Your "real" mom..

Summer is here and that means schools out, the pools open and the neighbor kids are frequent visitors to play with the boys.  Its wonderful having friends so close by that by the drop of a hat an impromptu party can happen at any given day.

Yesterday was no exception.  Actually it was a special day as one of our beloved neighbors is moving back to Chicago to reunite with their family.  They were brought out here by their Dad's work and now the time has come for them to go back home.  Michael and Gabriel and neighbor Jack have really become great friends and it was a sad day knowing this was the last of the play dates we were going to have (at least for a long while).

I love to listen to the conversations the kids have.  Most of the time I sit in the background and pretend I'm doing something else, while always keeping an open ear to whats going on.  Lots of times their conversations are typical boy stuff... sports, burping, other bodily gasses, what happened with some other kids at school and what cool video game they are most interested in now.  Honestly, not the most interesting stuff; but that isn't always the case.

Yesterday as I sat back at watched them eat the smorgasbord of snacks I'd prepared for them (4 growing boys, its more like a full Thanksgiving meal), I listened to a very interesting conversation. 

 As they mowed down on watermelon, cheese, meat and crackers, Jack turned to Michael and said, "Michael, was your "real" mom homeless?"  Michael and Gabriel looked at Jack and then Michael said, "No," giving pause for a minute.  "My "real" mom has never been homeless."   Continuing on he said, "My real mom is right there." pointed to me and said, "Right mom?"  I sat in the background not interjecting, wanted to know more about how this conversation would continue.  

I knew immediately who Jack was referring to when he said "real" mom and it didn't bother me to know he was NOT talking about me.  I know he didn't mean any disrespect; he was trying to find the right word to inquire about Michael and Gabriel's birth mother but just didn't know how to categorize her.  

I listened carefully as the conversation continued.  Jack said, "Well okay, not your real mom then but your (pause)...."  Michael interrupted, "My birth mom?"  "Yes!" Jack said.  Without hesitation Michael picked up where Jack had left off, almost knowing exactly what question he was asking.  Michael stated, "My birth mom wasn't able to take care of us like she should of.  So we went to live with a foster family until Mom and Dad could buy us."  I started laughing, Michael looked at me like, "Isn't that right mom?"  And I said, "Well Michael, we didn't buy you but everything else is correct."  He laughed then too, "I mean adopted us." to which the four boys around the table all giggled.  Jack then asked, "How many times have you been adopted?"  "Only one Jack, you only get adopted once.  Or at least most people do right mom?"  Still sitting back acting like I was busy, I said, "Yes, you will stay with us forever.  Only adopted once!"  

I was curious how the conversation would continue but in that answer Jack was satisfied with what he had heard and the next topic of conversation was already started, "Look at me!" as Harlan threw a goldfish cracker up in the air and caught it in his mouth.  A new competition for the boys was underway.  

I couldn't help but replay the "real" mom conversation over and over in my mind.  I felt like I was a fly on the wall watching the boys share their story.  While Michael did all the talking, I watched Gabriel's reaction to the questions and wondered why he never uttered a word, letting Michael do all the talking.  I guess if I think back, Jack was asking Michael the questions so maybe that's why he did all the talking.  I was really proud of Michael for his response to Jack's questions (minus the fact he thinks we bought him). :-).  Michael's responses were straightforward, honest and I could tell he was almost proud to say I was his "real" mom.  I have always said I never want the boys (and Isabelle too) to feel different, embarrassed or ashamed of their story; it is a happy one.  Yes, granted they suffered loss of their birth family and that I feel sad for them for that, however, we found each other and if it wasn't for that loss, we all wouldn't have the great life we do.  While I've always felt that way, I want to make sure the boys feel that way too.

Gabriel has always been the one more open about their adoption, about his past and about how thankful he is to have our family.  He continues to be the more emotional one, still walking up out of the blue to give us hugs, to simply say, "I love you mom!"  or "I'm so happy for my family". Michael on the other hand isn't our emotional one.  He doesn't really wear his lovey emotions on his sleeve, and while he asks questions sometimes, most of the times he's just your typical kid, more focused on playing, doing things he wants or fighting with his sister, than being open and forthcoming about his feelings on being adopted.

Hearing Michael's response to the question I am sure they are going to receive over and over in their lives, made me realize, while we make a lot of mistakes in parenting, at least I feel were doing okay in making sure the kids are prepared with how to answer that question and that they are not uncomfortable sharing their story.  

In the last 7 years I've read a lot about adoption and how to help your kids as they grown with understanding their past.  I've also read a lot about what it means to be a "real" mom versus an "adoptive" mom or even a "birth" mom.  And while all those text book definitions are okay, if I had to pick one title I'd like to have most, its the title my middle son gave me yesterday as he sat with his friends.  "That is my REAL mom!"  And without a single word uttered to define what he meant by "real", the simple point of a finger made it clear to everyone in the room.  

"Real" mom-  probably the best title I've ever held.

Until next time,

angie

I am reminded…

Thank you for all the thoughts and prayers.

After posting an update of the scares we’ve been going through lately, we’ve been showered with kind acts of generosity, texts of prayers, phone calls, meals, and support.  I’m so extremely thankful for all the kind gifts we’ve received and while I don’t feel deserving, I am so so grateful.

Last week was hard and while I still feel like I’m living in a limbo land (praying for Thursday’s doctor’s appointment to come quickly), I can’t help but feel encouraged, loved and supported with all the prayers and support.  I shared what our experience has been, not to draw attention to our situation but for the reasons I said last week.  I’ve also said many times, this blog serves as a virtual therapist for me and what our life is like.  To be honest, I had to get all the feelings, the nerves and the anxiety filled thoughts out of my head, even if it was just in telling the details of what has happened.

Since the appointment last Thursday, I have spent the majority of my time drinking water, going to the bathroom and lying on my left side.  I’m hopeful that this Thursday’s appointment will give us good news.  I am thankful that the spotting has stopped and that I continue to feel the baby move.  I find myself relying upon the gentle nudges or the butterfly like swooshes that come every once and a while.  I think of them as the baby’s way of telling me, “Everything’s going to be okay mom.  I’m okay in here.”    The other absolute wonderful thing that happened in the last few days, was that Jarrett got to feel what I get to feel.  Sunday morning, I was lying in bed trying to convince myself to get up, when all of a sudden baby woke up too.  I could feel the kicks on the outside of my stomach so I decided to wake Jarrett up.  I asked him, “Do you want to feel the baby?”  In past weeks when I ask him to feel my stomach to feel the hard lump that is the baby, he often declines saying he doesn’t want to press too hard and hurt the baby.  This time, he reached over his hand, I placed it on my stomach in the place where I had just felt the baby and said, “just wait.”  Not more than a minute later, baby moved and I looked at Jarrett with wide eyes.  “Did you feel that?” I asked.  Just then the baby moved again.  He smiled, I smiled and he said, “Wow, that is so amazing.”   

In a time of being scared and really fearful of what had been happening, the fact that Jarrett got to feel the baby move, something we’ve been waiting and looking forward to, was like the sunshine after a never-ending rainstorm.  So welcomed, so refreshing, and obviously a reminder we have so much to be thankful for.  Keep on moving baby… keep on a moving.

While feeling the baby move is so exciting, and something I keep going back to, to give me encouragement and strength, the last 6 days have been filled with so many other blessings, I couldn’t not mention them here.

First of all, the texts of support… I’m honestly not sure how many people read our blog but after my last post, I learned there must be quite a few.  Within hours of posting what I consider one of my more raw posts, I started getting text message after message.  Friends and family checking in to see if I, if the baby, if we were okay.  Nice messages of support always ending with … Praying for you and the baby.  Or… Sending my thoughts and prayers to you and the baby.     Short messages that mean a mountain of support and kindness I will never forget. 

The calls… I’m so thankful for the phone calls, those to say, “I’m thinking about you; your post made my nervous.”  Those who wanted to check in and send their support across the miles.  I could tell from the sincere tone in their voice, just how concerned but also just how much they cared.  You know who you are… thank you.

The physical offering of support… From my Godmother’s, both of them reaching out to say they wanted to help.  My Aunt Donna calling to say they’d love to host our boys back on their farm in Iowa to give us a break and allow our house to be a little more quiet and calm.  I know the boys would find the opportunity to go back to Iowa and visit the farm to be the highlight of their summer.  Having Donna volunteer to take them for us, means so much.  Donna, I haven’t forgot about your offer- I will be calling you soon! 

And then last night when my other Godmother called and said, “I am worried about you and would be happy to come out for a few weeks to help you.”  My Aunt, Marjory volunteered to put her life on hold, to come out, in the middle of our horribly hot summer no doubt, to give me a rest and care for my family.”  I told her how thankful I was for her offer, that I would talk to Jarrett and let her know today.  Less than 3 hours later she called me back and said,  “I realized the only way to probably get you to say yes is for me to just book a flight and come out.  So I’m looking at flights now and I’d like to book it tonight.”  Just like that, she dropped everything she had going on, and is headed here in just 5 days to stay for a month.  I’m simply overwhelmed by the kindness.

Our close friends… last Friday was my birthday and after my doctor’s appointment on Thursday, I pretty much felt like staying home and crawling in a hole to hibernate while I consumed loads and loads of water.  My friend Janelle texted me the day before my birthday and asked if she could stop over to drop off something on Friday.  It’s always fun to spend time with her so I said of course.  What I didn’t realize is that she and our other close friend Sonya had been planning to have a surprise mini-gathering at our place.  Totally low key, with personal touches to the max, these ladies know just how to brighten up my spirits.  They brought us dinner, cake, cookies, drinks, a very nice birthday gift and flowers.  Additionally Janelle’s husband Jon came along and volunteered to take all the kids swimming so us ladies could catch up inside where it was cool.  It was the most touching and thoughtful birthday gift I could have ever dreamed of.  Getting to talk with them helped me in so many ways.  It took my mind off the guilt of what I felt I had done, made me of so thankful for them, who seem to know exactly what I needed and who so generously showered me with their love.  How do I deserve such wonderful friends?

My Aunt Anita and her family have been extremely supportive.  The minute she found out about our low fluid level scare she brought me over a care package, water flavor drops to add to the 170-200 plus ounces I get to drink a day, a prayer card her mom, my grandmother had shared with her, a loving card and dinner.  She has since brought dinner to our place three nights in the last 6 days.  Additionally, she has extended the call for prayers as I mentioned before, to my grandfather’s sister, a Nun who has the entire priory praying for us.  And finally, she volunteered to take Isabelle for me last Saturday morning on a playdate, while Dad and the boys were gone, giving me the entire morning to rest.   These generous acts that mean so much.

And my in-laws.  I’m not sure how to repay them.  They have been there for us since early on, helping me with meals, with the kids when I was too sick to be able to crawl out of bed or to stomach making a meal for them.   They have been there for us in more ways than I can ever recount.  From the small (or not so small things) of sweeping the floor, wiping the fan blades, meeting the repair man for this broken thing or that broken thing, and keeping track of the kids for us.  Their support is like that Mastercard commercial…priceless.

 It wasn’t until last night when I laid in bed last night that I physically felt the stress leaving my body.  As I thought about my aunt flying here in a few days and how she will be around to help me on the days when I’m home with the kids and Jarrett’s at work.  As I thought about the fact that the kids have Summer Academy, Swimming Lessons, Swim Team, baseball and then the time at home, that I realized how nice it will be to have an extra hand.  As I thought about the evening we had just finished and how my mother and father in law have stopped their life (in the middle of moving to a new house and the fact that they are supposed to be enjoying retirement now), to be at our house 3 or 4 days a week to help.  From giving Isabelle a bath, to walking the dog, making meals for the kids and us, doing the laundry, you name it.  I basically come home to find that they are running the house.  I get to eat dinner and go lay on the couch.  How spoiled am I? 

And so in the middle of what seems like a very stressful time, I am reminded.  I have so so much to be thankful for.  I have so many blessings.  From a family who supports from close and afar, for friends who send a loving text, place a caring phone call or show up in perfect timing to brighten one’s day. I continue to pray that Thursday brings us good news about the baby and the fluid levels.  I pray my efforts to drink 200 ounces of water a day, provide enough fluid to replenish what the medication decreased and that the ultrasound shows a very active and fluid submerged swimming baby. 

I pray.  I am thankful, and I am reminded… just how blessed I am.

Until next time,

Angie 

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

Saturday, May 30th.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until next time,
Angie

Week 14 The secret is out…slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Highlights of the week:

How far along are you? 14 weeks 5 days

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

Total weight gain…  I have no idea.

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

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

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

Movement… Nope

Food cravings… nothing

Food aversions… STILL EVERYTHING ELSE

Belly button in or out… In

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

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

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

Until next time,

Angie

Week 13…The secrets out, almost!

April 3, 2015

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Gabriel's shirt

Michael's shirt

 Isabelle's shirt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

How far along are you? 13 weeks  6 days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Food aversions… EVERYTHING ELSE

Belly button in or out… In

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

Until next time,

Angie

A Perfectly Simple and Absolutely Gorgeous Wedding!

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

Back to the details of the reason for my trip.  

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

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

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

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

 A family shot with Mom and Dad added in.  

THE HAPPY COUPLE

 I love this picture of them!

  Kacee and Jonas with my parents

Kacee and Jonas with both sets of parents

 Jonas, Kacee and Grandpa Ray.  

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

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

 A quick family shot. 

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

THE CEREMONY

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

 After exchanging the rings...

 and saying their vows...

 It was time to kiss the bride!

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

Congratulations to the new Mr. and Mrs!

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

Until next time,

Angie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until next time,

Angie