiful and very touching gifts.

And even an adorable diaper cake.

So many blessings to give thanks for.  From a good report at the doctors office, to the beautiful celebration held by my work friends, to the reality that I sit here today and still feel her moving and squirming inside of me.  

So thankful.  Now here's to week 30!

Until next time,

Angie

30 weeks and 9 months...

This morning at church we sat behind a couple who had just recently welcomed their first child into the world, a son specifically.  It happened that the mother held her baby boy throughout the entire service and I sat right behind her.

Isabelle was fascinated with the precious baby boy.  He was maybe 3 months old at most and darling with a tiny amount of hair on the top of his head and a cute button nose.  I couldn't help it, the entire church service I watched his every move, I studied his eyes, his forehead and the way he tried to balance his heavy head on his little shoulders... I thought of Noah the entire time.

Today Noah would have been 9 months old.  This morning I woke up early, around 4:30 and couldn't go back to sleep.  I hadn't realized yet that it was the 13th but couldn't shake an uneasy feeling. I went to the bathroom, for the 8th time during the night, and as I washed my hands in the dimly lit bathroom, I asked myself..."What is bothering you?"  I couldn't put my finger on it.  I crawled back into bed, turned on the TV to distract myself and hoped I'd fall back asleep.  At 5:30, I was still awake watching the news when Isabelle came into our room and crawled in between Jarrett and me.  She immediately started talking, I wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, so I turned on her show, "My Little Pony" turned on my side to keep my stomach away from her some times kicking legs and closed my eyes.

A few minutes later I had fallen back asleep.  In my dream I was preparing breakfast for my family.  All 7 of us.  It was a about a year from today and our baby girl was almost a year old.  Gabriel and Michael were arguing about what they wanted me to make for breakfast and Isabelle was tagging on my shirt begging to play the I-Pad.  I held our precious daughter and as went around the counter to pull out the pans to start cooking, Noah came toddling around the counter and greeted me with a smile and a "Hi Momma."  Life seemed very chaotic but I remember feeling pure joy in the craziness.
With the jab of an elbow in my back, Isabelle woke me up from my sleep.  I couldn't have even been dreaming for 10 minutes but the vividness of the dream seemed like it had been hours.  I got up and started to get ready for church.  Soon enough the feeling that had been bothering me in those early morning hours was back.

I got out of the shower, got dressed, quickly ate some Cheerios so I could take my morning pills and sat on the couch.  Jarrett asked me what was wrong and I told him I just felt sad.  By this point I new today was the 13th and why that nagging feeling of being unsettled was going to be my companion.

As much as I felt distracted today at church the message was totally applicable to how I was feeling.  The message was about pressing on, despite the challenges we face in this life.  I felt like Pastor Jerry was almost talking directly to us as he spoke about some of the greatest challenges one can face in this life, but he encouraged us to remember the greatest reward at the end of this life, is pure joy in Heaven when we leave this world behind.  I thought of Noah and gave thanks he never has to endure the pains and challenges of this world.

I tried for most of the day to keep myself occupied and to keep myself distracted.  Dad took Michael to the Renaissance Festival so it was just Gabriel, Isabelle and I at home.  Gabriel played with Harlen, our neighbor friend, and Isabelle was my shadow.  I decided to start working on a small thank you gift to share with the nurses and doctors who help us deliver our daughter in the coming weeks.  Going through the experience we did with Noah, I am truly grateful for the care, love and concern the doctors and nurses share with their patients.  Isabelle seemed to enjoy getting to have craft time with me as she made me several pictures with stickers and letters.  It was truly nice to have her company and made me so thankful I get to have this time with her before her youngest baby sibling joins our family.

Also this afternoon I received a text from my wonderfully supportive friend Sonya who also shared with me about the message she heard at church.  She shared that their church had had a guest speaker who had lost a child in a car accident within the past year.  This person talked about how some wounds are SO big that they can't be fixed, but rather carried.  She shared further that we are recognized by God with our wounds and the he's not interested in us being perfect, but accept us for who we are.  The guest speaker said that it is okay for us to be known by others through our wounds, our grief.  I found great comfort in her text message and I replied back to thank her for the encouraging words and for sharing with me.  I also said that the timing of her message was so perfect as today was one of those "harder" days.  While I hope my life is not fully defined by the grief that I carry or the wound that I fear will never fully heal, I do believe it is a VERY important part of me, one that I will forever be recognized by and one that I proudly carry, because it eternally connects me to my precious son.

Gabriel, Isabelle and I spent a great amount of time today outside in the sun.  I searched the sky for a sign from my son, I begged Noah, please let me know you are here with us.  I didn't see a rainbow, and I'm getting good at reminding myself, signs from Heaven don't come on my timeline.

As raw as the pain in missing Noah feels, it also seems like the days since he's passed have been long. I will never get over the sadness I feel in losing him, I long to feel his touch one more time, to watch his chest rise and fall with each breath and to kiss his forehead, if only for one more time.

The reality I live in tells me that in this life, I will never get to do that.  So I push down those feelings that create tears streaming down my face, and I try to smile at the feelings I'm experiencing inside my stomach at this moment.

Baby girl resting comfortably against her arm

Today marks the beginning of week 30.  Such a huge milestone, I feared I never would reach.  Baby girl seems to be growing and thriving and I continue to give great thanks for each moment we share.  She's starting to run out of room and some nights I feel like my stomach can't stretch any further, and yet, I pray it does.  I love to watch my stomach move on its own as she moves her hand across my belly, kicks her legs to one side and has the hick-ups.  It is in those moments that I feel such a rush of love, of joy, of gratitude that I get to experience this again.   I can't imagine loving her anymore and yet I know the minute my eyes see hers as she takes her first breath, my heart will grow again as my love for her multiplies.

She wasn't much for pictures of her face this week, but we did get a cute shot of her ear.

Oh and that heartburn I've been getting to experience, is in part due to the fact she's got a good amount of hair.  Who knew you could see hair on an ultrasound.  That white stuff in the center, yep that's her hair!- Dad's very excited about that!

The journey we are on is filled with so many opposite emotions.  How can I feel so much joy and love for this baby girl we pray we meet in 10 weeks, while at the same time mourning the time we are not getting to have with our son?  Never could I have dreamed my life story would be what it is today.  I guess I wouldn't have wanted to know, even if given the chance.  Each challenge, every celebration and every blessing I've gotten has shaped me into the person I am today.

At 30 weeks pregnant and 9 months in mourning, I press on.... with open wounds but countless blessings and the promise of hope in what's to come.

Until next time
angie