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Sunday, June 12, 2011

Pity Party

Wow. Don't you just love it when you're so convicted of how selfish you are? Ha ha! That's always a fun place to be. NOT! That's happened not once, but TWICE today. Probably should have happened more, but I'll tell you about the two things that stand out in my mind.

Today I'm 39 weeks, 6 days pregnant with my sweet baby boy, Walker. The wait has seemed to fly by, but then again, drag. Especially toward the end. Anyone who knows me, know how much I LOATHE summertime. I HATE heat. I hate humidity. I hate sweating and being remotely warm (anything over 72 is remotely warm to me), and that sick feeling of a huge cold chill you get when you get inside your hot car before the a/c begins to cool it off. Ewww... I don't want to even leave the house. So, I've been having a little pity party for myself the last few days. I'm not in labor, but have that yucky, crampy, before-you-go-into-labor-blech feeling and have the last three days. Now with Coleman, I was a full 2 weeks "post dates." He baked FOREVER. He loved his happy little warm jungle and had no desire to come out. I'm praying that Walker doesn't take after his brother. So today, I took my tired, achy hips and went to Target to pick up a few things I needed. I waddled around Target, subconsciously feeling sorry for myself. Poor me. I'm STILL pregnant (even though I'm not even DUE yet). Poor me. I'm tired. Poor me. I'm broke. POOR, POOR ME! If I only had money, and I was thin and had a newborn, I'd be happy. Ha ha ha! Yeah, that's kinda how it was going in my pathetic head.

So, I get the things I need and go get in my grossly hot car and get that sick feeling of a huge cold chill because the car is SO stinkin' hot and I back out of my spot. Then I see a taxi cab at the front of the store. Out steps a golden retriever, and her blind owner. A young woman, completely dependent on this dog and cab driver to get her to Target safely. WOW. Can you say "SLAP IN THE FACE?" Tears of conviction immediately began streaming down my face. How could I be so selfish? All the while, I'm whining about POOR ME, and here is this woman who can't even see. How does she pick out what she needs from the store? When she got out of the car, holding the leash, she had to immediately grab his harness to guide her. What a lesson I needed from this. I think I often want to just hold God's leash and trail aimlessly behind Him and try to be content with that. Oh sure, I can mostly get around without falling too many times in an hour, but what if I grabbed the harness? What if I really grabbed His hand and asked Him to lead me like I need to be led? I'm so pathetic and hopeless on my own. If I'm just hanging on to the leash, there's a good chance I'll run into a wall or trip and fall. It was a really stark reminder of how good I really have it. I have my own car so I can drive myself to the store, pretty much whenever I want. I can pick out whatever I need by LOOKING at it. Wow. The things I take for granted. I'm about to have a BABY! One of life's very greatest gifts. Yes, labor is going to be hard, yes, there are points where it's REALLY, REALLY intense and hard, but the joy it brings in the end is worth Every. Single. Moment.

So, I tried to happy up and change my attitude and went to another store, looking for a Father's Day gift for Mark. My hope is that I'll go into labor this week and be unable to shop so I wanted to find something today. I left the store after not getting anything because I couldn't make a decision, (and I'm broke and if I couldn't get what I really wanted why bother and it's hot AND I'm the size of a house AND.....) got into that STINKIN' hot car again. Still feeling like I was in a bit of a funk.

When I got home I started working on getting some things done and shared my story with Mark. Then I decided to read a friend's blog. They are having a baby next Tuesday, via cesarean. Their baby is facing some really big health problems, so she needs to come a little early and she'll be scheduled for surgery as soon as she's able. That started the whole flood of tears again. HOW selfish of me to dread labor when we're anticipating a perfectly healthy baby! WHAT is wrong with me? I guess I'm just human, but I felt so bad about my perpetual whininess the last few days. How dare I dread the very thing that's going to bring me the greatest joy?

I know lots of friends are praying for me, and I'm asking you to pray specifically for some things. First, that Walker's birth would be a smooth labor and delivery, at HOME. We're specifically praying we won't have to transfer to the hospital this time. That I'll go into labor soon and not have to make another trip to Tulsa to see the midwife. It's a long trip and not cheap with gas prices so high, so if we can avoid it, it would make all of us very happy! If you can pray for Coleman, and the transition for him too. He's already been particularly challenging the last couple of weeks, and I know adding a new baby to the family is going to make it harder. We need the strength and grace to be consistent with him, even though we'll be sleep deprived.
Also, please pray for our friends as they go through this really, really challenging time with their new baby. Pray for a safe and smooth delivery. Pray for a safe surgery and miraculous outcome for their baby girl. Pray for peace and strength for her mom especially. I know how hard it is to sit in a hospital bed with empty arms, longing for your baby. It hurts. Bad. She needs extra strength and grace only God can give her. They also have a little boy Coleman's age who I know could use lots of prayers too.

So for now, we're patiently trying to wait...

Oh, and for all my friends who want to know "WHEN" I'm going into labor, how dilated I am, etc. etc. etc...Anytime in the next two weeks. If I'm still pregnant in two weeks, we'll have those discussions with our midwife then. We were supposed to go to Tulsa today for an appointment, but she told us we were ok to wait. Not sure when our next appointment will be, but I'm praying we don't have to go back and I'll just go into labor before then. My weight, growth, blood pressure etc. are all right on track. Walker is a feisty little guy who moves a lot! Not traveling today was probably a much better choice since I could be home and eat well and drink a lot instead of grabbing fast food in the drive through and not getting enough water since I'd be in the car and not wanting to stop every 20 minutes!

When you go to a homebirth midwife, they don't do cervical checks, so I don't know how dilated I am. It doesn't matter! Until I'm a 10, I can't push him out. : ) Dilation is no indication of when you'll go into labor. Checks DO put you at risk of infection though, and that's why they don't do them.

So, he'll be here in God's perfect timing, and trust me, you'll all be the first to know! ; ) I know everyone is anxiously awaiting his arrival, although no one as much as me! lol! A watched pot doesn't boil. Ha ha ha!

Ecclesiastes 3:11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Oops!

I've let a month slide by since I've last blogged. Sorry. :) Things have been VERY busy around here the last few weeks, and I've been so tired, I haven't felt the energy to sit down and talk about it.

So, in the last month, Coleman had a birthday, Mark's had to work late a couple of times, I had two photo shoots, my hard drive had major issues and caused me all kinds of grief, my parents moved from my childhood home where they've been the last 34 years, to Newcastle, Mother's Day, I had an appointment with the endocrinologist, Mark preached a revival in Henryetta for 5 days, Mark's birthday and our 4th anniversary and our home visit from our midwife. See why I haven't had time to blog? :) I'll try to add more about all those events in the next few days.

37 weeks and waiting!

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

The Birth Story of Coleman James

I want to preface my birth story with the fact that even though you have a midwife, and even though that midwifery has delivered babies for people you know, including your best friend, doesn't mean they are the right fit for you! If nothing else, I hope my story inspires other moms to really research their midwives or care providers (I THOUGHT I had, but as with everything in life, there's always more to learn). I also apologize that it's so long. This story takes place over a week's time! And now, on with the story...

Friday, April 24th, 2009, Yvonne, one of the midwives from our midwifery came over to try to induce my labor. I was 41 weeks 4 days according to an ultra sound guess date we had done at 6 weeks. I had major thyroid problems while trying to conceive and I was going 60-70 days between cycles, so we had NO clue when we'd made a baby! I drank lots of nasty herbal tea, used the breast pump, took homeopathic blue & black cohosh and she stripped my membranes every hour. It was a really long day. I had a few contractions, but nothing worth writing home about. She left around six and I tried so hard not to be disappointed. It was so hard though. I so wanted to have him because we had an appointment with the backup OB at 11:15 Monday morning for an ultrasound and a consultation with him. I had heard great things about Dr. Ryan, but I still DID NOT want a hospital birth! (The midwifery's policy was at 42 weeks you were transfered to the OB for a consult and he would determine if I was "allowed" to go a few more days or if if they would admit me and induce.)

Friday night, I had contractions off and on all night that were pretty strong. I woke my husband, Mark up about 5:00 in the morning and asked him to come in there and lay down with me because I didn’t want to be awake and by myself. (Mark had been sleeping in the spare room for at least the last 6 weeks of my pregnancy because his snoring was so bad it kept me awake & I was so big, I took up the entire queen bed with all my pillows!) I knew I wasn’t in labor, but I was bored in there alone. All day Saturday went by, and no contractions. I got sick of waiting and we went to Lowe’s to walk around & buy some things to get our bathroom finished up. Saturday afternoon, I went back to Lowe’s and bought 5 bags of cedar mulch for the front flower bed. Mark helped me and we put the black plastic down to keep the weeds out & moved the pavers back where they should be. I decided the time on my hands and knees was good for keeping the baby in the position he needed to be in and I thought surely if I was exhausted and sun burnt, I’d go into labor.

Saturday night, same story. I had contractions all night that were strong enough to keep me up most of the night. I took a shower and that helped me be able to relax enough to go back to bed. Finally, at 5:00am Sunday morning, I woke Mark up again because I didn’t want to lay in there by myself anymore.

We laid in bed together and watched the Memorial Marathon and then he got up and made me a yummy omelet for breakfast. Then we fell asleep and didn’t get up until 11:00. We went to Super Target in Norman to pick up a few groceries and bought Coleman a sock monkey! When we got home, I was SO tired. Mark carried everything in and put it up while I laid down for a while. Later that evening, we tried to go for a walk. We got two houses down and I had to come home because I didn’t feel up for the walk. I talked to Piper on the phone (my labor coach/doula) and she said I sounded terrible. I remember thinking that I thought I could really being going into labor for real because I didn’t feel good. I had a couple of very mild contractions about 8:30, but I went to bed. By 2:30 in the morning, my contractions were hard enough to get me out of bed. I took a shower looking for relief, but I didn’t get much. When I got out of the shower, I couldn’t lay back down in bed. I sat on the birth ball and leaned on a couple of pillows on the bed to try to get more rest. By 3:30, I started timing the contractions. They were about 30 seconds long and 3 minutes apart. I still didn’t think I was in labor. By 4:15, I couldn’t handle them by myself anymore. I didn’t want to wake Mark up because he was supposed to go to work Monday morning before the ultrasound. The last two nights, the contractions had stopped at 5:00am, so I tried to hold out, but I couldn’t. I woke him up about 4:15. He got up and got dressed. I guess he thought this was the real deal, because the last two mornings, he hadn’t gotten dressed. Ha ha! He put counter pressure on my back every time I had a contraction. I taught him how to time them and tried to relax. By 5:15, it suddenly hit me that this was it. The real deal. I had him call Piper (my doula) and then mom to come get Riley, our schnauzer. (He barks like an idiot every time someone comes over, so I knew I didn't want him there.)

Poor Mark. I really had to have counter pressure to handle the contractions and I also desperately wanted him to get the pool started and filled up. He would come in and put pressure on my back and then as soon as the contraction was over, he would run to the kitchen to clean off the table and then he would hear me start to moan and come running back. By that time, my contractions were lasting 60 seconds and were 2-3 min apart. He didn’t have much time in between to get the pool up! I remember him helping me to the bathroom and having a contraction while I was sitting on the toilet. It was so intense I threw up three times.

I guess at some point I’d ask him to call my best friend, Shawna. I don’t remember that at all. I was SO relieved when Piper got there. I still felt really woozy and asked for something to throw up in. Piper had a hot pack that she put on my lower back with the counter pressure that helped SO much. When she left to microwave it again, I had no counter pressure or hot pack when a contraction hit and threw up again. I heard Shawna come in and help Mark start filling up the pool. I kept asking if it was ready or not. I remember Mark coming in the bedroom to check on me. I asked if the pool was up and when he said no, I said “well get in there & get it up!” Poor Mark! When I re-read this, it sounds kind of horrible, but it really wasn’t. The contractions were intense, but still manageable at that point. I remember Piper asking if we had called the midwife yet. I was thinking, “No, I don’t know how far apart my contractions are! I was thinking someone else was keeping track of that for me.” I think I said for Mark to call her. Looking back now, I know Piper thought I was pretty close to delivering him & she didn't want to be the person to have to do it! lol!

When Mark came back in the room, I remember hearing him say that Michelle was coming. I remember saying “WHAT? It’s supposed to be Yvonne!” Yvonne was on call, but apparently they had attended several births the last few days and they were exhausted, so Michelle was coming. I liked all the midwives, but Michelle had not been my favorite & I was thinking it was Yvonne since she was on call and she had been there all day with me Friday trying to induce. Mark reminded me that we had prayed about who the midwife would be and that God knew what He was doing. (Thanks for convicting me during labor honey.)

All this time, Mark had been in the dining room trying to set up the birth pool. We had the 6’ folding table up from the big cook day so he had to clean that off first & take it down. Then he swept & mopped the floor. Then lay down the waterproof cloth & quilt before he could inflate the pool. He was so flustered he inflated the sides first & then realized he needed to do the floor and seat so he had to deflate the sides and start over! ACK!

When the pool was half full, I practically ran in there between contractions. The water was NOT warm enough and I started to panic. I needed warmer water! The hot water tank was drained at that point and cold water had started coming through the hose so we got that pulled out and they were boiling water on the stove to add to the pool. I wanted to get hot water from the neighbor’s tank to get it faster! Ha ha ha! I remember at one point during the day the smoke detector going off because of the stove top being on so hot boiling all that water. Oh….that made my head HURT! : )

Michelle got there 15 minutes or so after I got in the pool. I was throwing up again when she got here. She told me that I was throwing up because of the way I was breathing and showed me how to breathe to calm down some. When she checked me at 8:00am, I was only a 3. (Again, looking back, I think I freaked that she was the one coming and went backward. I think if it had been Yvonne, I would have been close to pushing already) I was SO disappointed because Yvonne had stretched me to a 5 on Friday, but I hadn’t had enough contractions to stay there. Still, I was at least hoping for a 4! I had been in hard labor for over 5 hours! She left to go to the health food store to get some things and Mark turned on the hypnobirthing CD to help me relax. Once I realized that I could never get the water hot enough to totally relieve the pain, I had to use it to hold me up and relax, it made a huge difference. I remember Shawna being behind my head when I was lying down in the pool with the seat supporting my back. She told me to ride the contractions like a wave. Sink down into the water instead of pulling myself up out of the water. I finally got into a groove and let the hypnobirthing run through my mind. I wasn’t even consciously listening to it, but it was making a huge difference. I kept asking for cool washcloths for my head & chest. It took all the concentration I had to just say “rag.” Ha ha!

Piper sat by my head the entire day, cooling me off with wash cloths for my face and chest. I got out a couple of times to use the bathroom and I took a shower, but I didn’t think the shower was enough help for the contractions at that point and wanted back in the pool. I remember Shawna feeding me frozen grapes and cheese cubes. I could never finish the entire bite before another contraction would hit and I would sit there with a half eaten grape in my mouth waiting for the contraction to pass! Gross! At some point I remember hearing the distinct sound of “Pshhhh…” A can of Dr. Pepper being cracked open as I started a contraction. I remember thinking, “That dirty dog is having a Dr. Pepper and there is no way I can drink one right now. He’s going to pay for that!” HA HA HA! Shawna gave Mark a dirty look and he said his thought was, he was waiting for a contraction to start so that my moaning would drown out the sound of the can opening. Geee….and he wonders why I wanted a doula to help me through labor! HA HA! I love my crazy husband! :) He WAS helpful & was in there all day with me, updating Facebook so my family would know what was going on & being my disk jockey! :)

Michelle checked me again three hours later. It was 11:00am. I was between a 5 and 6! Yeah! Progress! Shawna and Mark later told me that she thought my labor had stopped because she couldn’t tell I was still having contractions. Yeah for hypnobirthing!

I changed positions a few times in the pool, but hated it every time. I really didn’t want to move at all. The pressure was really intense and moving made it almost unbearable.

I rolled over to my stomach in the pool and used my arms to help hold myself off the bottom of the pool. I remembered thinking at that point I must be going through transition. The contractions were getting much closer together. I was thinking, “Wow. I’m doing this! I’m going through transition and its okay!”

Michelle checked me again at 2:00 pm and I was a 9. I was going to see my baby by the end of the day!

I moved to my back again and sometimes I would breathe REALLY loud so that Piper knew it hurt! That was the only point where I thought it really was painful when I was going from a 9 to a 10. WOW. Such PRESSURE! Sometimes I would breathe just like normal during a really intense contraction and I would just tell Piper that was really intense. I remember her saying “Really?” because she couldn’t even tell I was having a contraction. The hypnobirthing was really helping a lot!

Michelle said that she thought the pool was too big and that I needed to get out to push. I was really disappointed at hearing that because I really, really wanted a water birth. After talking to Mark, she finally agreed to let me try to push in the pool if he got in and sat behind me to hold me out of the water while I pushed. We tried it a few times, but she decided we needed to move to the bedroom. I got out of the pool and Shawna helped me take my tank top off. I apologized for being naked in front of her. It’s so true when you are in labor, you loose all modesty. I was too tired and too far into labor to care at that point. It was 3:00pm. (Once again, looking back I wish I had been capable of throwing a fit at this point and refusing to get out of the pool. We knew he was a big baby and I was terrified to get out of the pool because of how much worse the pain was. I couldn't communicate at that point of labor though.)


I moved to the bed and pushed for an hour. I had NO idea that pushing was going to be so much work. No one really prepares you for that. I guess because it’s different for everyone and when you try to push out a toddler, that’s just not easy! It was SO, SO hot and I got stopped up from lying on my back. It was the worst panic feeling I think I've ever experienced. Mark & Piper had to push my knees up to my shoulders. Ouch. It was really miserable and I remembered thinking that the pushing part really stunk! At some point, my my doula asked the midwife why I was having to push on my back and she snapped at her that she had me in that position for a reason. As I researched it later, I learned it was the "McRoberts" position. Known for helping a large baby get through the pelvis more easily if shoulder dystocia is suspected. I can understand this if I had been allowed to push in the pool longer or squat while pushing, use the toilet or birth stool, but she went straight to this position with no explanation. I knew pushing on my back was the least effective way, but I couldn't talk at all while pushing. It was a horrible feeling being trapped in my own body like that.

After pushing for an hour, she decided to let me rest through a few contractions. I was wondering if something was wrong. Not because I had pushed that long, because I knew that was totally normal, especially for a first time mom, but I soon found out. When Michelle came back in, and I started pushing again, we got thick, dark meconium. I remember her showing me a greenish looking paper towel & saying “See this? This is your amniotic fluid. We’ve got to go to the hospital now.” I was totally calm about it and said, “Okay, let’s go.” Michelle went to go call Dr. Ryan and let him know we were on our way. Shawna found me pants & a t-shirt to put on. I kept asking who was going to drive me. I knew I didn’t think it was a good idea for Mark to because I knew I was going to be moaning really loud and I was afraid he couldn’t concentrate to drive with that!

Piper agreed to take me in her vehicle. She had two car seats in though so I had to sit in the front. I asked someone to get me a towel or something to sit on because she had nice tan leather seats! Ha ha! Shawna grabbed me a blue pad & helped me to the car. I was barefoot, no bra or undies. Ghetto, wet hair from being in the pool all day and blood shot eyes from pushing so hard. I was a sight to behold! SCARY!

I remember closing my eyes when I got in the car. The seat was of course upright & I started hollering for Shawna to lean it back. Piper has a nice GMC Yukon with electric seats. The seat went the wrong way & I started hollering! Looking back now it was funny. Then it was NOT funny! I told Piper to just get me there, that I would pay the ticket if I had to. She later told me she was hoping to get pulled over so we could get a police escort. Ha ha! I felt every last bump on the lovely I-40 cross town bridge. Still makes me a little sick to drive across it now. We got almost every light red downtown, headed to St. Anthony, or, there was someone in front of us. She was able to run one light. When we got to Joyful Beginnings (ha ha ha! Nice name. I was NOT feeling joyful at this point), she left the truck running and went to get me a wheelchair. It was VERY small. I’m a big girl and when you are that pregnant with a baby’s head coming out, it really hurts to have your hips squished into a wheelchair. I remember her pushing me past a little boy that was probably 4 or 5. I smiled at him because I knew I looked really scary and tried to stifle a moan from another contraction. I didn’t think it was really fair to scare the dickens out of him! They buzzed us in, but there was no receptionist and we didn’t know where to go. I remember Piper running around the corner looking for someone and me hollering “Somebody please help us!” Thankfully they had sent a nurse down there to get me. She took me and Piper went to park the truck.

When I realized she was running down the hall with me, I started to get a little worried and realized how serious it was. Just past the nurse’s station, I saw Mark. Keep in mind, when we left the house, he was waving goodbye from the driveway, with my flip flops in hand, crying. The Trailblazer was still in the garage. He managed to beat us there and park in a parking garage and get inside. I’m not going to ask how fast he drove. Seriously, all of the OKC police department must have been on a donut break at 4:30!

When they got me to the room they told me to stand up and change into a gown. I glared at the nurse and she told me I could wait until that contraction was over. Good plan!

I finally got in bed and they hooked up the fetal monitor to me. Ugh. I hated that, but I was glad that we could listen to Coleman to make sure he was ok. They started an IV, took blood, checked me SIX times (hello? I was complete. I’d already pushed for an hour!) I hated getting checked because it made the contractions SO much more intense. I was in a lot of pain by then. I was hollering for someone to PLEASE get me SOMETHING. ANYTHING! I was seriously regretting not asking Shawna to get the ipod for me so I would have had my hypnobirthing there with me. My poor dad had made it to the hospital by then and was outside my room and could hear me hollering.

Finally Dr. Ryan came in. He was wearing a black dress shirt and a tan sports coat. I clearly remember thinking that he should get out of those clothes quickly because it was about to get messy! Ha ha! He looked at me and in that stern, but comforting voice said, “Christy, I want to talk to you. This is not about how much pain you can handle. A vacuum extraction is not like a normal birth. But, I’m afraid if I give you an epidural, you won’t be able to help me push.” I remember looking at Michelle. I was so exhausted at this point. I finally had my “I don’t know if I can do this” moment. She assured me that he wouldn’t tell me he thought I could do it if I couldn’t. So, I said, ok, I’ll try. I breathed through about four contractions while he went to change clothes. It seemed like an eternity and I was asking what was taking so long!

The D.O. that was helping him started to put the vacuum on and I started hollering! He said “What’s wrong?” I was like Duh! It hurts! Ha ha!

The vacuum popped off his head and blood splattered everywhere. Mark started wiping my face with a washcloth and I though he was just trying to cool me off. Apparently, it was all over everyone in the room. Later that night while I was laying in my bed, I noticed blood all over the ceiling tile too. Gross.

I remember that the vacuum really moved him much further down. I felt his head come out and thought “That wasn’t much relief!” Dr. Ryan immediately began suctioning Coleman. I had another contraction and pushed his left shoulder out. Dr. Ryan said “I don’t like the way this looks.” NOT comforting words from whoever is delivering your baby. His second shoulder was stuck. (Shoulder dystocia) He had to reach in and pull him out. I remember screaming because that hurt really bad. I think that’s when I let a word fly too. Ooopsie. I was embarrassed that I said a bad word, especially since Shawna was there! She was very gracious about it and said it was ok, the oxygen mask had muffled it! He he he! It was 5:55pm.

I saw Dr. Ryan holding Coleman, still doubled in two. He was a sick gray color. I hating watching him cut the cord. Another part of my birth plan, down the tubes. I knew it was necessary, but I hated that Mark didn’t get to and it was still pulsing. I kept asking if he was okay. Finally, the third time I asked, he said he didn’t know. I laid there thinking that I had just gone through all that and I was probably going home without my baby. It was very terrifying and sobering.

He handed him off to the nurses who began working on him and then he started working on me. Because my placenta was old, it had adhered. It wouldn’t come loose on its own. Dr. Ryan had to reach in and pull it out. He was up to his elbow at least eight times. It was so, so painful. So much for the pretty pictures they paint in all the baby birth books you read about them laying your baby on your belly and not feeling the placenta being delivered. They had to biopsy it because it was getting infected and so was the cord. Probably from the meconium. Piper and Shawna told me it was going to hurt because he was going to give me a local shot to stitch up my tear. I remember thinking “Tear? I didn’t know I tore!” I laughed in my head that they thought a tiny little shot would hurt after delivering “THAT.”

I kept trying to see him and I couldn’t hear him. My eyes were so blood shot from pushing I couldn’t really see anything. He finally let out a tiny little “wahhh…” It sounded more like a kitten’s “meow.” I was really glad he was alive, but I was in so much pain at that point, I really couldn’t focus on anything else.

After getting three locals, they started stitching on me. I started hollering that I could feel it. Shawna told them that I hadn’t been like that all day. Dr. Ryan had sent the nurse for dilaudid (morphine times two basically). She was be-bopping around and hadn’t bothered to get it. Somewhere in all of that, they stabilized Coleman enough to get him to the nursery. They wrapped him up and brought him over to me and told me to kiss him because they were taking him to the nursery. I kissed that sweet, puffy, purple cheek three times before they took off with him. Something clicked and I remembered that if we had to go to the hospital, Mark was supposed to go to the nursery with him and Piper would stay with me. Later I was glad Mark wasn’t in the room with me. They announced his weight. 10 lbs 8 oz. and 22 ½” long. I was so doped up at that point, I thought they were saying 8 lbs 10oz! I thought “Wow, he wasn’t as big as I thought he would be!” HA HA HA!!!

They ended up giving me 5 locals to stitch me up. I was hollering so much because I could STILL feel it that he almost gave me a spinal block so they could finish. I remember having a death grip on Shawna’s arm and Piper’s hand. After 15 minutes or so I asked if they were almost done and Dr. Ryan said they were only half way.

Due to my intensely medicated state, I started getting pretty loony with what I was saying. At some point, the D.O. was stitching and Dr. Ryan hollered at her, “NO! NOT THERE!” Well, that could strike panic in the heart of any normal person when they are stitching “down there.” I said “Welllll…we hadn’t decided what to do for birth control. If you sew up the wrong thing, we won’t have to worry about it.” Ha ha ha! Note to self: Never let them give you dilaudid again. It makes you say embarrassing things. The entire room was laughing.

When the nurse was scrubbing me to clean me up, I told her to be “gentle.” He he. They were treating me like I had an epidural and everything was numb. I was very much aware of everything. The dilaudid didn’t help the pain at all. It just made me loopy.

There is a block of time I don’t remember at all there. Like the lights went out and no one was home. The next thing I remember was Michelle asking what I wanted for dinner. They room was full of people. All my family, Michelle, Piper, Shawna. I tried to eat because I was starving, but hospital food is just gross.

About 8:00 Mark came back to the room and helped me get in the wheelchair to go to the nursery to see him. Finally! They were letting us in! My nurse was so sweet and explained everything they had him hooked up to. He had an oxygen mask, heart monitors and an IV. It was scary. His bed was wet from the IV leaking, so they made us leave after just 5 minutes with him. I was crying because I didn’t even get to see his face. The side they put me on his head was turned the other way.

My sister, Cheryl spent the night at the hospital that night and helped me. I don’t remember sleeping much and pondering the thought that I’d been awake for nearly four days straight at that point. I cried because I didn’t feel like a mommy. I just wanted to see my baby! I had gone through all that and still couldn’t hold him!

I don’t remember anything else until the next day about 9:00am. They were going to let me hold him! We went to the nursery and finally held my sweet little baby. I only got to hold him twice that day because his respirations were too high and they were afraid that me holding him would over stimulate him. When I held him skin to skin it helped, but I told Mark I thought he was panting from being in pain from the rough delivery.

Wednesday, we called our chiropractor, Dr. Young and he was able to come to the hospital and adjust him for us! He had a dislocated shoulder and two ribs out of place! I heard when the second rib popped back in. Coleman let out a tiny “wahh!” and then SIGHED in relief and laid back down. I cried and thanked Dr. Young for coming to help him. Within minutes, the monitor started showing his respirations coming back to normal. What an amazing answer to prayer. I was finally able to try to nurse him on Wednesday morning too. We’ve had a few bumps in the road, some big bumps, but he’s doing well now.


By Thursday, they were weaning him off the IV and that afternoon they brought him to our room! He stayed with us that night and we were able to bring him home on Friday. It was an exhausting week. Waddling down to the nursery every 2-3 hours to nurse him. Setting our cell phone alarms to wake us up in the middle of the night to go down there. Life was so hectic. By the time I fed him and we got back to our room, we could either eat or sleep, but never seemed to have time for both before we had to get back down there.

(This is what a 10.8 22 1/2" long baby looks like. A 3 month old! lol)

Looking back on his story, I’m amazed at myself that I was able to remain as calm as I did. I am NOT known for being calm! It was just the grace of God and His strength helping me through. I had amazing family and friends that helped us so much that week and in the weeks after we came home from the hospital.

I'm now expecting our 2nd son in about 6 weeks. My old midwife has been fired and even though I'm having to drive to Tulsa (almost two hours away) for my prenatal appointments, I LOVE her and know she's the best fit for our family.

Friday, April 29, 2011

A Royal Pain...

Today is April 29th, 2011. It also happens to be the day that Kate Middleton & Prince William tie the knot. Now, if you're into that whole following celebrities, go for it. It's never been my thing. I really could care less they got married. Not to be rude, but I don't care if Brad Pitt gets married or Kate Hudson or really any other American celebrity, so British royalty does nothing for me either.

Mark posed the question on Facebook asking which of his friends would be watching the wedding. I noted I'd be watching the back of my eyelids. Sadly, that didn't happen. At 3:00 am, I was awakened with heart burn bad enough to choke a horse. I couldn't get any relief, except sitting straight up, which is miserable to me to do in bed. :/ I finally tossed and turned until I gave up and moved to the couch.

Here I was faced with a decision. Sit alone in the dark with my heartburn, grapes and cheese, or turn on the tv. The tv won. I was awake for almost 2 hours. I made it right up to the part Kate walked down the aisle and the minister said the typical, "We are gathered together here in the sight of God and this congregation" or something like it and I turned off the tv and went to bed. I'd seen her dress. My curiosity was satisfied. In the amount of time I watched, here's my list of things I found interesting. You don't have to agree, just my personal opinions. :) And did anyone else feel sorry for this horse and rider? Ouch!



1. The lack of window tinting on the vehicles is disturbing. Americans like our privacy.

2. Who knew William was already balding?

3. I’m so glad the queen isn’t my grandma.

4. It must suck to be Harry.

5. Charles is really old.

6. No one will ever love Camilla like they loved Diana. Ever.

7. The dresses of the mother of the bride and step mother of the groom are kinda pathetic. I was expecting something more,
well, royal.

8. How old IS the queen anyway?

9. Kate’s photographer's outfit is ridiculous (specifically, the one photographing her as she left the hotel).

10. I’m glad I'm not the photographer.

11. I can’t watch all this without thinking about Diana & remembering how she died. :(

12. Can you imagine the stress the mother of that youngest flower girl must be feeling? Will she pick her nose or do a pee pee
dance in front of millions?

13. How can a female body guard protect Kate while wearing a hat that obscures most of her view?

14. Kate really is lovely.

15. Are those real trees inside the Westminster Abby?

16. Interesting the bridal party follows the bride, while we have the reverse here.

17. Kate holds dads hand instead of arm. Hmmm...

18. How it must pain William to not be able to turn around and watch her come down the aisle!

19. I still have massive heart burn....

20. Hat or horns? You decide...

Monday, April 11, 2011

Pregnant predjudice

I've been wanting to blog about this for weeks, but just couldn't bring myself to yet. I'm sure one of these days I'll have an upbeat blog post. Ha ha! Keep waiting... :)

For all my skinny friends, don't bother to keep reading...if you wear anything bigger than an XL, feel free to read on...I think you'll feel my pain.

Shopping for maternity clothes when you're a plus size is the closest thing to torture I can think of. I think every single time I bought maternity clothes when I was pregnant with Coleman, I cried. Not when I got home, in the store. This time hasn't been quite as bad, because I did loose some weight after having him, and I haven't had to buy much this time since I could wear the stuff from last time. I even bought a size smaller jeans this time! I was elated! :) But really, when you look at it, the selection for fat people STINKS.

Here's what a typical shopping trip to find maternity clothes looks like for me....I wonder into the mall. (Yes, the mall, because regular stores don't carry things that fit) I have to keep walking right past the trendy shops like, Pea in a Pod, because they don't make anything CLOSE to my size...I head straight for Motherhood Maternity. Oh thank you Motherhood for actually HAVING clothes that fit me. But wait, they are all the way in the back corner of the store. Next to the bathrooms and the clearance items. Don't want those things too close to the front. They don't look cute draped on the little skinny mannequins. It so doesn't help your metal state of mind that they plaster a nearly anorexic looking girl with a precious little bump on every bag of clothes you buy there too. Like it's not painful enough, they have to remind you.



Now, don't think I'm being way too off beat here, but, I wonder if this is to some degree how black people felt when they were made to ride at the back of the bus, or have separate water fountains. Like they were diseased. Like they had the plague. Yes, I'm overweight. I get that. I have scales & a mirror. I'm not blind. I can see it, and so can everyone else. So, is it necessary to try to hide it, or punish me for it? There's an entire store of adorable, trendy clothes there. Things I'd LOVE to wear, but can't. When you go to the Plus Size section, it starts looking like Omar the Tent Maker designed the clothes. They are huge, shapeless and ugly and usually made from ghastly prints I would be embarrassed if my grandmother wore, much less ME! They are also hideously expensive. Seriously, I went last week and bought four items and it was $100.00. FOUR! That's it! And that was with a sale! A single pair of shorts was $40.00. Now, that may not be a lot to some people, but it's a whole lot to us. And, considering I'm only going to be wearing them 2-3 more months, it's a lot of money to spend.



As we were leaving the store on Sunday, I started to tear up. I had told myself, "Next time will be different. Next time will be better." It's not. Not by much anyway. I had great expectations of loosing a lot of weight before I got pregnant again, but it didn't happen. Honestly, I had told Mark a couple of weeks before I found out I was pregnant with Coleman I didn't want to get pregnant until I lost weight because I hate seeing myself in pictures, and I knew I'd want pictures with my baby. I still love the pictures of him, but I can't ignore the me that I don't love looking at.

I tell myself that if I never knew what skinny looked like, maybe this wouldn't be so hard. I hate my thyroid for whacking me out and making me gain so much weight. It's not like I stuffed my face with doughnuts and candy bars to look like this. Oh sure, I have my part, but for the most part, it's the dysfunctional thyroid that hangs on to every ounce of food I eat. My size 8's are gone for good and they've been replaced with a much, much larger size.

I did find a dress I like today at Target. I'm excited because I'll have something new to wear this weekend when we go on our short, but sweet babymoon. I keep saying one day I'll open a plus size maternity store and it will be wildly successful. I can't be the first overweight person to be pregnant. Until then, I guess I'm stuck with the moo moo's and frightful prints that lurk in the back corner. If you're blessed with the gift of thin, treasure it. :)

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Renewed Strength

Isaiah 40:31
but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.

I want to thank all my friends and family who have been faithful to pray for us. Like I mentioned in my last blog, things have been really hard lately. At church on Sunday, Matt preached about letting go. Giving it to God & letting him take it all. Wow. Thanks for preparing that JUST FOR ME. lol. :) In all seriousness, I knew that's what I needed to do, but was just struggling to do it. I sat there and cried through half the service.

I had such a hard time even getting there on Sunday. We did a meal with a few other families after church and I was supposed to bring beans, rice and dessert. I got the beans made Saturday night, but I was so tired I put the brownies and rice off until Sunday morning. I was sitting on the bed crying because I didn't have the energy to get dressed after I managed to get the food made. I knew Mark would hate going and staying to eat without me. I knew I would feel better if I did go. I just had to make myself put my clothes and makeup on to get there. I begged and pleaded with God to just give me the energy. He did. It wasn't a big huge surge like *I* wanted, but it was enough. It was sufficient. I got ready. I went and wow... I was blessed.

When I left church on Sunday, I didn't know HOW God was going to do it, but I knew He WAS going to do it. He would take care of us financially. It wasn't mine to worry about. He would handle if for me.

I went to bible study that afternoon and during prayer request time, I asked for prayer for my thyroid. This was kind of hard for me, because I'm VERY new to this group. This was just my 2nd time to go. Now, all of you who know me know that I have NO problem talking. lol. I do however, have a hard time admitting that I need help. Even if it's something I can't do much about, like my thyroid. This group of ladies were amazing. When it was time to pray, Marilyn, our pastor's wife just asked the ladies to come and lay a hand on me while she prayed. Feeling the love of those ladies as they put their hands on my back and shoulders and arms while she prayed over me was so wonderful. I haven't felt that much love in a long time.

When I got home, I had more energy than I had all day. Really in DAYS. I worked on Walker's room and made a big dent in it! I moved 8 storage tubs and boxes out for Mark to put in the garage for me. It made a HUGE difference in his room and my spirit!

I went Monday and got a couple of vacuum storage bags for the 10 blankets and quilts I needed to store that were in his crib AND we were blessed with a friend saying she doesn't need her crib mattress and she's giving us hers! WOW! Also on Monday, God showed up BIG TIME in our mail box. It's amazing the way He's showing us He's there. A friend sent me cash. In a card, in with some other things she mailed me, there was tucked a card, and some cash. A note saying she was praying. Wow. I cried. :) Then, my phone rebate came too! The two together were the exact amount of money Mark had to turn down because he wasn't able to preach a funeral Monday. I called and told him I knew why he couldn't preach that funeral, God had made up for it! He also had to turn down a funeral for Tuesday because of his work schedule. I told him I didn't know what God would do for Tuesday, but He had Monday taken care of. :)

Tuesday we were supposed to meet our tax lady in Norman and sign our paperwork at lunch time. She sent me a text late morning and had been called to a meeting and couldn't meet us. I was really bummed, but she assured me that it wouldn't affect our deposit date of our refund for next week, so I was ok. She called me that evening, and said she could meet us so we ran down to Norman. She prefaced our conversation with the fact she had made an error when doing our return, but it was good news. Now, I don't know about you, but here's my experience with bank errors. They are NEVER in my favor! If they are, it's when playing Monopoly and it's only $10.00. This bank error was WAY better than that. A $870.00 error in our favor. I seriously almost fell out of my chair right there in the Taco Bell. Ha ha ha! Our refund was DOUBLE what I had gotten on Turbo Tax. I think God WAY more than took care of what Mark missed out on being able to preach those two funerals. :)

It doesn't change our long term problem financially, but it does help. A lot. We're going to be able to take care of a lot of things that desperately have needed to be done, we just couldn't. One of the things I'm most excited about is getting my wedding ring repaired. One of my prongs has worn down and I haven't been able to wear it for fear of loosing the stone. I miss it!

Letting go can hurt sometimes. It certainly wasn't easy, but God opened up the flood gates for us. There is no way to describe this other than a total God thing. I wasn't even going to try to find someone to do them for us, because I didn't think we could afford it. God provided and she was only $5.00 more than the crazy lady we used last year that did a terrible job! lol!

Today, we're soaring on eagle's wings. We're running and not growing weary, and we're able to walk and not faint, because my God is good. He is faithful and He provides.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Bloggy Blah's

I haven't felt very bloggy lately. What I do feel, is completely overwhelmed. I feel overwhelmed mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally. We have a lot going on right now. Some of which I'm not exactly free to share on the world wide web, because you never know who's reading it. I'm not saying that to be annoying, but hopefully soon we'll be able to be more specific.

I'll start with what weighs heaviest on my mind. Things are extremely tight financially. Wait. That's the understatement of the year. We are hundreds of dollars short each payday. If you know us well, you know we don't live an extravagant lifestyle. We live in a very small house, drive a paid for car, don't have cable, etc. etc. etc.

God has proven himself faithful time and time again. He's sent food through several different people. He's sent gifts of money to us. He's provided extra funerals for Mark to preach and photography for me. He's even blessed us with extra gifts of fun things like amazing tickets to the hockey game (one of our favorite things ever) and tickets to the circus! Why then, do I find it so hard to trust Him? I've never gone without a meal. I still live in a warm house, and for today, we have electricity, water and heat. I Timothy 6:8 says "But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that." Why then, do I doubt? Why do I struggle so? I hate struggling with this flesh! Why is it that sometimes when you know the right thing to do, it's so hard to do it? I need to trust Him. I need to take that leap of faith and say, God, catch me as I fall into your arms. I trust you. You are my provider. My sustainer. You've said in your Word that you know what I need before I even ask! I need to immerse myself in His Word to remove my doubts and my fears and the biggest stumbling block of all...myself.

This life isn't about me. It's not about my will. It's about bringing glory to Him. There are people with so much less. Yet, I sit in my house with what I do have and struggle to be content. We watched "The Pursuit of Happyness" with Will Smith in it a few weeks ago. We both sat on the couch and cried through most of it. Perhaps because it hit too close to home.
If you haven't seen it, it's a good movie. This one was on tv, so some of the language was filtered. I won't spoil it for you if you haven't seen it, but even though it's depressing, it's worth watching all the way through.

I'm feeling overwhelmed physically too. Like I mentioned in my previous blog, I'm really struggling with my thyroid this pregnancy. I have little to no energy on a daily basis. (I did get some supplements at the health Food Store last night I'm hoping will help) Walker's room is still a total disaster. It's still the "junk room." There's no paint on the walls, no mattress on the bed, no bedding picked out, junk everywhere. It's almost funny, but I think I'm a little too hormonal to laugh. His diaper bag is packed and he has clothes in the dresser though. :) When we get our tax refund back we'll be able to remedy the paint situation, so I'm hoping that will spur me on and give me some energy to complete his room.

My house often looks like a war zone. I cry when I go into the kitchen. Yep. I said it. lol. I feel so overwhelmed with needing to clean it, not having the energy to, and then just not caring, I often turn around and walk right back out. I'll have a good week and get the whole house put back together, only for it to look like a battle zone again within days. Mark is the most amazing help to me. He's always done ALL our laundry. Even when I stayed home with Coleman. He's WAY more anal than I am and he does a better job at it. I'm happy to let him. Occasionally I feel guilty over it, but the feeling generally passes quickly. :) He helps in so many ways with me, with Coleman and the house, but he can't do it all. I actually made him delete a really cute picture of Coleman he posted tonight on FaceBook because the house was a disaster in the background and I didn't want everyone to see it and here I am blogging about it. lol. :) Must be the crazy pregnant hormones talking. lol.

All of this being said, I know I'm not the only person in the world to ever go through this. Mark has often said, "God never wastes a hurt." That's so true. I've gone through so many things and that saying still rings true. This post isn't for anyone to feel sorry for me. I guess I just want people to know the real me. The real us. The Thompson's. We lay in bed at night and pray, "Hey God, it's us. The Thompson's. Yeah, we're really tired again." Ha ha ha! Can't tell you how many times we've started our prayer time out like that (I know Mark is laughing reading this right now!)

I long to be the person who's house is always "company ready," always have the perfect thing to wear and always look cute wherever I go with my hair done and makeup on. I'm not sure that will ever happen, but that's ok. While we wait for God, and we wait for Walker, I'm clinging to these verses. I hope they encourage you if you're going through a rough spot right now too.

Psalm 37:7 Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; do not fret when men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.

Psalm 16:8 Better a little with righteousness than much gain with injustice.

John 14:1  "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.

PHI 4:11  I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to  be content whatever the circumstances.  (God, teach this to me!!!)

Psalm 42:5  Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.

Proverbs 24:10  If you falter in times of trouble, how small is your strength!

Matthew 8:26  He replied, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then he  got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.  
14:31  Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of  little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?"
Phil 4:12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.
Hebrews 13:5  Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with  what you have, because God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I  forsake you."




Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Waiting on Japan?

The tragedy is unspeakable. It's unthinkable. And yet, it seems so far away...that is, until they start talking about radioactive fallout HERE. In AMERICA. Suddenly, the 8,775 miles from Tokyo to Oklahoma city seems, well, closer. This post is in no way intended to solely focus on ME or US and not THEM, but the truth is, it's something worth thinking about. I think it reminds me of the September 11th attacks. It seemed SO close to home and so scary, yet so far away. Not that we here in Oklahoma are removed from tragedy. I remember well April 19th, 1995. It was a long time ago and with time, you tend to start loosing details in your mind. It was still a powerful, life changing event here. The Murrah bombing event in no way compares with the loss of life in Japan, but honestly, it's the closest thing I've ever experienced. Some people may laugh or scoff at the comparison, but it's the closest thing I've got.




When we start talking about radiation, honestly, it sort of freaks me out. I'm not saying I'm not trusting God. I also have enough sense to come in out of the rain and go to the cellar when a tornado is headed for my house. Is the threat real here in the United States? Well, everyone has their opinion on that. The truth is, we have 104 nuclear power plants here in the U.S. and four of those are in California. Of course we all know that it's "just a matter of time" until half the state falls into the Pacific according to lots of "experts." So, in reality, there could be a nuclear event much closer to home than Japan.

Most of you know that I've struggled with serious thyroid issues for nearly four years now. Everyone says "Oh thyroid! That's easy. All you have to do is take a pill!" Well, how nice for them. That's not been the case for me. The journey of hypothyroidism has been long and hard. Not just for me, but for my family as well. Coleman and Walker are already at a higher risk of having thyroid problems since I do. The thought of one more thing "pushing them over the edge" makes me want to cry. My husband has also sacrificed a LOT to help take care of me and Coleman and pick up the slack when I'm just too tired. The thought of them having to live in a perpetual thyroid hell makes me sick to think about it.

Some days are really not that bad. I have enough energy to get up, take care of Coleman and even take care of some things around the house. Then there are the majority of days that it's a struggle to get out of bed, to feed my son, or myself or to pick him up to change his diaper. I may make dinner, but have to sit down 4 or five times to rest in order to get it done. I sit on the couch the majority of the day, just trying to conserve energy to take care of Coleman. We watch movies, read lots of books and of course, he loves to watch me play Angry Birds. Ha ha ha! The point of me saying this isn't for anyone to feel sorry for me or pity me, but this certainly isn't the life I want for me, much less my children! I can usually gather enough energy to do the things I really HAVE to do and even fun things I WANT to do, but I often pay for it the next day by being extra exhausted.

I used to be a "go getter." Up early, work out, cleaning the house from top to bottom kind of person. I used to have a precious thing called energy. It's gone now. Is it gone forever? I pray that's not the case, but after four years of struggling and still barely getting by most days, it leaves me feeling hopeless a lot of the time. I'm much better now than I was when I was diagnosed. I HAVE come a long way from not being able to walk across the room or work for five weeks. I know God can choose to heal me from this. I also know that may not be His will for my life. Mark has said so many times, "God never wastes a hurt." That has rang true many times in my life. I've had some terrible hurt, but through that experience, I've been able to help someone else through theirs.

While we sit and think about the incredible loss of life in Japan, how their entire lives have been destroyed, uprooted, and tossed about, and their lives seem to have come to a screeching halt, life does still go on. Tonight my good friend Christy gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. She was blessed to have a home water birth. Sigh... :) Few things on this earth are as precious as new life. It makes me think of the verses in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 that say:

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.

I pray that this entire thing stays under control and things don't get as bad as they predict they could. Just in case, we're prepared and ever lifting the people of Japan up in our prayers.

My friend Amber over at the eletelephant came up with a super cute link for donations to Japan,.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Out of the mouth of babes...

Coleman has proven to be quite entertaining the last few months. Especially the last three weeks or so. His vocabulary has really exploded and he often repeats everything we say. Yikes...

A few days ago, he was laying in bed with us after he woke up and Mark brought him into our room. We asked him if he wanted to tell his bubba (his name for Walker) good morning. He proceeded to lift my shirt and speak directly into my belly button. He poked and prodded me with his finger and then said "See Walk Ur. See him growing?" Ha ha ha! So cute! I told him we still have a few months to go before we can see him.

We took him to a Barons hockey game last weekend and he was totally enamored. He loved it. (Thanks dad for the tickets! Our seats were AWESOME!) During all the pre-game activities, he shrieked and clapped enthusiastically when everyone else did. He had us totally in stitches. Since the game he's become, let's say... a little preoccupied with hockey. Maybe obsessed is a better word. Yesterday he insisted on "HOCKEY GAME!" and and watched 15 minutes of game highlights from an old USA vs Canada game on YouTube.
He ran an errand with Mark last night. The lady helping them asked him his name to which he responded "Colemean." (Yes, that's really the way he says it!) Mark said, "are you going to have a baby brother? What's his name?" To which Coleman responded, "Hockey." lol. Mark said, "NO! What's your BROTHER'S name?" Coleman..."Hockey?" Sigh. Mark informed the lady that we would NOT be naming our baby Hockey. Bummer for Coleman, but I think Walker will thank us in the long run. :)


Yesterday Coleman walked all over the house playing with his baby that Nana (Aunt Caren, my sister) got him for Christmas. He would say "Night night. Go seepy. See you in the morning. Get covers!" Also, every time I would ask him what he wanted to eat he would scream "CANDY! COOOOKIES" Nice... Here he is enjoying one of the cookies I made this week, still sleepy from his nap.



He's also gotten very adept at ordering Riley around. Riley has sadly discovered he's a dog since Coleman arrived at our house. His life just isn't the same. He spends his days chasing cats in the yard, getting in trouble for being on the furniture and trying to steal food from Coleman, or if he's lucky, Coleman is in the mood to share and willingly feeds him from his highchair. :/

Riley bounded inside yesterday and went straight for Coleman looking for food. Coleman looked at him and said "Go to bed. Now!" HA HA HA! Now I wonder where he's heard that?
Today he was telling him to shut up while he was barking. Hmmm...guess I should come up with something nicer to get the dog to be quiet. Coleman has also learned we use the word "hup" to get Riley to jump on the bed and he was telling him "hup" trying to get him on the bed with him. Oh, and last but not least, when I tell Coleman to sit down, he in turn replies "Good boy" when he sits. It's hysterical. I'm so glad I've got Coleman to entertain me while we wait!

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Waiting...

Today, I'm overwhelmed with gratefulness to my God that Walker seems healthy. We have two friends that have had recent diagnoses that their babies aren't well. One lost their fight today, just shy of 22 weeks. I can't imagine the pain of laboring to deliver a baby that's already gone to heaven. I can't imagine that crushing pain of loss. Labor is so mentally and physically challenging and to have no hope of the reward of your baby in the end....

Another friend of ours has learned that their baby has a birth defect that will require immediate surgery as soon as they are born. So much hurt and unanswered questions. I'm grateful both of them are trusting in God for hope and comfort, but it still hurts.

Every single kick, jab and poke Walker gives me, I rejoice. Rejoice that he's healthy and strong, rejoice that he's alive, rejoice that we'll meet him and hold him in just a few short months.
Anyone who's been pregnant has to admit that it's not always fun or easy. Being pregnant is hard work. There's a reason they equate it to climbing Mt. Everest! Your hips hurt (this time my hips hurt much earlier and much worse than they ever did with Coleman), you get heart burn, you get tired, and then there are those crazy insane hormones driving you (and your husband!) cRaZy. But, it's all worth it, because you know that prize you're getting in the end.
This time it's been so much harder waiting for Walker's birth day to arrive, because I KNOW how amazing it is to have a baby. Coleman's birth was really rough and traumatic. There's still a lot of hurt and fear I have to work through while I'm waiting on Walker, but he's worth the wait.

Psalm 34:18
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit