Happy Birthday Hannah!

Today is Hannah's third birthday. I could write a novel about all that has happened in her short little life so far, but I'll try to keep it short(er).

We weren't sure we were going to have a third child. I kept telling Jeremiah I thought someone was missing from our family, he kept telling me we were in over our head with just two. About the time I was starting to think he was right I found out I was pregnant. After the initial shock we decided she was meant to be, and a gift from God.

My third and final pregnancy was not what I thought it would be. It was exciting and I loved being pregnant one last time, but there was this underlying layer of fear for almost the whole 37 weeks. We weren't sure how severe her heart defect was, whether she would have down syndrome or some other syndrome. She was barely growing by the end and the last few days leading up to my induction date I was terrified she would die in utero. When I was admitted to the hospital for my induction the nurse asked if there had been any stressful events during the pregnancy, Jeremiah and I looked at each other and both said, "the pregnancy!"

5 days old, all the cool babies get jaundiced!

At 2:04 pm Hannah was born, tiny and screaming and all long arms and legs and big eyes. Oh she was so cute! She was like a tiny little doll, 4 pounds and 3 oz and only 17 inches long. She was the perfect size for Abby to cuddle, and she did all the time.

Abby and Eli came to the hospital and got to see Hannah for the first time in a month. 

Some of my favorite people in the world work in the PICU at RMHC, they painted Hannah's nails!

We worked hard to fatten her up and by the time she had open heart surgery at 3 1/2 months old she was almost 7 pounds. I underestimated how long she would be in the PICU after her surgery. I don't think I was prepared for all of it, I kept thinking, "it was just a VSD, it's not that big of a deal, right?" Oh well. At the time it almost completely consumed Jeremiah and I. I was practically living at the hospital for 34 days. I missed our normal life. I missed my older kids. Abby turned six while we were in the PICU, the rest of my family went to DisneyWorld and we missed it all. It's just part of Hannah's story.

She came home, struggled to gain weight, ended up getting a nasal feeding tube for two months. I would swaddle her up tight and drop it down while she screamed, I wasn't her mom, I was her nurse. Then I would scoop her up and cuddle her tight, once again her mother.

For someone who struggled with eating for a long time, she sure caught onto cake really easily.

She has needed in home physical therapy, speech therapy and occupational therapy. Next month she gets to start preschool for her therapies. She will be delighted, she kept trying to sneak into Eli's classroom last year.

Hannah is tiny, and fearless. She is like having twins in one body. She is funny, and smart and determined to do everything her older brother and sister do. She still lags in her speech and struggles with staying focused because she is a sensory seeker. She carries chickens around the backyard, loves to take showers, wants to wear panties, and just started to say "h's" the other day. So now she says, "Hhhannah." It's adorable.

She isn't the third child I thought we were missing, she is so, so much more, so much better than we ever could have dreamed.

Happy Third Birthday Hannah Joy!  We love you!

I Heart My Mom

Today is my mother's birthday. I will not mention the number, but I don't really think she cares. I am her only daughter, only child and I will share my love for her in the form of a blog post. (Ah, modern times.)

My mom was born in Sioux City, IA the fourth of seven children and the first girl. She grew up on a farm, sharing beds with her sisters. They were expected to clean their plates at dinner and spent their summers playing outside, all day. My grandparent's first son died before any of the other kids were born, and they lost their youngest son, Lee, when he was 19. My mom still carries his Bible, worn and well used, with handwritten notes in the margins from both of them. When she moved to Omaha and started working at a bank she was introduced to my dad, at the urging of my Aunt Kate, he asked her out on a date. To this day Kate insists that she is the reason I exist, but that's a different story. My parents moved to Colorado shortly after they were married and have been here ever since.

Of course, I didn't witness any of that, I heard it all from various people over the years. My part of the story comes in around her 33rd year when I was born. My mom stayed home with me and did a lot of babysitting to supplement the income. I remember a lot of Sesame Street, grilled cheese and carrot sticks, the vinyl back seat of the Oldsmobile station wagon on the way to church and Bible Study. I remember Pudding Pops on the backyard swing set, bubble baths, and lots and lots of bedtime stories. And my mom was present for, or more often the reason for, all of it.

The woman has a self-sacrificial, never give up, work-hard-until-the-job-is-done personality. Just give her a cup of coffee in the morning and her mid-afternoon granola bar and she can do anything. I came home to a clean house after all three of my babies were born because of my mom. She has cooked meals, done laundry, cleaned bathrooms, washed children, fed backyard chickens, sewed dresses, planted flowers, emptied trash, dressed Barbies and children, brought me saltines when I'm sick, and a myriad of other odd chores. She drops my kids off at school and picks them up, she is pretty much interchangeable with me at school, all the other moms know her as well as they know me. The woman can do it all. She watches our three kids when Jeremiah and I go to work, she is SO SO much better than the best Nanny.

I'm sure my mom feels blessed to have had a daughter, I know she prayed for a child. But the truth is, I am fortunate to be her daughter. We are all blessed to have her in our lives. I am so thankful for all her help, support, love and encouragement. Happy Birthday Mom!