She’s how big?

Earlier this week, Tuesday, we went in for our weekly ultrasound to make sure “Sweetie Pie” is doing well and still exceeding at her exercise routine (of stretching, breathing, having enough fluid and well, whatever else she’s supposed to do).  This was also the week where we got to measure her again, to see how much she weighs.   The last time we did this was 4 weeks ago at 32 weeks and back then, our little chunky monkey weighed in at 5 lbs, 4 ounces.  In the weeks since we’ve had a few good shots of her packing on the pounds, well, right along with me, if I’m being honest.  Almost like a bear preparing for hibernation,  I’ve been wondering if our little sweetie pie is doing the same.  In the last couple of weeks, we’ve been able to see her double chin, her baby fat roll along her wrist and Tuesday we saw our precious little one has back rolls too.  Our friend MaryBeth tried to get a 4D image of her rolls… saying, “well I’ve never done a 4D image of that, but let’s try it.”  She’s just so darn cute and I can’t wait to kiss those chubby cheeks and hold those puffy hands.  Baby girl’s belly is shaped almost like mine, definitely protruding out below her ribcage. Guess that’s one way she’s taking after her momma.

As much as I joke about how filled out she is, the truth is, I’m just so darn excited to meet her, I can’t wait to kiss every ounce of her.  I’ve fallen in love with her a million times over and this momma can’t wait to lay her eyes on the miracle I’ve been carrying around.  Last Sunday I stopped the nifedipine and also on Tuesday I received my final progesterone injection.  It was so strange to hear Bethany, my home healthcare nurse explain that she would be discharging me from their program and her final correspondence with me would be a phone call in a couple of weeks after the baby is born.  It was so surreal to hear those words.  Since week 16, she had been coming to my house, asking me about the baby, giving me information and helping us to prevent pre-term labor.  And now here we are, almost to full term, and being discharged.  Just how can it be?  One of my biggest hopes, to carry this baby to full term, has become a reality.  It’s still so hard to believe. 

Her foot.

Long fingers

I’m trying now to prepare myself for what labor will be like.  Last time, with Noah, everything happened so quickly, despite having been in bed for a week, that I didn’t have time to worry about labor.  It was just as fast as, “we think Noah’s under stress, it’s time for him to come out”. And a few hours later, he was born.  Now, with no idea of “when” it will start, or how long it will last, and the fact that baby girl is “HUGE”, I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit scared.  I’ve tried to tell myself this can be like a marathon.  A marathon isn’t easy, it takes a lot of mental toughness, and physical endurance but after you cross that finish line, you’re so darn thankful you did it.  Having a baby is similar I think.  I know the moment she’s born, crying, cradled in my arms, will make every ounce of pain worth it a million times over. 

Last night as I was getting ready for bed, I asked Dad what he’s most excited for, and he said, “I look forward to us getting to hold her and that she is okay.”  I can see the excitement in his eyes, which makes me even more excited.  So much of this pregnancy has reminded us of Noah, and now we are at a point, of being excited, not as controlled by fear, like we were when we was born.  Dad made it a point last night to say, “As we think about bringing her into this world, we have to remember that her story and Noah’s are different. Her birth  will be very different from his and it’s okay.”  I think we both know that stepping back into that hospital will bring back many hard emotions, that grief will resurface and that as excited as we are, our hearts will always ache we didn’t get to bring Noah home.  And as hard as that reality is, I don’t want her arrival to be shadowed by any bit of sadness.  I want her birth to be a celebration.  Noah’s life was a celebration too, he was and will always be our surprise miracle baby, we were told we’d never have.   Nothing, no one, can take that away from him.  And while he’s not physically with us, he will always be a part of us, and that is to be celebrated too.

Baby Noah, all smashed up inside of me.  His hands are on his forehead and his foot is right in front of his face.  Poor little buddy didn't have much room to move around with such limited fluid.  I'll always cherish these last pictures of Noah, as they were the last ultrasound pictures we have from when he was still inside.  

Baby Noah, on the last ultrasound we had of him before my water broke.  

And so we prepare for a great celebration… We look forward to the joy that will fill us as we meet our daughter for the first time.  For the renewal of our faith, our hope, and the truth that our life is full of so many blessings.  For those moments of pure craziness as we become a household with 4 very active children and two very tired parents.  I am excited for it all.  It’s gonna be crazy, it’s gonna be stressful, no doubt very hard most days…. But its truly the life I want and boy am I excited to see it unfold this way.

Yesterday we got to find out how much our little Sweetie Pie weighs…. At 36 weeks… she’s 7 pounds, 7 ounces of pure love.

Sweetie Pie, we hope you come soon…. Mommy, Daddy and your brothers and sister can’t wait to meet you!

Until next time,

Angie

She asked me about Noah.

Today I met up briefly with a friend from my early days at ASU.  Suzie was one of those friendly faces from day 1 who reached out a hand and offered to help me get a good feel for the lay of the land when I first started at ASU.  Now, 10 years later, we still stay in touch, or happen to randomly meet at the most obscure  places.  No matter how long it has been, or how infrequent we’ve been in touch, it seems we can always pick right back up where we left.

Suzie, I understand follows this blog (thanks Suzie) and is always so great at surprising me with the best inter-campus mail one can receive.  A valentine on February 14, a treat at Halloween, a Sun Devil gift bag full of goodies when we welcomed our boys into our lives, a congratulations card when Noah was born, and a sympathy card soon thereafter… when we lost him.

Now that Suzie and I work at the same campus, we made a point to meet up today for a quick catch up.  It was just like old times.  Her happy, bubbly self that tells you straight how things are, and her genuine caring spirit that makes me always feel so loved and cared for.  In the short time we had today, we tried our best to catch up, it has been a long time.  And while I loved hearing about all she’s been up to, how her life both at ASU and outside of work are, I’ll never forget how she made me feel today.  She asked me about Noah.  In a polite way, she said, “I don’t mean to make you cry, but can I ask you about Noah?”  It was the best question I’ve been asked in many months.  In the second it took me to truly process that someone wanted to really hear about my son, and not just about the tragedy in losing him, my heart doubled in size from love, that comes out of opening that chapter in my life book.

“Of course!” I said.  So excited to share about him.  She said, “Tell me about him.”  I went onto say how he was just like a normal sized baby, only miniature in every way.  I showed her about how big he was in real life, (I explained the pictures always made me think he looked bigger than he was), and how he was so strong.  I shared how the doctors had told us the true hard facts, that he may never survive the birth, but how strong he was not only to make it through that but 12 days after.  Suzie asked about his reflexes, his reactions and I got to share how he’d hold my finger, or grasp Dad’s pinky with his entire hand, just like a full term baby naturally does.  She asked about his hair, and I got to share he had his daddy’s hair color and that he would do the same things full sized babies would do, breath, reach out, turn his head.  I got to share how grateful we are for the 12 days we got to have him and how he was just like a normal baby, so strong, such a fighter, just too little.

In the short conversation we had about Noah, I felt happiness radiate throughout my body.  Sadly, it isn’t very often I get to talk about him that way.  I honestly can’t remember the last time someone asked me to tell them about him.  In the last couple of weeks I’ve met many new people and being very pregnant many people ask me if this baby is my first and when I say no, they ask me how many kids I have.  It’s always such a hard question to answer, because I always want to shout 4, well now 5, but I know the question immediately following the one of how many is, tell me how old your kids are.  And that’s where it gets uncomfortable… not for me, but for others.  So I often just say I have three other children at home.  There have been a few times in meeting new people at work, that it has come out my other children at home are adopted and then they ask about experiencing pregnancy.  I simply say, “I was pregnant last year, and gave birth to a son at 24 weeks. Unfortunately, he passed away and now I’m pregnant with our daughter.  We want nothing more than to bring home a healthy baby.”  I try to focus on our daughter and the fact we want nothing more than to hold our daughter, full of life, in our arms after she is born.  I brush past our loss as quickly as I can because I can always tell it makes most people feel uncomfortable and they don’t know what to say. By focusing on the health baby part, there’s always an easy response, “That is the most important thing.  Good luck to your family.” 

Today in getting to talk about Noah, it was healing, felt amazing to my insides and made me realize just how much I dislike keeping that chapter of my life closed.  I often get to talk about Gabriel, Michael, Isabelle and of course this baby, but less and less frequent do we now share outside the walls of our home about our other child... the one who watches from above, sends signs when he can, and reminds me just how precious life truly is.  

She asked me about Noah and it made my heart so happy. 

Until next time,

Angie

Farewell Nifedipine... Hello 36 Weeks!

Today I woke up with great excitement as I knew I wouldn't have to take those yellow nasty pills.  And boy has it been a great day.   In addition to celebrating that we made it, (we really made it) to 36 weeks, I also celebrated that I didn't have to take any more Nifedipine.  I wanted to take the entire bottle of remaining pills and toss them in the garbage with a forceful toss, but instead stocked them away until I can dispose of them in the correct manner.

Boy am I happy to be off of them.  I can't decide which makes me happier... 36 weeks or NO MORE Nifedipine?  Either way, today was a GLORIOUS day.

It is the first time in, well, I don't know how long, that I can actually say I felt good.  Yes, the contractions are a regular part of my entire day, but I'm in a whole new place.  I'm actually okay with them.  I'm no longer afraid of what the contractions will bring... well, I can't say I'm not slightly terrified of labor, but I know at the end of it, I will have an (almost) full term (or full term) baby that shouldn't have to be in the NICU.  Every minute, hour, (okay let's not hope we have to include days here) that I have to endure labor means I will be that much closer to meeting Sweetie Pie.  We've won the lottery.

Even Jarrett said today, "I'm excited Mom!" as I was washing up the last of the baby clothes we had to get ready.  I'm excited too.

So now we wait and see when she's ready to come.  Meanwhile I finally feel like now that my restrictions have been lifted, I can resume some of the roles I held before.  Today for some crazy reason (okay, maybe its nesting) but I decided we had to clean out the cars... I mean we can't bring home a new baby with a car that's not completely clean inside and out.  Never mind it was in the 90's probably today, Michael, Isabelle and I were out there washing out the inside of the car, washing the windows, vacuuming out the crumbs and making sure it was all spotless.  Now that that's done, I'm feeling like my to do list before she comes, is getting down to stuff that really can wait if its has to.

In addition to feeling actually good today, we had a very nice family day.  Dad stayed home and we spent some of the day cleaning the house and tidying up, but the rest of the day playing.  The kids went "swimming" - if you can call it that.  Our pool is currently out of order until tomorrow when they come to fix it, but the kids decided they just "HAD" to go swimming so they went to plan B.  How many kids can you fit into a baby pool?  FOUR.  Just in case you wanted to know.

And what was even more surprising is that they had a ton of fun, that is after we moved it out into the sun because they were freezing when we had it under the covered patio.  We sure have thin blood here.  But they played, splashed around, pretended like it was summer and actually got along.  It was glorious.

Michael thought it was a tad cold getting in at first!

And Gabriel got his turn at being splashed with the cold water too.  

Afterward we decided to watch a family movie and grilled out.  It was such a nice, low key afternoon and as we sat at the table together, I pictured what it will be like, with one more little person chiming in, telling stories, chomping down food and adding to our normal craziness we all love.  Our table I realized it probably going to be too small, it's actually too small now for us as a family of 5, but we make it work.  And we'll probably make it work as we add one more person around the table.  I'm so excited for it.

And now I sit here tonight reflecting on how far we've come.  Nine months ago, this journey to "Sweetie Pie" started and while I prayed, hoped and wished more than anything we'd get to this point, there were several times I doubted it actually was going to happen.  But now here we are... all those hopes, prayers and wishes, a reality.  We feel so blessed.

So here's to beginning week 36... just like we've done since day 1 of knowing about baby girl, we'll take this week, one day at a time too.  Who knows when her birthday will come, but boy are we so excited to meet her.

Until next time,
Angie

Why am I still so scared?

Today I sat in my doctors office, for a non-stress test for the baby.  I was hooked up to several cords, and listened as baby girl's heart beat aloud on the machine next to me.  In my hand I held a small remote with a button at the top and was instructed to push the button each time I felt her move.  It had been my third week in a row of having the non-stress test, so I was well aware of what to do and expect.

At first baby girl was somewhat active, moving around with slight movements from one side to the next, but soon I realized she must have fallen asleep as she stayed still while her heart beat rhythmically.

This was the second non-stress test I had had in less than 12 hours.  See last night, in the middle of the night, Jarrett and I made a trip to the hospital for the exact same reason.  As each and every night for the last several months has been I was up my usual 7, 8, 10, 12, maybe even 15 times to go to the bathroom, to drink more water, to toss and turn.  And with each time I get up, my routine of going back to "sleep" is the same.  Rub my stomach, wait to feel her move, nudge or shift inside even so slightly before I allow myself to drift back to sleep.

Last night was no different in my routine, except from 11:30 ish until 1:00ish I couldn't get her to respond.  At first I thought, well she must be alseep, and I almost fell back asleep until I realized I hadn't felt her.  So I jiggled my belly, rubbing it back and forth.  That will jostle her I thought.  Nothing.  Then I reached for my water bottle with ice still in it and took a big gulp.  I laid back down and waited... nothing.  Hmmm, I thought, that's strange, she's usually so responsive.  I laid there and began to stew.  I tried to tell myself it was all okay, but sadly couldn't control the thoughts racing through my mind.

I reached over across the bed to try and wake Jarrett.  He was no where to be found.  I called out his name.  JARRETT.  Nothing.  Then I got out of bed worried.  I looked for a light on outside our room, perhaps he was still working.  No light on.  I walked out into the hallway and called his name.  Finally he responded and I could tell he was still half asleep.  "What are you doing on the couch?"  I said still trying to control my panic and worry, while trying to reassure myself, it was all okay.  Jarrett responded saying I was snoring too loud and he couldn't get to sleep.  I was too worried to laugh at his obviously "wrong" statement  (I don't snore... even though I've packed on several pounds and am wholly sure I'm probably a snoring machine).

Jarrett, I interrupted him, "I can't get the baby to move, I'm really scared."  He, at this point, had sat up and was rubbing his eyes while I turned on several lights.  "Mom, I"m sure everything is okay.  She's probably just sleeping.  Why don't you drink some juice and lay down, she'll probably move."  I followed his direction, pouring a glass of OJ, knowing full well, I'd pay for the acidity later.  I laid back down, rubbed my belly again to agitate her and waited for a response.  After about 10 minutes, I had had enough... no response and my fear was through the roof.  "I want to go to the hospital to make sure she's okay."

Jarrett, hearing my request, didn't argue or question, but immediately got on the phone and we started calling on our "on-call" family to help come over to stay with the kids.  Twenty minutes later we were headed out the door.... I grabbed our hospital bags on the way out.  Not knowing how this trip would turn out, I wanted to be prepared.

Driving to the hospital, I continued to rub my stomach, while Jarrett attempted to make small talk.  I couldn't focus on anything but getting her to move.  A few miles away from the hospital, I finally felt a subtle movement and hoped it wasn't my mind playing tricks on me, but really was her moving.  I told Jarrett I thought I felt her.  We both decided we wanted to still go to the hospital... we've learned getting peace of mind is priceless.

Despite the full moon and everything you hear about that with hospitals and labor, the parking lot seemed quiet.  And thankfully, when we arrived at OB triage, there wasn't very many people and when I told the registration lady I was there because of decreased fetal movement, she had me registered and in a room within 3 minutes.

Denise, a nurse we had had previously with Noah, appeared in our room and asked what was going on.  I explained I was scared because baby hadn't been moving as much as normal, and she was completely reassuring, telling me it was great we had come in.  She pulled out the equipment and was soon picking the ideal place to put the monitor on my stomach.  As soon as she placed it on the center of my stomach, we heard the most beautiful sound.  Seriously, Denise even said it, "Isn't that the most beautiful sound in the world?" It was baby girl's heartbeat... steady, strong and just as they want it.  I immediately felt relief and said "thank you."  Denise said, "It is my pleasure, if only my entire night was filled with great couples who wanted to come in and hear their precious baby's heartbeat, it would be a great night."  Again I felt relief that the decision we made to come in, wasn't being judged, that it was always better to be safe, and that the most important thing was baby girl is okay.

Twenty minutes later, after we had listened carefully and watched the monitors we were on our way back home.  Yes we had lost several hours of sleep (well actually it was probably only about 45 minutes of sleep I would have missed), and we sadly bothered/interrupted our family's sleep, but the fear that had ravaged my insides was silenced.  That was worth every dollar and sacrifice of inconvenience and sleep for me.

Sitting back in Dr. A's office hooked up to the monitors I glanced over at my phone to see it had been 26 minutes I had been hooked up.  I watched as each contraction was recorded on the paper, along with baby girls' heart rate.  A few minutes later Dr. A's nurse appeared in the room, took one glance at the paper and said, "Don't you feel her move?"  I said, "I think she's fallen asleep."  She said, "Oh well, I'm going to leave you on for a bit longer, and we're gonna try to wake her up."  She placed some sort of contraption next to my stomach, pushed a button that made some sound in several places, and said, "that should wake her up."  She then disappeared out of the room again.  I texted Jarrett to give him an update, "Baby's heartbeat is good, but she's not moving very much again.  They are keeping me hooked up to the monitors for a while longer." I tried not to worry. I waited for baby girl to move.... nothing.  I tried to rub my stomach in places, where she usually has her arm or her leg.  In my mind I said, "Come on baby girl... wake up."  Ten more minutes went by and finally I felt her move slightly in my lower stomach.  I pushed the button and a few more times I felt her.  Push push push... I wanted to be sure each movement was recorded.  After 47 minutes of being hooked up to the monitor. Dr. A's nurse finally disconnected me and moved me to an exam room. She said, "Dr. A is okay with the last movements we've seen."  Again I tried to push the fear down and away.

I sat in Dr. A's office, looking out the window, waiting for him and told myself, "we've made it."  I'm two days away from 36 weeks and Dr. A said all along, "We're gonna get you to 36 weeks, I believe it."  In the few minutes it was before he appeared inside the room, I reflected back on the past 9 months.  What a transformation I've gone through.

Nine months ago, I remember waking up in the morning with little to no will to go throughout the day and did my best just to find a means to get through.  I remember forcing myself to read the card that still is plastered on our bathroom mirror.  It was the card Melanie had given me when I confided in her about just how devastated and destroyed I felt I was after losing Noah.

It was one of the first things I saw in the morning and many days it was questioned more than believed.  Melanie had given it to me after she had used it herself after going through a hard time and she told me, "Angie I know you will get through this too.  I believe in you... be strong.  You can do this.  Don't give up."  I didn't have much faith left in the world, but I knew she was one of many who had faith in me, so I continued to try.

And then we found out about "Sweetie Pie" and the emotional marathon of emotions began again.

This is the night I told Jarrett, we were pregnant again.  Such a healing moment.  And still so much fear.

And with each week of this pregnancy that passed, we allowed ourselves to believe a little bit more.  While working through the grief in losing Noah, of finding a way to always have him be a part of our lives, and to honor him in the life we lead here.

With each month that passed, I felt myself coming out of a dark tunnel, sometimes sneaking back inside when the fear became too great, the doubt overwhelming, but still somehow finding a way to take one more step forward.

Through scares with the baby... when they couldn't find her heartbeat at what was supposed to be 8 weeks (why my due date is backed up almost 10 days) and they thought the pregnancy didn't take (something I've never shared before), or at 22 weeks when my weekly ultrasound showed that I was headed again for pre-term labor and put on bedrest, or the constant contractions and fear of my water breaking again.  So many scary moments, so many moments fear raged its ugly head.  But here we are... almost 36 weeks, with a healthy baby, a strong heartbeat and a team of doctors who believed in us, in her, the whole time.

What a transformation is right I thought, just as Dr. A appeared at my side, saying as he always has, "So nice to see you."  He smiled, "Look where we are today!"  He showed me on his computer.... 35 weeks, and 5 days.... two days away from 36 weeks! Incredible."  I smiled, and told him just how grateful I am for all he has done to get us here.  He said, "I believed we were going to make it here, although we had to fight for everything didn't we."

He went on to share with me that in two days I can stop taking the Nifedipine and the new instructions for when I go to the hospital... when I"m in active labor.  And that they won't stop it.  If she's born now, her lungs will be good and that we can celebrate.  He then went onto say, that while their office has a team of doctors and usually the doctor on call will deliver, he said, "if its okay with you I'd love to be there when you deliver and your daughter is born.  He then reached for my cell phone on the chair next to him, handed it to me and said, "I'm going to give you my cell phone number... you call or text me when you are in labor and I'll meet you at the hospital."  I was deeply touched.  I said, "We'd feel very honored if you were there.  Thank you for offering to be there in this special time for us."  Again, I can't speak enough about just how wonderfully we've been cared for by our team of doctors.

As I left Dr. A's office he said, "I don't think you're going to have this baby for another couple of weeks."  He continued, "I'm taking my kids to Disneyland at the end of next week, so I'll be gone from Thursday til Sunday, but then I"m back and I'll be available for your call."  I smiled and said, "Sounds great."

Leaving Dr. A's office this morning, I realized throughout this journey I've gone through a huge transformation, finding joy and happiness in life, a reason to look forward to the future and through that a reason to keep living.  This baby has brought me back to life and taught me its okay to live here in the now and that while I long to be with my son Noah, that, that day will come, but until then I need to be here.  I've also found that Noah continues to remind us that he's here... in a different way than what I wanted or planned... he's still here.

While I've received reassurances and confirmation that everything is okay, I find myself still being scared.  I think its the trauma of what we've lived through.  Is there anything worse than losing a child?  I don't know, but my guess is losing two children would have to be.  I think that's why I'm still so scared of what could happen.  I tell myself that I'll never fully breathe a sigh of relief until my living, breathing, full of life daughter is in my arms crying out in a beautiful newborn cry.  At that moment, the sound of her heartbeat inside of me will transform from being the most beautiful sound.... and be replaced with the beautiful sound of her tiny cry.  For I know then that this journey of pregnancy will be over and a new journey will begin.  I'm confident that the new journey will include fear, but that's a new phase and a new challenge I look forward to.

Until then, I'm gonna hold onto my faith that we will bring home a healthy Sweetie Pie and that all is gonna be okay.  Oh and in case I needed one more sign of reassurance, I just got it tonight.

 See that around the full moon....

 Yes, the picture doesn't do it justice... but it's a full rainbow around the moon.  My friend Sonya texted me just as Jarrett got home from Gabriel's baseball game.  They both had the same message... "This is gonna sound strange, but there is a rainbow around the moon."  Dad said.  

Sonya said, "It appears there is a rainbow around the moon.  Bizarre right?  My first thought was maybe its pollution, but then I was like, what if its baby Noah?  Even in darkness God sends us light and rainbows."  

I couldn't have said it any better myself.  Even in the darkness of fear and being so scared, there's always a rainbow of hope present.. we just have to open our eyes to see it.  

Until next time,
angie

35 Weeks and 3 days....

I write today 35 weeks and 3 days pregnant. I sound like a broken record but I'm so grateful to be here.  I feel like we've officially hit the "Okay baby come anytime" part of this pregnancy I was so worried I never thought I'd get to.

On Sunday when the calendar turned over to another milestone, I sat in church and reminisced about many Sunday's prior when I begged God to let us get to another week.  Sunday I sat there and prayed, "Thank you God for letting me get to a point where I believe we will be able to bring Sweetie Pie home."

Yesterday we went in for our weekly ultrasound and was so happy to hear that baby is doing well.  She's officially running out of room but she's still finding a way to maneuver, stretch and practice breathing.  She's been very active despite the continuous contractions and I'm so thankful for that.

Friday I'll meet with Dr. A and if all goes as we have planned right now, I will be released from taking the loads of Nifedipine I've been consuming every 4 hours for the last several weeks.  I look forward to the relief of feeling like I'm finally over the flu, even if it means the contractions will become stronger and more frequent.  Maybe I'll be eating my words next week, but as of today... I pray I feel even a little relief from the flu-like symptoms that medicine give me.

Yesterday at the ultrasound we learned the amniotic fluid level went back down from 27 to 22.5.  While still high it isn't moving any higher so we were happy to hear that.  We also learned that baby is head down with her face toward my spine... I guess that's the ideal birthing position, so glad to know she's getting ready too.

I tell myself these days to cherish each and every movement baby girl makes inside of me as I know I'll come to miss those jabs and swipes of her hand.  I can tell she's running out of room as some days it feels like her feet and arms are literally reaching around to my back, one on each side.  And some days, I can literally see her hand or foot swipe the side of my body.  Such a cool feeling inside, but just as awesome to watch on the outside.

As much as I cherish these moments, I eagerly look forward to meeting her in person.  I wonder so much if she'll look exactly like the weekly ultrasound pictures we get to see of her, or if her features will be different in person than what can be seen on a screen.  Either way, we are completely smitten with her and all of us are so excited to meet her.

As I conclude for tonight, (sorry I'm so tired I haven't slept well lately), I just want to voice how grateful we are for the community of love and support that has carried us through the last many months.  There have been so many of you who have followed along with us on this journey, have prayed for us daily, cheered with us as each week passed and who have given us strength to keep going amidst the fear.  For that we are so grateful and want you to know we will never forget what you've done, what you've given to us.

This past week we were reminded again about just how much our little Sweetie Pie is loved.  Jarrett's colleagues and my new colleagues showered us wonderful celebrations to rejoice with us.

How lucky we have been to receive such kindness, love and support.  This baby has received so much love and she hasn't even officially made her first appearance.

We will be sure to keep the blog updated in the coming days and weeks.  I hope to be able to share the news of her arrival on her as soon as we can.  Thanks for following along with us.

We look forward to sharing her arrival with all of you, very soon!

Until next time,
Angie

Baby Noah's Song...

Last Thursday, Isabelle and I spent the day together.  It just happened that Jarrett's wonderful colleagues held a congratulations luncheon for us at his work and invited Isabelle and I to come join them. 

My little buddy.. us girls have to stick together.

So on Thursday mid-morning Isabelle and I loaded up in the car and started the trek downtown to dad's work.  Lately we've been noticing Noah's "presence" with us when we are in the car as it seems we can't turn on the radio lately without the song "Stand up and Dance" playing.  Its become such a regular occurrence all of us have noticed it at different times and made comments individually. 

On a short tangent, I love it.  It makes me so happy to hear that song and usually we crank up the volume and all of us sing along.  I wonder if it is because we've been spending more time together as a family in the car.  Prior to Dad and I carpooling, we usually split up each morning, one of us taking the kids to drop off and the other raced off to work.  Now that we all go as a family, I wonder if our "signs" are coming more in the car since we are all together.  Could just be me putting two unrelated pieces of information together, or it could be just our little boy letting us know, he's never too far away.  As a mother living with the reality her child is in Heaven, I choose the last option... it makes me happy and brings me peace... so what harm is there in believing it.

Anyway, back to last Thursday... As I turned on the car and started backing out of the drive, "Stand Up and Dance" came on to which Isabelle shouted from the seat behind me, "Mom, it's baby Noah's song."  I love that she calls it that.  I said, "Yes Isabelle and turned up the volume."  Driving down the road we sang together until the song came to an end and the radio announcers came back on the radio.  Isabelle got quiet, I turned the radio volume back down, and at first I thought she was listening to them talking.  I was wrong.  A few seconds later she said, "Mom, where is Baby Noah?"

I paused for a moment (we have had this question before), to decide the best way to answer it.  I said, "Isabelle, Baby Noah is in Heaven." 

"Mom, how did Baby Noah get to Heaven?"  She asked.
In trying to come up with an answer that is understandable and age-appropriate for a 4 year old, I said, "Honey, when Baby Noah was so sick, God decided it was better for Baby Noah to live with him in Heaven than here with us." 

"But how did he get there Momma?"  With each question, the sadness in my heart unraveled throughout the rest of my body.  How unfair is it that I have to explain such a deep concept to my daughter of all of 4 years.
 I asked God in my brain again... "Why?"  but there was no response.  I realized Isabelle wanted a specific picture of how Noah got to Heaven.  So I tried a different approach.  "Honey, I think God sent an angel to carry baby Noah to Heaven so he could be there with God." 
"But Mom, why did God want baby Noah to be with him?"  My hormones along with not sleeping that well, and the fact that it is still so hard to accept that Noah is gone, made it almost impossible to hold back the wall of tears waiting to flow freely.
 "Isabelle, I don’t know why God wanted baby Noah to be with him instead of us.  But honey we have to know Baby Noah is okay and he probably loves living in Heaven with Jesus."  I wiped the tears away as I pulled onto the freeway.  I told myself, I can't drive safely with watery eyes, so think about something else.

Isabelle, seemed to accept my answer of an angel carrying him away, as she was quiet for a few more seconds. I looked at her in the rear view mirror and she was looking over at the infant car seat next to her.  Moments later she said, "Momma, where is baby Noah gonna sit when Sweetie Pie comes?"  I wasn't sure what to say, how to respond or even how to react.  I wasn't even sure how to take her question.  For a minute I thought, "Well she must think that seat is for Noah.  But why would she ask it in that way? It was almost as if she was telling me well, he's there now, but what happens when my baby sister comes along?  Fumbling around with my words, ah, um, well....  Isabelle eventually chimed back in and said, "He can sit by me."    I decided her answer to her own question was perfect.  I simply said, "Belle, that's nice of you to let him sit by you." 

I sat quietly for a few minutes after Isabelle's comment and kept glancing back at her in the mirror as we drove to dad's work.  She seemed so happy, looking out the window and back at the baby seat next to her.  I wondered.  She's always seemed to have a special connection to Noah... I wish so much I could hear and see what she thinks and feels.   Could it be, just maybe, her and her brother are connected in ways, us adults (or me) are too blind to see?

Rounding the airport almost to Dad's work, my mind drifted back to the NICU and of those precious days with my little boy.  He was such a fighter, so beautiful and such a gift.  I relieved the specific moments of each day as I drove. As the exit for Dad's work approached, I glanced again back at Isabelle as a new song on the radio started playing.... I recognized it right away and moments later I heard Isabelle scream with excitement from behind me, "Momma- It's Baby Noah's song again!"

In life sometimes there are no answers.  Why my son, our miracle baby, the one we were told we would never conceive, was born at 24 weeks, had to leave us 10 days later?  I'll never find an answer that I'll be okay with.  There are no answers.  And the truth is, as much as I want answers, I know the answer would not take away the pain, sadness or loss I feel.  So I'm accepting it as what it is.

Instead I choose to look at this life for what I can see, for what I feel.  Why "Stand Up and Dance" became "Baby Noah's Song" I don't know.  What I do know is that Isabelle decided to adopt it as our family song with a connection to her brother and that each time we hear it, we think of him and feel happy.  What I also know is that, my daughter, has a connection to her little brother, the brother she only met once. 

 A connection that is deeper than I'll ever be able to understand.  A bond so great, it transcends any earthly answer.  Sometimes in life there are no answers.  And that's not a bad thing. 

Until next time,
Angie

I put snakes in their beds...

One of my favorite days of the year is April 1st.  I've been known to play a prank or two in my day.  It started back in college when my friend Mandi would pull pranks on me.  One year she taped up saran wrap over my bedroom door in such a way it was invisible after I had gone to sleep.  And in the middle of the night when I got up to go to the bathroom, I was scared out of my mind when I walked into something I couldn't see, but could definitely feel.

Then after Jarrett and I got married we started pulling innocent pranks on each other.  And then when we moved to Arizona we pulled a prank on our family the first year, and pretended Jarrett was attacked by aggressive Arizona moles that lived in the backyard of my grandparents home where we were living.  We scratched up Jarrett's legs (we were serious about our pranks) and wrapped his legs in bandages and called my parents back in Iowa to tell them we were headed to urgent care as Jarrett had been injured.  The prank worked perfectly and we had many people believing us, that indeed there were moles that lived in the desert and indeed they were very dangerous.  Our family totally fell for it and as we peeled back Jarrett's bandages to show them his perfectly preserved legs, they realized the date and we shouted, "April Fools!"

I've pulled a few pranks on the boys to the point that they are now suspicious when the date comes around. Here's a video from two years ago when I told the boys I broke my leg after I was in a bicycle accident on my way home from work...

This year, when the calendar turned to April 1st, they were on their game ready for any possible prank I was about to pull.  To their luck, I wasn't feeling very well that day, to the point where I decided my pranks were gonna have to wait.

That is until last night....earlier in the week I had to run to the candy store to pick up a special treat Jarrett asked me to get and when I walked in the door of the candy place, I immediately saw these...

Yes, those are 3 foot long gummy snakes.  And they look pretty real (even with the plastic wrap on them).  The minute I saw them, I had an idea and decided I just HAD to buy them.  So I did.

I then came home, removed the packaging as much as I could without opening them and then I carefully placed them in the boys' bed...

After placing them in a way where I knew the boys would definitely feel them the minute they climbed under the covers, I then carefully placed their top blankets over top...

 See can't tell... and I was even purposeful in making sure I didn't make their bed "too" good or they would know something was up.

Then I waited all afternoon, and evening until the boys came home.  We ate dinner, got ready for bed and I grew more and more excited for bedtime.  Jarrett and the boys disappeared into their room to read The Hobbit as they do most nights and I went into Isabelle's room to read to her before bed.  As I read to her, I listened with one ear waiting for them next door to get to the point when it was time to crawl under their covers.

A few pages before the end of Isabelle's book, I heard Gabriel scream in a voice about 3 octaves higher than Isabelle's highest voice, and then I smiled.  I knew exactly what had just happened.
About 30 seconds later, both boys appeared outside of Isabelle's room with their snakes hanging from their arms... "Thanks Mom for the candy snake." they said.  Followed by "You scared the freak out of me."  I started laughing and said, "You're welcome.  Now its time for bed.  They both went back to their room with their snakes and laughed for a few more minutes.

While it was April 14, I felt I had continued my tradition of pulling an innocent prank on them.
Today when I picked up the boys they said, "Mom, we told all our friends, you put snakes in our bed."  Oh what their friends must think...

Until next time,
Angie

So this happened today...

Yep, I may have won the lottery when it comes to husbands.... for week's I've been begging him to help me paint my toenails.  The last time I painted them was last October and sadly the remnants of that paint job was still on my toes as of a few days ago.

With the warmer weather coming and the desire to wear sandals, I finally decided this morning I was going to find a way to paint them.  So I hemmed and hawed, shifted my self from side to side, turned every which way and finally decided to prop one leg up on the tub as I attempted to bend over the basketball in my stomach.  I got through one light coat of paint and decided that was enough.

I couldn't finish a second coat no matter how hard I tried to contort my body in the perfect position.  That's when Jarrett willingly bent over on the ground and attempted his first pedicure paint job.

I tried to offer advice of how to paint as I knew it was his first time.  I said paint from the top of the toe straight out.  Instead he painted left to right across my toe.  I thought to myself, how do I explain to him in terms a guy wound understand.  I thought about bringing up Mr. Miyagi from Karate Kid and the whole "wax on, wax off scene", but thought I better not press my luck.  So I sat quietly and let him work his magic.

A few minutes later, only one spill of toenail polish on the tile floor and about half of the skin around my toes painted; we were done.  I was thrilled... cross off one more item on my "nesting" list of things to do before baby comes.   Because really, who wants to give birth without having pretty toenails? :-)  I joke, seriously, looking pretty is the last thing on my list of things to worry about when labor kicks in.

My birth plan... show up, ask for an epidural, beg Kristal (my wonderful nurse and now friend) to help me through, squeeze Jarrett's hand with the same amount of pressure each contraction makes me feel and rejoice as our daughter is born.  That's my plan,which will probably change anyway when the time comes... so who cares about my toes.

But seriously, Dad earned some major kudos points today.  So thankful for his support!

Until next time,

Angie

10 Months....

Ten months ago today our precious Noah celebrated his birthday.  Oh what a special day (actually night) it was.  He was everything we dreamed he would be and more.

And not a day, nor an hour since his birth has passed that he hasn't been in my mind and in my heart.  As we look forward to the future and what it may bring, the reality will always exist, that my heart feels incomplete and that I will always miss my little boy.

In the 10 months it has been since Noah was born, we (all of us) have become different people.  His life, his presence, his small, but powerful spirit changed us in a way that make us forever different.  I'm okay with that, I am better off because of him.  

Noah and his short life taught me that what we have here is temporary, he reminds me what really matters, and he gives me courage to not be afraid of things I previously would have feared.  Noah also continues to give me something to look forward to.... to the day when I will meet him again.  I dream of that day, long in the future.  As an elderly woman who has done what she was put on this earth to do.  I dream that he will come, take my hand as its time to leave, and hopefully lead me to Heaven.  It might be morbid for others to read about the dream I have, but for me, it gives me peace.  For on that day, I will get to know my son, the son I had to say goodbye to too soon.

Until that time, that day long in the future, I have accepted the reality that I must be patient, that Noah will wait for me, for us and that my focus for my family and children here is my current duty... a role I happily accept and live for each day.  

As much as I wish I could feel his strong presence by my side each and everyday, I know he is with me.  Somedays I feel him more than others.  This past weekend I was reminded that his legacy continues, not just in my heart but in the minds and hearts of others who were shaped by his life too.

Friday night, my dear friend Jane sent me this beautiful picture and the caption...

"I will never ever see a rainbow and not think of Noah and you. :-)"  

Seeing her beautiful picture, I immediately felt happiness in my heart, and then I read her caption.  Understanding that Noah's life had a permanent imprint in her life, makes me find so much peace.  I think in life we all want to make a difference, to matter, to have purpose.  How proud of a mom do I get to be that in a life of only 12 days, my little angel, his life, made a permanent difference.  I feel so honored to be his mother.

And then my cousin Andrea sent this...

"Noah is with us at Country Thunder."  

Isn't that double rainbow beautiful?  Looking at her picture I felt like I was looking up to Heaven with a banner in the sky that says, "I'm always with you Mom."  

The pictures of rainbows from others are like messengers delivering the news Noah knows my heart needs to hear.

Getting those pictures sent to me made me smile and provided me reassurance that while he's gone, he's never fully left us.  And if I needed any more reminders, on Saturday evening, I slipped out of the house to run to Walgreens to pick up my prescription for more contraction medication.  

Walking out of the house, I got into the car, turned to fasten my seat belt when out the window I saw it. 

As small and subtle as it could be, it still stopped me still.  I crawled back out of the car, walked back inside the house and asked Jarrett to come out with me.

I said Jarrett, look, its almost a tiny rainbow reflecting off the sun.  As I looked closer at the clouds it formed on top of, it reminded me of angel wings, and I felt in m heart, it was my tiniest angel saying, "Here I am... Here I am."  

I spoke out loud, "Thank you Noah."  and I proceeded to buckle my seat belt and continued on.  I drove down the street to the end of our block, turned right, went to the stop sign, and looked back again to see the sign from my son.  It was gone and I knew in my heart, what I had just seen was something not intended to last long.  It was him, just saying hi.

Life without my baby in my arms is not the way I would have written our story to play out.  Never would I been able to say goodbye if I wasn't forced to.  And while my heart will forever ache in missing him, in longing for his touch, I've learned to find peace, acceptance in being with my son in other ways.  

Instead of thinking about what he would be doing now at 10 months old, I instead think about how wonderful his life must be in Heaven.  How his presence is with me in other ways and how someday we will hopefully be together again.

Ten months ago today, my son made me a believer that miracles really do happen.  The odds of him making it through all the challenges he faced, and yet he still entered this world with the tiniest of cries and the determination to fight as much as he could, will stay with me forever.

The miracle didn't end when his time here on earth did, the miracle for me continues, as he lives on in me, in my family, in each of us and in so many of you.  

Noah James, Mommy loves you always.  I will miss you forever.  

Until we meet again, part of my heart will be your companion.

Until next time,

Angie

34 Weeks! We made it!

We are officially 34 weeks and 2 days pregnant and still baby girl is swimming around inside of me.   Granted her pool might feel more like a wave pool with the constant contractions I have that she must feel, but hey she's still inside so PRAISE the LORD!

I am so so happy we are here and I think I've finally told myself, okay, let her come now at any time.  Such a paradigm shift from weeks 5-33.  I never thought I'd get here, but the way I feel with constant contractions, to seeing just how big she is, and the reassurance from the doctors that we are in a good place, make me finally ready to say, "Okay little sweetie pie, I'm ready to see your face in real life, other than just the ultrasound." 

As excited as I (and I think Jarrett is too) am to meet her, I go back and forth.  Having just started a new job I would like to have a few more weeks in my new position, before going on leave, as well as to have the full leave over the summer when the other kids will be off of school, would be nice, but I'll take what ever she decides.

As last week wrapped up, I went to my first official Non-Stress Test (NST) appointment where they hooked me up to the monitor and told me to push a button every time I felt her move.  The reality was that I wish I could have pushed a button for each time I had a contraction as that's way more often than she moves.  Luckily, they were already monitoring it and before I was even half way through the NST test the nurse practitioner came in and said, "Do you know you're having consistent contractions?"  I felt like responding, "Um do you know that you're alive?" but since I had just met her and she had no idea about my history, I decided that was really snotty and instead I responded, "Regular contractions."  She said they wanted to monitor me and the baby for a while longer.

After about 10 or so more minutes they came back, disconnected me from the wires and transitioned me to an exam room.  The practitioner returned with the strip of paper that read all the baby's movements along with her heart rate and my contractions.  She reviewed the strip with me and said, "I'd like to check you to make sure with all these contractions you're not going into labor."  She also did another fetal fibernectin test (the one that detects if your body is producing the protein before it goes into labor).  As she checked me she explained that while I wasn't dilating yet, my body was definitely preparing for labor (I'll leave out the specifics).  She also said that my ultrasound earlier in the week showed that I have high levels of amniotic fluid.  Yes, you read that correctly.

After all those weeks of being on Motrin and worrying about the fluid levels being too low (thank God they never were), here we are with the situation of too much fluid.  It's almost comical.  She explained some of the risks associated with too much fluid and mainly said, this probably means you're going to have more contractions.  Just make sure you go to the hospital and get a shot of Terbutaline to slow the contractions if they become stronger and more frequent.  

I left the doctors office with some what mixed emotions... wondering if I should worry about the fluid, if my contractions were going to increase even more than they had been, but mostly I worried about baby.  I just want more than anything to bring home a healthy baby girl.  I don't think I'll ever rest fully until she's in my arms, breathing, alive and healthy.  

Almost as if the nurse practitioner prescribed it, my contractions increased again over the course of the weekend.  I debated going into the ER for the shot, but kept hearing Dr. A's voice in my head... "You're just one of the lucky women who get to have regular contractions."  Each time I questioned what to do, I thought of him and decided to just stick it out.  The contractions are definitely not full on labor contractions, but they aren't the painless braxton hicks ones either.  They are painful, last anywhere from 30 seconds to 2 minutes and shoot pain across my stomach, my lower pelvis and my back.  On Saturday night, I finally decided at 4 a.m. to get up and shower hoping it would  break up the pattern of regularity they were coming in.

Thankfully Nana and Papa stayed with us all weekend, just in case we needed to make a trip to the ER.  We have our crew on-call now, alert to be ready for a middle of the night call at any time.

I've been experiencing the same regularity of contractions since the weekend and therefore I was really excited to return to the doctor today not only for the ultrasound but also to talk to our specialist Dr. E.  Our wonderful friend Marybeth wasn't in the office today as she was moved to another office location to cover a staff member who was out, so we were seen by another ultrasound tech.  She was really nice, but I'd be lying to say we didn't miss our normal weekly conversation with the great Marybeth.  

In today's ultrasound, baby girl was again charged with performing the same activities as last week.  Except last week when she completed them in 4 minutes, this time she wasn't as interested in playing along.  I think she had fallen sleep so we had to force her to wake up.  Eventually she complied with our requests and did her moving, stretching, practice breathing and check of fluid.  When today's fluid was measured I could again see there was an abundance of fluid present.  I prayed that the level had gone down into the normal range.  Instead we learned that the fluid level had increased from last week.  

No wonder I feel so huge!

I recently shared a picture of my belly without a shirt covering it with my sister who responded, "Oh my god!  I can't even believe that. That doesn't even look real."  Now if that isn't a sign your rather large, I don't know what is.  I'd share the same image with all you here, but I'm afraid it would be one of those images you'd have a hard time getting out of your mind... so I'll spare you. 

Back to the story...

I believe they want the levels to be somewhere between 10-20 and currently baby girl is swimming in 27.  Its on the high end but understand it can go even higher (which we don't want).  After the ultrasound Dr. E, (boy do we love this man) came in, greeting us with his normal genuine, caring smile and warm handshake and said, "So nice to see you and I'm so happy to be at this point in the journey with you.  We are at 34 weeks!"  He then went onto explain the causes for the high levels of fluid but was clear in saying he wasn't too worried about them.  He said there are three causes for polyhydramnios (too much fluid)... 1) Gestational diabetes (which you don't have since you passed the test), 2) Baby isn't swallowing (we know she is because we've seen her on several ultrasounds swallowing fluid and she has fluid in her stomach), and 3) We just don't know.... which lucky for you is the best reason and the reason you fall under.  Hearing Dr. E explain it took the worry from my mind.

I then asked him about the contractions and if they hurt the baby.  He said, that they don't hurt her.  He smiled and said, "She's swimming around in all that fluid, she's good."  Hearing that made me feel even better as I was worried throughout the night that all the constant contractions had to be putting her under duress too.

As we finished talking he again said how wonderful it is that we are where we are and that he looks forward to meeting our daughter.  I told him how grateful we are for him and that he helped us get this far.  I fully accredit so much to him, his expertise and the care we were given.  

As we excited the office, which happens to be exactly across the street from Banner Desert where we plan to deliver, I told Jarrett, I'm getting excited to meet her.  He said, "I had a feeling you were feeling that way, since I couldn't convince you to go in for a shot no matter what all weekend."  While our dream is to get to 36 weeks, at this point I feel we've won the lottery and at this point I'm just letting all control go and trusting it will happen when its supposed to.  

I'm feeling like we have everything ready to bring her home.  Her clothes are washed, car seat ready, we've been hauling around my and her hospital bag in the back of our car for weeks now, and now we wait.  What a joyous place to be.

So where ever it is that labor officially starts or my water breaks (speaking of that I'm praying it isn't at work, or church.... well I just hope its at home... I have a feeling its going to be like a tidal wave of fluid.  My optimistic mom said, "Maybe they'll be so much water that she can just slide out with it... isn't that a nice thought").  I will be excited for getting to see our daughter with my own eyes as she takes her first breath.  

What an emotional, healing, life-changing moment that will be.  

Until then, I'm going to cherish each movement in my body I get to feel.  Each jab, slide of her hand, hick-up and kick.  I realize those amazing moments are coming to an end and they are a part of this miracle we've been living as it unfolds.

And until then also, I'm just gonna keep staring at the ultrasound pictures I get each week.  This baby is so loved...

I hope I'm back next week writing about week 35 and the fact that baby is thriving.  Or who knows, maybe I'll be writing sooner to let you know she's arrived.

Stay tuned... exciting things ahead we pray!

Until next time,

Angie