Birth Day and Personalities

It's very late at night, but sometimes the call to write won't wait.

As of this moment, the countdown to Baby is at 10 days.  A week and a half and our Sweet Sarah will make her way into the world.

Of course, she's laying sideways, it's fricken hot outside causing me to sweat profusely, I can't wear shoes because my feet are too swollen, and my temper-fuse has been shortened by another six inches.

But other than that, I'm so excited to see this baby.  I can't help but think of Emma, Abby, Matthew, and Millie as they all came into the world.  I've decided that the day the child is born indicates what the child is going to be like.

Let me give you a few (four) examples....

Emma

Emma was born six days late.  I was anxious for her to come, but a little relieved she didn't show up in the middle of the blizzard that hit us four days after her due date.  I was so worried about the road conditions, so I begged Josh to stay home with me the day after the blizzard.  We lived in the mountains, around 9000 feet in elevation on back roads behind Pikes Peak, so you can understand why I was a bit paranoid about the whole road-conditions-thing.  However, April 12th came and we lazily laid in bed talking about our OB appointment scheduled for that afternoon.  We were going to need to decide what day we wanted to schedule an induction since I was so late.  We both fell back asleep... until my water broke.  Josh and I went outside to get in the car when we realized that it was still buried from the blizzard two days ago.  I laughed as I held my knees together, trying to keep my broken water from making a huge mess so I could help dig the car out of the snow.  Luckily, a neighbor heard of our plight, took pity, and plowed the driveway for us.  Nine hours later, Emma graced us with her presence.

Emma and me

How does this equate to Emma today?  The girl has no problem being late.  To anything.  The day we left for Vegas to see Phantom of the Opera, she slept until it was nearly time for us to be out the door.  She loves the snow and the mountains.  It seems to take her forever to get things done, but she does them and she does them well.

Abby, however, was a different story.

Abby

On her due date (at 3am) my water broke.  Josh was at work so I called him to come home and take me to the hospital.  We lived in the same mountainous area, but a little further from the hospital.  I was a little worried when Josh came home and took a shower before driving me down the mountain.  We got to the Springs and I was already dilated to a 5.  Things progressed fairly quickly over the next few hours until 10am when they just stopped.  My OB was called to assist in a c-section and since I wasn't going anywhere he went to help.  Suddenly, Abby was coming.  She was coming and there was no stopping her.  We called for the nurse who called for the doc, but he was still in the OR.  Instead, she grabbed some kid from the hallway and put gloves on him.  I swear he looked like a kid, maybe he was an intern.  Or maybe a kid.  I don't know.  He didn't even get a chance to put his fingers in the glove properly before he began trying to keep Abby from falling out and onto the floor.  Everyone kept yelling for me to not push.  Hello?  Have you ever had a baby insist on being born before?  There was no stopping her!  Their pleas of, "Don't push, don't push!" were answered with my response of, "I can't help it, I can't help it!"  Luckily, my doctor did make it just in time to catch her.

Abby and me

And that was Abby.

And it still is Abby.  She's up on time every morning.  I don't think she knows how to sleep in.  She can be ready for anything on a moment's notice.  But more apparent and obvious is Abby's, how should I say it?, insistence on doing things the way she believes they should be done.  Obstinate, some might say.  Not me, of course, but other people might.

Matt was yet again a different story.

Matt

I was induced a week earlier to ensure he'd be born in Denver where his cardiologist could have immediate access to him after birth.  But the cord was wrapped around his body and every contraction strangled him.  I was rushed into an emergency c-section.  Unfortunately, the cord was so tight the doctor couldn't cut it, so he stuffed Matt back inside, turned him around to loosen the cord, and pulled him out a second time.  Matt was flat-lined and the OB handed him off to the NICU team saying, "Jump start this baby."  It took a while but Matt recovered and went on to spend 16 days in the NICU, undergoing two heart procedures to begin addressing his heart problems.

Matt and me (this was the closest I could be to him the first time I really got to see him)

Today, Matt has undergone more stress and fearful conditions than anyone else in our family, but he takes them in stride.  He hangs in there.  He does what needs to be done, but happily accepts the help of others around him.  He's sweet and laid back, regardless of the conditions around him which has its good and bad points.

Millie

Millie was a planned c-section.  I waddled down the hallway and hopped up on the bed in the OR.  Within a few minutes of medications all in place and Josh entering the OR, Millie was born and all was well.  No drama.  No blizzards, no boy-doctors from the hallway, no blood transfusions for me (Matt's birth was harrowing for him AND me).  Just a baby being born three days before Christmas on a day in Montana where the high temperature for the day was -5*.

Millie and me

Like her brother, Millie's a bit laid back.  She has no real concerns, even though she is only 3.  She will happily sit still and snuggle with me, dance around and sing, or color and draw pictures for hours.  Singing calms the soul, and Millie loves to sing.

This all makes me wonder: how will Birth Day go for Sarah?  Will we be able to gauge this little girl's personality on the hour(s) involved in her birth?  Hmm... I guess we'll see in ten days.

Spotlight: Emma

There are 3 weeks left to get myself ready for our big day.  There's still so much to do, but I wanted to take a little time to focus on our other babies before the next one arrives.

The perfect excuse to use to begin this spotlight is the fact that Emma's birthday was last week.  Yep.  I have an 11-year-old.  Last year was a big deal because she was turning double digits, but this year struck me a bit differently: Next year my daughter will be a Young Woman complete with mutual nights, Personal Progress, and Girls' Camp.  Holy cow.

The birthday girl

I'm not really sure why I'm so surprised by this fact.  Emma is quickly becoming a teenager.

Emma and Josh (with Emma's birthday flowers) at lunch on her birthday.

I used to have this dream when I was little.  We were at a family gathering.  I guess I viewed one of my aunts as talking a lot and quickly because I remember being a little kid and looking up at the adults all standing around gabbing and this particular aunt quickly spurting, "Blahlalalalalalalalala ha ha ha ha ha!"

I now have this dream about my daughter.

I love Emma so much and I don't mean to make fun of her, but she has always been quite a talker herself.   And now those fast-paced tirades include subjects like math class, recess with her friends, band, student council, and of course boys.  There are times I have to pause her so I can leave the room long enough to use the bathroom.

Student of the Month

I do love that Emma is so busy.  And I love that she keeps me informed of her daily happenings.  She makes me laugh and shake my head.  Mostly because there are times when I relate to her so much more than she can understand.

She is my daughter, that's for sure!

It's a Funny Thing...

I have to admit that talking about my apprehensions about this pregnancy has really helped me begin to ready myself for the reality of our Little Miss Sarah.  This is a good thing.  The diapers are stocking up.  The baby clothes have been gathered (they still need washing and folding, but they exist in our home).  And Sarah is being referred to by name.

Sarah's last ultrasound, three weeks ago. 

Of course, there are some other factors that have helped bring this reality into play.  One was a trip to Babies R Us.  It's been a while since we've leisurely strolled through that store, looking at all the cute little baby stuff.  And there are so many cute things to wish for.  We did find a way cute bumper and crib sheet set that I'm excited to put into place.  And it was on clearance.... bonus!

These are the wall decals we got to match our cute little bumper.

Another smack-you-in-the-face-obvious factor is the hormone level coupled with my Swiss cheese pregnancy brain.  Matt says my temper tantrums are funny. I asked him why.  He said, "Because when you get mad you say, 'Go to your room and go... do... get ready for bed!'"

I kind of liked Matt's perspective of all of this chaos in our lives right now.  There are some funny and ridiculous things happening around us.  Or in my case, to us.

I was at the self-checkout line at the grocery store the other day.  I pulled up to the scanner and scanned my customer card.  The automated checker graciously greeted me and then told me to remove my items from the scanner.  I was confused because all my items were still in my cart.  It was at that moment that I realized, it wasn't my groceries on the scanner, it was my ever-expanding baby belly!

I know I look very large.  Probably because I am very large.  Easter Sunday I sang with the ward choir.  I walked up behind Bishopric but knew I had no chance of fitting in the seats behind the piano and organ.  So I got the space at the end of the line of altos.  I felt very exposed.  And to make it worse, I had to stand sort of sideways to see the director so my girth's profile was evident to the entire ward.  I know I looked ridiculously pregnant.  How do I know?  Because I was showered with a combination of sympathetic looks and questions of, "You're sure it's not twins?"

29 days.....

The Two Steins

Today the kids were sitting at the table doing their homework when Emma mentioned Einstein.  Abby asked why he was such a big deal.  I said he was a mathematical genius.

Matt looked a little confused.  "I thought he didn't have a brain."

Before I could question him, Abby told him, "That's Frankenstein, not Einstein."

Post-Miscarriage Pregnancy Baggage

It has been brought to my attention that there are 55 days until Baby Day.  This was thanks to the huge bulge causing me to not fit my clothes.  And the heartburn that's piercing my chest.  Oh, and those pesky appointments the OB doctor continues to insist that I attend.

But I really am having a hard time grasping the reality of the situation.  I blame the miscarriages.

There's still a stigma of believing this baby is coming.  It's like a mental block.  Can I really let myself believe that I'll get to hold a little beautiful baby in just 55 days?  A part of me says, "Yes!"  But there's still a part of me that is afraid the answer might be No.

That's the part that has been sneaking into my brain a bit too much.  Things are obviously different this time.

Usually by this point in the pregnancy I...

• have a large stock of diapers 
• have my to-do list of cleaning nearly finished
• have baby clothes washed and put away, ready for baby
• prepare for whatever holidays will be happening directly after the baby is born
• call the baby by the name we plan to give him/her

I'm trying.  I'm really trying to have the faith that this is happening.  My small stockpile of 4 bags of diapers is slowly growing.  My cleaning to-do list is still just mentally composed, but I hope it will be on paper soon and then actually carried out.  I received a couple boxes of climate-appropriate clothing from one of Josh's coworkers and this has saved me.  I totally forgot that the few little baby clothes I have in boxes in the garage were for a baby born in Montana in December and not a baby born in Arizona in May.  I know I need to have Abby's birthday and even Matt's birthday and baptism somewhat prepared for since they will be happening pretty quickly after the baby comes.

Which brings me to my last point of hesitation.  The baby's name.  We've told the kids what we plan to name our baby.  They all refer to her by the name.  In fact, Millie not only calls the baby by her name but readily identifies things for the baby and makes the connection between the two.  So taking a cue from my 3-year-old, I have made more of an effort to call our baby by the name we plan to give her, Sarah.  Sarah Rebekah Louise.

I've learned that I'm not the only post-miscarriage pregnant woman who has been slow to accept reality.  This makes me feel better.  Maybe I'm not losing faith.  Maybe I'm just normal.  In the meantime I plan to remind myself to do the things I know I'll want done.  And it may not be until I hold that precious baby girl (Sarah) in my arms that this all finally hits me.  

55 days.

A Bit of Absurdity

We recently purchased my dad's pickup truck and camper from him.  The license plate cover on the camper reads,

American by birth 

Southern by the Grace of God

I love my Southern roots.  I have some wonderful memories of visiting our relatives in Mississippi when I was younger.  There were warm nights of sitting on the porch and eating watermelons directly out of the garden.  I drove a tractor (nearly killed me and my great-uncle, but I drove it).  My great-aunt gave me a coffee tin of flower seeds from her enormous wild flower garden.  I even got to see the small little shack my grandfather and his six siblings were all born and raised in before it was torn down a few years later.  

The other day I found the show BBQ Pitmasters on Netflix.  The Southern food, Southern accents, and Southern eccentricities has reminded me of my roots.  In fact, it's really hard not to listen to the accents and not let it slip into my own speech.  (The same thing happens when I watch movies with Southern characters.  Country Strong about did me in.)

So it may not be a surprise when today my mind wandered where it did.  It's laundry day.  You know what that means, clothes that rarely make a public appearance suddenly emerge into view.  

Today's embarrassing moment:

Let's all remember that I have two months left.

It was as I was wearing this shirt that I couldn't help but think of my redneck roots and combine that with my affinity for SNL.

Pardon the quality of this video.  Somehow, it's the only clip of this skit online, which is a real shame because it is pretty dang funny.  

And there you have it.  The absurdity of my day.

Top Ten List

If I were creative, I would make a parody of the song, Things That Make You Go Hmmm.  (Yes, I'm over 30 and I still love C+C Music Factory.)

My version would eliminate the beautiful skinny woman and replace her with a haggard, pregnant woman in pajamas.  It would be lovingly called, Things That Make You Go Ugh.


And here's why:

Top Ten Things That Make Pregnant Women in Their Third Trimester Go Ugh

10.  Heartburn

9.  Lower back pain

8.  Bathroom trips in the middle of the night

7.  Getting out of bed

6.  Getting off the couch

5.  Dropping things on the ground

4.  Outgrowing maternity clothes

3.  Braxton Hicks

2.  20 degree body heat difference

And the number 1 thing that makes pregnant women in their third trimester to go Ugh...

1.  The scale in the OB's office

Really, I've been trying not to complain.  After all, it took us over a year to conceive this baby.  But crossing into the third trimester is like a toddler on her second birthday.  One day everything is fine and the next day the Terrible Twos come out in full force.

Only 59 days till C-day.

Abby's Memory

Tonight as I was tucking Abby into bed, she made a comment that warmed my heart.

She said, "I can't wait to see Millie hold the new baby like we did when she was born."

It was the sweetest thing.

When I found out I was pregnant with Abby, Emma was only six months old and I was starting my second trimester with Ab.  I figured I'd be done having kids by the time I was 30.  But Heavenly Father had other plans for us.  Funny how that happens.

As much as I'd like to have a younger body that is pregnant right now, I am happy to have kids a bit older that can remember sweet moments like this.

And I'm glad they can remind me of these moments as well.