Our Sweet Tooth

Baby girl is already in her fourth month of life and has a lot of bows to show for it. Her latest accomplishment, though?

Welcoming her first tooth!

Big brother couldn't be more proud. Mommy and Daddy are pretty in love with her, too. And don't even get me started on the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins....

She is growing up before our eyes.

Slow down, Presli Pie. We want to savor every slice.

Great Expectations

So I'm finding out that life with two kids is definitely full.

Full of laughs...full of love...and full of laundry!

But you won't find me complaining (most of the time, anyway) because I couldn't be more thankful. A few nights ago, when both our kiddos were sleeping soundly, I looked over at Chris and said, "These are the sweetest days. The ones we will look back on when our kids have long since flown the nest and we are old and gray. We'll sit on the porch and rock as we reflect on the memories of what we are living right this very moment."

He smiled and agreed with me. And then promised to remind me of that on the days when the kids are whining and fussing for no good reason.

Point taken.

Thankfully, the seond time around I'm able to fully enjoy this season of motherhood.

When pregnant with Park, I often daydreamed of tenderly tucking my sweet baby in for the night, while singing softly as he or she magically drifted off into peaceful dreams.

After all, that is exactly how it happens in the commercials. One quick flip of that little Ocean Wonder light show and "Junior" is snoring before you can even say Fisher Price.

Maybe if we had named Park "Junior" things would have turned out differently.

In all seriousness, I had longed my whole life for motherhood. But although I had spent a lifetime imagining what it would be like, the reality of my first months of mothering did not line up with my expectations.

After a very difficult delivery, I found myself suffering a series of major health problems in the ensuing months. Couple that with Park’s respiratory issues, inability to sleep more than an hour at a time, a husband in the throws of a new job, and my coping mechanism became non existent.

Initially, I had no idea I was suffering from Postpartum Depression. Having never had a baby before, I mistakenly assumed this was what every new mom felt. When my midwife had covered Postpartum Depression during my pregnancy visits, I didn’t pay much attention since I “knew” this could never happen to me. And from what I could recall, if I truly had this type of depression I would be crying all the time and feeling very unattached to my baby.

Actually, the opposite was true in my situation. I was overly attentive to every little detail of my son. I felt no one was capable of meeting his needs other than me and obsessed over the smallest decisions, such as how to dress Park…would he be too hot? …too cold? I started feeling trapped, suffering from irrational fears of something happening to my family. I began to have anxiety attacks and found it impossible to sleep, even on the rare occasion that my baby actually was. All of these things were so out of character for me, yet I still thought it was just growing pains of becoming a new mom.

Postpartum Depression is real. It is not something you can talk, think, exercise, or pray your way out of, although all these things are valuable in the recovery process. It is a medical condition that needs treatment and there is nothing shameful about seeking help to feel like your old self again.

Unfortunately, it is also something not often discussed. After I began to share my story, I was amazed at the number of women in my life that had suffered a similar journey.

If you are experiencing Postpartum Depression, you are not alone. Do not suffer silently. Join the many women who have had the courage to speak up, demanding the help they so desperately needed.

For me, experiencing motherhood the second time around has been completely different. I had no idea just how much Postpartum Depression had robbed from me until having Presli. Being able to fully enjoy our new baby is a priceless gift and it breaks my heart that I missed out on so much of that with Park. And even though I've never discussed it publicly before, having Presli affirmed in me the need to share my experience with anyone who will listen. I pray God uses me to encourage other women and to prevent anyone else from missing the signs of needing help.

And as for my expectaions the second time around, I'd be lying if I didn't say we contemplated naming Presli "Junior". However, we opted to just buy her the Ocean Wonder light show instead.

Let's just say it was money well spent:)

Happy One Month, Baby Girl!

Presli,

You are one loved little girl! Here is a glimpse into your life at a month....

Your Eating Schedule:
During the day you eat about every 3 hours, and usually only because I wake you up. You are a great nurser, but if you don't want to eat, no one could possibly convince you otherwise. You are very fast and efficient, nursing no more than 10 minutes on each side.

Your Sleeping Schedule:
You sleep very well! (That is a HUGE praise, considering we prayed that over you in the womb after having your "up all day and all night" brother:) You typically fall asleep easily on your own with your pacifier and take 5-6 naps that last usually last between 1- 2 hours each. At night, you mostly go to sleep around 8:30 and I wake you to feed again before I go to bed around 10:30 or 11. You wake to eat between 3:30 and 4 and sleep again until waking for the day about 7:30. We are completely amazed by this!!!

Your Likes:
You LOVE your pacifier (and your brother loves to give it to you!), to swing, the car, the sling, to be swaddled, to sit on my lap, to hold hands, and to nuzzle your face against mine.

Your Dislikes:
Cold wet wipes during diaper changes and having your fingernails cut

Things That Make Me Laugh:
The way you love to stretch, the manly grunting you do when irritated, how you love your hands glued to your face when sleeping (just like Park!), how you tickle my side as you nurse, how your eyes bug out and you get the "o" face when ready to fall asleep, how calm and still you are (this one makes me laugh because I'm not used to this), the way Park says,"It's OK, Baby Girl. Super Bubby is here!", as he rushes to your side at the first sign of you fussing.

We adore you, Presli. You are a perfect addition to our family. Everything about you was worth the wait and we are treasuring every minute with you.

Brotherly Love

So, if you recall, Park was adamant we were having a boy.

He would not even discuss or entertain the idea that he might have a sister. And truthfully, he was so convincing, I just assumed he would be right. When we asked him how he KNEW it was a brother his answer was simply, "I asked God and he told me so."

After rejoicing over the little girl God gave us, one of my first thoughts at Presli's birth was how in the world would Park take the news. Because I had a hunch there may be some gnashing of teeth involved, I opted to let Chris break the news prior to Park arriving at the hospital to meet his new baby brother....um, that was a sister.

Presli was born just before 3 AM and around 7, Chris made the drive home to pick up Park. Knowing that my absence meant his sibling had arrived, he was anxiously awaiting the news.

"Can we go meet Pate, Daddy? I can't believe my baby brother is finally here!"

"Well, we are going to the hospital to meet someone, buddy, but actually it is Presli! You have a new baby sister."

And here is the part where Park's face lit up and he squealed, " Really? I can hardly believe it. Deep down I was actually hoping it was a sister! I already love her so much!!"

OK....So I'm completely lying through my teeth.

Actually, he sobbed like there was no tomorrow. BUT, only for about 5 minutes.

Chris told him it was alright to be sad and that sometimes we want certain things, yet God gives us something different. He assured Park that God knows what we need and we can trust that He is going to give us the very best, even when that is different than what we were hoping for.

Park seemed to believe Chris, but I think what really sold him was realizing he didn't have to share Daddy with anyone else on their special "just the boys" dates. It just didn't seem like the opportune moment to mention that Presli may like to fish, too.

And then Chris showed him some video of Presli getting her first bath and that was all it took.

Upon meeting her, it was love at first sight. From the moment he arrived at her bedside, he fully embraced having a sister.

Now that he has had two weeks with her at home, he is even more smitten. That girl has him wrapped around her little finger. He is crazy for her and if she can live through his love, she will be one tough cookie.

Today he was singing "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands." When she didn't respond, he told her, "Sister, you are a happy girl, so I'll just have to clap your hands for you until you get big enough to know how."

Baby girl, you are one blessed little lady.

That brother of yours may not have known to wish for you, but now he certainly would not trade you for anything.

Looks like you may get that Tiffany's bracelet, after all.

Restoration: Presli's Birth Story

One week ago today our lives were forever changed as we welcomed our baby girl into the world.

So far, life with Presli has been a complete joy for all of us. Park is in love with her and she already has Chris completely wrapped around her sweet finger. As for me, any questions I ever had about how I would love another child as much as Park were answered the moment I layed eyes on her.

*WARNING: Below is the story of her birth, which includes words such as "dilation" and "water breaking", as well as being rather lengthy. Read ahead at your own comfort level.

At 37 weeks I was encouraged to learn I was dilated to a 2 and by the next week I was already a 4. I had many Braxton Hicks contractions throughout the pregnancy, but they began to pick up in intensity the weekend before her birth. On September 1st, I felt that heaviness that precedes labor and wondered if our baby would come within the next several days.

Although the contractions seemed to be a lot stronger, they were very sporadic. By about 6 that evening, I was extremely happy to see Chris walk through the door. I felt tired and the contractions were starting to get stronger and come every 30 minutes. We put Park to bed around 8, but I became really unsure this was "it" because they seemed to be getting further apart rather than closer together.

I tried to go to bed about 9 to rest up for the days to come, but finally got up around 10 after finding it impossible to sleep. By 10:30 I started to panic a bit. Chris was helping me manage each contraction but I began questioning how these "early" contractions could feel so intense and how on earth I would handle the stronger ones at the end.

I remembered the last contractions with Park and was I crazy or did these feel that same intensity? But, considering they were still thirty minutes apart it seemed completely ridiculous to go to the hospital at that point.

By 11:30, I was so glad we had not gone to the hospital because they stopped all together. Certain labor wouldn't start until the next day, Chris and I went to bed around midnight until I was awakened by a horribly strong contraction at 1:30. It was so intense I did not have time to wake Chris and after it passed I decided to time one more before dragging us to the hospital unnecessarily.

The next one did not happen until right before 2 and it was very rough, as well. Just as I was deciding that irrational or not, I was ready to call his mom to come stay with Park and head on to the hospital, another one hit about 2 minutes later.

At this point, I begin to have the sinking feeling that we may have waited too long to start our 20 minute drive to the hospital. With the contractions coming on top of each other, we opted to call a neighbor to come until his mom could make it and headed out the door like a tornado. Chris knew I meant business when I barked at him to forget loading the suitcases and "GET TO DRIVING ALREADY!!"

He drove with the hazards on about double the legal speed limit, all the while calmly assuring me that we had plenty of time.

Clearly, he was not the one sitting on someones head.

About 5 miles shy of the hospital I announced that I absolutely had to push.

Enter Chris' 911 phone call.

I think Chris may be the only husband in the history of roadside deliveries who remained completely calm while communicating to the operator that we were minutes from having our baby in the car and under no circumstances should the police pull us over for speeding.

And then he firmly instructed me to sit tight and not push, he would have us there before I knew it. In retrospect I appreciate his even tone, but at the time his calm demeanor may or may not have caused some mild irritation that led me to share how I really felt about his "sitting tight" idea.

And then my water broke.

Thankfully it released enough pressure to allow me to "sit tight" for the remaining two minutes until we burned rubber into the hospital parking lot. Somehow we made it up to labor and delivery in time for me to announce I was "HAVING A BABY RIGHT NOW!"

And here is where the real fun began.

The nurse at the desk asked me to give her some details so she could pull up my information, and then asked me to describe my contractions because depending on what happened after being checked, I "may or may not be sent back home for false labor."

Never mind that I could not breath, let alone talk. Or that I had water dripping down my leg.

Here is where Chris (in his overly calm voice) explains that I am about to have a baby. Clearly not convinced, the nurse asks me to walk down to triage (because every room was already filled), get a gown on and wait to be checked.

Sadly, I was not as calm as hubby when I personally assured her, "I'm ABOUT TO HAVE A BABY!!"

By some miracle they decided to skip some steps and just check me and that is when everyone flew into high speed mode. "Get her doctor here NOW!!" I heard, as they rushed me into a room.

Somehow I now took precedence over the 32 other women there to give birth that same night. Seriously, 32. Is that not insane?

I was told I was a 9 1/2, but Nancy the Nurse was not fooling me that they were trying to stall, hoping to keep me from pushing until my doctor arrived.

The next 10 minutes were a blur, as everyone around me went into frenzy mode. Although my focus was on managing contractions, I vaguely remember being stuck repeatedly as they tried in vain (pun intended) to get a hep lock in my arm.

Another nurse was on the phone calling representatives from the neonatal unit to come up in preparation for an unassisted delivery. The table was being broken down and I was told to pant through the next few contractions. I told the nurse I had pushed for over 5 hours with my son and asked her to go ahead and let me at least get started for crying out loud.

As my legs went in the stirrups my doctor flew through the door, putting his scrubs on as he went. As deeply as I felt the need to push, I also felt the need to get my hair into a ponytail ASAP and a kind nurse gladly ripped the rubber band from her own hair to place around mine. Tresses firmly in place, I was ready to get down to business.

The first push brought back all the fear from Park's delivery and without meaning to, I felt myself hold back. My typically mild mannered doctor, fully aware of my previous experience and wanting to keep me from panic mode, informed me, "That was pathetic! Now bear down and push like you want to meet this baby! The head is crowning and you can do this. I give you about a 4 for effort and I need a 10. Let's do this!"

Nothing like a good pep talk to motivate a girl in pain. I pushed like I MEANT it and the next thing I knew I saw what looked to be a carbon copy of my Park being layed on my chest. I had seen the umbilical cord between her legs just moments before I heard Chris scream, "It's a GIRL!!!!"

After double checking, indeed, he was right.

He cried tears of joy and I cried tears of relief that we had made it and our baby girl was healthy and here in our arms.

And it all happened less than 30 minutes after arriving at the hospital. Thank you Dr. White for running the 4 red lights from your house to the hospital.

Everything from getting pregnant to facing fears from my previous labor/postpartum recovery provided me with the opportunity to lean more on Jesus. As has been true throughout my walk with Him, He has once again proven 100 percent faithful and trustworthy. When I look into Presli's eyes, I'm reminded that He is the Redeemer- full of grace, mercy, and restoration. He alone knows what we need and when we need it.

And speaking of that, my next post will pick up with big brother's reaction to meeting his new baby sister....

Let Me Introduce You To......

OUR DAUGHTER!!!!

PRESLI DENAE

born Sept 2, 2009

6lbs 15 ounces

19 3/4 inches

I will blog the detailed version of her birth in the days to come, but let's just say I arrived at the hospital at 2:25 AM and was holding her in my arms at 2:57 AM! We got home yesterday afternoon and I'm feeling AMAZING! I feel good enough to run a marathon (or at least some quick sprints at the very least:)

I cannot put into words how thankful we are for such an amazingly healthy baby girl and a wonderful delivery/recovery that only God could be responsible for. He was in every detail and she was definitely worth the year we prayed and waited on her.

Thank you for all your prayers and encouragement along the way.

And please forgive me in advance for the obnoxious number of pictures I'm sure to post in the days, weeks, and months to come!

In an Effort to Better Document....

37 Weeks!

Anyone care to speculate on the gender, weight, and birthday?

(FYI-Park was born 8 days before his due date and weighed 8lbs 1 oz. ) This baby is due Sept. 11. If you are up for playing along , just leave your best guess as a comment.

Winner gets to birth the baby for me! Just kidding, kind of:)

Patience is a Virtue

Yes, I am still alive.

My blog, on the other hand, seems to be dying a slow death. The good news is I have a longstanding track record of eventually reviving her. I may desert her unintentionally for a month here or there, but she can always count on me coming back.

Don't you like how I just made my blog female? But if she weren't a girl, she certainly would have gotten fed up with my wordiness a long time ago and found a way to delete my ramblings. Wait- it does seem like there have been some times when I've started writing some post and a mysterious "error" occurs and deletes everything I've spent the last hour sharing. Hmmmm-definitely something to think about.

Moving on.

Remember that calm, sweet baby I raved about carrying last time I posted? Well, it turns out I didn't give him/her enough credit for the punch it can pack. Definitely, not as strong as big brother Park was in the womb, but still enough to keep me on my toes. Regardless, I'm treasuring each (pounding) movement as the days draw closer until we meet face to face.

I'm currently closing in on 35 weeks, which has suddenly brought me to the realization that I actually have to BIRTH this child. If you are one of those precious women who "sneezed" your baby out, I truly am happy for you. But just to be real, after 5 and 1/2 long hours of all natural pushing with Park, all that jazz about "not remembering the pain" definitely does not ring true for me. And although I'm choosing a drug free birth again this time around, 4 years hasn't been long enough to erase some vivid mental images that I'd assume not recall.

God and I have had some serious tutorials on the verse, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

I'm clinging to that one for dear life.

And on another positive note, most of the trauma I remember was not the actual birth, but the postpartum pain. And every loving girlfriend I have has PROMISED me that the second child recovery is night and day better than the first. If they are lying through their teeth, please don't tell me unless you are volunteering to birth my baby.

And if that is the case, I totally accept your offer.

Park is going to make the best big brother. We were in the car the other day when I caught a glimpse of him talking in a low voice and acting something out. When I asked what he was doing he shyly replied that he was practicing shushing his brother and giving him his "pa" (our family love name for pacifier.) "This little guy can get loud, but I have just the right touch," he declared. Clearly, this kid has no confidence.

It truly was so sweet that I decided to just skip over the whole conversation about how it could be a sister. It's like talking to a wall.

But just so I don't paint a skewed picture, I should also mention that as precious as he is, he is still learning that patience is a virtue. (But, then again, who isn't, right?) Chris and I have been discussing with him the importance of waiting on things and not demanding our own way. A few days ago I had a chance to reinforce this lesson when he was waiting by the door for Chris to get home from work.

"Where is Daddy? He's never going to get here and I'm ready to play with him!!! I have been so patient, but this is the slowest family I have ever had!" he exclaimed.

Confused as to what he was referring to, I asked him to clarify and here was his response:

"Well, Daddy's truck is so slow and our baby is taking forever to get here, too. Being patient just makes me tired!!... (thoughtful pause)... But, NOT the kind of tired that means I should go to bed early, though."

I know the feeling, little man, but some things are worth the wait.

And for the record, he was the kind of tired that required an early bed time. Or at least I was the kind of tired that required him to have an early bed time.

(After getting some time to play with daddy, of course:)

Documentation is Overrated

When I was pregnant with Park, Chris and I must have taken about a zillion pictures of my pregnant belly. We marveled over the weekly changes and documented each and every little happening.

Fast forward 4 years and I am now 27 weeks pregnant with baby #2 and just getting around to taking a picture. Go figure.


After all these years, I finally understand why my baby book was simply a few paragraphs on the last page of Challi's monstrous scrap book. The second child is no less loved, but perhaps a bit less documented.

But the good news is, what subsequent children may lack in documentation, they more than gain in richness of relationships. To this day, my sister is still my very best friend. No other friend could ever understand me like she does or love me as unconditionally.

I pray daily that Park and his sibling will share that same bond and intense love for one another. And one day, when this precious little one examines his/her baby book, maybe sharing the back page of Park's will seem like as much as a gift as sharing Challi's does to me.

"The Yucky, Scary Part"

So, last post I told you how great my birthday was, but now I owe you the rest of the story.

That morning, we were meeting my friend Kelly and her two kiddos at the park for the boys to ride bikes while we got some fresh air and exercise. Before we started out, we took everyone for a mandatory bathroom break. Without being too graphic, I was alarmed when I noticed a little blood when taking my turn.

When discussing this with Kelly, who could not be more calm and compassionate, she said, "I'm sure it is nothing, but I know you would feel better if you just call your doctor and check in."

Unfortunately, in my rush to get out the door that morning, I had left my cell phone on the kitchen counter. And about the time I realized that, I also realized that I could not recall the baby kicking or moving all morning.

So, Kelly, in her cool in a crisis way, put together an action plan. We put everyone back in the car and headed to Sonic for an apple juice slush to see if the juice could get the baby moving. We headed back to her house for me to quietly rest on her couch until the baby moved. While I did this, she sent the kids off to play and searched the Internet for the number to my doctor.

I made the call and while on hold for the nurse, I felt the baby start kicking. It instantly calmed my spirit and I thanked God for His grace in giving me that reassurance. I was tempted to hang up since I really hated to sound like an overreacting mother, but decided since I had already crossed that threshold why not embrace it?

The nurse was precious and assuring, but asked me to go ahead and come to the office for a urine sample and exam. Sweet Kelly kept Park for me and I made my way to the office.

After some preliminary questions and urine sample, we listened to the baby via Doppler and heard a strong, normal heart rate. But just before the exam ended the nurse practitioner casually said, "You haven't had any contractions, right?"

After I told her that I had started having Braxton Hicks about 3 weeks earlier, she decided to check for any dilation. (Again-sorry for the explicit details...) After that exam, she had some concerns that I might already be effacing, as well as that she thought I was measuring small and sent me on for an immediate sonogram.

Thankfully, it looked to be a false alarm, though, because the sonogram showed everything to be exactly on track and perfectly normal. I'm pretty sure the stenographer meant it as a complement when she told me I probably just have a very efficient cervix that happens to be a little sensitive.

Good to know.

So, despite some great birthday gifts later that evening, the best present of the day ended up being the reassurance that my little pumpkin was still safely tucked away in my stomach- continuing to grow and develop into who God is creating him/her to be.

After a 2 hour "put the birthday celebrations on hold" detour, I finally left with no restrictions other than zero exercise until my appointment with my doctor next week.

And seeing how much I love to exercise, that advice could be considered a bit of a present itself.

No, I'm definitely not short on reasons to celebrate.

(By the way, please leave me a comment if you or someone you know had Braxton Hicks contractions starting as early as 19-20 weeks. I'm 23 weeks now and having them quite regularyly... Of course , you can still leave a comment, even if you didn't:)

All Wrapped Up

So, I haven't posted a What Works For Me Wed. post in a really long time because frankly this pregnant brain forgets any creative ideas that cross it's path long before they ever make it to fruition. And I would do some memory exercises or something if I wasn't already so busy focusing on not being ridiculously clumsy.

Yesterday, I was hanging a shirt on a rack and the next minute I found myself on the floor, surrounded by that entire rack of clothing. Not only did my pride take a beating, but I ended up with a huge knot on my leg for a parting prize.

Or there was the moment at McDonald's that I was filling up a cup of water when it mysteriously jumped out of my hand. Seeing my embarrassment, as the kind worker bent to the floor to clean up the mess, he sweetly assured me, "It is no big deal, Miss."

However, I don't think he still felt that way when the next cup I was refilling slipped from my hand a SECOND time and drenched his entire head. Not even my fuzzy brain can forget the horror I felt in that moment.

But somehow in all the clumsiness I managed to stumble across a helpful idea. I've always heard that necessity is the mother of all invention and this one definitely came out of desperation.

It was eleven o'clock on Sunday night when I realized that although I had miraculously remembered to buy a gift for the birthday party we were attending the next day, I had failed to buy anything to wrap it in. Even my trusty gift bag storage box was devoid of packaging that could help me out last minute.

So, in an effort to avoid getting up early to go to the store, I came across a large sheet of white butcher paper in the art closet that Park had painted a few weeks back. I had intended to throw it out, but thankfully hadn't gotten around to it.

I cut it like wrapping paper and was amazed that it ended up being cuter than anything I could have purchased. So, from now on, our birthday gifts will be sporting a personalized touch.

(Assuming that I actually remember to use this trick next time around.)

Maybe we should wrap up a gift for that poor McDonald's worker....

How Can I Possibly Give This Randomness a Title?

Since I haven't made much time for blogging lately, I'm feeling overwhelmed by all the stories I want to record. I think I'll just start out by writing random snippets and hopefully end up with some form of a post.

I am halfway through this pregnancy already. How exactly did that happen? This sweet baby is moving all around. Park wants to feel it so badly, but every time he puts his hand to my belly the kicks suddenly stop. When this happens he always says, "Oh, man! God sure gave us a tricky little one!"

Yesterday, he told me,"I really want a brother, but I'll be thankful for whatever God gives us." It's only taken about 20 weeks of work to get him to this point, but just as I was relishing we had finally arrived, he added, "If it is a sister I'll protect her, and if someone is mean to my brother I'll punch 'em in the nose!"

And if you've ever seen his moves, you understand my concern.

I'm not sure if that horrified me more or the fact that Chris answered with, "You got it, buddy!"

On another note, what is up with maternity jeans? I'm still wearing my regular jeans held together with a rubber band because I have yet to find a pair that I could go out in public in. Am I the only one with issues?

And speaking of maternity clothing issues, I pulled out my clothes I wore when pregnant with Park. Can four years really make that much of a difference in style? If I looked as wrong in them then as I do now, someone should have just put me out of my misery. At the rate things are going, What Not To Wear may contact me before this pregnancy is over.

Can I just tell you that despite all my wardrobe malfunctions, not a day goes by that I don't soak up how thankful I am to be pregnant! Based on the time it took to get here, I am painfully aware of how many women are aching to have the opportunity to look dorky in maternity jeans. And I pray that when they are on the other side of their infertility, they will not take for granted what others are so desperately longing for.

I am one of those rare people that LOVE being pregnant. Even with Park, I just enjoyed it right up until the last day. Of course, it helps that I don't really get morning sickness and that my hubby thinks pregnancy is beyond hot. I could do without the whole labor thing, but the actual growing of the baby inside me is something I did not expect to enjoy so much.

And speaking of enjoyment, I can't help but think God must have laughed at Park's prayer tonight. It went like this:

Jesus, thank you for the beautiful sky you gave us tonight. And for cars, and horses, and my socks. Even though they stink. Will you smell my feet and give me something good to eat? I'm hungry, but Mommy said I already had my bedtime snack. Oh and thank you for my Daddy's stinky booty. Please help our baby to be stinky, too, because boys are stinky and I want a boy baby. Amen

What am I going to do with that child?

Suckers and Doppler Drama

Park and Chris came with me to my Dr.'s appointment last week so we could all share in hearing the baby's heart beat for the first time.

Dr. White placed the Doppler on my stomach, after securing his place in Park's heart forever by presenting him with his first lolly pop. While Park chomped away, we anxiously awaited that beautiful sound to fill the room.

And waited, waited, waited, and waited some more.

Finally, he called for the nurse to bring in a different Doppler, all the while assuring me there was nothing to worry about. One of the reasons I chose him as my doctor is his amazing bedside manner. 

I don't care how qualified you are, if you can't treat me like my opinion counts or care about me as a human being, I'm so out of there. Unlike some others I have visited briefly in the past, it is such a blessing that Dr. White is competent, compassionate, and supportive. (Let me show some love here to Sarah and Bridget for insisting that I meet him!)

I was fairly calm even after the second Doppler did not locate the heartbeat. We were moved into a different room to skip on to an ultrasound. But, my calmness turned into pleading prayers when the tech could not find anything after putting the gel on my stomach. I searched Chris' eyes to see if his heart held the fear that mine did, but thankfully I found nothing but calm reassurance.

Well, in all honesty, in that moment it irritated me a bit that he was so peaceful in the middle of such stress. But, as usual, my irritation came more from conviction than anything else. God has given us this little life and instead of panicking, I should have simply rested in His sovereignty and ability to take care of us no matter what. 

Being married to a a man that lives out his faith 24/7 often gives me the opportunity to see which areas I need to grow in. Sigh.

Without hesitation Dr. White stepped out for a moment so the tech could quickly skip to the next type of ultrasound (read between the lines here), and before he could even re-enter the room we were all praising the Lord for the beating heart and fluttering arms on the screen.

I have never been so thrilled and thankful to see someone waving to me in all my life. Park immediately squealed, "It's my brother and he is waving at me!"

(Note to self: Go back over the conversation with Park about how thankful we will be with WHATEVER God gives us, a brother or sister.)

About that time the baby began to suck its' thumb and we all watched in amazement. They explained the reason we had such a hard time hearing the baby's heartbeat is because my uterus is tucked behind my bladder.

Perhaps this accounts for why I visit the restroom 105 times per day?

After reassuring us how healthy and how well this baby is developing, the tech and Dr. White turned off the screen and left the room. Chris, Park, and I celebrated  a bit and then got our things together and headed to the front desk to schedule the next appointment.

About that time, Park said, "I can't wait to come back and get another lolly pop from Dr. White next time! (Decided not to break it to him just then that he won't be joining me for every appt...) Hey, and what was that pink Dr.'s name, Mommy?"

Confused, I answered, "Dr. White?"

"No," he said impatiently, "Not the white doctor, the pink one!"

It took me a minute, but I finally realized that the ultrasound tech was wearing pink. Chris and I got a good laugh out of that one. 

Thank you Dr. White and "Dr. Pink" for your calm spirits, peaceful reassurance, and compassion during a stressful visit.

And of course for the lolly pop, too.

A Little Lot of Shut Eye

If you happen to have wondered where I've been lately, the most likely answer is sleeping.

I cannot keep my eyes open to save my life.

Last week, Chris, Park and I were coming home from an evening with friends at around 7:00 PM. One minute Chris and I were in the middle of a great conversation and then the next thing I remember is him waking me up in our driveway 45 minutes later.

Narcolepsy, I tell you.

And this is really odd for someone who usually has to have her teeth brushed, face, washed, mask on, and pillows fluffed accordingly, just to have a chance at falling asleep within the hour.

Not to mention that every time I lay down with Park to read books, I end up reading the back of my eyelids, instead. And by God's mercy Park has been taking more naps, too, probably because he'd have to crawl over his sleeping mommy to have a chance at escaping his bed.

Clearly I should have tried this strategy sooner.

But all that to say, I'll take sleepiness over queasiness any day of the weak. With the exception of some waves of nausea here and there, I am very blessed in the morning sickness department. (Well, technically early mornings have always made me sick, pregnant or not.)

However, let me warn anyone willing to listen about taking your child to the rodeo during the first trimester of pregnancy.

One whiff of the air upon entering the arena sent this little cowgirl into dry heaves for the remainder of the festivities. It wasn't pretty, but I was able to manage long enough to see the final bull rides.

Even if I had to bury my nose in my shirt to do so.

When purchasing their tickets, the poor people next to us had no idea what kind of show they were actually in store for. Perhaps rodeo attendees should push for a refund clause in the off chance you are seated next to a hurling, shirt sniffing, drama mama.

On the up side, Park didn't seem to mind my misery a bit, even pausing his "YEE HAW!" periodically to slam pat me on the head. And Chris was gracious enough to hide his grins with his hands, although I did faintly hear some snickering between dry heaves.

At least my rodeo debt is paid, unlike Chris who is still having to play the calf, while Park chases him on a stick horse before mercilessly roping him to the ground.

How's that snickering working for you now, hubs?

So, all in all, I'm alive and well, thankful beyond words for my waves of nausea and narcoleptic tendencies. I'm heading into my ninth week of pregnancy and not taking one minute of it for granted.

Even if I have to bury my nose in my shirt every now and then to do so.

Let me introduce you to....

Our little miracle! (and I do mean LITTLE:)
Praising the Lord for a strong flickering heartbeat!

Chris has already declared that the baby looks just like him. Can't you just see the resemblance?

After today, Park, on the other hand, voiced some serious concern.

"Mommy, I'm afraid our baby will come out looking like a peanut. Don't worry, I'll still love him, though. And I'll try not to eat him."

What a great big brother he is going to be!

I claimed this verse when I was believing for our baby, so it is especially sweet to read it now, as I turn in for bed.

(And for those of you still waiting for your miracle, I claim it on your behalf tonight.)

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!

Psalm 139:13-17

Believing God

Well, we haven't peeled ourselves off the ceiling yet, but if I waited for that day to come I may never blog again! Thank you for all your warm wishes. It truly makes it sweeter to be able to share the joy and excitement of those who have prayed alongside me.

I want to take a minute to record the events leading up to finding out about the pregnancy. After blood work and fertility testing throughout this past year, it was a mystery to the doctors as to why I was not yet pregnant. Everything looked great on paper, yet after over a year of trying, we were still without a second child.

Because my progesterone levels did seem a bit on the low end, we decided to go ahead with natural progesterone supplementation. The first month, I was very hopeful. But after seeing no results as late November rolled around, the doctor concluded it was time for me to move on to a fertility specialist. Her exact words were, "The progesterone is a long shot. It my opinion you need a miracle for it to work. If I were you, I wouldn't waste any more time on it.... just go find a fertility specialist."

I was devastated. Having walked that road with my sister to achieve her first pregnancy, I knew all too well about the decisions I would be facing and it completely overwhelmed me! After much discussion with Chris, we decided to do nothing but pray about the situation until the New Year.

During that time, I told God that I was in need of some major encouragement. I desperately wanted to cling to and believe His promises, but my heart was getting weary. I begged Him to renew my spirit.

That afternoon, I "happened" upon Beth Moore's book Believing God at our library. By no accident, it was the exact encouragement I needed. I clung to the truth in her wisdom and was once again reminded of God's faithfulness to me. With her urging, going back through all the times He had come through for me in the past, pushed me to truly BELIEVE He would do it for my future.

I faithfully recited the pledge, "God is who He says He is! He can do what He says He can do! I am who He says I am! I can do all things through Christ! His Word is alive and active in me!" Park belted them out right alongside me. He even wore a blue bracelet on his wrist, too.

The night before I took the pregnancy test, I finished Chapter 15 entitled "Believing God When Victory Requires Your All." I read in the Bible of the time that the Lord caused the sun and moon to stand still, simply because Joshua asked and believed Him for it. Joshua had a deep need that caused him to pray a big prayer to His big God. Beth's words jumped out at me from the page....."You need to know and count on the fact that God is willing to interrupt the very laws of nature to perform his will."

Wow. Those words spoke to the very heart of where I was in that moment.

And so I prayed, "Lord, whether I am pregnant right now or not, you have the ability to make it happen before tomorrow morning. I am counting on your willingness to interrupt the very laws of nature to perform your will. Your word says be fruitful and multiply. I believe you for this! And whether it is tomorrow or five years from now, you will see this to completion because you are who you say you are!"

And I slept in the peace and assurance that He gave me.

That morning (January 4), my hands shook as I took the test, but my heart was still before the Lord. I had renewed trust that His grace truly was sufficient. I knew that He was saying yes to the heart of my request even if He did not say yes to the timing.

And then the double pink lines appeared.

The tears streamed down my face, as I dropped to my knees in worship. I had witnessed His miracle. Moments later, Chris celebrated with me. And I can't even express the sheer joy of seeing Park's eyes light up when we were able to tell him that God answered our prayers.

The Lord could have given us this pregnancy a year, months, or days before that moment. He could have answered our first, tenth or hundredth request. He could have provided before we ever asked.

But He didn't.

Instead, He chose to give us this baby only after he had given us a closer view of Himself. And only in hindsight do I realize how much we would have missed out on, if He had done it my way instead of His own.

Thank you Jesus, that you are never early, never late. Your ways are not ours, they are infinitely better. And I pray that others, currently in the throws of the infertility journey, will cling to that truth even when their heart is breaking. I will be praying this on their behalf, as well.

Our baby is due September 11. That makes me almost 6 weeks pregnant and feeling great. My progesterone and HCG levels look great and next week we will hear the baby's heartbeat. Come September, we will meet God's handiwork face to face and I will hold in my arms the tangible reminder of his favor, mercy, love, grace, wisdom, and willingness to work on my behalf.

(And much to the dismay of Sarah and Bridget, we will once again wait to find out the sex of this baby until he/she arrives:)