We Continue To Hope

Things don't always go as planned.

 I know this. I've learned and relearned this.

So, when we found out, after three losses, then, after a lot of difficulties, testing, etc, that we were again expecting, I didn't feel anything close to excitement. Nope.

All my pregnancy joy and excitement had died, it seemed, back in February.

All I felt instead was a feeling of bleakness, and said to Derek, "Well, we'll see."

Weeks were spent in a state of high anxiety/near panic. Every twinge, every stretch was, "Am I miscarrying?"

Exhausted by the end of the day, I'd fall into bed and think, "Made it through another day. We'll see what happens tomorrow."

It.was.awful.

Part of the exhaustion was anxiety, but part of it was trying to NOT feel anxious. Ferevently, I'd lean on my God to just help me feel peace instead of fear, make my faith greater than the terror. See, I KNOW in my heart, that faith is better, that no matter what happens we'll be okay, but putting it into practice is and continues to be very hard.

Add to the anxiety, near debilitating "morning" (yeah right) sickness, and constant exhaustion, and well, it doesn't take much imagination to guess my house was in shambles and my spirit pretty battered. We couldn't hide it from the kids, with my being so out of commission. They took the news fine. Mostly because I simply said, "We're hoping for a baby in the spring."

For so long, all we had was hope.

Yet, through it all, everything continues to look great with the pregnancy. Everything IS great. My 12 week appointment was yesterday, and while still considered and treated as "high risk" Baby keeps on growing, and making me fat and tired.

It's so awesome.

It's taken me a long to time to feel okay. Then to go from "okay" to excited. And now? Well. I know tomorrow it could all change. It could all go away. But I've come to the conclusion that I'm going to be grateful TODAY for God's gifts. Today, I'm 12 weeks and some change, pregnant with our baby. We're so hopeful for a March birthday, just as spring is springing. Every day is a victory.

If it all goes away, I'm still going to be grateful for the journey.

(Baby, happy and healthy about two weeks ago)

Yesterday

We welcomed Miriam Anne into our family yesterday, August 14 at 5:34 in the morning. 

She weighed in at a respectable 8lbs 2 oz, and then promptly pooped herself down half a pound. ;)
20 1/4 inches.

She looks like all the rest, most strongly resembling Oliver.  The fact that she is a girl is perfectly normal and doesn't feel "weird" at all.

However, Oliver did ask why we cut her penis off.

My insistence that we did NOT cut off ANYTHING fell on deaf, concerned three-year-old ears.

I will have to post the WHOLE story because it ended up being a story, but for today, I'll say, she was born at home, in the water, right where she belonged. 

She and God knew what I needed while I was busy trying to be the boss of things.

Like I said, it's a story, and I'll promise I'll share. But this mama is tired. And five children, as it turns out, is a lot.

So, maybe in the next few days I'll be able to put words into order to create a semblance out of what was an experience that I sincerely hope makes me a better, stronger person.

Pretty sure it will.

The First One

I tried valiantly to get the picture of JUST the baby dress... but then decided the beer-gut was appropriate as it IS the first completely project for baby girl.

This sweet little dress is NEWBORN size and look at how wide it is. I used a vintage reprint from the 1950's. Were babies in the 1950's just fatter? I need to call my grandmother and ask her.

But I love how it turned out, and I loved making it. Every stitch. And every stitch removed as well. I finally got it all done today (it took me a week!). The only major mistake? I melted the lace on the back ironing it. Apparently, the fabric is cotton, but the LACE that is on the fabric is synthetic. Super NOT cool. Luckily it was salvageable. But not before I had a minor panic attack.

Anyway, won't she look pretty at her blessing?

Halfway!

At the 20 week (I'll actually be 21 weeks tomorrow) mark, I still look more fat than pregnant. SIGH. My babies have a ton of room in my giant torso so I don't pop until way late. Ezra was like... never.

Here I am attempting to take a picture of myself and only succeeding in looking like a giant dork.

That poky thing in the back of my head is actually the TV antenna in our room behind me, stuck up on the wall. Awesome.
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Halfway there and feeling fine.