Back in the Saddle

So, my blogging life has been thrown to the wayside recently, but I'm determined to keep it up.  Even if no one ever looks at this stuff, it's good for me to get it out there.

Highlights since the last post:

We went fishing twice. The kids had more fun climbing trees and throwing rocks, and we didn't catch a thing, and forgot our camera, but that's to be expected. Here's some phone pictures.

You can actually see me in the middle of the light patch of grass on the left,
--dealing with a snag on that branch in the middle of the stream. I got my only bite right before that happened.

My 4 year old started Preschool.  I was torn about sending him off on his own, and then paying someone else to teach him things that I actually feel quite qualified to teach him myself (not to mention things he already knows --like his colors), but I decided that what I couldn't teach him would be the social aspect of things-- how to make friends, to get along with peers in a school setting, to stand up and talk in front of a group... etc.  I think it will be good for him since he'll be one of the younger ones going into kindergarten next year (Eeeek, next year!)  He's actually loving it, and I think he and his brother appreciate some time away from each other... I mean, they appreciate each other more when they're together. :)

I actually didn't get any pictures on his official first day of school, he had scabs all over his nose from falling down the stairs, although the true reason is that we were running late --as usual.

My baby was blessed.  The blessing his father gave him was beautiful, I wish I had written some of it down.  We had both sets of grandparents there, two sisters and a brother-in-law, and I didn't manage to get any pictures somehow.   I'm seeing a pattern of a lack of record keeping for this baby that I hope doesn't continue.  Poor thing.  This is the most recent still picture I have of him. It's actually the only one I have from the past 4 weeks and I didn't even take it. :(

I'm glad I didn't go get one of those fancy little suits to bless him in though since right after the thing he had a major blow-out.  I know, TMI.  Isn't he getting so chubby? 13 lbs 3.5 oz at his 2 month check up!

We bottled fruit!  We actually found the energy to can some fruit that my mother brought from Utah.  Bless her and my dad.  They checked both boxes on the plane to get it to us so we could have free fruit to preserve.  You might think that that would defeat the purpose of it being free, but no, they get free airfare since my sister works at an airport and you can check a package (or luggage) up to 45lbs. so they did!  And no, writing "Handle Carefully" all over the box doesn't do a thing.

Yay for home canning!

Of course, I prefer it this way...

Fresh peaches and cream!  YUM!

My kids do too, and I admit I had a hard time sharing.

Look at those puppy eyes.  How could anyone say no to that?

My husband turned 28!  So for a month or so, it'll look like we're only one year apart (on paper anyway),  but actually we're two.  Yeah, I know, I robbed the cradle.  (I'm turning the big 3-0 this year, and I'm sure you'll hear about it in a later post.)  Isn't he so accomplished for a 28 year old?  Has three kids, a master's degree, teaches college courses, and still looks like he's 19!

Homemade Hostess, Yum!  Complete with marshmallow creme filling (thanks for the idea Jen and Melissa) and chocolate ganache on top (which for some reason didn't really set, but it tasted good anyway).

So that was our last month and a half in a nutshell.

Sadly, I wanted to to a whole post about how much I love September and how Labor Day is my favorite holiday, but I guess I'll have another chance next year.  I will however post one thing (besides fresh peaches) that I love about September:

BLTs with fresh-from-the-garden tomatoes!  I ask you, were fresh, juicy, garden tomatoes made for anything else?  I can hardly bring myself to buy those waxy things you find at the store, and I refuse to have BLTs any other time of the year.

Oh yeah, I also LOVE corn on the cob, but I didn't get any pictures of that.  My husband prefer's corn off the cob, so this is what I bought him for his birthday:

Nothing says "I love you" like a corn cob cutter. ;)

Who Needs It Anyway?

Notice anything different about me?

I don't have a gall bladder!


Yeah, so as we were moving ... like on the way to our new home in Idaho, I started having another pain in my stomach area.  At first I thought it was just indigestion from the Wendy's I had eaten, but honestly, if that is what indigestion really felt like, the people who get it all the time would shoot themselves.  By 1:00 in the morning, I was in the E.R.

They sent me home.

After doing some tests, the doctor was sure he had found my problem --a raging UTI (raging was their word).

Now I may not be an anatomy major, but I think I know where my bladder is, and it is not up under my ribs where this pain was emanating from.

So, I took his pain prescription (some narcotics that made it unsafe to breastfeed my baby) and the doctor referrals (although they didn't do me much good since it was Sunday) and went home.

Well, the powerful pain meds didn't do much, and I spent the whole day writhing in agony.  We called around to the other doctors offices, and to my brother who's a doctor in Washington, and got the same answer.  Everything points to the gall bladder, and we should have had some imaging done -- an ultrasound or something.

So, we went back to the E.R. and demanded an ultrasound.

They admitted me for immediate surgery.

Although there was no infection, my gall bladder was terribly inflamed and there were several stones.

Great, more stones.  But at least I felt validated once again.

Can I just say to that E.R. doctor, "I TOLD YOU SO!"

So I just spent the last few days in the hospital again.

So now you ask, "What did you do with your three children while you were supposed to be moving in to a new home and your husband was supposed to be starting his first days of work?"

Well, that's where the blessings come in.

So, I know I was feeling a little whiny the last time I posted, I hope this doesn't come across as more of the same... but no, that housing never did go through.  We wasted $80 and a week of our lives together on that, but it didn't pan out.  I finally gave up and went back to a place we had found weeks before --luckily it was still available-- and within one day, it was ours.  My mother came and helped me pack and clean, my husband came home and we filled the moving truck, and we were off.

Well, if we had gotten that housing that we had been trying for, and moved on the 11th like we had planned, my mom wouldn't have been here when the gall bladder attack hit.  I honestly don't know what I would have done without her.  She was a Godsend, and I'll be forever thankful for all her hard work.  I mean, it was enough that she packed my things and scrubbed my walls and floors, but then she drove my car to Idaho, sat with me in the E.R. in the middle of the night ...twice... and while I was gone took care of my children and got up with the baby all through the nights to feed and change him. Oh, and she did my laundry and dishes the whole time she was here.

That was definitely a tender mercy of the Lord.  The fact that she could even come and stay for longer than planned, was truly a blessing.

We've had so many blessings.

We were more than lucky.  The attack could have happened earlier in the day on that long car ride to Idaho, and I would have been in misery the whole way. I was completely worthless the moment I got to our new place-- not being able to do much beyond lying on the floor in pain.

I don't know what we would have done without my husband's brother and his wife to help move boxes and furniture out of the moving truck, and to give us a wonderful dinner that lasted two days.

I'm so grateful for my sister-in-law who came to take my two older kids for a day so my husband could get things moved in and my mom could get a rest.

I'm also grateful for my in-laws who are coming this weekend to take care of us for a few days.  The kids love them, and it will be a welcome distraction.

There were so many little things too.  It just so happens that we live a block away from the hospital, which made it a lot easier to find.  I'm also so glad that the baby took a bottle and formula for the first time so well, since I had never tried before this weekend. People from our Church, who we've never even met, are already set up to help take the kids while my husband is at work as soon as the in-laws are gone too. What a blessing!

Someone might ask, "Why did all this have to happen right now, at the worst possible time?" and feel that I've been very picked on.  I admit, I might have thought something like that once or twice... but you know, difficult things just happen, and there is really no good time.

I'm just glad that He softened this difficult time with so many blessings.

Pod Mostem

On my mission in Poland, I lived in an apartment that was right next to a big bridge that went over a major river.  We were kind of below and to the side of it since it was raised up with small shops and parking lots underneath it, but the only way I could describe where we lived in the language was to say that we lived "pod mostem," or beneath the bridge.  Well, one day when I used this expression, some Polish people laughed at me.  They explained that to say you live "pod mostem" was to say you were homeless.  I don't think they could imagine an American being homeless, since all the Americans they knew were quite wealthy by their standards, not to mention that most of their knowledge about America came from Hollywood.

This is the actual bridge in Warsaw. This was practically the view from our front door.

I saw so many homeless people in Poland.  So many begging on the streets, or sleeping on cardboard boxes in the train stations.  It was a big eye opener, and really put things into perspective.  It made me more grateful for what I had, but it also made me really wonder why I had been so blessed.  Why had I been born in a free country, to a family who loved me, and had the blessing of the restored gospel?  I actually felt guilty sometimes.  I mean, what had I done to deserve it all?  I really have no reason to ever whine.

I've been feeling kinda sorry for myself lately.  I've been way stressed out because we were supposed to move this week, but the housing situation we are trying to get into is taking longer than we anticipated.  It's still not a sure thing, and time is running out.  If we do get it, we will be lucky if we can move in next weekend.  In the meantime, my husband is going to have to leave me here all alone, with two kids and a brand new baby, to pack up our house while he attends orientation meetings and such for his work.  He'll come back just in time to help us pack the moving truck and drive back there.  Honestly, just having a new baby and two toddlers is enough to overwhelm me, but to add all that on top of it? ...yeah.

So today, I am counting my blessings.

1. At least we have a home.  We're lucky to be able to stay here until the housing goes through ...and it's free!  What a blessing!
2. At least I have a husband.  Even though he'll be away, it's not a permanent thing --I couldn't ever imagine being a single parent.
3. We are so blessed to have family and friends nearby that can help out, whether it's a grandmother lending my husband a car so he can get where he needs to be and not leave me car-less, or a mother who can come and help me with the cleaning and packing, or neighbors who can watch the kids, or family to help us move in to our new house.  We are so blessed.
4. At least I have my health.  Now that the kidney stone and the pregnancy are over, I'm glad to be free of pain, and am starting to feel a little bit of my energy come back.  Sure, I'm tired all the time from lack of sleep, and still recovering, but overall I'm feeling good.
5. My kids are healthy too.  In fact, they're a little too rambunctious and energetic for me these days, but I wouldn't have it otherwise.

I could go on about money and freedom and the gospel etc., but this has served it's purpose.  Now I don't feel so sorry for myself.

Isn't it great what a little gratitude can do?

Oh yeah, one last thing.
6. At least I don't have to cook dinner tonight because it is being brought to us by members of our ward.  The Relief Society sisters have been bringing us dinner every other night for the last two weeks since the baby was born, and it's been wonderful!

I have to admit, I didn't have that with the last two babies, because 1- we moved right after our first was born and I don't think anyone knew about us, and 2- I was too stubborn and proud to allow people to help with the second.

I've learned my lesson though.  Bless and let bless.  I love making dinners for other people when they need it.  Why should I deny myself the blessings others would like to share, and why should I deny them the opportunity of blessing us, and receiving blessings themselves? --just so I can show everyone that I've got it together?  that I can handle what I've gotten myself into? that I can do it on my own?  That doesn't make any sense.

This time though, I don't pretend to have it all together, and I'm not exactly sure what I've gotten myself into, and I know I can't do it all on my own... but I do know that this is what the Lord intended for me, and He is helping and will help me to do it-- mostly through the service of others.

Not only am I not homeless, but I'm also not alone.

Why am I so blessed?

I am So in Love.

I love his little fingers and toes.

I love his alertness when he's awake.

I love the funny little sounds and faces he makes when he's asleep.

I love his soft warm head on my chest.

I love his "pooping" face, and how he has to hold onto something really tightly while doing his business.

I love the fact that he almost never spits up.

I love how when he's hungry, he tries eating anything that gets close to his mouth, and is quite ravenous about it.

I love feeling his strong yet peaceful spirit.

How could I not be absolutely in love?

His older brothers love him, and are so sweet around him.  

I mean, all my babies are beautiful...  but this one is especially beautiful because he's so good.  Honestly, couldn't ask for a more mild and peaceful baby.  

It may not always be this way, but right now, this is what I need. 

Welcome little one.

You have a family that loves you.

Baby #3, Part One: Labor and Delivery Story.

This post has been deleted by it's author. (Me)  


I decided that I for one don't really want to remember all this, unless I am ever in need of some birth control or something.  And after just the first comment, I realize that it probably isn't the most inspiring thing for others to read --especially if they want to have children.  If you are really curious about the nitty gritty details, just email me for the whole story.


That said, I do have a few things to say.  


1. Epidurals are great.


2. Miracles do happen. And they happen nearly every day in maternity wards. (Oh, and miracle of miracles, I passed the stone without even knowing it right after the baby was born!)


3. I am so grateful for modern medicine.


4. Yes, it is worth it.

Oh Baby, Here We Go!

So, I'm not going to write much, since I should be getting as much sleep as possible, but I thought I'd mention that I'm going in for an induction tomorrow.  Eeeek!


I hate to rush him, but at the same time I'm measuring big, the first ultrasound put my due date around this time --even though calendarwise it worked out to be two weeks later (they say that the first ultrasound is more accurate than the traditional 'first day of your last period' thing though), and I really feel like he wants out.  He is such a strong little thing.  


Is it selfish of me to want the pain to go away and to have three weeks instead of two before we move?  I actually feel okay about my decision, I just wish I could get a little more prepared but the pain prevents it.  Oh well, I guess my shower doesn't absolutely have to be scrubbed before this baby comes does it? All week I've hardly been able to walk.  


One tender mercy though was that I was able to go shopping this morning to make sure there was food in my house so that my family wouldn't starve, and I even felt good enough to cut everyone's hair --which won't happen again for a long time.  I also managed to get all the laundry done yesterday.  Maybe the baby was going to come tomorrow anyway, and this is the fabled burst of energy before you go into labor people talk about.  Or... it could be that Vicadin works better than Percocet for me.   Either way, I feel a little better about things, and I'm way more calm knowing that I'm not going to have to worry about all those scenarios I talked about in an earlier post.  I know where my husband will be, and I have people set up to come take care of the kids and such for the next couple of days.  Yay!  And did I mention that I'll get the stone and the stent out and have one more week to recover before we move?

Maybe it's a little silly, but I actually wanted the baby to come in August, simply because there are so many July birthdays in the family, and no August birthdays on my side of the family at all.  Oh well.

I do feel that this is the right decision for us at this time, and although having a baby isn't easy (and I don't just mean the labor part --I actually despise the first few weeks of sleeplessness and being sore and engorged and such) I have faith that everything will work out fine.  


I am excited to meet little whatever-his-name-is (gee, we better start really thinking about that) and to hold him in my arms; to recognize his movements that I've felt inside for the past few months (which were very spastic), and to see his spirit struggle in a much smaller body than it was made for as he realizes that he had no idea what he was getting in to when he decided to enter mortality.  


No wonder they cry, and yet, there's such a feeling of hope, and endless possibilities, and determination to succeed that emanates from them.  


I also anticipate the pure helplessness of his state, and the absolute dependency he will have on me, accompanied by the realization of the significance of the responsibility and trust that has been given me. Still, I can't wait to feel his warm fuzzy head on my chest, and see that celestial little glow in his eyes, like he wants to tell me something he can't about heaven, and help me feel and understand the love our Heavenly Father has for us.  


Babies are such miracles, and though childbirth is one of the most natural, basic, animal experiences, it is also very transcendent and holy.  


Yeah, I'm ready for this.


Wish me luck, and thank you for all your sweet prayers on our behalf.  

Doesn't get much bigger than this!
Yeah, can't wait to post cute baby pictures instead of miserable preggo pictures.

Happy Thoughts

I've been feeling a little down lately, so last night when I couldn't sleep, I decided to think up a list of things that make me happy.  I thought of a lot of things, many of them universal to most people by virtue of the thing (i.e. service, homemade bread, sunsets, etc), but I decided I would share a short list of some of the more original ones I came up with.  Here's a weirdly random sample of things that for some reason or another make me happy, give me pleasure, thrill me, help me feel contented and grateful, make me smile, and generally lift my spirits... in a very personal and quirky sort of way of course.




Finishing off the milk in the bottom of a bowl of sugary cereal, and then adding fresh, ice-cold milk to the bowl to wash it down.


The sensation of a cat rubbing up against my newly shaven legs.


The smell of Chlorine.


Mud squishing between my toes.


The cool underside of my pillow on a hot night.


The color of fresh blueberry juice... and sprinkling dishwasher detergent on the spills to make it turn green, just for fun.


The word Periwinkle.


Bare feet on a warm sidewalk after dark.


Breaking ice bubbles on frozen puddles.


Cedarwood smoke in the fall.

Pulling rocks out of the tread on shoes or tires.

Moonlight.

Pine-scented breezes.


75 degree weather.


Silky pajamas.

Brand-new baby smell.

Okay, so some of those may be more universal than I give credit, but I had to add them because I like to think I enjoy them in a keenly personal way.  There's more where that came from, and perhaps I'll add to my list from time to time.


I wish this post was more visually appealing.


I'll add some of the cooler photos I've taken over the past few years.

$5 Chair

When my husband and I were first married, we were at the DI and saw this fantastically ugly pink chair for only $5.  As a joke, I sat down in it, and was actually amazed at how comfortable it was.  Since we were short on furniture in our tiny apartment, I talked him into buying it.  After all, it was only $5, and we could get rid of it at any time --like when we moved to a better place and got real furniture (Ha!), or I could possibly re-cover it.


Well, the chair stayed.  I discovered right after I had my first baby and the subsequent healing that went with third degree tearing (I know,TMI --sorry), that it was the only chair in the house soft enough for me to sit in (in fact I would tote the cushion around with me wherever I went in the house), and it also turned out to be the perfect height and shape for nursing in.  I actually tried replacing it, but no other chair would do.  So with every one of our 11 moves it has come with us.  I still hated the color, but really had no idea how to reupholster things.  The shape especially intimidated me.

BEFORE.   I forgot to take a 'before' picture until after the cushion had been covered.

For more than four years it has been an eyesore and the kids have added to it's colorful character via crayons and pens, (I think it also still had spit-up stains from both babies too) but alas, no more!  My lovely sister came and pretty much reupholstered it all by herself for me!  All I did was pick out the fabric (which I also needed guidance with, so my wonderful sister-in-law took me where I needed to go and pretty much held my hand the whole way.  I'm so helpless).  It's nothing fancy, just functional ...and not pink!  Yay!  So now, technically it's a $20 chair, adding just what the fabric cost, but it's worth much more to me, and will forever be a symbol of the kind and charitable acts of loving sisters.  Isn't it so much better?

AFTER. (With flash)

(With natural light.) It's actually a lot darker green in real life. These pictures do not do it justice.

A Pain in the... Side?

So, of all those pregnancy fears, I never thought of one scenario that played out this weekend.  It doesn't involve labor and delivery though, in case you were getting excited.  We still had a middle of the night emergency, and I still ended up going to the E.R. and my husband still had to get work off for two days, but no, there's no baby to show for it.


Saturday, I woke up with a suspicious pain in my right side, more in the back.  I was pretty sure, it wasn't my appendix, and I vaguely remembered having a similar pain when I had kidney stone pains during my second pregnancy (never passed, just went away on its own), but it wasn't too bad, and I hoped I had just slept funny and my back was kinked or something --which is likely, since we sleep on a futon mattress in the middle of our living room floor these days.


Luckily, it mostly went away, and I had a very productive day.  I have to admit, I still suspected something was up, so I figured I should make the most of feeling well.  I cleaned the house, my sister even came over and helped me reupholster our ugly pink chair (pictures will be coming soon), and we took the kids to the swimming pool that night.  I figured that floating in warm water would make whatever back muscles that were bothering me relax, but by the time we got out of there, I was done.  I made a few calls, to see what my options were if I happened to have a kidney stone and the pain got unbearable, but I really hoped it would just go away.


Long story short, at about 3:00 in the morning, I decided that we needed to go to the hospital.  I really didn't want to, especially since that meant getting the kids up and dragging them out in the middle of the night, which made me feel so guilty, but I couldn't handle it anymore. The kids did great, and though they looked like little zombies, they never went back to sleep.  My husband stayed in the car with them while I checked myself in, and when I was settled, he took them back home.


It was a long day.  I was put on an IV for  pain medication.  The morphine they gave me, took a bit of the edge off, but I was still in pain.  They tried Demerol, which just made me feel really loopy, but didn't change the pain that much.  I was so tired too, that combined, I was talking like a drunk person and could barely keep my eyes from going cross-eyed. Still, I couldn't sleep for the pain.


They finally did an ultrasound --which was actually quite painful since she had to really dig down to follow my ureter-- and lo and behold they found a 7 MILLIMETER KIDNEY STONE!


I felt suddenly validated.


All my fears that I was just being a baby over nothing vanished.  I did have a good reason to be there, to wake my kids up in the middle of the night, and I was actually proud of how long I had lasted.  Now I just hoped I hadn't done too much damage by being stubborn and waiting so long.


The OB on call was the midwife from my clinic, and she had hopes that I could pass it with enough fluids, and that if they could manage the pain through oral meds, I could go home.  If I couldn't pass it on my own, the best they could do for a pregnant woman would be to put in a stent until after the baby is born and then remove the stone later.


Well, for some reason, I started to feel better, and they gave me oral Vicadin (sp?) to see if that could control the pain so I could go home.  (As I mentioned though, I was already feeling better before the meds, but they decided to think of it as their success anyway --I wasn't convinced.) My husband and a friend came to give me a priesthood blessing, and although I was really hoping to hear the words that I could pass it on my own and be free of pain, I'm afraid that's not what was in store for me.  It was more a blessing of comfort, and that we would find out more about how to deal with this problem and be able to make the best decisions concerning it.  So much for what I knew.  I'm glad to know that God understands things better.  Read on.


 I stayed overnight, so they could keep an eye on me and the baby, and in the morning, I was feeling pretty good, so they let me go with a prescription for Percocet for the pain, and some stool softener (to fix the problem that all these painkillers were causing).  Since it had been Sunday, I hadn't been able to talk to the Urologist, but they told me to go home and set up and appointment with him for that same day and they would fax my info to his office for him to assess.


A few hours later, I got an urgent call from the urologist who had just gotten my ultrasound and other info.  First, he asked why they ever let me leave the E.R., then he said that he wanted me back there to meet him in the O.R. so they could put the stent in immediately.  Apparently whoever read the ultrasound before didn't realize that a 7mm stone would never budge on its own, and that the ureter from my right kidney was completely blocked, which if left untreated would cause the kidney to become infected, or eventually shut down altogether.  I asked why I wasn't feeling any pain even though I hadn't taken any medication since early that morning, and he replied that that was actually a bad sign --that my kidney was most likely becoming numb, which is a precursor to shutting down.  Ack!  (By the way, I'm really not blaming my OB doctors for anything, they did their best.)


So, we went back.  Pre-op had a really hard time finding a vein for my IV--especially one that hadn't already been poked recently, and I was beginning to feel like a human pincushion.  The biggest concern was that the procedure would cause me to go into labor, and another major concern was that because I had eaten too recently (since it was sort of short notice), the anesthesia would cause me to choke or aspirate something, or stop breathing, etc. so, I wasn't put all the way out.  I was merely made numb from the rib cage down.  Because I'm pregnant, I wasn't given any kind of sedation, nor was I given whatever they give you to forget the whole thing --which always weirded me out anyway.  I was completely conscious and aware for the most part. Of course, I couldn't move or feel a thing --which was good, but also really, really unnerving.  I have to admit, when the anesthesiologist gave me the shot of Lidocaine, he hit something that sent a painful shock through my leg, it felt like getting struck by lightning.  That sent me over the top, and after after being tough for so long, all barriers broke down, and I started crying.  I couldn't stop really, and it was kind of embarrassing since it didn't hurt but for a moment.  It was just the shock of it all, and of course, I was exhausted, and then all my worries about whether the baby was okay and such came to mind, and I just couldn't stop crying.  The sensation of being completely helpless and numb didn't help things, and then I started having a hard time breathing.  I was on my back, so this big ole' baby and uterus was sitting on my lungs, but only half of my lung muscles were in operation.  It took all my concentration just to make sure that I wasn't going to stop breathing.  At least, that's how it felt to me.  I guess in a way it was good, because it distracted me enough to stop crying, and to ignore whatever else was going on beyond that big belly of mine.


It was actually a very quick procedure, and they had me out of there sooner than I expected.  It took a while for the numbness to wear off, and I have to say I have just a little more empathy for paraplegics.  The weirdest sensation was to feel my belly, and have the baby kick my hand, but not be able to feel it from the inside too.  I guess that's what everyone feels when they ask to feel the baby kicking, but to me, it was so detached and foreign that it really fascinated me in an unsettling kind of way.  I admit it was a relief to feel him moving in there though.


They kept me overnight again, to make sure that I didn't go into labor, keeping me hooked up to all sorts of monitors and having me sleep in a bed that was made for labor and delivery --not for sleeping in.  Needless to say, it was a long night.  The nurse offered me Ambien to help me sleep, but I don't think it would have helped considering all the times I had to get up to go pee since I am pregnant, and pushing the fluids, and had been on IV's for two days straight.  Ugh.


In the morning, I was feeling very little pain (except for a throbbing headache, and being sore and achy from having to sleep on my back, half sitting up, in that horrible bed), and they said I could go home anytime.  However, the thought of going home to sleep on a futon in the middle of our living room didn't seem very restful to me, so I asked if I could just stay there and sleep for a few more hours without any monitors or IVs or anyone even bothering me for my vitals.  They were very understanding, and said that I could stay as long as I wanted, and that they would even keep room service from bothering me.  They unhooked me from everything (I was so happy to get away from those itchy belts!) and I was able to roll over and go to sleep!  --Of course, after I had a hearty breakfast.  I finally came home after getting a few hours of sleep and another good meal (that I didn't have to cook, which always makes things taste better.  Although, I have to say, that the food there was really good.  If I hadn't been in so much pain, and if I hadn't had a huge baby taking up all the room in my stomach I probably would have enjoyed it even more.  Honestly though, the cheesecake was divine, and I viewed it as a small consolation for all that I had been through in the past few days.  I also had to laugh when I saw that I could order a Buffalo Burger from the menu.  Only in Wyoming...)


The kids had been a little thrown off by the whole thing, and though my husband did a wonderful job of taking care of them and the house, I could tell that everyone was glad that I was home.  So was I.


I'm still not out of the woods yet.  I've still got some pain, which could be from any number of reasons, and the stone still has to come out at some point.  I hope it doesn't cause any extra pain or complications during childbirth, (as if I needed any more scenarios to worry about) but the plan is to use lithotripsy to break up the stone into tiny pieces using shockwaves, right after the baby is born --like while I'm still in the delivery room, and hopefully that will be the end of it.


So that's my kidney stone saga, and all I can do is pray that everything will come to a quick and positive conclusion.

The Waiting Game

Who needs a preggo picture of me when my youngest can imitate me just fine?

About this time in all my pregnancies, I start freaking myself out about possible scenarios that could arise when I actually go into labor.  


With my first, I was not only on bed rest, but my husband was having to work a summer job nearly 2 hours away during the week and only able to come home on weekends.  Luckily, I had my in-laws nearby to take care of me, but still...  I just knew I was going to go into labor in the middle of the night --a stormy night no less-- where he'd have to drive over a treacherous pass and possibly die, or else I would have the baby when he was working out of cell phone range and he'd miss the whole thing... and of course my mind came up with many other such scenarios.  As it was, his car broke down on one occasion, and my refrigerator died that same day (and they kept telling me to not stress myself out. Ha!) But things got fixed, and as far as the labor and delivery went... I ended up going a week over and got induced, so there were no surprises there.  


With my second, I worried about how my toddler would handle things, and although we had family around to take care of him, I remember writing up a huge and very detailed schedule --to keep things routine and predictable, of course-- and list of meal options that I knew he would eat so he wouldn't starve.  (I'm really not a control freak.  In fact it makes me laugh to look at how anal that list was.)  In addition to worrying about that transition (which in the end was probably harder for me than anyone else) I also worried that the baby would come when my husband was teaching his first day of class (which was scheduled the same day as my due date) and make things complicated.  However, everything worked out perfectly.  I woke up on a beautiful Sunday --the day before my due date-- at about 4 in the morning with regular contractions, called my husband's parents by five, had time to pack my hospital bag (I know, shame on me for putting it off) and take a quick shower --I even shaved my legs, and left the house by 6:30 with the in-laws perfectly capable of taking care of my son (who, though a little confused, was really delighted to see them, and for weeks afterward kept hoping they would be there when he woke up).  And, I should mention that though the schedule was lost, he didn't die from missing a nap or a snack, or eating nothing but sweets all day (I'm exaggerating here, I have no idea what he ate, but in the end it didn't matter). The baby was born by 3 in the afternoon, and my husband was able to go back home and put our toddler to bed (which was the part of his schedule I worried about most) and teach his classes the next morning just fine.


So now with number three, do I have worries?  With less than three weeks to go, you bet I do! I still worry about going into labor when my husband is working out of cell phone range and having to drive myself and the kids to the hospital or something, or having him around but ending up giving birth in the back of our minivan because we don't live two minutes from the hospital like we always did before... I have lots more where that came from, but in addition to labor and delivery fears, did I mention that we're supposed to move to a different state less than two weeks after my due date and I haven't found a place to live yet...?  Yikes!


Really, I should take comfort in how the Lord has taken care of us in the past.   Deep down, I know that things will work out --and even if they don't, they'll still work out.  That's actually my husband's motto, and although it annoyed me at first, it's always rung true, reminding me that although things may not go as ideally as we plan, God is in charge and whatever He chooses to put us through will either turn out better than we had imagined, or at least be for our good.