Showing Up

When Jack was three and in the hospital following his seizure, I first realized how important it is when people show up. There was an outpouring of prayer and love for our family that truly overwhelmed me. To me, the love others showed to us was a tangible taste of God's love.

Sometimes when we hear that something tragic has happened to someone we know or we see someone struggling with something, it is hard to know what to do. We think- do I know them well enough to stop by? am I bold enough to go pray for them? should I call? would I be intruding? I'm sure their family is taking care of it. A lot of these thoughts are based in fear. These are thoughts that would run through my mind before our family endured our own trauma with Jack. 

My answer is this. Even if the people suffering are merely an acquaintance- SHOW UP. People need you to show up. Earlier this year, there was a family at our school who had a son who suffered a very traumatic brain injury. I didn't know them very well, I didn't know what their beliefs were and I wasn't sure how they would receive me. But, I felt compelled to go to the hospital and into the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit to see them. I talked to them for a little while about their son and how he was doing. And then I prayed for all of them. It was powerful, but not because of me. I was just the vessel that showed up. Others showed up too- the school community showered them with meals and help. This sweet teenager has recovered and is back to school. 

I have also been abundantly blessed by people showing up since I had the baby. People keep asking me how I am doing and I am able to say, "great" only because I have so much help. My mother in law stayed the first week and cooked, cleaned, did laundry and took care of my other children. My mom and sister took turns driving my kids to and from school, cleaned and have done my laundry. I have been showered with gifts for the baby, even though I refused to have a baby shower. My friends and church family have brought delicious meals for our family. My son's teacher even brought us a meal and last night we had a very special treat. 

My friend Shellie and her husband own one of our favorite steakhouses Damon's. She brought us five filets, garlic bread, their twice baked potatoes and their famous salad. I actually brought out real plates (not paper) and we had a nice dinner, pretending we were out to eat. So, I am giving a plug for Damon's. If you are ever in Glendale, check it out. It is a great restaurant that not only has good food, but also does a tremendous job serving the community.

I am grateful for all of the care and kindness everyone has shown us, even in my blogging friend's loving comments.  Thanks for showing up.

Three Weeks Old

My sweet boy- you are three weeks old already. Your face is filling out and you are opening your eyes more and more. This is my favorite shirt on you. I put it on you and Ty said, "Vance looks cute today mommy." I agree.

This week you had your first bottle, your first bath, and your thousandth kiss. You loved your bath. You seemed surprised by the warmth of the water, but settled into it, relaxing and enjoying it. Your brothers were so excited to watch you, so it got a little crowded around the kitchen sink. The love experiencing all of your firsts. You didn't even cry when I took you out of the water and daddy caught you in the towel. You have lit up our home little bear. 

Big Brothers

I have heard mamas say many times that they would like another baby, but that their kids are big now and they can't imagine going back and starting over with an infant. This is something I thought about when Jason and I talked about having a fourth baby. The thought of diapers, waking up again in the middle of the night, terrible twos in restaurants, toting around a diaper bag, and all of the large plastic paraphernalia that goes along with a baby is enough to make you think twice. 

But I have to tell you that I am totally, without question, loving having a baby with "big kids". It is so much easier than having multiple children under the age of five. With that, most of the time you are in survival mode. I remember those days. However, with this age difference, it is a complete joy to watch these big brothers love up on "their baby" as they call him. There is also one major BONUS- they are very helpful. They can't wait to hold him and help take care of him. 

Luke, my nine year old (sporting some hat hair) is giving Vance his first bottle. Hooray! Vance took the bottle with no problem and Luke loved having this special responsibility. 

Ty, my four year old, knew Vance's name when we were all calling the baby "Ty" on accident. He would walk into the room and say (in his very loud voice), "Where's Vance?" At school, he loves to ask all of his friends, "Want to see my baby?" He absolutely loves this baby. Sometimes a little too much. He is kind of like a giant puppy, not totally in control of where his limbs are going to end up. We have to do some slight protecting of the baby from all the love Ty wants to show him.
Jack, my eight year old, is ready for bed here and wanted Vance to lay down with him for a little bit. Vance tried to eat his shoulder, but we called it a kiss goodnight. 

It is such a blessing to watch them love their little brother. I also think there is something in how their care for him that is maturing and building character in them. I am delighting in that!

An Actual Birth Day!

Yesterday, the baby's umbilical cord finally fell off. I was sad because it meant that his first little stage of life was over. Yes, I am holding onto every single day with this little guy.

A few days ago, my sister came over with the pictures she had taken on the day Vance was born. I hadn't seen them yet and I love them. Thanks sistah for always making sure I have good pics. Please indulge me a little as we revisit the baby's actual birth day!

Here is Jason and his beautiful mama right before we went in to welcome Vance to the world.

This was the moment when Vance and I first met face to face. This was the first time I have ever had a nurse lay my baby next to me and it was one of the sweetest moments of my life.

I love this picture of my adorable husband looking at his newborn son, just minutes old.




I am grateful for these pictures because these are the moments I missed. I was in recovery. I saw this and marveled at how beautifully he came out. Look- he is sucking his thumb.

This is Vance's entourage who arrived early in the morning to be at his arrival.  Note- my wonderful sister is not pictured, but she is much appreciated as the behind the scenes photographer. My mom is also not pictured as she was standing by my side and the doctors finished up working on me.
Big Brother's Get To Meet Their Baby!


And, of course, Ty had to have a hospital costume and daddy was happy to share. So, if you ask Ty what to wear to a hospital, this would be it!

Not Alone

Last night, at one in the morning, my nine year old woke up with really sharp stomach pains. He came in to get me and I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was really hurting. (Note, this was right in between nightly baby feeding times.) I got up with him and sat with him on this little couch that we have upstairs. He was sobbing because it hurt so bad. I went through the normal litany of questions-

Do you feel like you are going to throw up? NO
Do you have to poop? NO
Where does it hurt? He pointed to the center of his stomach, right beneath his breast bone. (Ok, not his appendix)
I check his temperature- No fever.

In the meantime, he is writhing in pain, crying, saying, "Mommy, I just want it to stop hurting. Make it stop hurting."

I feel helpless. All I can think of is maybe it is gas, maybe it is heartburn, but if it does not stop, maybe we need to go to the emergency room. So I pray for him and then I give him two TUMS because then at least I am DOING something that will appear to him like I am helping him. I tell him to take deep breaths and to pull his knees to his chest. I rub his leg for a while until he pushes my hand away.

I understand. Sometimes you are so miserable that it hurts more when people touch you.

After about 40 minutes, he is still breathing deeply, tears rolling quietly down his face, but his eyes are closed. I start to stand up to grab a pillow that has fallen to the ground. He reaches out and grabs my arm. I say, "It''s okay honey. I won't leave you."
He relaxes.

Even though he does not want me to touch him and even though I am doing nothing to help him, he does not want to be alone.

Nobody does.

While I was laying there, I started thinking about an e-mail I received in response to my recent post titled,"In It With You" wherein a friend wrote that sometimes she "feels so alone." When I read that, it made me piping mad.

You may think that is a strange response- sad maybe, but mad? Yes, mad. It made me mad because it is a big fat lie that she is being told by the enemy of our souls. The lie isn't that she feels it. The truth is that she is not alone.

I am out to expose the lies we are told that make us feel alone. So here goes...

you are not alone if you have been abandoned.

you are not alone if you sent your child to preschool today in a dirty white shirt because you had one sick child, one newborn and one performing a special flag ceremony and you were just happy that he came in fully dressed and you didn't have to force him to get dressed so you could get out the door on time. Wasn't me! And that wasn't a run- on sentence either.

you are not alone if you have cancer.

you are not alone if you received a foreclosure notice on your house.

you are not alone if you are an angry mother.

you are not alone if you are watching your parent die.

you are not alone if you wholeheartedly believed something and then found it not to be true.

you are not alone if you fake it all the time.

you are not alone if you feel fat every day.

you are not alone if your children act like complete lunatics in public as if you have never taught them one thing in their lives.

you are not alone if you just want to sleep.

you are not alone if you fantasize about getting in your car and just driving away.

you are not alone if you can't pay your bills.

you are not alone if you don't want to talk to anyone.

you are not alone if you wish you just had one person who could really hear you.

you are not alone if you don't know how to be a friend.

you are not alone if you have a very sick child.

you are not alone if you feel like you do everything half-way and nothing in excellence.

you are not alone if you feel like a really crappy mother.

you are not alone if your life is not how you pictured it.

you are not alone if....................................................................you are alone.

All of these examples are either things I, or someone I know, has personally experienced. The thing is that there is always someone else out there who is going through or feeling something similar to you.

Even better, you are not alone "because our God, will never leave you, or forsake you." Hebrews 13:5 Please pay close attention to the word NEVER.

Note that it does not say, "I might leave you if you steal something, say something mean, do the worst possible thing you can think of, curse at me, or get really sick. But, otherwise, I'll be there."

Forsake means to renounce, turn away from, or abandon. You will not be left and you will not be abandoned.

Just as I would not leave my child crying, writhing in pain, neither will you be left alone in any circumstance. 

Feel free to leave your own, "you are not alone if...." either publicly or anonymously. Help me expose the lie.

The Drive Away Mom

I just heard a news story about a mother in New York who, fed up with her 10 and 12 year old daughters arguing in the back seat, told them to get out of the car and walk. They were apparently three miles from their home and in a business/shopping district. 

The 12 year old ran after the mom's car and the mom let her back in. The 10 year old, probably more stubborn I'm guessing, didn't run after the car and was left.  I don't get this. Why not make them stay together or make them both get in? Anyway...

The mother is an educated partner in a law firm.

The report is that a "Good Samaritan" found the 10 year old visibly upset, gave her an ice cream and then it is unclear whether this person called the police or if the mom called the police because she couldn't find her child. The details were not clear at the time I researched it. 

The mother was arrested on child endangerment charges and was not allowed to see her children. The judge today decided to allow her to see them. 

Many people seem to think it is great that she was arrested, that she has done some permanent damage to her children and should be flogged. I'm not so sure about that. To be clear, this is not something I would do, but arrested? Really? 

Was it the walking three miles or that the child had no desire to actually walk those three miles alone? What if the child had asked to walk home and the mother had let her? Would it still be child endangerment? And how far is too far then for a ten year old to walk without it being child endangerment? 

For me, it really depends on the area. From the article, it did not sound like a dangerous area and I am betting this child knew her way home.

The creepy part to me is that a "Good Samaritan" bought her an ice cream. I mean, just get out your cell phone and say, "Let's call your mother right now." Then tell the mother that she needs to come get her child. I am sure this mother would have high tailed it back there as soon as she knew her child was with a stranger and that someone was aware of what she had done. But, maybe I am giving her too much credit. I don't know her.

How many times have you wanted to do this same thing? I know moms who have kicked their kids out of the car threatened to leave them, but instead merely driven around the block. If I personally know at least three, I am sure that the numbers are huge on this one. But what about actually leaving and going home?

Should she have been arrested for this? 

I just think it is too much. I mean, bring the daughter home in a police car and give the mom a stern warning. That would be enough to have me shaking in my boots. I think the arrest and the media attention is probably more damaging to these children and this family than having to walk three miles home would have been. 

I have a shocking true story about my husband to tell you related to this issue. I say shocking only because when he told me- I was shocked. In 1987, my hubby was in 8th grade and went on a field trip to Magic Mountain. He and a friend missed the bus home and they were left there. This was before every child had a cell phone. They decided to walk home. If you knew my husband, you would know why this seemed like the most logical choice to him. Honestly, I am sure he wasn't even upset. He was probably more like, "No problem. I'll walk home."

They walked about 15 miles toward home until they decided to call someone from a pay phone. They walked from 2pm until 8pm. Can you imagine your child doing this? Do you want to know what happened to the chaperons who left these kids? 

NOTHING!

The school did not get in trouble, it was not on the news, the parents did not even complain to the school. It was the kids' fault- they should have been to the bus on time.  

And that wasn't even in the 50's! It was the late 80's.

WHOOAAAA! Times have sure changed. There would be some serious firing going on at that school nowadays.

So, I am curious, what do you think about this "Drive Away Mama?" Should she have been arrested? Am I going too easy on her? 

Two Weeks Old

You are beautiful my Little Bear.

Happy Two Weeks of Life!

It is my pure delight to watch you try to open and focus your eyes, to see you respond to my voice when I speak, and to watch your brothers, each in their own way, love you so deeply. I do not take it lightly that you are on loan to your daddy and I from the Lord and that we have been entrusted with the gift of loving and raising you. You surely have my heart.

In It With You

My best friend moved away this year. By away, I don't mean the next town over or the next state over or even the next country over. She moved all the way across a continent and ocean to the country of Germany.

We met when we were juniors in high school on a church houseboat camping trip. We didn't go to the same high school, but I was drawn to her immediately. She was funny and witty and pretty. These are the things a sixteen year old looks for in a friend. I had no idea the depth of the friendship that would follow. We bonded over the fact that we had both tried out for varsity cheer and neither one of us had made it. I remember dancing with her on the top of that houseboat singing together, "we are losers" or something like that. We also thought that our twenty something ski boat driver was hot. These silly things began the bond that has now lasted twenty years.

A few years ago,I used to run with another friend. I was just getting to know her and we had many great talks on our runs. But, at that time, her best friend had just moved away. She was in mourning over it really. I used to listen to her and not really "get it." I kept thinking that it was silly to be so upset. That she could pick up the phone and talk to her anytime or e-mail or even go visit her. Of course, I never said these things, but I thought them.

Also, when my friend told me she was moving away, I didn't really process it as something hard for me because I was so happy for her and her husband to be doing what they were called to do. But then, as the time grew closer, I had an emotional reaction that I didn't expect. I would be in the shower or wake up in the middle of the night, or be driving my kids to school and just start weeping because she was leaving. I was mourning the loss of her. I remember telling myself, "She is not dying, she is just moving."

The thing is that I never expected to have a friendship like this. I am really close to my family and I think when that is the case, we don't often dig in to friendships like other women do. It isn't the lifeline that it is to others.

I always say that she taught me to be a friend. She wouldn't let me not call her back. She wouldn't let me slack off on being part of her life. She wouldn't let me fake it. She wouldn't let me hide. She would be loyal. She would be truthful. She would "get me." What a gift.

It has not turned out to be as hard as I thought it would because of the Internet. Skype and blogging and the fact that she somehow has a local phone number that reaches all the way to Germany has made it much easier than I anticipated.

I was able to talk to her yesterday morning for the first time in a while. A subject came up that I had anticipated would and she said something to me that has stuck with me. I have been processing or failing to process something that we, of course, discussed. (No, I'm not going to write about it yet! Didn't you note that I am currently failing to process it?)

Anyway, she said, "I'm in it with you."

Did you catch how powerful that is?

Even across a continent and ocean!

To first, have someone really gets who you are and second, to have that person "in it with you" is such an amazing thing. Not as an onlooker, observer, advice giver, an "oh I knew that is what was going on with you", an "oh, it will all be okay" type of "with you." Rather, an honest to goodness, get down in the pit and mud and get dirty "in it with you" or up to the mountaintops and into the beauty "in it with you." The thing is that she didn't really know how to process it either. She was, "in it with me." I love that! That is real.

This got me thinking about this blogging thing. I have been visiting a lot of blogs and the thing I am starting to get is that there is this very cool and powerful and authentic group of women blogging out there. A few months ago, I didn't even know what a blog was. Now, I have discovered this community of women who don't even know each other in real life, but are completely invested in each others lives.

Today, baby Stellan is having surgery on his heart. Please pray for this little one. As I read about the details of his surgery on MckMama's blog, I got a pit in my stomach. There are thousands reading and praying for Stellan and when I read their comments I see that many of these women are "in it with her." The reason they are is simply because she has let them in.

Thanks, my little fraulein, for teaching me to let others in and for being "in it with me."

Funny Faces

I just couldn't help it. Little guy was making all these faces and I was cracking up so I just had to take some pictures.

 

I don't want to open my eyes mommy.

I'll just open my mouth and nostrils.

Oh, if I must open them. But I'm not happy about it.
Fine, I'll look for one picture. Just stop all that flashing please.
Okay, cutie, mommy is done. At least for a few minutes.

Post Pregnancy Hormones Stink- Literally!

Every time I woke up last night to feed Vance, I was completely soaked in sweat. My nightgown, my hair, the sheets- all drenched in sweat. I am one Sweaty Betty. The good thing is that my body is getting rid of excess fluids. The bad part is it means that I smell like a boys' locker room when I wake up. I have to apply deodorant twice a day to keep the stench away. I am wondering if anyone else has had this problem or if this is some special hormonal gift just for me.

Sorry if this is too much information, but it's real.

I am still Miss Waterworks too! It is so not fair when you cannot control your emotions, even when you know they are totally irrational.

My mom called this afternoon and asked if she could take the boys to Palm Springs to spend the night at their aunt and uncles, swim and play with their cousins. I asked her to hold and asked Jason if he thought it was okay. He looked at me like I was completely crazy for even asking him and said, "Of course."

This is normally something Jason and I would be rejoicing about- a free night which usually involves some fun escapades not available to us this time since the doc has not given us the go ahead yet.  Again, I know, too much information. 

Still, a quiet night except for our new little guy should have been received as a gift. Instead, all I could think about was that they were all going on a long drive in car and I would not be with them. I had this strong instinct to keep all my birds in the nest. I really didn't want them to go, but I knew they would have so much fun and that I was being irrational aka hormonal.

I helped them pack their stuff, found the DVD player so my mother would arrive in Palm Springs still sane, and lectured them about their expected behavior. When they were ready to go, I hugged and kissed them all. I thought I was going to be fine until I said to my mom, " Make sure they wear sunblock, watch Ty in the pool because he has not been swimming since last summer and (this is where I broke down) drive carefully." All I could think of was that she was taking somewhere around three-quarters of my heart with her in that car. She had better be darn careful.

Note to my mom- I know you are a good driver.

Then I see all three of them looking at me as I stand on the porch, smiling and waving, but obviously crying. They look confused. How do I possibly explain hormones to these little boys?

 I go in the house. Luke gets out of the car and comes in the house. He looks at me and says, "Grandma said to come give you a hug." He walks up to me and gives me a two armed hug, a good hug. This boy is famous for his one armed, "oh if I must hug you", hugs. I say, "Thanks honey, I'm fine." And they go.

So, I am looking forward to these hormones leveling out and being back to my somewhat normal self. In the meantime, I am going to keep drinking lots and lots of water because I have some serious leakage problems.

Random Updates

I have joyful news about my weight. I finally worked up the courage to get on the scale and found that I am now down 18 pounds. Hooray! I think my body finally realized it wasn't pregnant anymore. 

My hormones are still out of whack. I know this because everything is making me cry. My mother-in-law, who is one of the best people I know and stayed with me this week, left yesterday and I was bawling. That is an understandable cry. I was watching the movie "Anywhere But Here" today and cried at nearly every scene. 

My mother would like me to clarify that I am not a druggie. This was due to my post about being in the hospital and "being high" on the anti-anxiety drugs that I had no idea they gave to me. So, for the record, I am not a drug user. However, I really did appreciate the little white pills that the nurses brought to me in the hospital. They were chewy with a minty flavor and brought me great pleasure. It was a drug called Mylicon :) and it greatly reduced my gas issues.

I was burping like a...  hmmm... I don't have a good ending for that simile. I bet my buddy Kathleen does. Anyway, Luke and Jack came to visit and I said,"Look what mommy can do" and let out a big belch. So ladylike!

I am healing. I can do a little more every day. My incision is looking good. The staples were taken out and I am not in any pain anymore. There is some fluid behind the incision. I have to put warm compresses on it to try to make the fluid absorb back into my body. 

Thank you to all of you who read and comment on my blog. Your comments bring me such encouragement and I love all the little stories you tell. Thanks for taking this journey with me. 

One Week Old

                 Happy first week of life little bear!

Nursing

Before I had Luke, I was terrified of breast feeding because I had heard horror stories about dry, cracked nipples. It still makes me cringe to think of it. That is love for a mama to keep trying in the midst of such pain.  I don't know if I could. Because I am huge on getting as much information about everything as is possible and I like to research, I took class and read up a lot about it. The woman who taught my class said something I never forgot, "If it is hurting you, the baby is not latched on right. It should never hurt." This was freeing for me and took away my fear.

I know that a lot of women struggle with this so I want to be sensitive to that.  There are three things that helped me have success with nursing my babies and I am going to put them out there just in case they can be helpful to other mamas. As with any baby advice, I know that all babies and situations are different. 

The first thing is Lansinoh. It is a lanolin cream in a purple tube. Buy it before you go to the hospital and put it on your breasts after each feeding.  This keeps the skin soft and supple. The second thing is the latch on. The baby's mouth needs to be super wide, as big as they can get it (like a big O) when they latch on. Then it does not hurt. The third thing is to know with certainty that it should not hurt. If it does, get help from a lactation expert. 

Jack was the only one who didn't make it to a year. He was very impatient for the let down. He would pull off and scream. This we made it through. He was also a biter. This we did not. I'll never forget when he bit me so hard that I took him off, held him up and looked him in the eye and said, "That was your last time!." And it was.

Vance took to nursing right away, but I had to release the suction with my finger many times and make him open his mouth wider until it didn't hurt. He is doing great and pooping and peeing up a storm.  This gives me peace that he is getting enough nourishment.

I am amazed by my own body that it can provide perfect nutrition for another human being. I love nursing him because I feel so connected and close to him. I know it is strange to those who have never experienced it, but there is nothing like it. I don't have words to describe the beauty of it.

Weighty Issues

Tell me please how it is possible that you can gain 37 pounds over the course of a pregnancy, have an eight and a half pound baby, get on the scale the day you come home and only have lost 5 pounds!!!!!!!!! That means I must have GAINED like 3 pounds in each breast!

I don't want to talk about it anymore.

Unwrapping The Gift

Here you are baby Vance all wrapped up inside of me. This was taken the night before you were born, less than a week ago. Those are your brother's hands, each eager and excited for your arrival. It seems impossible to me now that I didn't know you then. As soon as I laid eyes on you, I felt I had known you forever. 

But, I had been waiting. I knew always that we needed you here.  How blessed I am that I get to have the gift of you! It overwhelms me.

How lovely you are my sweet baby boy. You like to be swaddled tightly like you were in my womb. But, I have to unwrap you from your blanket over and over again just to take in your newness- your feet, your hands, your legs and arms (which always seem to get away from you), your sweet smell. I want to breath you in. 

One of our nurses in the hospital told me such a sad story when we were there. She didn't mean to. It was just that our conversation meandered down one road and ended up there. She once had a son. At eight and a half, he was diagnosed with leukemia and a year later, he was gone. That was two years ago. We cried together over her loss. As she left the room, I begged the Lord to heal her broken heart. And then I looked down at you sleeping in my arms and cried out, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Again, overwhelmed at the blessing of you, unworthy of the gift. Four healthy children. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!

Your features are so perfect. I wonder at how your ears were knit together in my womb.
I remember this foot just a week ago kicking me from the inside. I dwell on the miracle that you went from not breathing to knowing that you must breath, to being fed through an umbilical cord to knowing that you must suckle to live. 
So as I unwrap the gift of you today, I discover a sweet newborn baby adjusting to the world. But, the blessing is that each day will bring a new gift, a new discovery of who you are. 
So again I say thank you to the Giver of good gifts for the gift of you.

Introducing Our Precious Child

On Wednesday morning at 8:17am, we joyfully welcomed a baby boy into this world. He weighed 8 pounds, 4.5 ounces and is 20 inches long. I say that we welcomed a baby boy because at that point, we did not have a name. We had a girl name the whole time and could never decide on a boy name. Some commentary from the doctors and nurses when he was delivered were-

"Oh, look at that beautiful head"

"A boy, definitely a boy!"

"Wow, he's big."

"He's 8 pounds, 4 ounces."

"Are you sure? Weigh him again. He looks big."

"8 pounds, 4 and a half ounces."

"He's beautiful!"

I listened to all of this without being able to see anything but my husband's face. He looked fascinated by what was going on. I must have looked anxious because at this point the anesthesiologist decided to give me some anti-anxiety medication. I wish he would have told me. Instead he whispered it to my sister. So as I went into the recovery room for an hour (after wheeling by the 30 family members waiting outside), I was freaked out because I couldn't focus my eyes on anything and felt totally loopy. My face started itching really bad.  All I could think about was that my baby needed a name. So I went over the names Jason and I had talked about and decided on one. But, I was irritated because I couldn't talk to Jason about it for an hour. My face kept getting worse so by the time I reached my room, my face was extremely swollen and red- like Rudolph! And I could not stop itching. Okay, I know you want pics and I am rambling on so here are his sweet little feet. Look at those long toes!

                                             And here is our sweet boy.

                                                      I just love that face. 

Then when I got to my room, they offered me some ice chips. I vomited them back up. So my first day consisted of a very itchy, red swollen face, vomiting, blurry vision, being spaced out and a lot of visitors. My husband sat next to me and all I wanted to do was be alone with him for a minute to decide on a name. It was difficult. We finally got a moment and named our sweet boy Vance. 

The next day when I was told about the anti-anxiety meds which explained what the deal was with me, I started thinking, "Wow, I decided on his name when I was high. This is a big decision to make. I hope it is okay." I think it is a big name for a little guy, but will be a very cool name when he gets bigger. Jason's comment to my fretting was, "I like the name. He will grow into it." He's not a big talker, but is decisive. Okay, I'll let it go. 

Here we are this morning getting ready to come home from the hospital. Sorry, I won't post any of the swollen, red face. I'm not over it yet! 
Here's me with my FOUR, yes FOUR, did you hear me?- FOUR BOYS! Three of them look a little scraggly because they came straight from a baseball game to pick me up. Don't worry, I'm over the girl thing. They have all promised to give me granddaughters. Yes, I even made Vance promise. I look a little tired here. I am saying goodbye to the relative peace and quiet of the hospital room. It really isn't quiet because the nurses are always coming in, doing vitals, giving meds, changing sheets, etc. But, relative to the volume and business level of my home, it was peace and quiet.
And he slept all the way home!
So, my sweet baby Vance- welcome to this world and welcome to our home. You are loved with an overwhelming, overflowing, unconditional love that cannot be contained. You have a family that now feels complete because you are here.

It's A Boy!

Yesterday morning at 8:17am, our son was born. He is beautiful! The wireless isn't working in the hospital, so I am writing this on my Blackberry.I will write more and post pictures as soon as I can, but for now this sweet little gift and I are doing great.Thank you for your prayers and support.

Less Than 24 Hours to Go!

At this point, I am excited and a little apprehensive. A little fear keeps popping up because this is my fourth c-section. This stemmed from a comment by a mom I know who is also an obstetrician. When she found out it was my fourth c-section, she said, "Wow, you are really rolling the dice." That wasn't very nice of her. But that is where the seed of fear was planted and I am prayerfully digging it out. There is no go going back now, this baby has to come out. 

The past few days I feel like someone beat the whole lower half of my body with a stick. Walking is a little precarious and my hip joints and my back need some serious oil. I feel a little like the Tin Man before he is completely oiled, but with a giant belly. All gracefulness has abandoned me.

One of the things I am most excited about is that I get to be in the hospital. I know some women can't wait to get out and go home. Not me! I am so excited to just rest, have people bring me food (I am not picky about hospital food), and drugs when I need them. Hotel time for me.

A lot of family is going to be there. It is wonderful to be so loved. 

Thank you for all of your love and support. I am hoping to post from my mom's laptop tomorrow afternoon to give you the news of our sweet baby. 

Nesting

Three days to go and I am officially nesting! It is strange this time because it includes things like making sure all three boys have hair cuts, their nails and toenails trimmed and that they have shoes that will last for the next three months.  

My friend Jen loaned me her very cute bassinet. The boys helped me take it apart, wash it and put it back together. It looks like they are giving it some kind of tune up. There was a lot of discussion about what snaps where and a lot of laying under it. But, it is together and ready.

Here is my big sis helping me make some chocolates for the kids to take to school with them on Wednesday. I am scheduled for 7:30am so Luke and Jack will go to school a little late. Their classes are so excited to find out if it is a boy or a girl and this way, the boys will have something to give to their friends. I'll show you the finished product below.  I couldn't get this picture to move next to the other ones, but I wanted you to see my sis. I call her "The Cutifier" because she has the ability to make all things very cute. 

Here is the bassinet all put together, ready for our new little life.

Pink or Blue? We shall soon see.  Both of these "coming home outfits" are so sweet I can barely stand it. I'm going to wait to wash them so I can return the other one. I'm in the hospital for three days so someone in the family can wash it before it is time to bring the baby home.

Because we don't know what we are having, here is one of two small drawers of layette. I just love opening them and looking at the baby things inside. Everything is washed and ready to go.

I bought myself a diaper bag. At first, I was very confused about this choice after 3 years out of the baby loop and asked my Facebook friends for advice. Petunia Picklebottom won hands down. But then, I started paying attention when I was out and noticed that everyone seemed to have a Petunia Picklebottom. They are very cute, but I wanted something different. I found this one online. It is the Giraffe Print by Oi Oi. I didn't see it until it arrived in the mail, but I love it. 

The funny thing is that I saw an old high school friend yesterday and she had one by the same company. I said, "Oh, is that bag by Oi Oi ( wee wee)?" thinking I was very cool, and she said, "yes, it is by ooo-eee, ooo-eee and I really like it." She was all straight faced because we hadn't see each other in like 20 years and I never really knew her that well to begin with. But, I am enough of a dork to think it was hilarious that I called the my new diaper bag "wee, wee."

This is the "almost finished" product of the chocolates the kids will take to school. I bought the stickers below for them to put on at the hospital.

Finally, this is the picture I keep looking at because although I feel kicking and I have done this three times before and I know there is actually a baby inside of me, this is visual proof. The ultrasound was done in early February and I still can't get over this picture. I love the position of the fingers, the lips and that the baby already has a tattoo.

Luke said to me tonight as I was putting him to bed, "Mom, wouldn't it be weird if we thought there was a baby in there the whole time, but when it came out it was just a big ball of ear wax?"  This picture gives me the peace that this is no ball of ear wax!

Ty's Style Update #3

Can you believe this little firefighter is going to be a big brother in less than a week? I think he likes being the baby of the family so I am hoping he does okay adjusting to having someone else take that spot. 

I just asked him what he thinks about being a big brother and he said, "I get to carry the baby." I might have to change that to "hold" as "carry" implies that he would be walking around. He says he thinks it is a boy and he wants to name it Max. 

Ty says that he is putting out the fire in the picture above. Serious business!
This handsome little chief was snuggling in bed with me this morning and I was worrying about his middle of the night sneaks into our bedroom. It might have to stop once we have the baby because he is always right next to me and there is no room. I'm trying to think of the best way to approach it with him. I probably should have addressed it sooner, but ... I didn't!

One Week to Go!- But who's counting?

So this should be one of my deep posts about a new life coming in one week or something like that, but I am feeling a little selfish today. I am feeling a little ugly, even though all of these lovely people keep telling me I look great. NOT FEELING IT PEOPLE! And, sorry, but I don't really believe you. I think that is just exactly what you should say to someone about to give birth.  I like hearing it so keep it coming, but I don't believe a word of it. 

I am not one of those people who likes to have a tan face. I took this picture of myself so you can see the "mask of pregnancy" or the dark splotches all over my face. It has been like the blob the past few weeks, slowly taking over my face. Oh, and don't ignore the little pimples.

My legs are usually one of my best features according to my dear friend Heather. However, this is no longer the case. My knees are disappearing. They are full of a lot of water. I can make dents on my shin bone- deep dents. By the way, this is not an easy picture to take of yourself. 

I want someone to pop me and let the air or water out. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just deflate into our skinny selves? 
To make things worse, my husband is still really cute. He has not gained a pound. In fact, he has lost weight which has caused me, for the first time, to outweigh him. He runs like nine miles or something crazy, rides his mountain bike to the top of Mount Everest each week and swims. He likes to do triathlons. So he looks really good. 

This is a little disconcerting when I feel like a giant round, waddling discolored blah! He got stung by a bee the other day which gave him slight swelling and redness on his head. Poor him!
This photos below was a part of my remedy. I got my toes painted a bright color. At least my toes look cute. I also got my hair colored and cut. A girls gotta do what she can.
And for the record, my husband always makes me feel beautiful even if I don't always believe him either. 

One week to go and I am looking forward to it mostly to meet our precious child, but also for many other selfish reasons. Forgive me!!