Chins

I snapped a few photos of the boys last night when I realized they were clad in matching white onesies.  Neil has started calling Luke "cheeks and chin" because the little lad is well-endowed in both departments (although I think most of us would be if we ate 12 meals a day).

 



























 And speaking of eating, I had my first "Mommy, I made this just for you" s'mores the other day.  Fun milestone.  

summer kick-off

Friday was Abigail's last day of school, so we decided to celebrate our summer "officially" beginning by crossing off Wolf Park on our summer to-do list.  This is a wolf preserve not too far from our home; every Friday and Saturday they hold a Howl Night where you can go see the wolves, hear them howl, and listen to a lecture about their habits (very interesting--I learned a ton and I don't think the girls listened to a single word).

We were a little late (waiting for some cookies to finish baking) so we walked up right as the wolves were finishing their first--and last--howl, since they never howled again, but when they were supposed to be howling, we had front-row seats to playful wolves snarling and biting each other like crazy.  They seemed so tame and friendly until then, and I suddenly realized THEY WILL EAT MY KIDS given the chance.  It was pretty cool to watch, and probably the only thing the kids really paid attention to, but the wolves' latent ferocity (despite being "tame") was underscored by the way the wolves kept pacing back and forth in front of the only children in the audience (ours and some friends who met up with us there) and the lecturer commented on how the wolves were very interested in the children in a distinctly non-friendly way.  Every time Luke made a noise all the wolves pricked up their ears and turned towards him.

 

The alpha male of the pack is named Wolfgang (I know, right?) and he was extremely interested in Isaac.  This is pretty much what this wolf did for half the time we were there.   Mmm, Isaac. 

(Remember when I said I cut his hair?  I'm still getting used to it--he looks so big to me now.)

We had a really fun time, despite my being quite stressed over the way the children for some strange reason did not want to sit still on the bleachers for an hour listening to facts about wolves, but instead wanted to jump up and down, making satisfyingly loud noises, and dropping gravel through the cracks (we did not set a good example for the much more obedient children of our friends).  We also saw the foxes and bison at the preserve, and I really enjoyed the chance to just talk with other adults while the kids ran laps around the butterfly garden.  Fun night!

soapboxing again

I'm not sure whether it's that my babies have gotten easier or that I've gotten better at the weeks following a baby's arrival, but my last two babies have been much easier than my first two.  I thought I would write down some of the things that have helped me in case they're useful to anyone else.  I really hope this comes across the right way--I don't consider myself a fountain of wisdom on mothering by any means, but these are things I wish I'd known in the postpartum haze with earlier babies, where I was staggering around thinking, "There has got to be a better way!!"

1) Take advantage of help!

When my first two babies were born, I felt like I needed to socialize and be a good hostess for my visiting mother.  With my fourth, I slept in until 9:30 and napped when I was tired.  It made a world of difference.  Ditto to accepting offers of meals and playdates.

2) Drink tons of water and begin exercising when your doctor gives you the okay.

Exercise may feel like the last thing you want to do--as I write this, my eyelids are fluttering and the prospect of working out is far from appealing.  But I know that as soon as I finish up, the endorphins from my workout will buoy me through the rest of the day, help me to sleep better at night, and give me a jump-start on the postpartum weight loss (and let's be honest, getting rid of those pounds does SO much for your mood and general well-being!).  And water is like the miracle cure, especially if you're nursing.  Drink as much as you can hold!

3) Schedules, routines, and lists.

I am a huge list-maker, so what works for me may be frustrating for someone who is more of a go-with-the-flow type (but honestly, little kids are SO in love with routines that I think it becomes very beneficial to incorporate more routines).  In the last few weeks, I've focused on crossing off my regular to-do list items and not worrying about anything else:  I know that if I'm doing those daily tasks, just as I've been doing for years, that my house will be clean, the laundry will get done, I will exercise, and I'll spend quality time with the kids every day.  Fitting in a baby's schedule has been so much easier when I work my to-do list around nursing sessions, because I know exactly what I need to do each day to keep the house going--there's no feeling of a huge backlog of unidentified tasks that need to be done.  The biggest benefit to sticking by my lists is that my older children get quality one-on-one time with me every day (since this is written into my daily plan) and I don't feel guilty about neglecting them for the new baby.  This has also really helped them with the transition.  And last but not least, having such a cemented routine means that we just carry on with the normal activities assigned to each day, and their little lives don't get disrupted because we're doing the exact same things we always do, just with another tiny person in tow.

4) Prepare ahead.

About twelve weeks before Luke was born, Neil and I made a comprehensive list of everything we needed to do prior to his birth.  This included everything from setting up Luke's sleeping space to planting the garden to home improvement projects.  Working through these meant that we were prepped and ready to go (with the exception of unanticipated car trouble during my hospital stay).  I also made a few freezer meals and wrote down 8 weeks of menu plans and shopping lists, since food preparation always seems to be the craziest part of the new baby adjustment. 

5) Go on with your life; don't wait for things to calm down.

A week ago, we spent dinnertime discussing all the things we wanted to do as a family over the summer (hence the picture at the top of this post). Neil and I had spent an hour on Sunday afternoon discussing our summer goals and things we wanted to implement in our family to be more successful as parents and as a family unit.  The tendency I had with my first couple of babies was to shift into survival mode, telling myself, 'This, too, shall pass."  Obviously, some sleepless nights will derail the best-laid plans, but in my mind it's better to carry on:  plant the garden, go to the zoo, keep up with family scripture study and date nights and the like, rather than letting your life be completely dictated by the whims of an infant (I've also found that this helps me to look at the baby as a welcome member of the family, rather than that little yeller who is disrupting our ordered existence).  And again, I think this helps the adjustment of the older children--we still do fun things and work towards our family goals, rather than letting them fall by the wayside for three or six months until things are "back to normal." 

I would LOVE to hear what works for you as you adjust to a new baby, whether it's your first or your fifth!

graduation, tornado-style

Abigail and her very beloved teacher

 Tornado watches and warnings are, unfortunately, pretty standard in our part of the country.  I grew up in Ohio and remember (not with fondness) tromping down to the basement and sitting in the dark waiting for the radio to tell us it was safe again outside (the worst part was going downstairs for a tornado "drill" at school and seeing the sky scribbled in a weird mix of orange and green.  Drill, my eye).

Today Neil and Juliet left for Abigail's kindergarten "graduation" while I stayed home with the boys, who were both asleep.  Literally two minutes after Neil and Jooj left, the heavens opened and rain started bucketing down.  Neil told me later that he grabbed a towel from the van, wrapped it around Juliet, and dashed inside--they were both soaked to the skin when they got into the school.  They went in for Abigail's graduation just as the tornado sirens went off, so they spent the next hour crammed into the more sheltered areas of the school.  (There are a lot of crazy pictures on the camera from this time, since Neil was using it to distract Juliet (not from the wild storm outside, but from all the boys in the room.  She is really afraid of boys.))

They were finally able to do a very abbreviated version of the graduation--Abigail was especially excited because one child from each class had been asked to do a part in the program, and she was her class's representative.  Everyone was whisked through and then told they needed to go move their cars immediately so the buses could get out, so all of the potlucked post-graduation treats were packed back up and taken home with their donors (um, huge bummer!!  that's always the best part of these things!)  Neil and the girls finally arrived home, soaked and muddy from helping to push cars out of the sodden muck, but safe and sound.  I was so glad to have everyone together again.  I HATE tornado season. 

very wet Neil and Juliet waiting out the storm in the nurse's office--can you see how soaked Joojer is?

in the wee hours

Neil took this picture of the three of us sometime in the middle of the night (it was a really long night).  Despite the lack of makeup and the shadows under my eyes, I really love this shot, because it seems to embody the affection we have for this wee little man (even if he does hiccup for an hour straight).  And the love I have for this tall man, who spent a goodly portion of the night reading scientific journals with Luke in the living room so that I could get some sleep.

a little contemplation

This morning was a hard wake-up call.  Yesterday was a beautiful day in every sense of the word--things went smoothly, we spent lots of time out in the breezy sunshine, and we ended the day with happy children, a clean house, and breakfast (homemade yogurt, muesli, strawberries & blackberries) prepped and ready to go in the 'fridge.  I thought I was doing pretty well at this four kids business.

I'm not sure what happened in the night, but I woke up this morning riding the hormone roller coaster.  It felt like Luke napped in five-minute stretches all night, although the clock told me otherwise.  I fell asleep with him in my arms this morning around 8 (Neil had been up for hours) and woke up to Luke simultaneously throwing up on my neck and urinating all over my stomach (thanks to my sleepy haze that forgot to change him at the last feeding).  I stumbled out of bed, saw Isaac's hair that I had buzzed last night after watching him run around all day with hair plastered to his head with sweat, and started crying because he looked so grown up and I wasn't ready for it.  Then I totally botched my beautiful breakfast by blending part of the spinach bag into everyone's green smoothies.  Awesome. 

As I went about the day, I felt a lot better.  Swishing the mop over the kitchen floor at naptime, I realized why:  I had spent the day focused on making my home a more pleasant place for my family.  We read stories for an hour in the morning, baked blueberry muffins together for lunch, picked up, vacuumed, and mopped.  Nothing too huge, but all things that I felt were making our home environment more welcoming and nurturing, which in turn calmed me.

The world spends a lot of time telling us that as women, we are entitled to more worthy pursuits than raising children and creating a home that is lovely, peaceful, and a haven from the world (I'm a member of a tongue-in-cheek Facebook group called "I got an advanced degree to be a stay-at-home mom").  Fortunately, there are plenty of people who also speak out in support of the role of mothering and homemaking, but I was thinking today about how true I've found this to be in my own life: some days I bemoan the endless hamster wheel of tasks that are never finished (laundry, anyone?) but I also find peace and satisfaction in a freshly-mopped kitchen floor, the breezy scent of clean laundry, the fan of picture books surrounding an engrossed child, and the handfuls of dandelions excitedly presented to me in grubby little fingers.  I loved this quote from J.K. Rowling about Molly Weasley:   "I wanted to make the point that just because a woman dedicates her life to her family, doesn’t mean she’s not highly skilled and talented and powerful."

That's what I'm thinking about today. 

garden and baby Luke

When I came home from the hospital a week ago, looking out in the backyard was like a recipe for stress.  The grass was overgrown, and the garden had undergone a weed explosion (seriously, it was awful).  We'd had a week of 90-degree weather and thunderstorms, which seemed to signal everything to go crazy growing.  Then we had a week of 30-degree nights, so all my little plants couldn't actually get tucked into the soil until things warmed up.

This weekend we spent Friday night and Saturday morning working on the garden, and I must tell you, I was so overjoyed to have it done!  As I patted the soil around the last of my transplants, I felt a huge surge of relief and I was so happy I went inside and made this.  It's so nice to want to cook again--I feel like I've been in a slump for months.  Winter is a dark time for me food-wise.  But as you can see from the picture above, my sink is full of lettuce, radishes, and green onions, and I have high hopes for everything we planted yesterday.  We're doing a very simplified garden this year because I know this summer will be a little crazy (we're focusing on beans, tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, squash, zucchini, lettuces, and herbs--lots of all of the above, but you'll notice most of those are not very weeding-intensive crops--thank heavens for black plastic and lawn clippings-as-mulch).  I spent an hour weeding the lettuce box and transplanting the little lettuces that seeded themselves all over the rest of the garden--I've never done this before, but it was AWESOME, so I will every fall from now on--I let the fall lettuce just go to seed and left it there over the winter (lazy much?) and voila, this spring there were baby lettuces everywhere and we've been glorying in sinkfuls of lettuce!

 Luke slept in his little bouncy seat for most of the time that we were in the garden--it was lovely and breezy and beautiful being out there with my little family.  Every few minutes I would pause in my mud-grubbing, look around, and think, "We have four children!  Four!"  I wish we had more times like that, because that's what feels really idyllic to me--being outside in the cool spring mornings and evenings working together with my family.

After we finished in the garden on Saturday, Neil went back to work.  The afternoon and evening were hard for me alone with the kids.  Everyone was really well-behaved, considering all the upheaval of the last few weeks, but I found myself feeling pretty tense over trying to monitor all four of them, keep everyone in clean diapers, doing laundry, and making dinner.  I haven't had much time to just sit down with the kids and play or read stories this week, and I've really missed that and I think my attitude towards them has suffered because of it--I feel guilty which hampers my ability to be patient.  Abigail and Juliet have been super-involved in their own imaginative world and there hasn't been much room left for me, and I've been feeling mournful over that.  I love the fact that they play so well together, but it still makes me sad that they're not excited to cuddle up with me and read stories or play with Legos (plus I'm still trying to find better tools/strategies for building a good relationship with Abigail--this article on six-year-olds caught my eye this morning). 

But enough words--forgive my verbosity; everyone else is at church and Luke is napping peacefully--here are some more pictures of baby darlingness.  He is so adorable and sweet and kissable--and he has those patented enormous cheek-pillows that are just perfect for nibbling and kissing a million times a day!  (the second picture is of him doing what Neil calls his "Thriller hands.")

from my journal

I wrote this entry in my journal just over a year ago, on May 14, 2010.  As you can imagine, it wasn't something I felt comfortable sharing publicly then, but now that Luke is here I want to share how faith-promoting this pregnancy has been for me.  In addition to the story below, you may recall that last year I was really debating running a marathon or a half-marathon; just a few weeks after I prayed about running a full marathon and got a very definite "NO" I found out I was pregnant.  I ran the half marathon with no problem; just a few days before the date of the full marathon that I'd been thinking about running I was diagnosed with placenta previa and put on bedrest.

What I really want to share with you, however, is how strongly I felt about this baby coming to our family, even though my mind told me  "The kids are so close!  Take a break!  Enjoy a year or two without a baby!"  I know that Luke came to join us at the perfect time--and I'm grateful for that knowledge. 

Two weeks ago I was sitting in Fast and Testimony meeting.  Neil was out in the foyer coaxing Isaac to sleep, so it was just the girls and I together in the pew.  They were sitting next to me coloring quietly.  It was idyllic--I was able to listen intently to the testimonies and really take everything in.

One of my friends got up and talked about how after ten years of trying to have a baby, they had a child offered to them for adoption.  Everything was in place for this child to be theirs, when they had a strong spiritual prompting that this child was not supposed to be a part of their family.  That they were not supposed to continue their efforts to have children in mortality.  And so they told the birth mother that they could not take the baby. 

I know this woman.  I know how devastating this was for her.  I know that she and her husband have been hoping and planning for years.  That they have a nursery set up.  Waiting.  I know that she has been in mourning since she made that choice.  I have watched her come to terms with this and embark on a new phase in her life.  I truly admire her strength and her faith. 

Another of my dear friends stood up.  She is the mother of seven children.  She is the kind of mother I want to be.  She talked about what a blessing it is to be a mother--to have a large family.  To teach and to learn.  She mentioned how touched she was by the other woman's faith.  How her children had been impacted by this woman's service as their seminary teacher.   

As I listened to these two women, I felt an overwhelming flood of the Spirit.  Tears came into my eyes.  I felt a strong confirmation of what I am doing as a mother.  I felt that it was important for us to bring more children into our family.  I felt like we should not wait any longer to have another baby. 

After Isaac was born, I was in the hospital holding him and a voice said in my mind, "Enjoy him.  Relish this.  But there's another one right behind him who is waiting to come to your family."

Every couple of months, I have had a reminder of that prompting.  I remember that there is another baby for us--soon.  And then I go about my day, because I know that time is not yet.  But I know that I need to prepare.  So I run.  I do yoga.  I eat carefully.  I do what I can to strengthen my body in preparation to have another baby after a difficult third pregnancy. 

But in church that day two weeks ago, I knew that time is rapidly drawing to a close.  That baby is coming soon.  And I am so grateful.

one week

 We're settling in--slowly but surely.  My mom has been here for the last couple of weeks (she came the Monday before he was born) and she has helped SO much.  I don't know what I'm going to do when she leaves (probably cry a lot--no guilt, Mom!) but it's great having her here.  We've been eating real food and I've been getting enough sleep--I even started running again when Luke was 5 days old, which made a huge difference in my mood and energy level.

Luke is a lovely little man so far--eats happily, sleeps well (except for in his own crib, of course, but he'll learn eventually), and is generally a ball of baby deliciousness.  So far, so good, although I definitely could have done without our usual post-baby car apocalypse (if you recall our transmission went out while we were on vacation when Isaac was a few weeks old; this time Neil was able to replace the brakes and struts himself--another reason why it was great to have my mom here, as he spent most of the time I was in the hospital working on the car--but the $4000 proposed bill for the A/C repair means we'll be a little warm this summer while we keep our eyes open for a new minivan.  If anyone is selling theirs, please let me know!!  And if you'd like a van with a new transmission, struts, and brakes but no A/C, please let me know.  :-)

And without further ado, here are more pictures.

Luke's birth story

 

As you can probably imagine, this is very long!  Skip to the end if you want to know how Hypnobabies worked for me or my thoughts on running during pregnancy.  And yes, I'm wearing my swimsuit in this picture, and yes, I was kind of (okay a lot) embarrassed later when I realized that I was just hanging out in my swimsuit while the world tromped through my delivery room.

I'm not sure how I want to start this.  I've been very torn the last week over letting the baby come at his pace, and trying to accommodate some scheduling and health issues that have come up.  At my 40-week appointment, my doctor offered to break my water the next day.  I was really upset and unsure the rest of the night, but Neil gave me a blessing and then I spent almost the ENTIRE night up with contractions, horrible nerve pain in my legs, and nonstop baby kicking, which pretty much decided me.  

The doctor broke my water around 8 am. I was 3 cm/70% effaced with the baby at zero station.  With Isaac, this was enough to put me into serious labor right away and he was born by 1 pm.  This time around was not so easy.  I was worried about having him before 5 pm, since she wasn't on call and needed to get home to her own children, and I think this made me tense up.  Neil and I walked the halls of the hospital for four hours with exactly zero changes to my dilation.  About 12:30, after a lot of discussion with the doctor, we started the lowest possible dose of Pitocin to try to get contractions going, with the plan being to turn off the Pit after an hour or so.  Neil fell asleep and I listened to my Hypnobabies while the contractions got steadily more intense until they were about a minute apart, at which point we turned the Pitocin off.  And still no changes to my dilation—discouraging, as you can probably imagine.

I labored for an hour on my own, and I was at a 4.  I know that many women dilate this much before they go into labor, but for me it’s always been a pretty agonizing process to get this far—by 4 cm, my contractions have always been 2 minutes apart, tops, and very intense.  Another hour, and I was at a 6.  Things kind of blur out from here; I know when I hit a 6 I got out of the birthing tub and sat on the birthing ball for awhile, and told the nurse and Neil that I wanted an epidural.  They told me I didn't, and I sat on the birthing ball for awhile longer.

After awhile I started feeling really intense pressure.  My back had also been hurting so much that I was wondering if he was posterior, because the pain was super concentrated in my back and things were going SO slowly.  I was also stressed because it was 4:30 and I knew my doctor had to go home in half an hour.  I asked to be checked again and I was only at a 7 after almost nine hours of labor, and my last two labors were 5 hours and 7 hours.  I felt like if I could just get some relief from the pain I would be able to relax and dilate the last three centimeters, because I was tense enough that despite my best efforts, I was not able to relax into the contractions.  I was also starting to feel the urge to push, and I knew that it was too early, so I was tensing up with each contraction to avoid pushing, which was counter-productive. I told Neil I wanted an epidural, he said I didn't, the nurse said I didn't, and my doctor said I didn't.  I said yes, I sure did.  They checked me again and I was only at 7.5, so everyone said, well, maybe you should get it after all.  Eventually they brought in the anesthesiologist, he started an epidural, and nothing happened!   He tried a whole bunch of different medicines, and one took some of the edge of the pain off in the left side of my back, but I was still having to work really hard to get through each contraction in the same zone.  So intense.  The anesthesiologist finally said he was sorry but there was nothing he could do—sometimes it just didn’t work.  Even though I didn’t get relief from the pain, I think simply thinking that I would was enough to let me relax the needed amount.  I also found it easier at this point to deal with the contractions lying on the bed rather than moving around, which I know goes against most of the natural childbirthing methods, but it’s what worked for me. 

About half an hour into this I felt the urge to push as completely unstoppable, called in a nurse, and the doctor came in and said I was complete.  I wasn't sure if I would be able to push through the contractions, because they were so intense (at this point I whimpered once for the first time).  I should also add that the best part of this was that my doctor had arranged for her daughter to pick up her son so that she could stay until my baby was born—I was SO grateful for that. 

I pushed through one contraction—and it was really difficult.  I decided to wait and push when the contractions stopped, because I had read that this could be an effective way to push without tearing.  So as soon as that contraction stopped, I pretty much gave it all I had with the goal of not having another contraction before the baby was born, and let me tell you—they aren’t joking about that ring of fire thing.  My doctor, Neil, and the nurses were fantastic at this point—they told me how close he was and that he would be out in about three good pushes.  So I pushed through the pain—and it was actually pretty cool to feel everything sort of morphing around him—and voila, baby!  It’s amazing how as soon as the baby’s born, everything just stops—the pain goes away completely.  It’s incredibly rewarding.  He was born after about 3 minutes of pushing and everyone commented on how he looked like a C-section baby because his head was so round and unmolded.  Cute kid.  :-)  

I have to say that I was so exhausted that when they laid him on my chest I couldn’t even lift my arms to put them around him.  The labor was just so intense that I was pretty much drained.  But he was incredibly alert—eyes open, looking around at everything, and acting like he was weeks old rather than a newborn!  They took him away after a few minutes to clean him up and try to get him to cry, and when he came back a few minutes later I was alert enough to hold him without feeling like I would drop him.  He started nursing right away and nursed for about an hour and a half. 

Hypnobabies
Now.  I know a bunch of people were interested in how I thought the Hypnobabies program worked for me.  I was pretty faithful about doing all of the Hypnobabies practice beforehand (I started about 27 weeks), but I have to say that I experienced more relaxation from using it than anything approaching actual hypnosis.  During labor, I listened to the Hypnobabies CDs all the way through up until the last forty-five minutes, at which point it was distracting and I asked Neil to turn it off.  It helped me a LOT while I was on Pitocin, and I got through that hour of close contractions simply by focusing and breathing through each contraction.  As labor progressed, I needed something much more active to engage me, so I found that the birthing tub and birthing ball where I could actively move with both was more helpful, even through I had the Hypnobabies going in the background.  This also sounds weird, but it helped me, so I’ll write it—vocalizing helped a lot from about 5-10 cm.  Concentrating on my breathing wasn’t enough, so I tried to see how long I could just make a low monotonous noise without taking a breath, and usually 2 or 3 of those would get me through the worst part of the contraction. (Between contractions I was kind of embarrassed, because it seemed really weird, but during contractions it felt so natural and was the only thing getting me through.) This worked for me right up until the pushing stage.  I also have to say this with the caveat that mine was not a spontaneous chemical-free labor, so Hypnobabies might work better for someone who goes into labor on their own and has a more gradual experience. 

The main reason I didn’t want an epidural when I was planning beforehand was twofold:  I wanted the baby to be alert and I wanted to be able to walk afterwards  Well, he is DEFINITELY the most alert baby I’ve had yet, and it was awesome to be able to get up on my own and go to the bathroom, change, etc.  I had no tearing, no swelling, and no pain afterwards at all.  Except for the dizziness, I felt like I could go running right away or just pick up with my normal routine (don’t get me wrong, I am loving time to just cuddle my baby and read!)

Running
Speaking of running, this is the other thing that most people have been asking me about after delivery (and by this I mean every single nurse that has entered my room).  I mentioned to my doctor that I’d run 5 miles on Monday to try to kickstart labor, and she told all the nurses this during the last few minutes of delivery, and apparently word spread—a number of the nurses have asked me for tips on running through pregnancy, which I thought was kind of funny because I am definitely no expert.  But I have to say that I think running has helped a LOT with the strength reserves and muscle tone I needed to get through that delivery.  I also noticed that despite weighing the exact same as I’ve weighed just before every baby is born (no matter how much I weigh in the beginning and what I eat and what I do I always end up at the same number!!), my post-partum body is much trimmer than it has been in the past. 
So if you’re thinking about running through your next pregnancy, I would say go for it.  At times it was hard to make myself run yet again, but it kept all the swelling down in my ankles (which was a huge problem for me last time), kept the endorphin levels high, and seems to have been a big factor in how well my body did after a pretty grueling delivery.  I also felt much better during early pregnancy than I usually do--it helped with the nausea and fatigue (although I don't have really bad morning sickness, so take this with a grain of salt).  As far as adjusting my running during pregnancy, I kept running the same distance right up to the end--I found that speed was a much bigger factor than distance.  So I just gradually slowed it down from an 8:30 mile when I was 6 weeks pregnant to a 10:54 mile at full term.  I did run at 9:13/mile when I was 39 weeks and really felt it the next day, so I would advise dropping speed before distance.  I used a support band for my stomach and that helped a lot.  I also did most of my runs in the 2nd and 3rd trimesters on my treadmill, which helped me to avoid stumbling on uneven sidewalks and ensured I was always close to my waterbottle.  

baby!

Luke Neil Bailey

May 12

8 lbs, 6 oz. 21.5 inches long

I can't believe I now have four children!

mother's day

I had a truly lovely Mother's Day yesterday reveling in my children.  They were not angelically behaved all day, nor did they shower me with thoughtful gifts and lots of hugs and kisses.  But they climbed into my bed with tousled hair and snuggled up with me as the sun was rising.  They sat on my lap during church, threw their arms around my neck, and whispered loudly in my ear.  They set the table for dinner and trundled away the dishes and helped each other with their shoes. After dinner we all went for a walk in the woods and they ran back and forth and gave me their little treasures of sticks and leaves and held onto my hand with grubby fingers.  They pointed out ducks and geese and squirrels and I grinned back at them, full of the sheer joy of being in their company. 


  

testing

for some reason Google Reader isn't transferring any posts--is this working?

39 weeks

There are some women who handle the last weeks of pregnancy really gracefully:  they are serene, happy, and enjoying the last few weeks without a newborn.  They pack in projects and adventures and memory-making with their families.

And there are others who are tired of living in a constant state of heightened alert; of analyzing every ache and twinge of pain as a possible pre-labor symptom, who have organized every last thing in their house that it is possible to organize, who compulsively clean their homes every evening in case they go into labor that night, who are Ready To Be Done. 

Guess which type I am. 

End of post, except for obsessive over-analysis which follows.
***
I'm now six days away from my "due date."  But I'm beginning to think that my due date is too early (remember when it got bumped up six days?) because it was changed based on a 12-week ultrasound at which my husband was not present.  With every other baby, the tech has looked at how tall Neil is (6 feet 5 inches) and said, "Um, your baby is measuring big, but you are really tall, so we'll just stick with the original due date."  I had another ultrasound at fifteen weeks and one at eighteen weeks, at which the baby was measuring about a week behind according to the adjusted due date (and I have quite large babies).  My stomach measurements have also been about a week behind for the last few months, and my "progress" (hello, euphemisms) has matched where I was at 38 weeks with Isaac rather than 39 weeks (I am, however, where I was at 39 weeks with Juliet).  I know exactly when my LMP was, but my cycle was really irregular because I was running so much, so that's why I didn't say anything when my due date was changed in the first place. 

So needless to say, this is driving me crazy.  Am I actually due next week on the 12th?  Or am I due on the 18th, plus another 3 or 4 days because most people go 3 days late on average, which means I should be looking for this baby around the 21st or 22nd?  (Which is about the most depressing thought ever.)  But if the baby isn't due until then, that means all the running and lawn-mowing and strenuous things I'm doing because hey, might start labor--all that is just exhausting me to no point (when I got up the other morning after a faster-than-usual run the night before, I could actually hear my joints clicking as I walked.  Yowch!)

Also--if May 12th is actually the right due date, and I really am 39w1d, that means I have been pregnant longer with this baby than with the last two.  I was already home from the hospital with Isaac...

And what if May 18th is my real due date, and the doctor doesn't want to wait until the 25th to discuss induction (which I know she doesn't because we talked about this yesterday?)  aaaahhh! 

Do you see why I wake up every morning at 5 am and have trouble getting back to sleep because my mind just won't turn off?!!

If anyone is still reading my crazed ramblings, I would really, really, really love to hear if you've had your due date changed based on ultrasound and whether it was accurate or not.

**also--despite how skeletal my arms look in this picture, I have gained plenty of weight.  they just always look like that. i know it's kind of weird. 

5-minute bathroom redo

 

 This is what our kids' bathroom looked like this morning.  Totally taking a picture on a bad day (like all the diapers hanging up to dry), but it is a room that I have not been in love with.  When we moved in it was AWFUL and I repainted, bought a new towel rack, cabinet, and hung up some art, but that was about it.  I never found a shower curtain that I liked, and the kids were all using mismatched towels (I love their beach towels, but not so much for daily use).

We found ourselves at Target this morning, mostly because I knew I had to replace the shower curtain before we had family in town for the baby--the grommets had ripped out and it was barely hanging on.  I decided as long as I was biting the bullet I might as well start the process of "staging" the bathroom for selling next year, so I added in new towels (blue & brown, which I'm not sure about, so I left the tags on) and a soap dispenser (I brought in the orchid from another room).  I moved the curtain rod up 6 inches as well. (I think I'll need to get a new rug at some point and do a couple of other things--but so much better!)