So today was my day of appointments. Really I only had two, I could have crammed more in there if I had tried, but oh well. I do need a haircut and some new glasses, maybe next week.
I started at the OBs. I am happy to say that I will never have to drink orange glucose drink again. Now, I just hope my glucose tolerance test (gtt) is normal or I will actually have to drink that nasty stuff again. I should have brought Abby's back up glucometer and checked my blood sugar at the appt, not that we do that sort of thing ;-). Baby GiGi was happy and kicked at the Dr. when she listened to her heart rate. Also, she says I'm measuring perfectly and the scale was somewhat nicer to me than I thought it would be. Pretty good OB appt. I did learn that it's not a good idea to make the appt at 11 because then I get out of there around lunch time and driving down Colfax and then Colorado Blvd. at lunch time is not fun.
Quick stop at Noodles and Company for some Macaroni and Cheese with extra cheese sauce that I then ate while sitting on the couch and watching GROWN UP TV. Ah, the joys of my kids spending the day with their Grandparents. Thanks Mom.
Next appt was the Pediatric Cardiologist. I wasn't nervous until I started to over think the appt, then I had to calm myself down with a little prayer in the car on the way there. Turns out the little talk I gave her in the shower this morning helped set my daughter in-utero straight. She was in a better (not perfect) position and the tech was able to get clearer pictures this time. The Cardiologist is saying she has a medium ventricular septal defect (VSD) and that's about it. I'm relieved. I never thought I'd be so thrilled to hear that my daughter has a hole in between the two ventricles of her heart, but given the severity of the other heart defects out there this one is almost nothing. The VSD may close on it's own either before or after delivery, or it may need surgery later on down the road, but we can take her home with us, no stop over in the NICU first (at least not for her heart). Sorry NICU RN friends, you can come out and see her in my hospital room!
It seems like so long ago that Jeremiah and I rode home feeling numb and frightened from our 20 week ultrasound. I'm glad that it is such a distant feeling. As much as I try to be an optimistic person, I find that when something scary like that comes up I turn into a pessimistic, hypochondriac, worry wart of a person. I don't want to, and I always end up scolding myself later on for letting things get out of control. God is always in control. ALWAYS. He knows what my daughter's heart looks like, He knows her name, whether there is hair on her little head and how many there are. He holds her in His hand, He holds all of us in His hand. So why do I worry? Why is my first reaction always to worry? Instead I should turn to God immediately and say, "I don't know your plan for this, but I trust in you." Period. But I'm still not perfect, still a sinner, and still working on that. Maybe someday I will be there, but I find as a mother that it's especially hard to trust immediately in God when something involves my kids. I always come around to trusting that God's plan is perfect, but I take a scenic little route first, and gas prices are to high to be wasting my fuel on the long way home.
So there you have it. A little update on Baby GiGi's tiny little heart. It isn't perfect, but it's not to bad either, and I pray someday God will live in there, hole in the wall or not.
The kids are spending the night at my parents, so I still have the house to myself. I may just have some ice cream for dinner, so there!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Easter
I've been trying to blog for about a week but haven't had much time to sit down and type. And now I have Easter pictures so I'm going to tell you about our Easter celebration.
We are in that stage of our lives where family pictures at holidays are hard to get. Would you believe that this was the best one out of two dozen? It doesn't help that I'm usually talking, or messing with the kids hair or outfits or trying to get them to stop fighting/fooling around.
We had Easter breakfast at my parent's house before church. I would like to say I'm still full from all the food I ate on Sunday, but sadly I'm not. In fact I woke up in the middle of the night on Sunday night/Monday morning and was hungry. The kids looked for eggs at my parents house and then we went to church, then off to Jeremiah's Dad and Step-Mom's for lunch. You want to talk about more good food. Oh, and the jello eggs. Jello eggs are a tradition in Jeremiah's family, his Mom used to make them every year and now his Dad still does. They are filling. I think I ate 3, Jeremiah ate 7. That's a lot of jello.
Unfortunately I forgot my camera for like the whole day so I had to borrow some of my Dad's pictures. The kids looked for eggs at Jer's Dad's house too, I think they went for about 5 rounds of re-hiding. I'm thrilled with this, last year Abby kept wanting me to hide eggs at our house over and over so she could find them, this year I think it's all out of her system.
Not excited about Easter at all is she?
Eli got new cars in his Easter basket. This is the only time he sat still for a picture, a picture with his cars, go figure.
Church was wonderful. I love Easter music. And this year it was super awesome, I like congregational singing when the whole auditorium rings. Abby learned about Easter in Sunday School, Awana, and preschool, so she is starting to get the Easter message. We tried to make Resurrection Cookies, but apparently I don't have the high-altitude directions so they totally flopped, but the message was still there. And the kids played with the Resurrection eggs, Abby's favorite is the donkey, but she also likes the cup from the "Last Dinner." We had a great Easter, how was yours?
Oh, by the way, here I am at 24 weeks. We did a black and white Easter because black is slimming!
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Baby GiGi
Well folks I took a little break from blogging, the weather has been nice so we've played outside some and then Eli shared his cold with me so I've been down for the count for a few days. But I'm back! Here's what's been happening:
Last Monday Jeremiah and I had my 20 week ultrasound and found out it's a girl! The appointment started out alright, the baby, who we've nicknamed GiGi (for baby Girl Gregg) was not in the best of positions. Apparently she doesn't like being spied on in her comfy little uterine home and so the pictures they were not as clear as I remember from my other two pregnancies. The tech started at her feet and went about doing the measurements and taking picture after picture, "I'm having a hard time getting clear pictures of her heart, I'll come back to that," she said. At one point I was laying on my side trying to get the baby to move into a better spot so they could get clear pics of her heart. This is when I started to think, "hmm, somethings up." Intuitive aren't I?
To make a long story short (to late) the perinatologist was concerned because with the pictures they could get it looked like she has a ventricular septal defect (VSD). This is a hole in between the walls of the right and left ventricle. Also she couldn't get very good pictures of other parts of the heart and she referred us to a pediatric cardiologist. The appointment after that part is kind of blurry. She started talking about what defects could possibly be related to the VSD and the pics she could get and she rambled off a bunch of stuff you would think I would remember but I don't. Then she launched into isolated cardiac defect vs. part of a larger syndrome. Oh, thanks for that, because I'm not having enough trouble sleeping at night.
So we left the office a little blindsided. I limped back to the van with Jeremiah (I had banged up my right foot pretty good the night before) and sat in silence until we made it out of the parking garage, then I pulled the cardiologists card from the pocket of my purse and burst into tears. Jeremiah told me to call and make the appt and I told him I just needed to cry first.
The problem with all this is that I'm a nurse. And I have a vivid imagination and my brain likes to wander off on it's own. So I'm picturing all the things that could go wrong. My mind jumps ahead to August and I'm picturing my little girl in an isolette with a nasal canula and cardiac leads attached to her little body. Don't get me wrong, out new NICU at work is nice, and the nurses are awesome, I just don't want my kid to be one of their clients.
I called my OB on Thursday and we talked for a long time on the phone. I told her I didn't want to be a needy anxious patient, but I needed someone to talk me thru my thoughts. I love my OB, she spent forever on the phone with me and I felt so much better after talking with her. We saw the cardiologist today, my daughter is still being camera shy. They were able to get slightly better pictures, but we're going back in a month to try again for an even better view. I don't feel much different after our appt today, but I don't feel worse. We didn't get bad news, but we really didn't get good news either, we kind of got no news. Which in this case, I think no news is good news.
So now we wait. And we try to relax with this heart defect thing in the back of our minds. And I really don't feel to bad. It's weird, but I'm not to worried. In a matter of a weeks time I went from fearing that our daughter might have some syndrome and spend weeks in the NICU to something less scary. She's most likely fine, she might have some issues, but hopefully she's won't.
Limbo is an awesome place to hang out, you should all join us some time.
Really though, Jeremiah and I are calm. We're going to just wait. Wait on God and try to be at peace with that. That's a huge thing to undertake. I know there are lots of people praying for us, so that's probably where the sense of peace is coming from.
I'll post updates here and there. Check back from time to time, it may be worth your while!
Also, Abby is THRILLED to be having a little sister. Absolutely thrilled. Eli is bummed, he was hoping it was a dump truck.
Last Monday Jeremiah and I had my 20 week ultrasound and found out it's a girl! The appointment started out alright, the baby, who we've nicknamed GiGi (for baby Girl Gregg) was not in the best of positions. Apparently she doesn't like being spied on in her comfy little uterine home and so the pictures they were not as clear as I remember from my other two pregnancies. The tech started at her feet and went about doing the measurements and taking picture after picture, "I'm having a hard time getting clear pictures of her heart, I'll come back to that," she said. At one point I was laying on my side trying to get the baby to move into a better spot so they could get clear pics of her heart. This is when I started to think, "hmm, somethings up." Intuitive aren't I?
To make a long story short (to late) the perinatologist was concerned because with the pictures they could get it looked like she has a ventricular septal defect (VSD). This is a hole in between the walls of the right and left ventricle. Also she couldn't get very good pictures of other parts of the heart and she referred us to a pediatric cardiologist. The appointment after that part is kind of blurry. She started talking about what defects could possibly be related to the VSD and the pics she could get and she rambled off a bunch of stuff you would think I would remember but I don't. Then she launched into isolated cardiac defect vs. part of a larger syndrome. Oh, thanks for that, because I'm not having enough trouble sleeping at night.
So we left the office a little blindsided. I limped back to the van with Jeremiah (I had banged up my right foot pretty good the night before) and sat in silence until we made it out of the parking garage, then I pulled the cardiologists card from the pocket of my purse and burst into tears. Jeremiah told me to call and make the appt and I told him I just needed to cry first.
The problem with all this is that I'm a nurse. And I have a vivid imagination and my brain likes to wander off on it's own. So I'm picturing all the things that could go wrong. My mind jumps ahead to August and I'm picturing my little girl in an isolette with a nasal canula and cardiac leads attached to her little body. Don't get me wrong, out new NICU at work is nice, and the nurses are awesome, I just don't want my kid to be one of their clients.
I called my OB on Thursday and we talked for a long time on the phone. I told her I didn't want to be a needy anxious patient, but I needed someone to talk me thru my thoughts. I love my OB, she spent forever on the phone with me and I felt so much better after talking with her. We saw the cardiologist today, my daughter is still being camera shy. They were able to get slightly better pictures, but we're going back in a month to try again for an even better view. I don't feel much different after our appt today, but I don't feel worse. We didn't get bad news, but we really didn't get good news either, we kind of got no news. Which in this case, I think no news is good news.
So now we wait. And we try to relax with this heart defect thing in the back of our minds. And I really don't feel to bad. It's weird, but I'm not to worried. In a matter of a weeks time I went from fearing that our daughter might have some syndrome and spend weeks in the NICU to something less scary. She's most likely fine, she might have some issues, but hopefully she's won't.
Limbo is an awesome place to hang out, you should all join us some time.
Really though, Jeremiah and I are calm. We're going to just wait. Wait on God and try to be at peace with that. That's a huge thing to undertake. I know there are lots of people praying for us, so that's probably where the sense of peace is coming from.
I'll post updates here and there. Check back from time to time, it may be worth your while!
Also, Abby is THRILLED to be having a little sister. Absolutely thrilled. Eli is bummed, he was hoping it was a dump truck.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Little test strips everywhere
So I'm cleaning out my purse the other day and among all the gum wrappers and scraps of paper in the bottom are 5 used test strips. I emptied the laundry hamper: test stip; I cleaned out the van: test strips; my pocket: test strip, kitchen floor: test strip; Abby's backpack: test strip; bottom of the trash can in the playroom: 4 used test strips! They're everywhere! And they drive me insane!
I guess when you use 6 or 7 strips a day some of them are not going to find their way into a trash can, and they can really pile up after a few days, but, come on, they're everywhere!
So this blog will be all about me ranting about diabetes.
I hate diabetes. It's stupid. Period.
Abby was diagnosed when she was 21 months old. She is now 5. There is no cure for diabetes (yet). When she was 3 years and 7 months she had been diabetic longer than she hadn't been. When she is 52 she will have lived with diabetes for 50 years. There are 1.5 grams of carbs in an ounce of milk and a 1/2 cup of blueberries is 10 grams of carbs. These are the things that run thru my head in the middle of the night and during the day. I count goldfish crackers, I weigh fruit, I measure cereal. Day in day out, I have the routines that we must stick to. I add up the carbs, I measure out the insulin, I poke my little girl in the butt. This is our life, it's mostly routine and mostly it doesn't bother me.
Most of the time.
Every so often I get into a funk. It happens around Christmas every year. I send a Christmas card to the nurse who discovered Abby's diabetes. That gets me thinking about the day she was diagnosed. What a whirlwind. Most of it is a blur, but some snippets of that day are crystal clear in my brain. I remember trying to remain calm in the car as we drove back to the Barbara Davis Center and praying that it wasn't diabetes, then ransacking my brain for what else could cause her blood sugar to be so high and praying it was diabetes instead of some form of incurable cancer or something. There are times when I just get tired of the whole diabetes thing. Checking blood sugar, keeping a log, counting carbs, drawing up insulin, it gets a little old after awhile.
But then, sometime during my self pity cycle I start to think about how lucky we are. How blessed I am to have a daughter with diabetes. Before 1921 there was no injectable insulin and my daughter would have wasted away and died before our eyes. She has one of the most well know and most researched diseases in the world. There are celebrities with diabetes and they host charity balls and fundraisers. Her teachers and school will probably have had kids like her before. It's not incurable cancer, she isn't lying in a hospital bed somewhere or confined to a wheelchair. She runs and plays and acts just like every other kid. Yesterday she went to a birthday party and ate cake with all the other kids.
Sometimes she asks me why she has diabetes. My answer is always, "because that is what God has planned for your life." It doesn't go much past that answer right now. Someday it will. As Abby gets older and starts to take more control of her disease and she has to come to terms with it she will discover why she has diabetes. When the time is right, God will reveal it to her. I would kind of like it to be cured before she has to contemplate it to much, but I'm not holding my breath.
This summer she gets an insulin pump. At least that is what we're praying for. That should make life somewhat easier. And maybe change my whole outlook on stuff. Not to mention give Abby the most expensive accessory she may ever have. Whatever happens in our future I know that God has blessed us with our beautiful little girl and He knows every second of her life, good and bad. He is in control and that makes me feel a whole lot better.
Now excuse me, I see a test strip on the desk I have to throw away.
I guess when you use 6 or 7 strips a day some of them are not going to find their way into a trash can, and they can really pile up after a few days, but, come on, they're everywhere!
So this blog will be all about me ranting about diabetes.
I hate diabetes. It's stupid. Period.
Abby was diagnosed when she was 21 months old. She is now 5. There is no cure for diabetes (yet). When she was 3 years and 7 months she had been diabetic longer than she hadn't been. When she is 52 she will have lived with diabetes for 50 years. There are 1.5 grams of carbs in an ounce of milk and a 1/2 cup of blueberries is 10 grams of carbs. These are the things that run thru my head in the middle of the night and during the day. I count goldfish crackers, I weigh fruit, I measure cereal. Day in day out, I have the routines that we must stick to. I add up the carbs, I measure out the insulin, I poke my little girl in the butt. This is our life, it's mostly routine and mostly it doesn't bother me.
Most of the time.
Every so often I get into a funk. It happens around Christmas every year. I send a Christmas card to the nurse who discovered Abby's diabetes. That gets me thinking about the day she was diagnosed. What a whirlwind. Most of it is a blur, but some snippets of that day are crystal clear in my brain. I remember trying to remain calm in the car as we drove back to the Barbara Davis Center and praying that it wasn't diabetes, then ransacking my brain for what else could cause her blood sugar to be so high and praying it was diabetes instead of some form of incurable cancer or something. There are times when I just get tired of the whole diabetes thing. Checking blood sugar, keeping a log, counting carbs, drawing up insulin, it gets a little old after awhile.
But then, sometime during my self pity cycle I start to think about how lucky we are. How blessed I am to have a daughter with diabetes. Before 1921 there was no injectable insulin and my daughter would have wasted away and died before our eyes. She has one of the most well know and most researched diseases in the world. There are celebrities with diabetes and they host charity balls and fundraisers. Her teachers and school will probably have had kids like her before. It's not incurable cancer, she isn't lying in a hospital bed somewhere or confined to a wheelchair. She runs and plays and acts just like every other kid. Yesterday she went to a birthday party and ate cake with all the other kids.
Sometimes she asks me why she has diabetes. My answer is always, "because that is what God has planned for your life." It doesn't go much past that answer right now. Someday it will. As Abby gets older and starts to take more control of her disease and she has to come to terms with it she will discover why she has diabetes. When the time is right, God will reveal it to her. I would kind of like it to be cured before she has to contemplate it to much, but I'm not holding my breath.
This summer she gets an insulin pump. At least that is what we're praying for. That should make life somewhat easier. And maybe change my whole outlook on stuff. Not to mention give Abby the most expensive accessory she may ever have. Whatever happens in our future I know that God has blessed us with our beautiful little girl and He knows every second of her life, good and bad. He is in control and that makes me feel a whole lot better.
Now excuse me, I see a test strip on the desk I have to throw away.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Carrots and Tomatoes and Zucchinis, Oh My!
As I type this my husband is outside cleaning out the yard shed. It is a lovely February afternoon and my husband and children are spending it in our backyard. It's wonderful! This is what Colorado is like. We get teased with these balmy days, you start to get excited that spring is coming, that there may actually be an end to the cold, dreary winter blahs and then you get hit, wham! with 8 inches of cold, heavy, wet spring snow on March 28th! You get used to it. We do have an amazing amount of sunshine though, so I'm not going to complain. (At least not today, since it's currently 48 degrees out, sunny and nice.)
My husband has started to plan our garden for this year. He talked about it the entire time we were eating lunch, like a kid talking about a trip to Disneyland or Christmas. "And over there we're going to have squash and cucumbers and then in those boxes we'll have beans and we'll string them up this year..." You should see the way his face lights up when he starts to talk fertilizer and manure!
I'm not going to lie, I've been thinking about the garden a lot lately too. But when I think about the garden and this summer I think in different terms than my husband. I love having a garden. There is nothing cuter than a little girl walking around with a fresh green bean or a carrot from the garden. Abby likes to eat carrots with the greens still attached, like Bugs Bunny. "I'll help you pull weeds Mommy. Is this a weed? Can I have a carrot? I'm tired, can I go play now?" Last year I gave serious thought to buying a Prairie girl style bonnet for Abby. I bought the kids buckets so they could help us collect green beans. Eli struggled to carry a zucchini 1/4 of his body weight down the hill to the house.
And the best part? It's our garden. Jeremiah made it, we planted it (last year I helped!), and then we nurtured it and watched it grow and harvested the fruits of our labor.
It's like having kids, only with faster results. And I've never been sassed by a pumpkin.
We get a little better at this every year too. Kind of like having kids. We learn from experience, make adjustments based on what works, try not to make the same mistakes (don't forget to string the peas this year), it's a work in progress. And it's tasty work. And given the right circumstances I actually like getting a little dirt under my nails.
So it may be 3 months and probably a half-dozen more snowstorms away, but I can't wait for spring and our garden. Here's what we're thinking of planting this year:
-Zucchinis (if you haven't heard, we have the BEST soil for zukes, like massive, feed a whole village zukes.)
-Cucumbers
-Squash
-Carrots
-Green beans
-Green peas
-Onions
-Corn (and then I have cornstalks to decorate with in the fall)
-Lettuce
And this year we're going to try:
-Garlic
-Potatoes
-Tomatoes (Jeremiah says if I promise to take care of them, I can have them.)
-Strawberries, blueberries or raspberries, I don't care which, I just want some berries
-And we may plant pumpkins again if there's room.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
The Tao of the Vacuum
There are some household chores that I like and some I despise. Like, "please oh please, someone, anyone else do this" kind of despise. Surprisingly I don't mind cleaning bathrooms, there is something nice about a shiny, clean bathroom and I have a nice little system down. Plus the bathrooms are small so I'm in and out in a few minutes. I'm not so big on cleaning the tubs, but it's better then dusting, I hate dusting. That is my "anyone, anyone?" chore. I used to dust for my mom when I was little, I liked it then, I'm not sure why. I think it had to do with the lemon pledge and playing with all the little knick-knacks on all the surfaces. I don't think I ever broke any, but I know I sure played with them. My mother probably weighed the pros and cons of her precious chachkis against my being occupied for a good 45 minutes and having a few dusted surfaces and picked the same thing all of us mothers would.
I'm teaching Abby how to dust. How do you think I'm typing this?
My favorite chore, the one I actually want to do and get sad about not getting to is vacuuming. Yes, vacuuming. I love it, for so many reasons. First off, people leave you alone when you vacuum. It's loud and annoying to those around you and you can't hear them if they talk to you, or you can pretend you can't hear them and they eventually give up. It's private. I zone out to the constant hum/white noise of my big ol' vacuum. It's calming and I get into an almost meditative spot. Yes, I actually have thoughts that rattle around in my brain, and I have time to think them over, it's nice. And I love the clean carpet tracks that are left behind. You know, that nice re-fluffed carpet, it looks almost new, like the day it was installed instead of the carpet I actually have with the crayon wrappers and the dog hair and crushed up food crumbs imbedded in it. And do I have to mention that vacuuming burns calories? Especially with my vacuum. A few years ago my parents gave us a big ol' Kenmore vacuum, this thing is heavy but it sucks, I mean really sucks! It's awesome. I think it may actually suck up dirt from a parallel dimension it's that good.
Yes, life is good for me and my vacuum.
Except for my meddling kids. They have ruined my Zen Vacuuming moments.
It all started out the way it should. Abby used to be afraid of the vacuum, I think she learned it from our dog. I would have to put her in our bedroom on our bed with her sippy cup, a snack trap full of goldfish, her blankie, Snuggle Puppy, a baby doll and the TV on to Dora, then I could shut the door and vacuum the entire rest of the upstairs. Then move her and her posse out to the playroom and shut the door to our bedroom to finish the job (including vacuuming up the goldfish.) Then, my mother, with all of her Grandmotherly love, taught my daughter that the vacuum wasn't going to hurt her and she could actually make a game out of it. Thanks Mom. So now my daughter, and my son who has learned this game, play "oh no, the vacuum is going to get us!" whenever I vacuum. I hate this game. They run around me and the vacuum darting out of the way as it heads towards them, leaving their cute little footprints all over my freshly vacuumed tracks. They have ruined my vacuuming zen.
Then there's my son. Eli, having the fully activated boy gene, is actually drawn to the loud machine. I think he feels a certain kinship to something that is as loud as he is. He wants to help me. Oh sweet sheep, this is always murder. He has to turn it on, then he wants to hold it, but the thing weighs more than he does so I have to help him drag it back and forth across the carpet. Then he beams, "I helping Mommy!" and smiles his ridiculously cute little vampire toothed smile at me. Eventually they both get bored with me and my buddy Kenmore and run off to the other room and for a short time I get to be alone with my vacuum and my thoughts, but it's hard to get into that deep meditative place that I so enjoy.
Someday my house will be empty. There will be no more Barbie shoes or scraps of lovey blankie buried deep in the carpet to look out for. I won't have little kids offering to help or leaving their little footprints in my freshly vacuumed carpet. And I suppose that I will miss these days then. But, boy oh boy, will my carpet look good.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Dear Third Child,
A loving letter to our third child (currently in-utero),
Dear Baby,
You are still a tiny little dream, the internet says you're about three inches long. You have yet to start kicking me, but I'm sure going to the bathroom a lot. I have given up caffeine for you, so you'ed better come out mello and easy going; you will soon learn (as soon as you're weaned) that you don't want to talk to mommy in the morning until she has had at least one cup of coffee.
You have an older sister Abby, she's the bossy one you hear with your newly developed ears. Don't worry, you will soon come to ignore her like the rest of us. She is sweet and will read you books and sing to you and probably want to hold you all the time. She will boss you around and push you on occasion, but you will never have a better advocate, especially if it involves something that benefits her as well. She starts kindergarten 10 days before you're due to arrive...that should be interesting. Hormones, a big fat preggo, a couple of major life changing events and 90+ degree weather, your Dad may camp in the backyard for a few weeks just to get away.
Your brother, the soon to be middle child, is Eli. We're still getting to know him but as best as we can tell he's even louder than your sister. He is stubborn, strong-willed and adventurous. If you're going to get hit in the face with a foam sword or a wooden train on your 4th day of life it's going to be by him. My best advice to you is to learn to sleep with your hands in front of your face, a permanent block defense from your brother's curious "love."
You were a surprise blessing for us. God knew all along that you were coming, but your Dad and I thought we were done. That's cool, that's in God's plan. He is in control and we will trust in Him.
I would like to apologize for all the chocolate, I guess I didn't give up caffeine in all it's forms. Mommy has a weakness and really, you don't want to be around me if we're out of chocolate. I've been know to eat chocolate chips just to get my fix, but hey, it's not crack so you'll be fine.
Please stop making me burp, I find the indigestion is already getting on my nerves. If you don't like something there has to be a nicer way to tell me. Get used to the flavor of mixed berry Tums kid, you'll be seeing them a lot.
I would like to ask you now to please be nice to my inside. I'm sure from your vantage point you can see the old scars from the mortar shell attacks your brother waged on the inside of my uterus, and the area where your sister kept trying to get out through my oh-so-tender belly button with her knee or elbow or some other pointy thing she had in there with her.
Most of all I want you to know that before you were born I loved you. You will make me laugh and cry, scream and roll my eyes in frustration, but you are our blessing. Please grow strong and healthy in there and come out all pink and looking just like the other two, and weighing exactly 6#9oz.
Love,
Mommy
Dear Baby,
You are still a tiny little dream, the internet says you're about three inches long. You have yet to start kicking me, but I'm sure going to the bathroom a lot. I have given up caffeine for you, so you'ed better come out mello and easy going; you will soon learn (as soon as you're weaned) that you don't want to talk to mommy in the morning until she has had at least one cup of coffee.
You have an older sister Abby, she's the bossy one you hear with your newly developed ears. Don't worry, you will soon come to ignore her like the rest of us. She is sweet and will read you books and sing to you and probably want to hold you all the time. She will boss you around and push you on occasion, but you will never have a better advocate, especially if it involves something that benefits her as well. She starts kindergarten 10 days before you're due to arrive...that should be interesting. Hormones, a big fat preggo, a couple of major life changing events and 90+ degree weather, your Dad may camp in the backyard for a few weeks just to get away.
Your brother, the soon to be middle child, is Eli. We're still getting to know him but as best as we can tell he's even louder than your sister. He is stubborn, strong-willed and adventurous. If you're going to get hit in the face with a foam sword or a wooden train on your 4th day of life it's going to be by him. My best advice to you is to learn to sleep with your hands in front of your face, a permanent block defense from your brother's curious "love."
You were a surprise blessing for us. God knew all along that you were coming, but your Dad and I thought we were done. That's cool, that's in God's plan. He is in control and we will trust in Him.
I would like to apologize for all the chocolate, I guess I didn't give up caffeine in all it's forms. Mommy has a weakness and really, you don't want to be around me if we're out of chocolate. I've been know to eat chocolate chips just to get my fix, but hey, it's not crack so you'll be fine.
Please stop making me burp, I find the indigestion is already getting on my nerves. If you don't like something there has to be a nicer way to tell me. Get used to the flavor of mixed berry Tums kid, you'll be seeing them a lot.
I would like to ask you now to please be nice to my inside. I'm sure from your vantage point you can see the old scars from the mortar shell attacks your brother waged on the inside of my uterus, and the area where your sister kept trying to get out through my oh-so-tender belly button with her knee or elbow or some other pointy thing she had in there with her.
Most of all I want you to know that before you were born I loved you. You will make me laugh and cry, scream and roll my eyes in frustration, but you are our blessing. Please grow strong and healthy in there and come out all pink and looking just like the other two, and weighing exactly 6#9oz.
Love,
Mommy
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