There are breakfast dishes still in the sink.
Toys litter the den.
There are soap splatters on the mirror and counter in the kid's bathroom.
I left clothes on the floor in my room this morning.
Shoes wait by the door.
And I have papers all over my desk.
The best part is: I don't have to care!
Yesterday we got not one, but TWO great offers on the house. After a flurry of phone calls, paperwork, and some quiet moments in prayer, we accepted an offer and are officially off the market. Wa-hoo!
I'm trying to just enjoy a beautiful day and the kids today, loving the fact that I don't have to worry about keeping things clean or being ready to get everyone in the car at a moment's notice.
There are still lots of things to do in order to officially sell this house, but it's a fabulous start!
Wednesday, March 31
Monday, March 29
Strength
After only seven days on the market, we have an offer on the house.
Cue GIANT exhale!
I certainly feel like it's a whole new world and a legal vocabularly test of sorts, but I am soooooo thankful! Prayerfully, we will have things hammered out in the next few days.
I've realized that there are a lot of things that I currently value more than a clean house. It's evidence of some changes in my heart and life in the past four years; there was a time that a spotless home trumped most everything else.
This process has also shown me that in some ways I'm stronger and more capable than I thought at this particular season of life. According to Bo, my strength is coming from a pretty unlikely source.
Bo is extremely fascinated by the story of Sampson and his strength in the Old Testament of the Bible. In fact, the last time I sat him down for a hair cut, he got pretty upset about how it might affect his muscle development.
Tonight as we read the story of the new church, Bo snuggled onto my lap and rested his hand on my leg. As I finished reading, Bo got close to my leg and inspected my calf more closely.
"Mom, is this your strength?" he asked pointing to the visible leg hairs sprouting there.
Guess it's officially time for a shave :)
Cue GIANT exhale!
I certainly feel like it's a whole new world and a legal vocabularly test of sorts, but I am soooooo thankful! Prayerfully, we will have things hammered out in the next few days.
I've realized that there are a lot of things that I currently value more than a clean house. It's evidence of some changes in my heart and life in the past four years; there was a time that a spotless home trumped most everything else.
This process has also shown me that in some ways I'm stronger and more capable than I thought at this particular season of life. According to Bo, my strength is coming from a pretty unlikely source.
Bo is extremely fascinated by the story of Sampson and his strength in the Old Testament of the Bible. In fact, the last time I sat him down for a hair cut, he got pretty upset about how it might affect his muscle development.
Tonight as we read the story of the new church, Bo snuggled onto my lap and rested his hand on my leg. As I finished reading, Bo got close to my leg and inspected my calf more closely.
"Mom, is this your strength?" he asked pointing to the visible leg hairs sprouting there.
Guess it's officially time for a shave :)
Sunday, March 28
Finally
I received an email earlier this week with a link to Kelle's blog, more specifically to the post she wrote about the birth of her beautiful daughter Nella.
As I read, I found myself sobbing, weeping, overcome at the raw and deep wound that it spoke to in my own heart. She put words to so many of the pains that I felt and experienced with Sadie's birth, an event buried somewhere beneath the reality of the last few months.
I feel as though I have been living in "reaction" mode since the discovery of the cyst on Sadie's lung back in October. It's one of those ocean experiences where I think that my feet are anchored, but as another wave comes rushing at me, I realize the sand mocks me and shifts underneath, leaving me unsteady and overwhelmed once again.
As I read Kelle's story, I was a bit ashamed. Ashamed that I pushed away the experience of those moments. Angry that I have not unpacked those emotions and those memories. Afraid of what would happen if I really felt the pain of those days in the hospital. I do not know how she managed to write so articulately a week after her experience!
I am tempted to simply post the link to her story and to encourage you to go there and read [with a box of tissues] and just kind of say ditto to her story. BUT I know that's just another easy way out. It's time to really process my experience and how it rocked me and my safe little world. And ultimately how it brought me, broken and bruised, back to the cross over and over again.
At this point, I'm not sure if I will publish this post or if it will sit in my drafts. If I do post it, be glad you're reading it now because it may not be here for long.
It's Monday, November 23, and I have my 38 week appointment with the OB. I am technically 38 weeks on Wednesday, but it's close enough :) J's mom is here and we've had a great weekend of eating and relaxing, so it's starting to feel like it's baby time. Unfortunately, I don't feel like I'm even close to labor. I'm comfortable, sleeping well, and full of energy. I was 3 cm or so a week prior so I'm hoping that I've come a little further since my previous appointment, but I don't want to get my hopes up.
I get the kids settled for naps, and head over for my appointment and a few quick errands. It's a beautifully mild November day, and I rub my belly and let Sadie know that it would be a great day to be born.
The doctor confirms that I'm now at 4 cm and beginning to efface. It's good news, but she doesn't seem all that confident that labor will happen any time soon.
"I'm not sure I'll see you before Thanksgiving," she says as she's heading out of the room. "Guess we'll see."
I dress slowly, feeling discouraged that things don't feel imminent.
By the time I get home, the kids are all awake from their naps, and I am determined NOT to stop moving. I'm going to let gravity do as much work as possible to help me get this baby OUT!
So we decide to take a nice long walk around the neighborhood before Daddy gets home. When I look at this picture, I feel the laughter of that moment.
It is so mild that we don't even need jackets, and we linger on the sidewalk snapping pictures and looking for dandelions and wishes. I wish to meet this precious little girl rolling around in my belly. 
After our walk, I busy myself making dinner. I cannot for the life of me remember what I prepared that night. We welcome daddy home from work with giggles and hugs and lots of snuggles. 
As I clear the table after dinner, I feel a familiar little tingle, and casually glance at the clock. I'm excited and pat my belly, "good girl." Seven minutes later another slight pain, and I smile.
Now the kids are in bed, and every five minutes I take a deep breath. I text my mom and sister to let them know things may be getting started, but I don't say anything to J or his mom. I certainly don't want to sound the alarm before I know this is really it.
I start packing for the hospital and doing a few last minute things in our room. By 9 PM, I am taking pause about every three minutes, so I venture into the study.
"Babe, is there anything you want to do before we head to the hospital?"
He looks at me, surprised.
"Looks like we're going to have a baby tonight."
"Well, I guess I'd better get in the shower."
I laugh and he hustles off to the shower as I let his mom know we're going to head out pretty soon. Then, I begin the official it's time phone calls.
As I talk to my brother, I have an especially strong contraction as he says, "wow, that is so exciting!"
"It's exciting for you because you're not about to push a watermelon out of your bottom!" I exhale.
He laughs.
My water hasn't broken so I have time, but I know this is it. I walk in to the kid's rooms. I breathe in their sleeping smells. I touch their hair. I pray. I kiss them. Our last night as a family of five. I savor it.
Ella is still awake, and I ask her if she wants to come and meet her baby sister tomorrow. She looks at me wide eyed. "YES!" I tell her she needs to go to sleep so she can wake up and meet baby Sadie. "Ok, mom" she nods sleepily and snuggles back into her bed.
I dread the car ride because the contractions feel so. much. worse. sitting down. It's just impossible to be comfortable and I want to stand, walk, stretch as I breathe. But here I am on a pile of towels with a garbage bag underneath [just in case my water breaks] and I'm speaking breathlessly between contractions.
"I just don't know if this can be the last time. I've enjoyed every minute. It's been a fabulous pregnancy." I am teary. "I want to do this well. I want to have the emotional and physical resources for these kids. Sometimes I think I can't keep up this pace, but I may have to do this again."
J, who has been fairly vocal about his desire that we consider this being our last pregnancy, says simply, "we can do this again." I rest in those words in that moment and watch the stars twinkle on the lake as we speed past.
I am out for two hours. I just remember black.
I wake up to a breakfast tray with eggs. I eat mechanically. I had a baby. I'm hungry, right?
The nurse urges me to get up and go to the restroom. They need to move me out of the room. It's a popular time to have a baby. Instead of staying in the birthing room, which is what I did at this hospital when I had Ella and Jack. I will move to a recovery room in another wing of the floor.
The pediatrician comes by and begins talking. Fast. Too fast. He's talking about tests and scans and checking for other things. I fight the fear in my throat. What does this mean?
As he leaves, J tentatively explains that the cleft lip and palate are likely indicators of some more serious problems. I scoop Sadie into my arms and cling to her. We will do this. I cry tears of desparation for the first time. How do I do this? What do I do? Sweet Jesus, this is my baby. Help me!
And it creeps in. What did I do wrong? I eat well. I exercise. I take prenatals regularly. Is it stress? Did I do too much with the other kids? Why?
Blame is an ugly monster and it seeps into the corners of the room, accusing me from every angle.
But there is no time to think. They are suddenly helping me into the wheelchair and moving me into the small recovery room.
J leaves to shower and bring the kids back to meet Sadie, and I settle into another bed and convince myself that it's life as usual. I nurse. We snuggle. I read pieces of Psalm 139. Mechanically, I move through the motions.
It's 10 AM and the daytime lactation consultant stops by to see how things are going. She is encouraging and convinces me that I can do this. This baby will nurse. Let's figure it out. She seems unconcerned by the fact that Sadie falls fast asleep after 4 minutes of sucking and calls it a fabulous feeding.
I believe her. This can be normal. This will be normal. This is normal. If I say the words enough they are true.
She leaves and we snuggle.
I call the nurse because I need to use the restroom and there is no one there to be with the baby. A nurse assistant arrives and I lay Sadie down in her basinet on her back and head into the bathroom. As I finish, I hear the familiar sound of the bulb suction. The nurse assistant comments that there is some spit-up and I hear the splat of fluid on the floor.
As I look, I see that Sadie's coloring is off.
She is blue. Why is she blue?
The nurse assistant looks at the baby as if she hasn't even noticed that her skin is absolutely purple.
Breath quickens, pulse pounds, fear is in my throat.
She is blue.
I push the call button. I need a nurse, somebody, anybody. And I whisk Sadie into my arms. She is fighting, struggling to get air and she simply can't. We try to do the suction again, and it seems to help for a moment but then it doesn't.
There are suddenly four nurses in the room, but not one of them is doing anything. They are recovery nurses. They are not from the nursery.
Sadie is fighting. Her eyes are getting wider and wider. Her hair is standing up, and I begin to rub on her chest. Breathe girl. You have to breathe. Come on Sadie. You are a fighter. Do this. You can breathe. She starts to go limp in my arms, and I scream. Inside it's a scream, but all that comes out is a whimper. A pitiful sound.
And then the nursery nurse rushes in, whisks her into the basinet, and quickly moves out of the room. "I'm going to monitor her and we will let you know when we know something."
I just stare at them, still feeling the weight of her absence in my arms and in my heart. The other nurses stare for a moment and then file away.
Sobbing, I call J. No answer. The house. No answer. J's mom. A cheerful good morning and I moan for J. She gets him out of the shower and I hysterically attempt to articulate what just happened. He abandons his plan to bring the kids and rushes back to the hospital. I call my sister and my mom and can barely speak. I hang up the phone and sit, unable to move, on the side of the bed. I realize my gown is still untied from having gone to the bathroom.
20 minutes later, the nursery calls and says Sadie's oxygen levels look great and she's not had any more problems.
30 minutes later J is there and Sadie returns from the nursery shortly after.
As the time approaches to feed her again, I begin to be anxious, very anxious. What if it happens again? We have a pulse ox machine in the room and a monitor on Sadie's foot if she starts to have any problems.
Within moments of her finishing the nursing, she spits up, thick and mucusy, and her color begins to change. We hook her up to the machine and watch her numbers drop as I page the nurse once again. J holds Sadie upright, suctions her nose, and talks her into fighting for her breath. By the time the nurse arrives Sadie's color and oxygen levels are fine.
This continues to happen after she eats, but it gets progressively better. It seems that there was some mucus in her lungs that she simply had to work out but because of the cleft in her palate, she was unable to clear her throat and breathe normally.
By mid-afternoon, we've had an echo confirming a minor heart issue, a chest x-ray that appears normal, and a lot of emotional moments.
As the kids arrive around dinner time, I am so puffy and spent from crying that it hurts my eyes to smile. J prepares them for the reality that Sadie will not look the way they are expecting.
I am nervous, and a new wave of grief washes over. I am so excited that Ella has a sister, but now things are different. Will they relate? Will Ella be embarassed that Sadie is different? It is a death of sorts. A death of the ideal. An ideal that isn't really real anyways, but one that I cannot avoid confronting.
We are quite a crew smashed in our tiny hospital room. Smiling through the swollen faces and tired eyes of a new normal.
Ella simply wants to hold the baby, immediately.
As I read, I found myself sobbing, weeping, overcome at the raw and deep wound that it spoke to in my own heart. She put words to so many of the pains that I felt and experienced with Sadie's birth, an event buried somewhere beneath the reality of the last few months.
I feel as though I have been living in "reaction" mode since the discovery of the cyst on Sadie's lung back in October. It's one of those ocean experiences where I think that my feet are anchored, but as another wave comes rushing at me, I realize the sand mocks me and shifts underneath, leaving me unsteady and overwhelmed once again.
As I read Kelle's story, I was a bit ashamed. Ashamed that I pushed away the experience of those moments. Angry that I have not unpacked those emotions and those memories. Afraid of what would happen if I really felt the pain of those days in the hospital. I do not know how she managed to write so articulately a week after her experience!
I am tempted to simply post the link to her story and to encourage you to go there and read [with a box of tissues] and just kind of say ditto to her story. BUT I know that's just another easy way out. It's time to really process my experience and how it rocked me and my safe little world. And ultimately how it brought me, broken and bruised, back to the cross over and over again.
At this point, I'm not sure if I will publish this post or if it will sit in my drafts. If I do post it, be glad you're reading it now because it may not be here for long.
It's Monday, November 23, and I have my 38 week appointment with the OB. I am technically 38 weeks on Wednesday, but it's close enough :) J's mom is here and we've had a great weekend of eating and relaxing, so it's starting to feel like it's baby time. Unfortunately, I don't feel like I'm even close to labor. I'm comfortable, sleeping well, and full of energy. I was 3 cm or so a week prior so I'm hoping that I've come a little further since my previous appointment, but I don't want to get my hopes up.
I get the kids settled for naps, and head over for my appointment and a few quick errands. It's a beautifully mild November day, and I rub my belly and let Sadie know that it would be a great day to be born.
The doctor confirms that I'm now at 4 cm and beginning to efface. It's good news, but she doesn't seem all that confident that labor will happen any time soon.
"I'm not sure I'll see you before Thanksgiving," she says as she's heading out of the room. "Guess we'll see."
I dress slowly, feeling discouraged that things don't feel imminent.
By the time I get home, the kids are all awake from their naps, and I am determined NOT to stop moving. I'm going to let gravity do as much work as possible to help me get this baby OUT!
So we decide to take a nice long walk around the neighborhood before Daddy gets home. When I look at this picture, I feel the laughter of that moment.
It is so mild that we don't even need jackets, and we linger on the sidewalk snapping pictures and looking for dandelions and wishes. I wish to meet this precious little girl rolling around in my belly. 
After our walk, I busy myself making dinner. I cannot for the life of me remember what I prepared that night. We welcome daddy home from work with giggles and hugs and lots of snuggles. As I clear the table after dinner, I feel a familiar little tingle, and casually glance at the clock. I'm excited and pat my belly, "good girl." Seven minutes later another slight pain, and I smile.
Now the kids are in bed, and every five minutes I take a deep breath. I text my mom and sister to let them know things may be getting started, but I don't say anything to J or his mom. I certainly don't want to sound the alarm before I know this is really it.
I start packing for the hospital and doing a few last minute things in our room. By 9 PM, I am taking pause about every three minutes, so I venture into the study.
"Babe, is there anything you want to do before we head to the hospital?"
He looks at me, surprised.
"Looks like we're going to have a baby tonight."
"Well, I guess I'd better get in the shower."
I laugh and he hustles off to the shower as I let his mom know we're going to head out pretty soon. Then, I begin the official it's time phone calls.
As I talk to my brother, I have an especially strong contraction as he says, "wow, that is so exciting!"
"It's exciting for you because you're not about to push a watermelon out of your bottom!" I exhale.
He laughs.
My water hasn't broken so I have time, but I know this is it. I walk in to the kid's rooms. I breathe in their sleeping smells. I touch their hair. I pray. I kiss them. Our last night as a family of five. I savor it.
Ella is still awake, and I ask her if she wants to come and meet her baby sister tomorrow. She looks at me wide eyed. "YES!" I tell her she needs to go to sleep so she can wake up and meet baby Sadie. "Ok, mom" she nods sleepily and snuggles back into her bed.
I dread the car ride because the contractions feel so. much. worse. sitting down. It's just impossible to be comfortable and I want to stand, walk, stretch as I breathe. But here I am on a pile of towels with a garbage bag underneath [just in case my water breaks] and I'm speaking breathlessly between contractions.
"I just don't know if this can be the last time. I've enjoyed every minute. It's been a fabulous pregnancy." I am teary. "I want to do this well. I want to have the emotional and physical resources for these kids. Sometimes I think I can't keep up this pace, but I may have to do this again."
J, who has been fairly vocal about his desire that we consider this being our last pregnancy, says simply, "we can do this again." I rest in those words in that moment and watch the stars twinkle on the lake as we speed past.
And just like that it is 11 PM and I am almost giddy at the hospital. We are smiling, laughing, skyping, texting, and soaking in one another's company.
Time passes, and I am tired. It's almost midnight, and I can't seem to make it past 9 cm. The nurse keeps checking, asking if I feel the urge to push, and I start to deflate.
I try to rest, but I am restless.
Be still.
But I cannot be still. It's in that moment that I start to think about what this experience could have been like. We feared a high-risk birth. An induction. A planned c-section. A baby that would be whisked away to the NICU.
And here I am, laboring on my own, waiting for my sweet little girl, and trying to soak up the experience of every moment.
Sadie Bess.
My arms just ache for her in this moment. She's the only one that has a name before her birth. She's special that way.
We knew when we found out it was a girl that we wanted to honor J's granny, Bessie, in some way. We hoped to use it as a first name, but we just could not come up with the right first name/middle name combination. As I was discussing names will Ella one day, I began listing off some of our current favorites:
Mae-"Oh, that's nice, I like that."
Bess?-she looked me square in the eye-"No, she cannot be baby Bess!"
Hmm, what about Sadie?-"That's her name! She's baby Sadie; that is her name!"
Well, we don't know her name yet. What do you think about Katie?-"You are silly mom. Her name is Sadie, baby Sadie!"
I explained to her that we had not officially decided on the name at that point and that mommy and daddy were the ones to name her sister. But from that point on, she would only refer to her new sister as Sadie.
Sadie Bess it is. God's princess.
By 1 AM it is time to push. I am still feeling extraordinarily tired. Even the adrenaline of that moment can't seem to give me the edge I need.
I push and it is difficult. She simply is not coming as quickly as I think she should. After 20 minutes, I take a deep breath and bear down hard. With a little pop, she shoots out and the doctor says, "stop, no more pushing!" Her presentation is face up so it was a more difficult trip down the birthing canal.
I relax and lay my head back listen for the familiar first cry. There it is. I hear that sweet wail and I see a little pink fist in the air.
And then, from seemingly far away, "it looks like there's a cleft lip and palate that was missed on the ultrasound, but other than that she looks great."
I exhale. There were some words. What were those words? I will my mind to try and understand what this means.
J is pale
The nurse wipes Sadie off, wraps her up, and lays her on my chest.
I can't really look at her face. I just kept wiping her forehead and rubbing the top of her head. For the first time, I don't really know what to do with my baby. I just don't know what to do. I know I kiss her at some point, and I talk to her, although I cannot remember what I say.
She's pink; she's screaming; she's in our arms. We didn't know if we would have this moment.
"Oh, Em," J says tenderly, and his voice breaks.
But she's here; she's okay; she can cry; she can breathe.
The nurse takes Sadie and begins her routine.
I just feel so tired.
"You have a clot here," says the doc, "looks like a small abruption, a tear at your placenta. There's some blood, but it looks like it will be okay."
I can't feel anything. I'm numb and my mouth is full of tongue. The nurses shift their eyes and comment nervously about all the hair on Sadie's head as they mechanically move through their tasks.
Suddenly I'm sitting up, and the nurse props Sadie up in my arms. I kiss her, smell her, snuggle her into my chest, willing this moment to be as normal as possible. Convincing myself that this this is normal, a cleft lip and palate don't matter.
"Are you going to nurse, babe?" asks J.
"Oh, yeah, of course," I stammer, embarrassed that I didn't think of it, and I start to unsnap my gown.
"I'm afraid you won't be able to nurse" says the delivery nurse who is suddenly the only one left.
I feel something inside me shatter in that moment. "What?" I manage to whisper.
A moment later the on call lactation consultant comes in to assist us and encourages me to try. "Of course you can nurse. Let's give it a try."
I am relieved. Desperate in that moment for something normal. Sadie is happy to suck and with a little manuevering, I am able to create enough suction for it to look and feel like she is really doing it.
It's now well after 2 AM and we are exhausted. How do we communicate what is going on with family? friends? those waiting and praying for us? I defaulted to J in that moment and snuggle into my bed. It felt so different only two hours before. So comfortable and familiar. Now it mocks me. I am tired.
We are all tired.
I am out for two hours. I just remember black.
I wake up to a breakfast tray with eggs. I eat mechanically. I had a baby. I'm hungry, right?
The nurse urges me to get up and go to the restroom. They need to move me out of the room. It's a popular time to have a baby. Instead of staying in the birthing room, which is what I did at this hospital when I had Ella and Jack. I will move to a recovery room in another wing of the floor.
The pediatrician comes by and begins talking. Fast. Too fast. He's talking about tests and scans and checking for other things. I fight the fear in my throat. What does this mean?
As he leaves, J tentatively explains that the cleft lip and palate are likely indicators of some more serious problems. I scoop Sadie into my arms and cling to her. We will do this. I cry tears of desparation for the first time. How do I do this? What do I do? Sweet Jesus, this is my baby. Help me!
And it creeps in. What did I do wrong? I eat well. I exercise. I take prenatals regularly. Is it stress? Did I do too much with the other kids? Why?
Blame is an ugly monster and it seeps into the corners of the room, accusing me from every angle.
But there is no time to think. They are suddenly helping me into the wheelchair and moving me into the small recovery room.
J leaves to shower and bring the kids back to meet Sadie, and I settle into another bed and convince myself that it's life as usual. I nurse. We snuggle. I read pieces of Psalm 139. Mechanically, I move through the motions.
It's 10 AM and the daytime lactation consultant stops by to see how things are going. She is encouraging and convinces me that I can do this. This baby will nurse. Let's figure it out. She seems unconcerned by the fact that Sadie falls fast asleep after 4 minutes of sucking and calls it a fabulous feeding.
I believe her. This can be normal. This will be normal. This is normal. If I say the words enough they are true.
She leaves and we snuggle.
I call the nurse because I need to use the restroom and there is no one there to be with the baby. A nurse assistant arrives and I lay Sadie down in her basinet on her back and head into the bathroom. As I finish, I hear the familiar sound of the bulb suction. The nurse assistant comments that there is some spit-up and I hear the splat of fluid on the floor.
As I look, I see that Sadie's coloring is off.
She is blue. Why is she blue?
The nurse assistant looks at the baby as if she hasn't even noticed that her skin is absolutely purple.
Breath quickens, pulse pounds, fear is in my throat.
She is blue.
I push the call button. I need a nurse, somebody, anybody. And I whisk Sadie into my arms. She is fighting, struggling to get air and she simply can't. We try to do the suction again, and it seems to help for a moment but then it doesn't.
There are suddenly four nurses in the room, but not one of them is doing anything. They are recovery nurses. They are not from the nursery.
Sadie is fighting. Her eyes are getting wider and wider. Her hair is standing up, and I begin to rub on her chest. Breathe girl. You have to breathe. Come on Sadie. You are a fighter. Do this. You can breathe. She starts to go limp in my arms, and I scream. Inside it's a scream, but all that comes out is a whimper. A pitiful sound.
And then the nursery nurse rushes in, whisks her into the basinet, and quickly moves out of the room. "I'm going to monitor her and we will let you know when we know something."
I just stare at them, still feeling the weight of her absence in my arms and in my heart. The other nurses stare for a moment and then file away.
Sobbing, I call J. No answer. The house. No answer. J's mom. A cheerful good morning and I moan for J. She gets him out of the shower and I hysterically attempt to articulate what just happened. He abandons his plan to bring the kids and rushes back to the hospital. I call my sister and my mom and can barely speak. I hang up the phone and sit, unable to move, on the side of the bed. I realize my gown is still untied from having gone to the bathroom.
20 minutes later, the nursery calls and says Sadie's oxygen levels look great and she's not had any more problems.
30 minutes later J is there and Sadie returns from the nursery shortly after.
As the time approaches to feed her again, I begin to be anxious, very anxious. What if it happens again? We have a pulse ox machine in the room and a monitor on Sadie's foot if she starts to have any problems.
Within moments of her finishing the nursing, she spits up, thick and mucusy, and her color begins to change. We hook her up to the machine and watch her numbers drop as I page the nurse once again. J holds Sadie upright, suctions her nose, and talks her into fighting for her breath. By the time the nurse arrives Sadie's color and oxygen levels are fine.
This continues to happen after she eats, but it gets progressively better. It seems that there was some mucus in her lungs that she simply had to work out but because of the cleft in her palate, she was unable to clear her throat and breathe normally.
By mid-afternoon, we've had an echo confirming a minor heart issue, a chest x-ray that appears normal, and a lot of emotional moments.
As the kids arrive around dinner time, I am so puffy and spent from crying that it hurts my eyes to smile. J prepares them for the reality that Sadie will not look the way they are expecting.
I am nervous, and a new wave of grief washes over. I am so excited that Ella has a sister, but now things are different. Will they relate? Will Ella be embarassed that Sadie is different? It is a death of sorts. A death of the ideal. An ideal that isn't really real anyways, but one that I cannot avoid confronting.
We are quite a crew smashed in our tiny hospital room. Smiling through the swollen faces and tired eyes of a new normal.
Ella simply wants to hold the baby, immediately.
She does take a moment to check things out and attempt to figure out what is different and why.
But she is absolutely elated. In love with her new sister Sadie. So excited that she cannot stop giggling. 
It is not until we are home the next day and settling into a new routine that I realize there is not a single picture of me and Sadie. I pull J aside. You need to take a picture of me with Sadie.
I need a picture of me and my peanut.
Friday, March 26
saying goodbye...
We received the sad news the other evening that J's grandmom passed away, and the funeral will be Monday. This was J's last living grandparent, so it's hard news to hear. We are rejoicing that she is now at peace in Heaven, but we miss enjoying her here.
It's so strange to think that it was almost exactly a year ago that we spent the weekend at her house when we spent our time in DC. I am so glad we made the drive up to New Jersey for that time with her.
She was an impeccable hostess and served us so well. It was just in the last few months that her health really deteriorated and she was unable to live on her own and care for herself.
She was quite a woman. She actually rode with my father-in-law and brother-in-law when they helped us drive all our stuff to our first apartment in Virginia and get settled there. I laugh when I think about the two of us putting together the entertainment center that J and I had for a number of years. She will be missed.
It's so strange to think that it was almost exactly a year ago that we spent the weekend at her house when we spent our time in DC. I am so glad we made the drive up to New Jersey for that time with her.
She was an impeccable hostess and served us so well. It was just in the last few months that her health really deteriorated and she was unable to live on her own and care for herself.
She was quite a woman. She actually rode with my father-in-law and brother-in-law when they helped us drive all our stuff to our first apartment in Virginia and get settled there. I laugh when I think about the two of us putting together the entertainment center that J and I had for a number of years. She will be missed.
Jack was especially thrilled with her napkin holder and enjoyed playing games with her at the breakfast table.
Ella and her bed head enjoying some time on Grandmom's lap.
Bo found a place to snuggle as well.
I am sad that Grandmom was not able to meet Sadie, but look forward to introducing them one day.
We miss you Grandmom!
Tuesday, March 23
breathe
Yesterday, the for sale sign went up in the yard. Despite the fact that the snow this weekend kept us from doing the work we had planned in the front flower beds, we are officially on the market.
Today was sheer madness as we had two showings between 4 PM and 6 PM. I'm certainly not complaining because if people don't look at the house, then they certainly can't purchase it. However, leaving a spotless house during what is often the most chaotic part of the day was honestly a little overwhelming.
I guess I just can't believe that we're really going to sell this place and move from here. I'd better get used to the idea pretty quick!
Today was sheer madness as we had two showings between 4 PM and 6 PM. I'm certainly not complaining because if people don't look at the house, then they certainly can't purchase it. However, leaving a spotless house during what is often the most chaotic part of the day was honestly a little overwhelming.
I guess I just can't believe that we're really going to sell this place and move from here. I'd better get used to the idea pretty quick!
Saturday, March 20
Uncle Kevin
It wasn't too long ago that we started to notice that the hot water was really hot. J and I both commented on it several times, but kept forgetting to turn the water heater down. It was really only bad in the kitchen, which is close to the hot water heater so it kept escaping our attention.
Then, on Thursday, the bug guy was here to spray. He mentioned that there was some water in the pan under our hot water heater and suggested we have someone look at it. He knows we are days away from putting our house on the market and he said we would want to have it checked out before we attempted to do a home inspection.
J did some research and found that often hot water heaters will leak if the temp is up too high. We decided that's what it was and he said he would take care of it after work Thursday.
Well, there was actually quite a bit of water in the pan AND it was dripping. Prognosis negative. J took one look and was quick to come to the conclusion that it would have to be replaced. He turned off the hot water at that point so it would not continue to drip.
The plumber came to check it out late yesterday and confirmed it needed to be fixed. He was back around 10 AM this morning to get the job done.
And for the small fee of...well, let's just say he worked for 5 hours on a Saturday, replaced the water heater, and got the plumbing in the small closet up to code...it was a good day to be a plumber!
J is super handy and it killed him to pay someone else to do the job, but the fact that he was able to study for most of the day and still enjoy dinner and some play time with us was definitely a plus.
And considering it was absolutely freezing today, snowing, and he did most of the work in the garage, which might as well have been outside, I'd say it was worth it. That and I haven't had a shower since Wednesday, so it will definitely be worth it for a hot one!
The funniest thing is that the man's last name is Evans, and Ella kept thinking that we were referring to him as Uncle Kevin. She kept asking if she could go in and talk to Uncle Kevin and see what he was doing. I'd like to think he was flattered by the mix up!
Then, on Thursday, the bug guy was here to spray. He mentioned that there was some water in the pan under our hot water heater and suggested we have someone look at it. He knows we are days away from putting our house on the market and he said we would want to have it checked out before we attempted to do a home inspection.
J did some research and found that often hot water heaters will leak if the temp is up too high. We decided that's what it was and he said he would take care of it after work Thursday.
Well, there was actually quite a bit of water in the pan AND it was dripping. Prognosis negative. J took one look and was quick to come to the conclusion that it would have to be replaced. He turned off the hot water at that point so it would not continue to drip.
The plumber came to check it out late yesterday and confirmed it needed to be fixed. He was back around 10 AM this morning to get the job done.
And for the small fee of...well, let's just say he worked for 5 hours on a Saturday, replaced the water heater, and got the plumbing in the small closet up to code...it was a good day to be a plumber!
J is super handy and it killed him to pay someone else to do the job, but the fact that he was able to study for most of the day and still enjoy dinner and some play time with us was definitely a plus.
And considering it was absolutely freezing today, snowing, and he did most of the work in the garage, which might as well have been outside, I'd say it was worth it. That and I haven't had a shower since Wednesday, so it will definitely be worth it for a hot one!
The funniest thing is that the man's last name is Evans, and Ella kept thinking that we were referring to him as Uncle Kevin. She kept asking if she could go in and talk to Uncle Kevin and see what he was doing. I'd like to think he was flattered by the mix up!
Friday, March 19
Still here
I keep sitting down to post, and for some reason I just can't seem to get the words to come out the way I want them to. I've started and deleted a post just about every day!
My hands have been full this week as we've finished cleaning and staging this house. We met with a few realtors and plan to list the house Monday. Whew! There's a lot of physical aspects there, but it also carries an emotional burden that I wasn't really expecting. My heart has felt a little heavy honestly at the thought of packing it all up and moving many states away. It's a paradox because I am so excited for the new experience and for the end of J's residency, but it's overwhelming to think about all that has to happen to get from A to B.
Sadie is now awake and calling for her bottle, but I hope to post more later...just wanted to you know I'm still here :)
My hands have been full this week as we've finished cleaning and staging this house. We met with a few realtors and plan to list the house Monday. Whew! There's a lot of physical aspects there, but it also carries an emotional burden that I wasn't really expecting. My heart has felt a little heavy honestly at the thought of packing it all up and moving many states away. It's a paradox because I am so excited for the new experience and for the end of J's residency, but it's overwhelming to think about all that has to happen to get from A to B.
Sadie is now awake and calling for her bottle, but I hope to post more later...just wanted to you know I'm still here :)
Monday, March 15
man of the house
I've not wanted to advertise that I was here by myself these past few weeks, but J had back-to-back board review conferences that basically meant I've been solo parenting for a good little bit here.
For the first conference I had the absolute chaos of family fun to distract me, but this last week it's been just me and the kiddos.
Tuesday morning I really almost thought I wasn't going to make it through on my own. Sadie went on a hunger strike and ate less than 24 ounces in 48 hours. And it took hours of fighting with her to get those 24 ounces down. I'm working on getting a feeding post up here...sometimes it's rough, really rough.
Wednesday was a much better day with Sadie, and Wednesday evening, it became a little clearer why I had been so emotional, overwhelmed and grumpy. And no, I am not pregnant. I am, in fact, the opposite of pregnant. I won't be any more specific than that, but it was nice to feel like there was a reason things had felt out of control for me.
Anyways, before J left, he asked Bo if he would please be the man of the house during daddy's time out of town.
Bo was all over it!
He even informed me that I should get my bed ready for him because the man of the house needed to sleep in mommy and daddy's room. I laughed and told him that he could be the man of the house from his own room.
He even made up a song about it:
Man of the house.
Man of the house.
I am the man of the house.
I am the man of the house until Monday.
And that's the truth!
It was cracking me up!
We were all so excited to have daddy home that he didn't mind giving up his role as man of the house today.
He still seems so little to me until I see him with his cousins.
They grow up too fast!
For the first conference I had the absolute chaos of family fun to distract me, but this last week it's been just me and the kiddos.
Tuesday morning I really almost thought I wasn't going to make it through on my own. Sadie went on a hunger strike and ate less than 24 ounces in 48 hours. And it took hours of fighting with her to get those 24 ounces down. I'm working on getting a feeding post up here...sometimes it's rough, really rough.
Wednesday was a much better day with Sadie, and Wednesday evening, it became a little clearer why I had been so emotional, overwhelmed and grumpy. And no, I am not pregnant. I am, in fact, the opposite of pregnant. I won't be any more specific than that, but it was nice to feel like there was a reason things had felt out of control for me.
Anyways, before J left, he asked Bo if he would please be the man of the house during daddy's time out of town.
Bo was all over it!
He even informed me that I should get my bed ready for him because the man of the house needed to sleep in mommy and daddy's room. I laughed and told him that he could be the man of the house from his own room.
He even made up a song about it:
Man of the house.
Man of the house.
I am the man of the house.
I am the man of the house until Monday.
And that's the truth!
It was cracking me up!
We were all so excited to have daddy home that he didn't mind giving up his role as man of the house today.
He still seems so little to me until I see him with his cousins.
They grow up too fast!
Friday, March 12
Can you see it?
As Sadie's hair gets longer and longer, we've noticed that the roots seem to be a good deal lighter than the rest of her hair. It's typically not all that obvious and I rarely notice it unless I'm playing with her hair or bathing her.
Today, I put her in this purple headband, and how about those blonde roots?
At first I thought it was just the way the light was hitting her hair in the seat, but then I realized that her tips are actually dark!
I have a friend and her daughter's hair did pretty much the same thing, so I guess maybe it's not as unusual as it seems. Looks like the jury is still out on whether or not Sadie will be a blonde.
AND I'm still not sure about her eyes. They are still fairly blue, but it's a navy blue almost. Ella's eyes were that way for a looooong time and they are now officially brown.
Sadie is just full of surprises!
Today, I put her in this purple headband, and how about those blonde roots?
At first I thought it was just the way the light was hitting her hair in the seat, but then I realized that her tips are actually dark!
I have a friend and her daughter's hair did pretty much the same thing, so I guess maybe it's not as unusual as it seems. Looks like the jury is still out on whether or not Sadie will be a blonde.
AND I'm still not sure about her eyes. They are still fairly blue, but it's a navy blue almost. Ella's eyes were that way for a looooong time and they are now officially brown.
Sadie is just full of surprises!
Wednesday, March 10
I'm in big trouble
This evening as we were enjoying some playtime after dinner, Bo decided it was time for a pop quiz:
"Mom, do all plants come from seeds?"
"Umm, yes, I think so Bo. Plants grow from seeds."
"No, mom, you're wrong."
"Really Bo? I'm pretty sure you need seeds for things to grow."
"No, mom, strawberry plants can grow with just the right combination of side shoots, sun, and water. They don't even need seeds! Did you know that?"
"No Bo, no, I did not."
"Well, now you know. Do you think you could remember it for the rest of your life?"
This discussion led me to ask a few more questions about how Bo knew this information. He gladly rummaged through a pile of books and brought me his copy of I Wonder Why Trees Have Leaves.
The funny thing about this particular book is that it was a present from his Aunt Maggie last week. I use the term present loosely because it was actually the "toy" that came in the kid's meal she ordered from Chick-Fil-A. My sister Sarah brought Bo this cool magnetic robot pieces that come together to create all sorts of cool robot creatures, so Maggie jumped on the bandwagon and told Bo she had a little something for him too.
He looked at the book and got so excited. "Hey, it says it comes with a free kid's meal...where's my kid's meal?"
Needless to say, we all got a big kick out of that one and Maggie explained that the book was for him but there was no kid's meal. His disappointment was short lived as the book has been full of questions and answers that keep him reading.
So, at my request, he handed me the book and I learned a thing or two about strawberry plants. Apparently, they don't have to have seeds to reproduce. Let's just say it's complicated.
First of all, it's crazy to me that the boy can read the thing.
AND he actually understands what he's reading.
THEN he remembers it and EXPLAINS it to me.
It's unbelievable!
I'm pretty sure he's smarter than me, and he's only five!
This is the same kid who had a complete meltdown tonight when he had to pick up the train pieces scattered around the den. He apparently had them laid out for some elaborate track system he was planning to build tomorrow and the thought of destroying the plan was just too overwhelming.
He didn't seem to care that I felt unsure in my ability to navigate the maze of train pieces when I get up to make Sadie's early morning bottle.
At least he still acts his age!
"Mom, do all plants come from seeds?"
"Umm, yes, I think so Bo. Plants grow from seeds."
"No, mom, you're wrong."
"Really Bo? I'm pretty sure you need seeds for things to grow."
"No, mom, strawberry plants can grow with just the right combination of side shoots, sun, and water. They don't even need seeds! Did you know that?"
"No Bo, no, I did not."
"Well, now you know. Do you think you could remember it for the rest of your life?"
This discussion led me to ask a few more questions about how Bo knew this information. He gladly rummaged through a pile of books and brought me his copy of I Wonder Why Trees Have Leaves.
The funny thing about this particular book is that it was a present from his Aunt Maggie last week. I use the term present loosely because it was actually the "toy" that came in the kid's meal she ordered from Chick-Fil-A. My sister Sarah brought Bo this cool magnetic robot pieces that come together to create all sorts of cool robot creatures, so Maggie jumped on the bandwagon and told Bo she had a little something for him too.
He looked at the book and got so excited. "Hey, it says it comes with a free kid's meal...where's my kid's meal?"
Needless to say, we all got a big kick out of that one and Maggie explained that the book was for him but there was no kid's meal. His disappointment was short lived as the book has been full of questions and answers that keep him reading.
So, at my request, he handed me the book and I learned a thing or two about strawberry plants. Apparently, they don't have to have seeds to reproduce. Let's just say it's complicated.
First of all, it's crazy to me that the boy can read the thing.
AND he actually understands what he's reading.
THEN he remembers it and EXPLAINS it to me.
It's unbelievable!
I'm pretty sure he's smarter than me, and he's only five!
This is the same kid who had a complete meltdown tonight when he had to pick up the train pieces scattered around the den. He apparently had them laid out for some elaborate track system he was planning to build tomorrow and the thought of destroying the plan was just too overwhelming.
He didn't seem to care that I felt unsure in my ability to navigate the maze of train pieces when I get up to make Sadie's early morning bottle.
At least he still acts his age!
Why can't I just do this already?
I keep sitting down to try and write something, anything, about our time last week, and the words just fail me. For those of you who know me, it's pretty rare that I have little to say :)
I could blame it on the nasty head cold that followed my lovely stomach bug or on the ever-growing list of tasks that I'm working on as we get ready to put our hose on the market in a few days, but thosee would just be excuses.
The reality is that I just can hardly even get my head around the experience. There's so much I want to say and so many pictures!! Growing up, when I would get overwhelmed by a project or a task, my mom would always remind me not to try and eat the whole elephant at once. It was her way of encouraging me to to break the big overwhelming thing down into manageable parts.
So instead of stalling, I'm just going to post a bunch of pictures and try to touch on the amazingness that was last week. If I fail, at least you can skip over my lame words and just look at the pictures :)
I could blame it on the nasty head cold that followed my lovely stomach bug or on the ever-growing list of tasks that I'm working on as we get ready to put our hose on the market in a few days, but thosee would just be excuses.
The reality is that I just can hardly even get my head around the experience. There's so much I want to say and so many pictures!! Growing up, when I would get overwhelmed by a project or a task, my mom would always remind me not to try and eat the whole elephant at once. It was her way of encouraging me to to break the big overwhelming thing down into manageable parts.
So instead of stalling, I'm just going to post a bunch of pictures and try to touch on the amazingness that was last week. If I fail, at least you can skip over my lame words and just look at the pictures :)
it's the moments
the every dayness of it all
times around the table
and giggles in the kitchen
running errands together
and grabbing a bite of lunch
hanging out together and keeping it casual
and celebrating some of life's biggest moments
playing with new toys
and skyping with those who are not here
the spontaneous photo shoots
photo shoots that yield pure joy
real life
and utter delight
It's just being...
There is no substitute for doing life with those you love!
Tuesday, March 9
Who's coming this week?
Bo asked this morning who was coming this week to hang out with us. After a week of cousin and aunt fun, he is looking forward to the next set of visitors!
I can't blame him for missing them and the constant entertainment. I love these pictures I disovered today of my kids with Aunt Emily and Bradford skyping with my brother Andy.
I can't blame him for missing them and the constant entertainment. I love these pictures I disovered today of my kids with Aunt Emily and Bradford skyping with my brother Andy.
Non-stop fun!
Monday, March 8
Monday, Monday
I'm short on words today as I'm trying to sort through pictures and get things done. One of the main reasons that all of festivities took place last week was because J had a conference out of town. We spent most of the weekend enjoying the return of daddy, so now I'm busy playing catching up on some long neglected tasks.
And I keep finding precious gems like this amidst the 1000 photos I'm sorting through...
Hopefully there will be more to come as I get my act together here!
And I keep finding precious gems like this amidst the 1000 photos I'm sorting through...
Hopefully there will be more to come as I get my act together here!
Friday, March 5
Quiet
It's amazing how quiet this house feels right now with only four children and two adults. Kind of makes me giggle to think we had double that just a few short hours ago!
I felt like the fun kicked into high gear on Tuesday night when Gigi got here and that's been one of the reasons that there haven't been many updates on the fun.
Emily and Bradford headed back to Uncle Andy yesterday afternoon. Emily is amazing, and it was such a blessing to see her mother Bradford. That little man is adorable, and I felt like I watched him change every day before my very eyes. He smiled more each day and held his head up a little stronger every time. I know Emily loves being a mom and her enjoyment of the experience is evident in how she loves on little Bradford and in the way she treated my kids as well.
Sarah and Maggie are on the plane now headed back to Uncle Stephen and [soon to be] Uncle Justin with some seriously adorable twinsness. It's amazing the attention that a set of twins can draw. They are getting so big with their eating solids and laughing hysterically. It's pure bliss to see those in action and to see Sarah with her arms [and heart] full of babes.
I decided to cap off the week with a lovely stomach virus that had me with my head in the toilet for most of the night. Thanks to lots of extra hands, I was able to rest for most of the morning and I'm now recovering with some toast and powerade.
It's sad to see everyone leave, but also so exciting to think that we will all be together again in a few short weeks for Maggie's wedding!
So here's to the...
109 nursings/bottles
23 meals
21 loads of laundry
200 [or so] dirty diapers
2 outings with all the cousins
800 pictures taken by Aunt Sarah
300 pictures taken by Emily
hundreds of pictures taken by Aunt Emily
...and all the priceless memories!
I felt like the fun kicked into high gear on Tuesday night when Gigi got here and that's been one of the reasons that there haven't been many updates on the fun.
Emily and Bradford headed back to Uncle Andy yesterday afternoon. Emily is amazing, and it was such a blessing to see her mother Bradford. That little man is adorable, and I felt like I watched him change every day before my very eyes. He smiled more each day and held his head up a little stronger every time. I know Emily loves being a mom and her enjoyment of the experience is evident in how she loves on little Bradford and in the way she treated my kids as well.
Sarah and Maggie are on the plane now headed back to Uncle Stephen and [soon to be] Uncle Justin with some seriously adorable twinsness. It's amazing the attention that a set of twins can draw. They are getting so big with their eating solids and laughing hysterically. It's pure bliss to see those in action and to see Sarah with her arms [and heart] full of babes.
I decided to cap off the week with a lovely stomach virus that had me with my head in the toilet for most of the night. Thanks to lots of extra hands, I was able to rest for most of the morning and I'm now recovering with some toast and powerade.
It's sad to see everyone leave, but also so exciting to think that we will all be together again in a few short weeks for Maggie's wedding!
So here's to the...
109 nursings/bottles
23 meals
21 loads of laundry
200 [or so] dirty diapers
2 outings with all the cousins
800 pictures taken by Aunt Sarah
300 pictures taken by Emily
hundreds of pictures taken by Aunt Emily
...and all the priceless memories!
Tuesday, March 2
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