Mollie Grace's Birth (Part 1)

Many people have been curious about the details of Mollie Grace's rapid entry into this world and I figured it could be the impetus I needed to revive my poor, abandoned blog.

Late Saturday afternoon (Jan 5), I melodramatically texted my friend Lindsay, who had just had a little boy the week prior, that I would be pregnant forever and that the baby was never coming. 

Brandon had Communion set up obligations at our church Saturday night, so I decided to take the kids to Target to kill some time and stock up on a few necessary supplies for the kids, were the baby ever to come.  (cue more melodrama) 

The kids, though they can have their moments, were behaving fairly well in the store, but they were just extra excitable that night.  When you are 1 and 3, there is a lot to point out and get excited about.  The current obsession in our household is ALL THINGS Angry Birds.  Happy can spot Angry Bird merchandise like an eagle to prey.  And if he ever fails to see something, Little Miss, who chooses to use more grunts than words that she is perfectly capable of saying, will loudly grunt about something Happy may have missed.

Well, just our luck that night at Target, we ended up in the check out lane with more Angry Birds paraphernalia than is fair to any parent.  The kids were beside themselves with excitement of pointing out stuff.  As my very pregnant self tried to load stuff onto the check out lane belt (with just a touch of difficulty) and the kids were begging to see Angry Birds items, the gentleman behind me in line said, "Boy!  You SURE do have your hands full."  Why do they always say that at the most chaotic time?  Is it because it is just so hard not to say it?  I politely responded that I did, but was happy about it.  If that poor man knew I was going to be delivering my baby in the van in just 3 short hours, he might have even run the other way.

Anyways, I got the kids home and, very fortunately, Brandon was able to leave his communion responsibilities earlier than normal and was able to help me get the kids to bed (otherwise, he may have gotten home after all the drama started and found a baby in our house instead of our van).  As soon as the kids were in bed, I started feeling contractions.  They felt pretty tame and similar to the false contractions I had been feeling off and on for 3 weeks.  After about 20 or so minutes, Brandon called his dad to come over to stay with the kids.  I thought the call was a little premature, but I didn't argue.

In the 30 minutes that it took Brandon's dad to get here, my water broke and my contractions increased in intensity.  I was laying on the hall floor when my father-in-law arrived.  Brandon was hurrying to get everything we needed in the van.  Fortunately, I had the foresight to ask Brandon to clear out the back bench of the van so that I could lie down while in labor.

A little background: With my labor with Lil Miss, it went very quickly and I did NOT handle the pain well.  So much so that nurses were coming in and telling to be quiet because I was scaring other patients.  I was that woman in labor.  And it took the anesthesiologist a sweet forever to get to me and give me an epidural.  Because of this, I had been reading up a lot on natural childbirth and pain management while pregnant with Mollie Grace.  I wasn't planning on a natural childbirth, but because I was reading all this literature that was so pro unmedicated childbirth, I drank the kool-aid a little bit.  A few weeks before Mollie Grace's birth,  I had casually mentioned to Brandon that I was interested in trying an unmedicated birth.  My sweet gentle husband who rarely has a strong opinion on how I handle things said, "What?!  Are you serious?!  That's crazy!!"  We eventually came to a compromise of me trying to labor naturally and if I couldn't handle the pain, then we would chose for me to get an epidural.

We left soon after my father-in-law arrived.  As we were getting into the van at our house, I told Brandon, "I want that epidural!"  He laughed and nodded, indicating that is what he thought would happen all along.  I laughed (as much as I could).  He usually is right, anyways.

About 10 minutes into the 45 minute drive to the hospital (although I think Brandon managed to make it a 30 minute drive), I realized that there was not going to be enough time for me to get that epidural.  But I still had no idea that the baby would be born in the van.

continued (Part 2)

Where art thou mojo?

Yes.  Hello.  It has been some time since I posted, has it not?

So long that we have a new president.

Oh, wait.

Not so much.

Anyways, I haven't blogged for a number of reasons.  Mainly, I've lost my blogging mojo and have yet to locate it.  I think I've determined that it must be tied up in my Sonic drinks.  And I haven't had one in months.  Because of the whole pregnancy thing.  You know, trying to be ueber healthy for baby and all that.

The hubs and I, per usual, are a few to 10 years behind on current tv trends.  Therefore we have been consumed with watching all of the episodes of Lost on Netflix.

That was quite the time investment. But, alas, we persevered.

And I have to say that I am relieved to be through with it.  I know there are some diehard Lost fans, but after Season 3, I just thought the writers seemed desperate for a storyline. 

In addition to growing a human inside of myself and keeping the other two little humans I grew alive and well, I have been working on the quilt for baby #3.  I finished the back and front and made the "quilt sandwich" last night.  Now I just need to quilt it and add the border.

the front

back

Since we don't find out the gender of our babies ahead of time and I have made a quilt for each of our kids while pregnant with them, it is quite the challenge for me to make a gender neutral quilt that the hubs approves of.  What do you think?  Gender neutral?  Or erring on the side of boy?  I'm happy with it but definitely think it looks more boy-like.

And for posterity, I'll leave you with a picture of my sweet little animals from Halloween.  They are such sweet blessings, on good and bad days alike.

Friends Across The Seas

When I went off to college, I went to a small school where I basically knew no one.  I think there were maybe 2 people from my high school that went to the same college as me.  Most of my high school friends went to large colleges and universities where they knew many others.

Since I basically didn't know anyone, I was doing the "potluck" roommate thing, where you are at the mercy of some college life office to place you in a room with someone who hopefully isn't too crazy.

My potluck roommate, Katie, ended up being one of the best things that happened to me at college.

And, she wasn't too crazy!

(I hope she can say the same thing for me).

Katie lives overseas and I haven't seen her in four years (the time she initially moved).  Her oldest daughter was less than a year at the time. Her and her husband, Chris, and (now) 2 kids are back for a few months and I got to see them this past week.  And our kids got to meet each other and play.

It was so wonderful to see them all.  I spent the whole day with her and only scratched the surface of what I wanted to ask and talk to her about (Does she still have the chapstick habit? Does she still dance to Arethra Franklin?  Does she still watch reruns of The Cosby Show and Fullhouse?  Is "super" still her favorite adjective of all time?  You know, important questions!) 

She is such a dear friend and I was so thrilled to catch up with her.

our oldest kids - instant buds

sweet hugs

right before the fire ant incident of 2012

Glimmers

Most days as a parent, I pretty much am keenly aware of all the things I'm not doing well.  Or the things the kids are doing too much of (tv) or too little of (veggies).

Yesterday morning, I was trying to hurry to make an appointment.  I was doing all the last minute scurrying and Little Miss started crying in the other room.  This is not unusual.  I could tell it was more of a disgruntled cry than a something-is-really-wrong cry.  So, I did my typical, "What's wrong, sweetie?" and "I'll be right there" lines while I quickly trying to get everything together.

I went to check on her a minute later and I saw Happy holding her head and leaning in towards her.  At first, I thought he had her in a headlock.  But as I got closer, I could hear him saying something quietly to her and then he said an exuberant, "Amen!". 

I realized he was praying for her because she was upset. How precious.

When I don't know how to comfort my children or I can't get them to calm down, I just pray for them. Happy was doing the same for Little Miss.

It was a sweet glimmer of hope and an encouragement to me.

Sweet Memories

A couple of weeks ago, I had to go to the OB to get an early screening for gestational diabetes. 

Because the screening that comes later in pregnancy is not enough fun already. They wanted to treat me to one twice.  How kind. 

(That, or the fact that I have small babies is a concern for them and they wanted to make sure something hasn't been overlooked in past pregnancies.)

Happy has this complex with doctors and nurses touching me.  He screams and cries VERY LOUDLY, which in turn, fires up Little Miss.  It makes a trip to the OB with them extra special and delightful. A real memory maker.

Add in a fasting pregnant woman consuming a sugar poison glucose drink to Happy's aversion to nurses touching me and you have a real recipe for disaster. I decided to let Mom and Dad watch the kids while I ran over to the doctor's office for my blood work.

When I got to my parents' house, Dad wanted to pull out his childhood train set for my little train nut, Happy, to play with.  I have fond memories of playing with that train set with my dad as a child.  And it was so precious to see him playing with the kids. 

I am so very thankful for new memories being made with Dad.

(And also thankful that I passed the diabetes test.)

Easter Pics

I took these forever ago, but never posted them.

Better late than never, right?

Right.

Free Wood. Or Free Labor. However You May Look at it.

I haven't blogged about anything other than Dad for months.  It's hard to recover your blogging mojo after dealing with life threatening illness.  (Dad is better.  He is now in a nursing home and making improvements.)

Anyways, what better to re-enter my mundane blogging than a funny little picture?  For the record, Hubs does not find the same level of humor in this as I do.  I am hoping someone else can appreciate this.

I pass this plot of land on my way to the in-laws house.  Recently, a large tree fell down after a storm.

 

Isn't that a generous offer?!? Come clean up my property and, as an added bonus for me you, you can haul it off.  Score.