Waited to Exhale...

I left off nearly 4 years ago. I have more catching up to do now than ever before! I had a visit with a friend yesterday who vlogs. Kudos to her, as that is much too personal and in your face for me. But her boldness and her zest to share the life she loves with others drew out a passion in me I have had buried for a long time.

I left off hoping I was pregnant before my husband deployed, but thinking I was not. Here's your update: I was not. But we are 4 years down the road, so there is, as Paul Harvey says, the rest of the story. Spoiler alert: I did get pregnant. But not before my husband deployed. In fact, it was while he was deployed and I was able to go see him in Bahrain, of all places. I will share that story in another post. But I wanted to update the blog and get it going again. Breathe life back in. After all of the losses, and then finding out I was pregnant again, for the 8th time, I couldn't update. I couldn't write. I couldn't express; I couldn't breathe. Because in those moments of hope after loss, I was simply waiting to exhale. I couldn't write about a baby that may not come again. So I didn't write at all. But thanks be to God, that baby made it and is here today, as my precious soon-to-be three year old tomorrow! But during the deployment, carrying an entire pregnancy alone after I flew back home to the states after seeing my husband, after hoping and waiting he'd make it back for the birth, after still yet wondering if this baby would be born, and after the baby was born, I was still holding my breath. It took months of my living, breathing baby snuggling and cooing, eating and pooing... months--to finally believe the baby was here to stay.

Then my husband was home. Then we moved. And life continued. And I was busy. And hiding. And loving my blessings. So I left the story behind to take a part in it. I believe I have finally come to a place worth sharing, time to share, and things so wonderful they are ready to be shared once again.

So give me some time (days, not years this time!) and I will share the story of the rest of the story... now that I have exhaled.

The WaitinG GaMe

So... even though... we are trying again and even though we have lost three in a row and even though my husband is LEAVING FOR A YEAR!?!....WAIT... I DON'T REMEMBER IF I TOLD YOU ALL THAT?? HE DEPLOYS FOR A YEAR ON JUNE TENTH.. ON THE DAY OF OUR TEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY... TO THE DESERT... 

So... we just booked a Royal Caribbean cruise to the Eastern Caribbean for May. We can't guarantee I'll be pregnant by then. We sure hope so, but I'm tired of living in fear and regret. Two of the three islands are safe, one of them though, has of course, had a case of Zika. IF the news gets totally out of control before then, we may reconsider, but for now... we are taking this trip because we NEED the time together, the experience. He booked the biggest cruise ship in the world because, as I found out, he is afraid if he doesn't do it now, he might not ever (physically hurt, paralyzed, killed... you know, no big deal if your husband is scared that can happen right........ )

*BREATHE*

No pressure. Not only do we have maybe 4 months left of trying, but it actually has to stick and grow, and then don't even get me started on all the comments I've gotten on "Wouldn't you be better off waiting until he gets back to have a baby?" NO. No I won't. Physically yes maybe, but I can get help from family. Emotionally, nothing can fill the void of one year of not even being able to try ticking by. 

I'm on day 16 dpo and no period. No spotting. No signs of pregnancy or not pregnancy. Just waiting. The longer it takes, the more I freak out that I'll only have three months instead of 4. Negative tests two days ago, haven't tested since. It's just taking a long time to get here. I don't get why but I swear I'm not pregnant. The only time I've spotted was on 9dpo, which I thought was implantation. 

But no. No I am not pregnant. Temperature dips and no symptoms whatsoever. 

Tick Tock. Tick Tock. . . 

Starting Over

New OB doctor yesterday. That's right. After mistreating my thyroid I won't be going back to the previous clinic. In fact, all week my family practice office was trying to collect my past lab records from said past doctor, after finding out the miscarriage labs were not included in the full record requested, we became suspicious. After being told one day the records lady was out and the next day both were sick and my appointment time was approaching, I decided just to drive straight to the lab with ID in hand and request all labs. Sure enough they were there. And wouldn't you know!? The labs my said past doctor told me were normal four months ago, come to find out two of the labs were not normal but HIGH!??? WHAT??? So, in summary, they took a normal lab and told me it was abnormal and put me on medication that caused hyperthyroidism and the abnormal labs they told me were normal. WHY??.... Good question but I haven't felt like talking to them yet so they don't know I know and they don't know I'm going to a new OB and that's how I'd like to keep it for now.

So new OB. He was amazing! I spent one minute in the waiting room, 1 hour 15 minutes visiting with the doctor, 10 minutes doing an exam, and 10 minutes drawing labs. Contrary to popular belief or anyone's opinions, this OB gave me the green light on trying again, right away, as in, not even waiting one cycle. What!?! He told me while we wait for my thyroid to regulate and we wait for labs to come back, there is no reason that he can see why I shouldn't be pregnant and why my chances to carry to term are any less now than they would be in months from now. Also, any condition I test positive for in the labs will be able to be treated during pregnancy and anything I have now developed is nothing we can prevent but only treat, should I become pregnant. He also agreed that surgery was definitely not necessary at this time. Having had three babies, he says that is the last thing that can change so suddenly as to cause the miscarriages.

This appointment gave me new meaning, new hope, and a new start. No matter what we find with the labs, I believe I am in good hands. My insurance doesn't cover REs and at this point with everything I went through with supposedly a very good fertility high risk specialty clinic, clearly that didn't pan out very well. So I am grateful to be in competent hands. I feel a relief and a heavy burden lifted. I feel as though I really do have a good chance.

This last miscarriage, regardless of other issues, I now firmly believe could have been prevented had they not totally screwed up my thyroid and if they would have fixed the blood disorder and immunological issues prior to just suggesting surgery (had they told me in the first place what my labs were!)

...And one more makes FOUR...More Angel Babies Than Earthly Babies

THIRD LOSS...THIRD BABY...IN A ROW... FOURTH LOST TOTAL...SEVENTH PREGNANCY...6.5WEEKS

 1 miscarriage, followed by three live births, followed by three miscarriages...

I am 31. In 2009 I miscarried at 9 weeks, blighted ovum. A year later, after one  cycle of clomid I became pregnant and carried IUGR to 37 weeks baby boy 4lb 14 oz. 6 months later I became pregnant with my second baby boy carried to term 39 weeks and six months later became pregnant with my third boy at 40 weeks. My three healthy sons are 15 months apart. Did what I consider stupid and got the implanon put in my arm after the third. We discussed waiting two years to try again but by one year we were ready to try, took it out, and it took seven months to conceive. I miscarried at 11 weeks. This was in March.

4 months later I conceived and miscarried again at 11 weeks in September. This time blood work was drawn for TSH antibodies, blood clotting factors, etc. Baby was tested and it was a boy, with Trisomy 15. was told I have mild hypothyrodism. Put on T3.

Dr. recommended laparoscopy and hsg which we scheduled. A month before surgery we cancelled because I've never had endometriosis symptoms, really don't think I have it, and didn't want invasive surgery. We decided after fixing my thyroid and getting it regulated, and the fact that it was a chromosome abnormality and nothing could have been done, we cancelled pending surgery and decided to give it another go. I found out on Christmas day I was pregnant. HCG went from 115 to 384 in about a week, then in two days it went to 386. At this point I knew I was doomed. Ultrasound same day showed nothing. Friday.No sac, no baby, not even the black ovum thing where pregnancy would be. My OB made me wait over the weekend and the desk lady over the phone told me to take my progesterone shot just in case. WHAT?! I've been through this before, I knew that was pointless. So I didn't. On the following Tuesday my HCG was 364 and Wednesday I started cramping, then bleeding.

This third miscarriage was short lived and I miscarried last week, at 6.5 weeks. Funny thing is this pregnancy I actually felt pregnant. My progesterone (last two pregnancies was 8 and 13 consecutively) was 30! (I was on progesterone shots all three). So it was a surprise, to say the least. Dr. ordered my T4 to be drawn and it was low, so Dr. prescribed synthroid 50 mcg in addition to T3. 

My sister in law is a pediatric endocrinologist and has always been skeptical of T3 prescription. I went to my family practice doctor to check labs (behind obs back) and sure enough, found out my tsh was  .03.  YES POINT ZERO THREE. low is like .4 . Also found out after 4 months of T3 prescription, my t4 was still the same at .55.  Had family practice doctor request ob records. I never did see the Thyroid labs from four months ago until this week, after the miscarriage. Lo and Behold... MY THYROID LABS WERE ALL WITHIN NORMAL LIMITS!!! My reverse t3 ratio was slightly low but my T4 and TSH and FT4 and everything was perfect. My numbers were grreat. SO immediately tell my sis in law and she says to stop taking T3 immediately and see an endocrinologist. SO i did. And that Dr. told me to stop everything, don't take thyroid meds, I never had an issue in the first place and now the medicines (my dr.) has caused me to develop hyperthyroidism.  My OB still does not know I am not taking either of their prescribed medications nor that I received second and third opinions. 

NOW I Have to wait for my thyroid to regulate itself back to normal and pray that's possible. Can't say for sure with my history, but seems to me this pregnancy definitely didn't make it because my thyroid was whacked up. 

 I can find a lot of info on recurrent miscarriage but very  little on recurrent miscarriage AFTER repetitive live births. So what gives? 

4 main causes of miscarriage:

1. Uterus structure, abnormalities (Counting myself out as I've carried three to term)

2. auto immune, NK cells, etc. Again, carried to term but can you later develop this???

3. blood clotting factors (supposedly labs were negative, and I did take baby aspirin with all my pregnancies).

4. Chromosomal: Yes, I did have that proven as one pregnancy was but what about the rest? Is 31 really starting to get old for bad egg quality? Maybe I'm naive to think I still had a few good years left? 

Truth be told, I looked at my OB records that were faxed to my family practice doctor and discovered none of the miscarriage lab work was in there, aside the thyroid panel. Why wouldn't that be in my file? Curious. ANd why did they put me on T3 when I didn't have a thyroid issue to begin with and no one supposedly prescribes that anymore? 

I am on woebenzyme N now. In the previous successful and non successful pregnancies I took baby aspririn, folic acid plus prenatal, b6, b12. I am adding D to this one, I've taken coq10 on and off and am taking it now, also DHEA. While I'm awaiting to get pregnant again, i'm doing red raspberry leaf tea, I will be cutting back on caffeine. 

I have around 30 day periods and they are generally pretty light. My Luteal Phase seems good. I never needed progesterone during my three healthy pregnancies and the only times i ever took shots was when I miscarried which might just be coincidence but I'm skeptical. I've vowed not to take shots again I can barely handle them and do take suppositories and this time around I am getting the progesterone cream. I feel like my OB clearly doesn't know what they are doing even though they are supposed to be the best and I'm in the market for a new one. Even after three in a row I still don't feel like surgery is necessary. I'm willing to go through more miscarriages to catch a good pregnancy.

Wish I lived in London, I'd go to the miscarriage clinics. anything like that in US? 

I had a relative tell me that maybe it's a sign God has completed our family and we should stop trying. Don't tell people in my situation these things. This is not helpful. Not at all. You think I'm going to give up? No. This only makes me more determined. Also, if you've had one miscarriage, don't tell me you know exactly how I feel. You don't. Not even close. Just FYI. 

Another One Bites the Dust

"Dear God, please don't let the baby in Mommy's tummy die." Sometimes we don't get the answer we like. Sometimes bad things happened. Job had everything taken from him and he said, "The Lord gives and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord."

Sometimes we don't understand. Two miscarriages in a row. What? Why? Three total. What is going on? I intend to find out.

We went to see and hear the heartbeat on Friday Instead we saw what should have been a ten week baby measuring 6 weeks and 5 days with no heartbeat. DEVASTATING. AGAIN. WHY? We went back to the doctor on Tuesday to confirm the bad news, draw blood for testing, and make a plan. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday went by with nothing. So Friday afternoon about 12:30 I took my first 800 mcg dose of cytotec. Four hours later, nothing. Four and a half hours later, a tiny bit of blood. So I decided to sit down and "push." Even though there was barely any cramping or any signs at all, just as easily came out, the sac with baby inside. What the? Really? Here I was prepared for intense labor-like pains and that was all. About a half an hour later the placenta came out with  more pushing and it was over. That was it. After two previous losses I was bracing for pain. I didn't get it. I think it would have been easier if I had, then the experience wouldn't have been so surreal.

Monday morning, September 28th, my wonderful husband took the day off and we drove the baby to Omaha to be dropped off at the lab. My doctor would like me to undergo an HSG and an Endometriosis surgery around November. It's just another waiting game.

I think, to most people, it's "just another one" and therefore, I've been through it before so "no big deal." But the truth is, it's an even bigger deal because I've had to lose two in a row. No answers. No rhyme or reason. Yes, I'm blessed, I have three beautiful living sons. I get that and it is not lost on me in the least bit. But maybe that's why it makes it even harder. Why were they so easy and problem free and suddenly I have issues? What's going on?

Not much else to say right now. Just need time to heal I suppose. Need answers. When I get them, I'll post them.

And Here We Go! The Sixth Pregnancy is Upon Us!

That's right. It's true. Even though the first HCG blood draw said otherwise. Not every lab is accurate! Go early pee sticks!

Last pregnancy journey began May 2014. We tried for seven months. December 2014 came around and Bam! Pregnant! I won't drag it out and surprise you, but if you've been reading the prior posts, you'll know that was not a happy ending. March 2015 pregnancy/baby number 5 came to an end. Five months later and already we're at pregnancy 6!

I am only four weeks and four days today. I'm posting so early for a number of reasons. 1. No one really reads this blog that I know (if I don't know you thanks for reading!) 2. I don't want to miss out on recording such details, as I have yet to order my pregnancy journal and 3. I am in so much discomfort and pain that I cannot do anything else such as house work or cooking so I figured I will just write. Today is Wednesday August 12th. On Friday August 7th my HCG showed less than 5 and my progesterone was 13.5. The "lab guy" at my doctor's office told me "You probably didn't even ovulate because your progesterone was too low." Yet, that same day I had a phantom ghost line on a pregnancy test that I had to hold just right to see, and yet, it was always in the same exact place. Saturday morning during camping, I peed in a disposable cup in the outhouse, came out, husband looked at test and said, "Call your doctor. You're pregnant. Your labs are wrong." Saturday evening the test was darker and Sunday when we came home the digital read "PREGNANT 1-2" So take that lab test! Bam!

On Tuesday August 11th I had labs drawn again. Today I was called with the news. HCG 140, Progesterone 18. Good good good. My progesterone is still low so my Napro doctor wants me to continue supplementation. After much complaint about giving myself shots and the three day disability they render me useless each time, she has agreed to give me another alternative. I am very thrilled about this because I no longer have to jab a five inch needle into my hip twice a week. (Okay, 2 inches. And that's no joke.)

As I doubt anyone will actually read this, I feel safe posting. If I'm wrong, please don't go congratulate me on facebook. :)

After many dark storms I've had to deal with in the last several months, this is one of the positive that keeps me holding onto hope. My oldest son prays during dinner "Thank you God for the baby and please don't let it die." Amen. Sounds like a wonderful prayer to me!

No More Baby

I'll have to come in later when I have the time and patience to write this all out. I've written some, but not for sharing. Not yet anyway. But I wanted to update and say that I did have a confirmed ultrasound of no heartbeat on Friday March 6, 2015. March 8th I miscarried naturally at home so thank God for that blessing of no D&C. March 12, just when I thought it was all over, the shock of my life came when I went to pee and instead passed the baby. My world turned upside down and I'm still processing everything. Went in for an emergency ultrasound same day to confirm (again) that everything has indeed passed. That night I got on a train to visit my grandma who has terminal cancer. Came home that Sunday night. Have had just barely a week to think things over. Now I write this after my husband has left for drill for the weekend. Now I just process, move on, and hope for the next time around. That's all I have to share for now.

Waiting...for clarity and wisdom (Only read after post below)

Monday was the day the world changed.

Tuesday: I call my primary care doctor. I talk to her second in command, physician's attendant or something like that. I tell her about Monday. I ask her if they perform D&Cs. I explain I'd prefer to go there, close to home, with the lady doctors I have grown to trust. She is very nice. Very understanding. Very agreeable. She asks me to call her back Friday after my appointment and let her know what we found out.

Later that day I start concerning myself with HCG levels. I wonder if it is in my best interest to go ahead and get one done so Friday we will have a base line to compare it too. I call back. I speak to a nurse this time. She tells me she will check with my doctor and call back. Hours later she does. She tells me that my doctor isn't comfortable ordering the test because I have not been to the office, I have been 'seeing other doctors' and they just 'don't know enough about my situation to help out.' Ummm...what??!! Shock. Blown away. Shouldn't be. I already know their communication has been terrible. I ask the nurse if she knows why I want my HCG. She doesn't. I tell her to watch the numbers to go down, because I did not have a heartbeat. She says Oh. She understands now. But she stands firm. She says my doctor doesn't feel comfortable. MY Doctor. The one who I went to months ago about even trying to get pregnant. The one who took my blood in those early weeks and said "Congratulations you're pregnant." The same doctor who knew I'd be gone for a couple weeks. Also, the same doctor who recommended I go see someone else for trying to conceive (which just so happened to be the doctor who took Monday's ultrasound because all those months ago I forgot to cancel that appointment and went anyway.) It would appear as though my doctor is offended I saw one, ONE other doctor. Frustrating.

So now it's Tuesday and I sit around waiting for Friday because I have no other choice and obviously my own doctor's office isn't going to help me. Friends call. Family calls. I ignore half of them and cut it short with the other half. I'm sorry. I really am. But if one more person asks me how I'm doing. How do you think I'm doing? I can't answer that. If I do it won't be a good answer and if I can't answer, it's because I literally can't answer because when I start to think about it my eyes well up with tears. I know you want to help. I get that. But for now I just wait. I sit.  I wait. You want to help? you want to talk? Then pray.

While I'm desperately trying to talk to my own doctor, guess who calls? My new doctor. My male doctor from Monday. He calls personally. Twice. Twice. To see if I'm okay. To discuss questions. To formulate a plan. I told you last time that I liked him. This verifies.

Wednesday: The goal of today is to get through it, get a nap in, and go to work in the evening because I am already scheduled. This plan mostly works. The nurse calls from the naprotechnologist's office to let me know she received my ultrasound results from 6 weeks and 4 days. Nothing from that ultrasound triggers read flags for the future impending doom. Except, as she was about to hang up she said, "Did you know you have a tilted (tipped, retro, inverted, heart shaped) uterus?" I told her yes but I hadn't thought about it for a while. She mentions if there's a septum in there it could be the cause to this. Even if this is not the case, it gets me thinking. I start by faxing the results to my new doctor so that he knows about this so we can discuss Friday. Also, for a D&C I started imagining him scraping the wrong way if everything is backward and that scared me so I figured I better let him know immediately.

My Uncle calls. My Grandma has terminal cancer. I knew that. We have planned a gathering in two more weekends. But she's not well. She's going downhill. The cancer has possibly spread to her brain. Things are changing quickly. I have to make sure I can get out there. How do I plan this when I don't know what will happen with myself? How do I contemplate two possible losses? Sorry my friends who keep asking if I want to talk. But I can't. So I write. And you read.

Thursday: Today I'm just frustrated and mad. I start researching. I think about my tilted uterus and decide to research. Lo and Behold I find a tiny bit of hope. Now, let me prep you by letting you know that I 1. Believe in miracles but 2. Am not holding my breath and 3. Am prepared for the very worst. But... false miscarriages are abundant due to tipped uterus and the baby or heartbeat hiding where the ultrasound cannot find. By 11 to 12 weeks a tipped uterus will usually straighten itself out as the weight and size pull it forward. Gullible naive little me didn't even know that false miscarriages exist. I mean, it makes a lot of sense to me now but it was never a thought in my world until today. Which brings me to my frustration. If there's a tiny itty bitty chance or spark of hope, I do not want to line up a D&C next week without being 110% positive I will not be hurting a living baby. How do I get my 110%? The obvious answer is just wait it out. If only it were that simple. Besides the impatience, lost time, life to live, etc. (all not the greatest reasons granted), the biggest worry is sit and wait for an infection. But how do you know? A second opinion? Two ultrasounds? Three? HCG? So now, here I had it all planned out and the 1 in a million stories are giving me second thoughts. I know, 1 in a million, but still...there's 1. I can't even think further right now until after the appointment tomorrow. My husband never saw the first ultrasound. He only has hope to go on. So he had me take a progesterone injection tonight. Because what if? The worst thing in the world would be to lose the baby because we thought we were going to lose the baby! So I did. I injected. Hardest one ever for so many reasons. I had trouble getting the guts to stab myself since I wasn't in the routine. I had to move it twice before closing my eyes and literally stabbing it in. Also, emotionally I am doing this for a baby that I have been told is not there. This makes me seem like a crazy person, especially when you take into account the amount of discomfort and pain that will follow the next three days with this shot. But I haven't had any bleeding. None. Cramping...well...maybe? Maybe phantom cramps. I think I have tiny little cramps and maybe just because I think I'm supposed too. Might be something else. I don't really know. I thought bleeding comes before cramping, which also makes me think it's in my head. But point being, had I not went to that appointment, I would still have every reason to believe I'm just as pregnant as I was the week before. This is frustrating.

I just want clarity. Wisdom. Let your yeses be yes and your nos be nos. Hot or cold but lukewarm I spew out of my mouth. Etc. etc. etc. Either show me a heartbeat or start the process body. I don't want to wait 2, 4, 6 weeks. I don't want to go through it but if it's going to happen, I just want it to be done.
So here I am waiting. For clarity. For wisdom. Just waiting. Dear Lord please show me.

Is it better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?

First of all, let me do the shameful apology of explaining that I have not kept up to date and feel very bad about that. For several reasons but the main two are 1. My little Goose has been neglected in the blog world for I have not recorded his every perfect little thing for over a year and 2. My little Egg's story should have been started ten weeks ago and only now am I even mentioning him for the first time. So here we go... I'll try to get a little of each in and then I will attempt to keep up at least once a month, once again.


July 2014: My baby Elijah (Goose) is One! One year old! I cannot believe it. We decided this time around we would wait two years until trying again. But after getting pregnant every other time when the baby turned 5.5 to 6 months, we decided one year was long enough! Time to remove the Implanon and begin our trying to conceive journey for the fifth time. But this time, things were different. This time, we had to deal with birth control to leave the body and my body to return to normal. This time, I had periods 50 days long, irregular and random. This is not a good mix for an "impatient, I want to be pregnant now!" gal. August Passes. September Passes. Clomid makes its appearance to hopefully regulate me. October. November. Patience. Patience. Months. Trying. Failing. December. Christmas comes and goes. I decide to get a job to distract myself, to get myself out of the house a few nights a week, to have 'me' time and a little cash. I apply to the local BBQ joint. I am hired. I like it. It's fun. I socialize. I do well. We have one last attempt. January I pee on a stick. Lo and Behold! There's a BARELY THERE line, but a line yet the same! Seven months and a positive. Not bad. Not bad at all. The 'Egg' has made its appearance, we are pregnant! Now I am also working :/

I don't feel pregnant. I'm not sick. I'm always sick. This worries me. I go in. I request HCG and progesterone levels. HCG rises. This is good. This is positive. Progesterone is low. 11. This is bad. This is different. I have never had a progesterone problem in the past. What do I do? Lucky for me, I have a good friend who just so happens to be a fertility care practioner. She tells me my numbers are too low. She tells me to be seen immediately. I have not heard back from my doctor to tell me the same thing so I reroute things. I call the professionals in Omaha, the naprotechnologist. They see me the same day. They administer a progesterone injection. They send me home with an order of progesterone oil and some very long scary needles. From this day forth, I will inject myself in the backside with a shot every three days. This is okay. I can do this. I can endure this for my baby.

The shots hurt. Bad. The first one I almost pass out. I learn to lay on my side and inject. I learn to take my time pushing the thick liquid in. I learn a  heating pad is my best friend. I learn that if I do it wrong, I will not be walking for the next three days. Literally. They are that hard on me. Maybe this has to do with my back surgery. Maybe I am inserting wrong. Maybe I am just a wimp. I don't know. When I work, I take a vicoden and stay walking and standing and it's not so bad. When I come home and sit down in my chair, I cannot get out of it without help. I can barely put weight on my leg. I cannot roll out of my bed. This will be hard. This will be the hardest early pregnancy I've ever had. But I am still not sick. My husband says "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away" so maybe this time not being sick is a blessing. I can work through the first trimester.

At five weeks my HCG was 906. Four days later my HCG was 2,886. Good. Going up. Wonderful news. February 2nd I note that I am still not feeling sick, This still worries me in the back of my mind. February 9th I am in Colorado on a visit to see friends and family while my husband is on a submarine in the ocean out by Hawaii doing his two week 'deployment'. I have an Ultrasound today. My dear friend is with me. We wait forever. Finally we go in. The tech finds the baby right away and the yoke sac, we see a heartbeat! We see it! It's there, a live, growing baby! We are ecstatic. Happy. Relieved. 119 BPM. This is good. So good. Baby measuring four days smaller than what we thought. They date me 6 weeks 3 days instead of 7 weeks. I can deal. Implantation could be off. Doesn't matter. There's a heartbeat! Egg is thriving!

February 15:My right shoulder has been bugging me for six weeks. I think I slept on it wrong. It won't get better. I'm in so much pain from that, my back, and these shots I can barely move. I find a massage therapist. On a Sunday even! He grinds my back to a pulp. Can't say it helped. I think I asked for too much deep tissue.

February 21st: I'm home. Waiting for my husband's arrival home. I decide to chop off my bad hair dye brown job. Chop it all off. Like short. Dye it blonde. I love it! It's freeing. Easy. Sexy! ;)My friend takes the older boys for the night so I can rest a good night until Dave returns the next day. I slept the full night and did not wake up once!Amazing!

I'm taking baby aspirin, folic acid, prenatal, and progesterone. I have mostly cut out all coffee and caffeine. I have maybe one cup a week max. I increased my healthy foods intake, my milk. I get my progesterone measured again. 28, very good! Shots are working. I decide maybe it's time to go see the doctor again. My regular doctor did tell me to come see her once I got back.But I debate seeing her. I don't like how her staff never calls me back in an appropriate amount of time (four days?!) How the nurses call me back when I ask for the doctor to, and when I find out my results on my own days before the office calls me. I decide I need to check other options and maybe find someone to back her up in case there's issues (I already have low progesterone). So I schedule an appointment with a highly recommended male doctor further away, located at the same hospital Elijah was born at. I love that hospital so if I decide to deliver there it would be perfect.

March 2nd Appointment Day: I drive up early with all three boys. They are not the most obedient this morning. I have to drag Gus into the office. I am late. The lady at the desk has to tell me first that she has to go check to see if the doctor "will still see me." This sets me on edge. I drove an hour for nothing? She comes back and says he will. I am immediately taken back. We talk with the male nurse. He is good with the kids. He gets my history. Doctor comes in. I'm already a nervous wreck because 1. I am late, 2. my children are noisy and disobedient. He calms me. He has great bedside manner. He doesn't care about either. He is nice. I tell him my concerns about my original doctor. He is so nice. He says it is okay if I even just come up to see him once or twice more. He will do my 20 week ultrasound. I like him. I decide I'll keep him. I decide to ask one more silly question. How likely can you miss twins at six weeks? He says it's possible and if he wants he'll just take a peek. I said "Just like that? You'd do an ultrasound? Doesn't it cost a lot more?" Amazingly, he says he gives free ultrasounds. We could look at baby every time if I want. The only one that costs is the 20 week. I definitely like him now. Nurse goes to get ultrasound machine.

Boys are excited. Boys want to see "baby sister." How disappointed they'll be if it's a boy! Doctor puts probe on my tummy and turns machine on. Boys look. Boys ask where is baby? Nurse distracts them with blow up glove balloons while doctor and I look. The screen is fuzzy. I don't see a baby. I see the uterus. I see a blob. I can't make out blob. This is taking a long time. A lot longer than it should. I look at doctor. He looks concerned. I look at screen. He points out my heartbeat. He turns on the colors. He looks at me. I get nervous. I look at him. I said "It's not good is it?" He says, "No....(pause)... I'm sorry.... (pause).... I can't see the heartbeat." I start to cry. My belly is shaking. I try to stay still. His face is worried, his words are soft and compassionate. I say, "He's gone?" He says, "I think so. I can see where the fetal pole would be but there is no heartbeat." He says we can try again in a week, sometimes he's seen this then later seen a heartbeat. I said, "What are my chances of that? Honestly?" He says, "I'm sorry. Not very good. The baby is not near as big as it should be at ten weeks." He puts his hand on my leg. He says he is sorry. I cry. The boys ask "Where's the baby? We want to see the baby." I tell them.I tell them the baby stopped growing. The baby died in my tummy. Even Elijah catches on. He's 19 months. He says "Momma sad?" I say yes, Momma sad. The doctor turns the machine off. I ask him if I should still take my progesterone that night. He says no. He believes it is over. He says to talk to my husband and decide what we want to do. He is so very sorry. He says to call him. He will call me back and personally talk to me. I tell him I will. He again squeezes my shoulder and apologizes. He leaves. I am left to herd the boys out the door. I am left to get them safely to the van, to the store, to home. Just I am left.

March 3rd: Today. Today I write. Today I think. Today I process. I don't understand.Yes I know chromosomally, things can go wrong (yes that's a word I just said it.) But I did things right, I took all the right things, all the miscarriage preventers. And still. 5 pregnancies. 3 babies. 3 beautiful wonderful little boys. Not four. Unusual. Once you see a heartbeat the chances of miscarriage decrease significantly. I called the doctor back today. My husband wants to see the ultrasound. He still has a grain of hope that maybe it was a fluke. Now we wait. We wait for the appointment Friday. We wait for the miscarriage. We wait to schedule a D&C if necessary. We wait for me to regulate again, we wait for cycles to come and go, and we wait to try again. And mostly, we wait for the pain to lessen and the healing to begin. We wait.

I'll continue in a few days about my beautiful blessings and their growing, but now, I've exhausted all I have. I just had to get that out. Time to wait.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are grey. You'll never know dear how much I love you, until my sunshine you're taken away."

Simply Rich

There's a bank commercial I saw recently that describes how I feel about my dreams. I'm probably wrong but my recollection of the commercial goes something like this: The man meets woman and is inspired. Man marries woman. Man buys house and has own writing desk, ready to write his great American novel. Shortly after, wife is pregnant and the room continues through the different steps of life, never any writing actually being accomplished, as the room is then used for a nursery, kid room, etc. etc. At the end, he is probably in his mid-forties to early fifties and has sat down, finally, to write his story. This is me. This is the life I have currently portrayed for myself; this current post is how I feel about it.

My dreams may never be, but there's more to life than me. Yes, that is my original quote I put on Facebook the other day and had mixed reactions. The ones who 'got' it, really 'got' it, but most did not. If I never write, my dreams are not necessarily unfulfilled. But that is okay because in the great space between beginning dream and accomplishment lies life, and right now, my life is full of three little boys who continue to require my undivided and never ending attention. These are the things that really matter and the true dreams are living and surviving while we 'think' our dreams are not being fulfilled.

I am told all the time by those beyond my experience that I need to just enjoy the moments and live in the day, as time flies by so quickly and all of a sudden, you are left alone with no more children to fill the house. I understand this and I try daily to remember this. But in life's greatest moments of love, there are also life's greatest frustrations, challenges, and stressors. The key is figuring out a way to open your eyes to a balance: an appreciation of the blessings and an understanding and patience for the trials.

I have been attempting to study Ecclesiastes lately, which gives a dreary but real perspective of what really matters. "Everything that will be done has been done before." I told my husband my writing would be noticed but not until I die. If so, so be it. Because I firmly believe anything that happens on this earth will not be going with me, nor will anyone truly benefit of it after I am gone. But the moments of love, family, children and the memories created within living life are the things that really matter. Our souls go on and we decide their fate. Once my soul is in heaven, I can only hope I lived a life noticeable enough to those I love to also help their decisions guide them heavenward.

I have been pursuing my book lately. There are so many rules and stipulations to publication and contests I think I have concluded that I better just decide to write for myself and those I love, because no one else cares unless you know the right people. By right people, I mean people who believe you're good enough for them to pocket off your work. Because of this conclusion, I will continue to attempt to live in the moments of my life, the precious moments where my one year old (22 months, not yet 2 but still just 1!) wants to snuggle in my lap for the fifteenth time today even though he has spilled his cheerios, wiped his nose on my sleeve, demanded a pacifier, and climbed out of bed during nap time eighteen different times. Because of this conclusion, I will hold my six month old during a small quiet time because he is too upset to go to sleep and much prefers sitting in my lap and playing with a toy, licking my finger with a little bit of toaster strudel frosting, looking up at me and cooing with his big grin and sweet laughing eyes. Because of this conclusion, I will laugh at my three year old when he does something he thinks is hilarious but is really pretty lame. I will let him drive his metal car across the vent because he is using his imagination, even though my nerves are so frayed I can barely stand one more noise while trying to clean the kitchen and listen to my show in the background. Because of this conclusion, I will simply live. My children may benefit from the small portions I actually am able to write down but they don't care about my full book. They don't care about my swept floors or clean laundry.

 I may never be known, famous or rich. Not to strangers. Not with money. But I am known every time my baby smiles at me. I am famous when I sit down on the floor and help build the same train track every day, three times a day. And let me tell you. I am surely rich. I am blessed to be more rich than I could ever imagine because I have four wonderful boys in my house. I have a husband who loves and appreciates me even if I don't have a clean house or a meal prepared or an income. I have a three year old who is still so innocent to give his Momma kisses and ask for help putting on his undies. I have a one year old who has carried on full sentence conversations with me for months, always ready for a hug and a snuggle. I have a six month old who knows the language of cooes and smiles and loves greater through his expressions than language could ever express. Yes, indeed, I am rich. Simply rich.

November

The cold is coming quickly now, especially with our heater not working. Our house is currently 61 degrees and with three babies, that's pretty cold! Today outside it warmed up to 29 degrees. Gotta love the start of winter!

Elijah is now three and a half months old. Yesterday he giggled for the first time. He is such a sweet little guy. A few nights ago he had a fever of 102.4. At three months and under they say to go to the ER for 100.4 and up. At three and a half months, apparently that is far enough away from three months, that when I called the ER, I was told to give him Tylenol and see if that helped. I unbundled him which lowered his temp in the first ten minutes and then I gave him Tylenol. By morning he was back to normal. He seems to be congested a bit and it makes it a little hard for him to breathe through his nose.

Matthew turns three soon. He understands what that means now. He already know what he wants for his birthday (a flashlight) and what kind of cake he wants (a cars chocolate cake). He also seems to think he wants a party. Funny little guy.

Augustus talks an awful lot now, even several phrases. He began talking around 14 months and is now 20 months. Matthew didn't even say more than about five words until he was about 26 months! So it has been interesting to watch them develop differently. Gus gets frustrated easily and wants so badly to be understood. With a little patience and time out, this is possible, I have found. He also used the potty for the first time ever by himself (meaning he sat down before he started going not me running him to the potty in the middle of going!). He was pretty thrilled about the concept of MandMs. I'm not going to push him anytime soon, but if he asks, I get him set up.

So this past week I gave my full effort at cleaning. Meaning, every spare moment I had, I'd clean something, with the focus on keeping the main floor spotless. I must say, this wasn't so hard when motivated. Not only that, but I kept up with laundry, sweeping, and dishes. And, every day I picked a closet or a shelf to organize. We are getting ready for the holidays because it is always nicer to have clean places to decorate and set your new gifts. We have Thanksgiving at the ranch, so we won't be home to make a mess. :) Then we have three birthdays: Dave, Mathhew, and myself. Plus of course, Christmas, which we plan to celebrate alone at home. I truly love this time of year and am very much looking forward to all of it.

I don't read the news. There is a good reason for that. My husband informs me of stories I do not care to hear and lets me know the news I maybe should hear. For this reason, I am grateful to be living in a small town, not that things could not happen here of course, but it gives me a bit of comfort.

Matthew asked Dave for a little sister, randomly this weekend while they were working in the garage. I swear I said not a peep to give him that idea! Funny kid, I guess he has our genes, because about this time after each baby is when we consider the next one. Sorry to tell him though, we have taken preventative measures (aside sheer absolute desire not be pregnant right now!) to keep this from happening, at least for a while anyway. Three under three is more than two handfuls right now! And I only have two hands, so we'll have to wait until individual comeptency becomes upon Matthew. :)
Speaking of hands full, I must go for now, as the middle child is kicking in the crib ready to escape nap time, while the noises of the kicks are hitting the monitor in my bedroom which just so happens to be where a sleeping baby lies, so I must go quiet the kicks before I have two awake too early instead of just one!

Keep On Living

                      Elijah Paul, July 26, 2013, 7 lbs and 14 ounces, 21 inches long, 5:34 AM. 

Yes, yes, I should have posted long ago. It has been six weeks since my third son flew wildly into this world, and I am just now posting about his beautiful self. In fact, I write quickly as he lies on the floor next to me, already starting to squirm, as big brother Matthew plays with letters and middle brother Augustus snoozes away the afternoon in bed. :) So much has happened and I haven't been faithful to record it and for this, I feel quite bad. Keep on living, I must tell myself. Life goes on and can be enjoyed even if not recorded. I would say I'm super busy but that's not always the case. Sometimes I just need a break, a tv show, a snack, a nap, a shower, etc. etc. etc. I don't always get the opportunity to get on the computer and when I do, I forget to write.

I will quickly recap the last several months to the best of my knowledge, for the memories of before Elijah and shortly after, all deserve to be remembered.

MAY

May 25 we brought the two boys to the Omaha Zoo with Grammy, Grampy, and Grandma. Two months and one day from the arrival of Elijah, I'm feeling pretty worn out and pretty big! It's nice to have the extra hands to help with the boys. 

JUNE

Grammy and Grampy come out. With the extra help, Dave and I are able to head to Omaha for our anniversary date! We walk around old market downtown, look through little shops, buy some amazing coffee called tap dancer that I think Dave loves more than Starbucks, and we end our date at Brother Sebastian's steakhouse for a phenomenal meal! I order the crablegs and fillet mignon. It was a wonderful date and time away. 

JULY

 The onslaught of continual company begins! In fact, beginning July 3rd, we continued a house full of company for nearly 58 days, except for one single day in between! July 3rd, Uncle Adam arrives, along with Grandma Ann, Grandpa Dan, and Connie.

 Uncle Adam drove from Massachusetts in his truck and trailer toy hauler. He brought his bike and even his big guns for a little fun in the field!

 Lazy days spent poolside with Grandpa Dan and Connie, Grandma  and Uncle Adam, all taking turns getting the boys wet (and them getting us wet!)

We went to the Auburn fireworks the night of the 4th, and even though they started way too late! (like 1030) they were quite spectacular as we were sitting right beneath the action. It was nice that we could just walk to them. Then we put the boys to bed and Uncle Adam and Dave lit off bottle rockets right from the driveway.

The same Sunday Grandpa left, Grammy and Grampy arrived. I think they came so early in hopes that Elijah had the same idea, but nope! Day after day, we played with the boys, lots of stories were read, cleaning was done, good meals were made, but baby stayed put! Until...

THE BIG EVENT (six weeks later!)

Dave had the birth planned from the beginning. He wanted to hit the week when he had the maximum time off saved up. Meaning, he wanted me to go into labor on a Thursday night before a nuclear Friday (no work Friday) so that he would have Fri, Sat, Sun, then he'd go back to work Monday and essentially never take any time off. Guess what? The bum won. It happened just like that.

Thursday July 25th, one day after my due date, I had an appointment to have my membranes stripped. Dave, Mom, and I drove up to the doctor appointment in the afternoon (Dave left work in the afternoon) and we saw the doctor. Being we lived over an hour from the hospital, the idea was to have the strip work so that we could be admitted that night and possible be induced if necessary. The doctor stripped my membranes at my 2:15PM appointment. It was ROUGH! She really did A LOT, as she knew I wanted to go into labor on my own! She stripped until the top of my head turned red and then decided to quit. Yeah, never hurt before but this was the worst! Then we drove to the mall and walked around Scheels for a while. Then we got starbucks in Scheels and Mom walked some stores while Dave and I just walked... and walked...and walked... we went to best buy, a shoe store, outside. I just kept trying to move. I felt a little crampy but nothing that ever stayed. If I stopped moving, the pains stopped, just like supposed false labor. I got a call from my Doctor (Dr.Sides, Avery, who just so happens to be a family friend as she married a classmate of mine, so we knew each other prior and had hung out years before at Dave's family branding) she called me at 4PM and told me her afternoon plans, that she was going to go for a run and then to have me meet her at the hospital at 6PM to check me to see if we've progressed. After we walked, we decided to head toward the hospital but first we ate at applebees. I had french onion soup and a salad that really wasn't very good. But the soup was! I was a bit uncomfortable and we were at the bar area so I was standing most the time while leaning on the tall stools. On the way to the hospital from the mall and all through dinner, I was timing my 'contractions' which were all three minutes apart like clockwork. We get to the hospital at about 7PM. The nurse checked me and she said I was only 1.5 cm. I doubted her because at 2PM strip, i was 2 cm and afterwards Dr.Perfilio told me I was now 2.5cm. Dr. Sides finally got in at about 8PM and she checked me and said I was definitely 2.5, maybe 3. I had to be 3CM to be admitted, so she had me walk laps in the maternity ward for an hour. By now, I was walking laps with Dave and every round we'd make I'd have a contraction, some enough that I had to stop walking. I called in my doula Diana just in case. She took over walking laps with me so Dave could take a break. I rounded a corner with Diana and Dave and we walked into Dr.Sides. She asked me how I was feeling. I told her I didn't think it was real and I didn't think I'd go into labor that night. Dave called microtel a mile away because I decided I also didn't want to drive back home. So Dr.Sides said she'd check me again and we could make our decision. She checked me and I was 3cm and she put me on a contraction monitor. As everyone was talking about the plan, the monitor consistently beeped every three minutes and I wasn't doing very good keeping conversation. I kept saying I wanted to go to the hotel so that Mom and Dave could sleep but finally I decided they should go and I should stay in the hospital because I didn't think I could go to sleep at the hotel. After this, Mom and Dave decided they would stay with me. By 11PM I got to my room. They had to ask me a ton of questions and all I wanted to do was get into my hot jetted labor tub. Finally I was able too. Dave had a headache and I was so concerned with him my doula finally told him to go lay down and helped him make his bed so I'd quit worrying about him. My mom I think was out somewhere on a couch or chair reading, trying to give us some space. My awesome mom made me three maternity gowns and the prettiest one for labor, I didn't want to get wet so I took it off, took a hospital gown to cover me while in the tub, we turned the lights off, and I labored in the tub with the doula by my side. My doula put counterpressure on my lower back every single contraction except a few, and trust me! I definitely felt the difference. She was a life saver, so was the tub! Dave's headache was better after a while. He was by my side everytime I needed him. He held my hand a lot. My mom was in and out of the room as well, giving me water, checking on me. My nurse kept wanting me to get in bed to monitor the baby and so every once in a while (every hour?) I would get out of the tub and into the bed, which totally sucked compared to the tub. I tried bouncing on a birth ball and leaning over the bed which helped. Every time, baby was perfect. So every time, I'd head back to my warm heavenly tub. I want to say around 4AM they finally checked me. I was soo mad! I wished they didn't because here I thought I'd be a 7 and I was only a 4! Talk about a let down. So at this point, my endurance and mentality was going way down and I started to beg for drugs, even the risk of an epidural which I know is not possible in my back, but of course, no one listened. Even my nurse, at this point, told me I'd make it and that I didn't need drugs, that they really wouldn't help anyway. I was surprised she was even against it, which actually helped me mentally think I could cope with what I wanted to be as my natural labor, and so I stopped asking. I think by 5, or 5:15 Dr.Sides came in for the first time and wanted to check me again. I think I was at a 7. I remember tapping her on the shoulder next to my bed and telling her to break my water now and let's get this over with. She said "You got it" and we got going. I laid in the bed and I remember someone on a phone with my main doctor (Dr.Sides was the head intern at the hospital, my main doctor was from the clinic at Offutt, the doctor I've been seeing for appointments) and they told her to get here quick. They also called another intern that was supposed to assist. Dr.Sides broke my water and I suddenly hit transition in no time at all. I felt like pushing quicker than I was supposed too. Probably within five minutes of her breaking my water I told her I felt like pushing. She checked me and said I was only at a nine and I'd have to wait, also my cervix was still over the head and if I pushed now I'd risk tearing my cervix. I told her I couldn't help pushing so I tried to breathe through a few. In just another two minutes she told me I was full but the cervix was still over the head so I could push, but she'd have to keep her fingers inside to keep the cervix out of the way. Talk about annoying, distracting, and uncomfortable! But I didn't care, I was done! So I pushed! I think I gave two hard pushes and his head was out. My doula took my hand and reached down so I could touch his head. Once I did that, I was over! I pushed one hard quick push and his body literally flew out so fast Dr.Sides was unprepared but she caught him. Along with his body, about a gallon (half a gallon?) of fluid, blood, etc. also flew out of me and splattered the room, all of the nurses and the large mirror they brought in (that I may have glanced at once if that). It was a three ring circus now because Dr.Sides was unprepared, she caught him, flung him onto my chest, a nurse slid on the liquid, tripped over my IV, ripped it from my arm as the sweet baby boy emptied his bowels all over my stomach and chest. The cord pulsated for a while, clean up crew began, and THEN the doctor who was supposed to deliver me, walked in the door. Baby Elijah was born! Elijah in the Bible flew up into heaven, and so it was, Baby Elijah was named, who flew out of my body in one quick movement. Then Dr.Sides delivered the placenta and they literally dug in me to pull out clots! I nursed him right away and he nursed for forty minutes! They didn't even take him to weigh him until after I got to hold him that long. Dr.Sides and Dr. Masters stitched up my second degree tear. (I pushed so hard and fast without warning that Dr.Sides didn't have a chance to assess the baby's position, which was both shoulders in the wrong position coming out at the same time).The stitching was no fun. My legs kept shaking and I tried to distract myself with the squirmy baby on my chest. After they were done, we made everyone leave the room including my mom, except for the nurses who were weighing baby and doing vitals, so that Dave and I could decide on baby name. We had a few in mind, but after the events that happened and seeing the baby, we decided on Elijah Paul. Clean up, paperwork, then we rested. Mom hung out with us and we took turns cuddling baby until Grampy and the brothers could come see Elijah for the first time. They showed up around 9:30/10AM and we took first family photos. Matthew knew his name already as he was repeating all the way up in the car ride. Gus didn't really care, he just wanted Momma to hold him and then walk around the room. They stayed for a little over half an hour, Daddy took them out to look at a fountain and I nursed again, then Mom rode home with them and Dave and I stayed that day and overnight until the next early afternoon before we went home. He was circumsized the next morning and all went well. Then we went home. 

AUGUST

 UNCLE DAVID AUNT JODI COME TO VISIT! AND PHOTOGRAPH! YAYY! BOYS LOVED THEM!

Mom and Dean stayed with us until August 11th I think? I can't even remember anymore! But they were great help with the boys. The boys still ask me where Uncle David and Aunt Jodi are. I tell Matthew they had to go home. But it was nice to see them a couple of days while they stopped through on their road trip.

When Mom and Dean left, Becca, Jourdan and their kids came to visit. We had fun except then our entire family except Elijah caught strep throat halfway through their visit and so it was a huge bummer to have our great friends just sitting at our house, taking care of us, while we were all super sick. I appreciate Becca more than words can describe! She cooked and cleaned and helped with the boys. I am so grateful for their friendship and just wish our visit was smoother. 

Ann and Joel came after that and stayed a week. They were also super helpful, Grandpa Joel even folded laundry! 

 and read stories!

 and watched the baby so Dave and I could shoot a little!

 And cuddled the baby!

 And brought the boys to the park!

 And cuddled the baby some more!

This past week, we drove home to SD because Dave had labor day off, only had to take Tuesday off, because Wed he had off to drive to a meeting in Columbus all day Thursday. So, we went home Friday evening and left the ranch Wednesday to get to Columbus. It was a great visit where we got to see all our relatives and we spent Saturday on the golf course with our dear friends Bo and Joanna. This was the best day I've had since before and after the baby. I was the happiest I've been in a long time. Care free. Grandparents watched the boys and Grammy Grampy watched the baby. We stayed the night with Sis in law Rachel and went to the lake on Sunday. This was such a good visit, aside I got a really bad cold Saturday night! :(  I seem to be incapable of being neither, sick, or in pain, or now, emotions are strong with the postpartum thing, but I'm hanging in there, I have more help on the way, more to record, this took an hour to write so I better go! All unedited so forgive me fellow grammatical obsessors! I'll get to it someday! But for now, I just keep on living. 

May Joys

                                                                   

Just a quick note for May! This morning I got up early with the husband and while making breakfast, looked on the camera and saw little Bean was rolling around in bed. Daddy wanted to give him a quick snuggle before work so I suggested he go get Matthew and bring him to breakfast. I made oatmeal and split it with him. Daddy had to go to work then so Matthew and I sat at our table and ate oatmeal together.

 Afterwards, we went downstairs and sat in my recliner for what we call "snuggle time." I usually read a book and drink my morning coffee while Matthew watches Thomas the Train, sitting in my lap under the big warm comforter.  It is these morning snuggles that make me oh so very grateful to be blessed to be a stay at home mommy. I'm not sure I posted much about this, but a while back, I was getting restless (again) about 'just' staying at home. I felt I need more challenging brain tasks, adult conversations and interactions. I feel bad about not contributing financially to our ever-growing family. I know I am blessed, and I do not take it for granted. But some days I want more than "poop, pee, spills, messes, constantly cleaning the same thing, repeating the same book ten times, screams, fights, nap time fits, etc. etc." The bad seems a lot bigger than the good at times.

 But mornings like today, the good outweighs the bad 100% and I can relax and settle into my current role. I know I won't always be in this position. Even if I never work, my role will change as I drive kids to practices, bake a million cupcakes, help with algebra, etc. etc. I believe it's all about contentment and finding light in ALL things. With a new baby coming soon, I realize I really have no choice but to sit back and relax for now. So I should be enjoying this special time with my little ones, not wishing I was somewhere else. Truth is, if I ever do get a full time job, I'm sure that I'll have plenty to complain about then as well! So for now, bring on the snuggly mornings and the sweet kisses, the gentle hugs and the 'needing mommy.' With this much practice, I'm beginning to think I'm actually very good at it anyway. ;)

Remember how I said time races... PREGNANT AGAIN!!!!!

                                                                   

Quite embarrassing. The last post I had was in November! Can you believe it? Even more shocking is the fact that, during that post I was indeed pregnant and did not even know it at the time! Yes, pregnant, again!!! That's right. Now that I am 27 weeks I figured I better get on the ball! A pregnancy blog that doesn't even keep up with the pregnancies. Shame on me. Well, I have somewhat of an excuse. The first one is named Matthew, the second one is named Augustus, and the third one is named Goose in my belly who has kept me nice and sick and tired until about now!

So yes, number three is due July 24th. I am surprise, having yet another boy! That's right. Three little boys I will have under three years old. Actually, under two and a half. That's right. Busy me with little boys. No tutus or pink ribbons for this Mamma! We have Thomas the Train, dinosaurs and Lightening McQueen all decked out in the bedroom already. I get my girl time by doing my hair, window shopping online, and attempting to make other lady friends. Speaking of, let me start back at November...


November... Returned from my brother's beautiful wedding in Hawaii. Had a wonderful time. Apparently missed my husband and decided to make a baby that very month. Then I decided to turn 28 and have a quiet thanksgiving at home in Connecticut, with just Dave, while the babies slept!  It was pretty nice actually. On Thanksgiving day, the stick read positive and we knew, indeed, that we were definitely pregnant (five months ahead of our 'scheduled plan'!)

December... Matthew turned 2 and we had a little birthday party for him. I made a snowman cake and we had a few friends come over and spoil him with gifts. Christmas was like Thanksgiving, only the babies were awake and partook in the festivities at home. :)

January/February: We prepared for our big move out of the navy. At the end of February, we took leave early and moved out of our house. We had the truck packed up, towed the car, and drove to Nebraska to look for a house. We stayed for a week in a hotel and my mom and Dean came to help take care of the children while Dave and I purchased a house. Our house is in town and very nice. Not huge, but big enough to call home for a long time before the boys get big and force us into hopefully, an acreage. Then we drove home to South Dakota to spend a little more than a  week at home with family

March: We closed on our house and moved in! Life in a small town begins. Dave had half the month off before starting his new job at the power plant. We enjoyed our time together and set our house up. My morning sickness is pretty bad still and I'm on two zofran a day. My back has had ups and downs, as usual, but overall nothing really major. Augustus Charles turned 1 on March 13. Grammy was here to make him a teddy bear cake and we celebrated with just the family.

April: The weather here is very weird... sun, then rain, then snow, all in the same week! Grandpa came for a visit and painted the toy box black with white dinosaur silhouettes.  He played with the boys and seemed to very much enjoy them, as they did he. Today is April 29th. We still have not found a church. I live a 10 minute walk from the grocery store which is great when it is nice out. :) I have joined MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) and hope to make some decent mommy friends through them! Dave is in training for the job and doing extremely well. Too well, in fact. A year long training course of modules has taken him a little over a month and he is nearly finished! I'm very proud of him. This just means he will have to start doing 'actual work' sooner! Our lawn mower arrived today and Dave has quite a yard to mow!

MILESTONES: Augustus talks a lot! He says "what's that, cookie, juice, milk, ball, dino, car, train" and several dozen other words. Pretty much anything you tell him he can repeat back to you. Matthew has mastered counting to ten back in March and knows almost all of his alphabet letters except five. Matthew uses the potty in the daytime when he feels like it. Mostly, when he is motivated enough to get an M&M.

Wow! I've finally written. No time to edit or spell check. The smell of funkiness out of a diaper is now wafting through the air and so I must go be Mommy and do all the very things that have kept me from writing in the first place! Hopefully I'll post again before I have a third child. Until then!

Time does not fly, it races

Time does not fly-

It races,

For if it flew then things

Would be slow and drifting...

Floating upon the air in

A cloud so fluffy,

That you could bask away the time gently...

One second slowly, after one second slowly,

Remembering-

Enjoying,

But no....

Time races.

It speeds.

Time is a drag car upon

A hot black tar track,

That smokes as the wheels 

Zoom.
Igniting the engines

And firing the sparks...
Time races.

So quickly that when

You blink-

You miss it. 

And if you forget to capture it,

It's gone,

Forever-

Like the smoke lifting towards

The sky.

___________________________________________________________________________

My last post was when Augustus Charles came into this world. In one week, he will be seven months old. Time races. Oh how much I have missed to capture in word the changes that occur in seven months of baby life. I can't remember exact days and moments now when new things occured, but instead of beating myself up over this, I will simply cherish and remember what I can, and enjoy what I have. Currently, I have a sparkling bubbly gentle fun loving happy little boy who can sit up on his own, straight and tall, with a mouth full of two bottom teeth and so much joy. He is the happiest little tot one has ever seen. Maybe this is a good thingthat time raced by on my blog, instead of flew. For if the time flew by, I would have had many clouds to write about, but not the fluffy ones, rather, storm clouds...for tiny Gus has not always been this joyful. No, we went through many hard months of inconsolable screaming colicky baby who was simply distraught with no rhyme or reason. He's better now. Maybe he's not always a fan of the bedtime hours, but he's better. He loves to laugh, he loves to play with older brother (even if it consists of a lot of body slamming)! Gus loves to eat cheerios and whatever other small delicacies Matthew leaves on the floor for him to find! He likes to pull himself into a standing position on anything he can get his grubby slobber filled hands on. And boy, does he love his daddy! He grins ear to ear when he sees daddy. Daddy is truly this little man's hero!

Gus has the saddest brightest biggest eyes, like Puss in Boots from Shrek. He's ever so adorable and his brightness is so contagious. At six months he weighed in at 15 pounds, 14 ounces. Shortly after, I stopped nursing him as he practically ate all body reserves mommy had left! Plus, I planned to wean him so I could attend my brother's wedding in Hawaii, nursing and pump free. It worked out best for the both of us because my husband says he gained about two pounds when I was gone, thanks to all the formula and extra rice in the bottle! Gus has also learned to anticipate an approaching tickle attack. He will start grinning before the tickles even arrive on his skin!

Matthew is well. He has been sick off and on for the past month, with hand foot mouth disease?, an all over body rash, and temps reaching 104. However, he's on the better end of things now. He is still as picky as ever with his eating and still slurping down pediasure as if there's no tomorrow. He's about 24 pounds and fastly approaching a second birthday. He knows what presents are! He has already found Grandma's stash! He is also highly fond of candy, all sorts. We had our first trick or treating this year. Grandma Ann and I walked him door to door in his little navy poopy suit. He was such a doll and quickly caught on to taking a piece of candy from each house, mind you, a piece, not several! He was a very polite little trick or treater, strategically choosing the exact one he wanted and no more. Afterwards, we came home to hand out candy and he sure caught onto that quick also! While slow, the kids were patient while awaiting their one piece of candy to drop into their buckets! 

Neither boy has yet had a haircut and both have such fine curls, Matthew's are in the back and Gus's are in the front :) Last night Daddy drug them up and down the hall by a rope attached to the diaper box they sat in. They are both easily entertained! 

While in Hawaii for my brother's October 24th wedding, Grandma Ann and Daddy finally FINALLY (Thank you Jesus!) put Augustus on a two nap a day schedule. I couldn't for the life of me get him to nap. He is a much happier baby because of it I believe!

Gus has already figured out how to climb stairs. It is truly terrifiying and until we teach him how to go down them, we must watch him very closely. 

As I have been in a constant state of busy-ness, hence my lack of posts, it has been tough to do much of anything besides care for boys, husband, and house. But overall, this is fulfilling, as this is what I have always wanted. Dave interviews Wednesday for a position in Nebraska, as we are out of the navy come February 28, 2013. We are highly excited about this prospect-the people, job, town, area, closeness to home-it's all perfect, which may be too perfect as we are scared he 1. won't get the job or 2. won't get the right pay. So only time will tell and now we are praying fervently that God will provide. As we know, He will, and He knows what is best for our little family, but as of right now, this is a huge door that is cracked and we hope will open completely. 

It is time to feed my slug bug. :) Until next time!

Baby Augustus Charles Rickenbach

was born on March 13th at 2:29 AM weighing in at six pounds and five ounces. He is simply perfect! He came out with a full head of dark hair. Today, he is three weeks and one day old, and yes, I am just now getting around to blogging! He sleeps basically all day and likes to wake up and look around from 9 to 11, without fail! Once he goes back to sleep , he stays asleep until 3 or 4.Good baby!

I have been in so much pain the last week I have mostly been confined to my recliner. I have not been able to even nurse Augustus side-lying because of some sort of pain in my back on the right side. I have done various tests and am on many pain meds. I have an MRI on Thursday and will hopefully recieve back injections after that. I am wearing tired of being so useless and in pain. I hope to start functioning again soon! In the meantime, I am looking into maid services, kind neighbors and church has been delivering meals, and Dave, God bless his heart, has been attempting to take on my duties, full time work, and has dealt with Matthew especially, more than he ever has before combined.

Surprise, Augustus needs to eat~ hopefully more to come soon!