a flow of thoughts

flying kites at grandpa's farm // easter sunday

I can’t sleep. Dang it! It so bums me out when this happens. I’m tired, I’m ready for sleep, I want to go to sleep, yet I lay in bed, tossing and turning, and … well, not sleeping. I can count sheep for hours. Do breathing exercise until I’m completely blue in the face. Meditate. Pray. Pretend to sleep. And then look at the clock and reprimand myself for wasting two whole hours only pretending to sleep. I can think about what I’m doing tomorrow, what I did today, what I’m going to make for dinner for the next three weeks and make mental notes of what I need to put on my shopping list. I can mentally balance our checkbook, and answer extremely complicated equations or solve life changing problems. I can even force myself – quite impressively - to go brain-dead and think of absolutely nothing at all. But, no matter how hard I try, I can’t make myself actually fall to sleep. It sucks. I’ve become quite the pro with the non-sleeping thing though (I blame my mother) (love ya, mom), and in all of my non-sleeping nights I’ve learned its best to do something outside of lying there, tossing and turning, trying to force myself to sleep.

So here I am. Not sleeping. What are you up to? Do you have sleep issues too?

This evening was Brynlee’s school art show and auction. She waited in line for over an hour and a half (no joke) to get her caricature drawn. The end product was sort of caricature meets bobble head with really big teeth. It was fun though, and the artist drew her with a hula hoop so that made it automatically cool. But it gave me an idea…

I’ve been so bummed that I didn’t take more pictures of Brynlee on her baptism day. I have maybe five pictures. Three of which are blurry. Parent fail, I suppose. But then tonight, post art show, I decided on having somebody way more talented than I draw a cute custom portrait of Brynlee in her baptismal dress. Something sweet and whimsical. Maybe like this or this. Or maybe this. Fun, right?

And speaking of pictures. I’ve been dreaming of a new camera lately. A real camera. One of the fancy ones with a fancy lens and stuff. I loved my old point-and-shoot camera like something fierce. We were a good match, the two of us. But then it got left at and stolen from Lowes, remember. We replaced it, but I just don’t love my new one. I’ve been getting an itch to learn a thing or two about photography too. Not to take fancy schmancy pictures or anything like that, but to know enough to take decent pictures of my kids. And to know enough to not end up with 3 of 5 baptismal day pictures all blurry and lame. I want to know enough to be able to capture my family living life. Want to teach me?

Spence took me on a date the other night: errands for the Easter Bunny, dinner from Taco Bell’s drive through, and the movie theater for Captain America.  Spence cannot wait for the day that Jace is old enough to watch all manner of superhero movies with him. But until then I’m his superhero movie date. Poor dude. About ten minutes into the show I leaned over and told Spencer that I really wished I would have stayed awake the night before when we watched the first Captain America as a refresher. He laughed and said I made it all of ten minutes! Which was a bold face lie by the way. I made it thirty whole minutes, at least! Maybe forty. And I stayed awake for the entire movie in the theater. So ha, three points for me. Honestly though, I have grown to love me a good superhero movie. Mainly because a) it’s the only kind of movie we ever pay full price to watch at the theater and, b) my boys are superhero fanatics.

Jace lost another tooth. That makes four. Four teeth and the kid is not even in kindergarten yet. He lost the latest one on Easter Sunday. We had gone to church with mom & dad and Jami’s clan and during the middle of sacrament meeting he jumped up, with blood splattered all down his chin, and very enthusiastically hollered to Spencer (who was sitting on the complete opposite side of the pew by the way) that he had lost another tooth.  It was so funny, unexpected and irreverent that none of us could keep from laughing.

Soccer season is in full swing. My tulips are in bloom. Easter weekend was a good one. I have a hair appointment tomorrow. And only four more weeks until schools out! I CAN. NOT. WAIT!

Also, I watched this video and I cried. You will too. I'm gonna read that book. Maybe next time that sleep seems impossible.

A Birth: The Rest

This is the second half of Marlee’s birth story.

To read the first half click here.

I almost didn’t make it to the hospital when I delivered Jace. Truly, I didn’t. I labored at home soaking in our bathtub a bit too long. So long that he was this close to being one of those babies that got delivered by their dad in the back seat of the family car. I had promised myself that this time around I was going to be a better judge of contractions. I wanted to labor at home as long as possible, but I was also more aware that my labor was capable of moving very quickly. I told myself I could soak in the tub just until contractions made me want to swear and then it was time to wake up Spencer and head in the hospitals direction.

I kept my commitment and as soon as my contractions got to the hurts like the dickens level {which is a couple notches above the I hate being a women level and slightly below the I wish I were dead level} I climbed out of the bathtub, woke Spencer, and dressed for the hospital.

When we arrived at the hospital it was 6:30 am and I was at a 6 and 75% effaced.  My advanced laboring state angered the nursing staff.  I’m not even kidding. The hospital was packed {remember how they canceled my induction} and they were overwhelmed with the thought of yet another labor and delivery. “Why does every mother in [our town] have to choose today to have a baby,” one nurse said to another while standing by my bed. Spencer and I rolled our eyes and I breathed my way through another contraction. Excuse me! And sorry for the inconvenience, but like it or not, this baby’s coming!!

The contractions kept getting longer, more intense and less manageable. I knew it wasn’t going to be long.

After some blood work, an IV and a debate over which type of antibiotics I would be given {I was strep B positive, but also allergic to amoxicillin} they asked me if I wanted an epidural. I declined. Because I’m borderline crazy!

I had an epidural when I delivered Brynlee. I think mainly because that was what I thought you were supposed to do. Everybody I knew delivered their babies with epidurals. I mean - why not - it hurts like hell without one. And then with Jace I didn’t have an epidural {because, again, I almost had him in the car…there just wasn’t time for it}. After everything was said and done I decided that I actually liked the epidural free experience better. I wasn’t as tired afterwards, Jace was more alert, I could walk around during and right after labor, I felt like a superhero, and – the best part - I didn’t have to have a huge ole’ needle stuck in my spinal cord {{shudder}}.  I mean, there are definite benefits to an epidural – like, you know, PAIN RELIEF, but I was determined to deliver without one. I had done it before, I could do it again.

So anyways, I declined the epidural.

The nurse came back in a little while later to check me - I was at an eight – and she told me that she was going to call Doctor Cox in to break my water. I agreed, but asked if I could have some sort of pain medication to take the edge off before he did. I knew that after my water was broke the already dreadful contractions would only intensify. Up to this point I had had no pain relief (unless you count the two Tylenol that I had taken at 4:00 in the morning for the pounding headache) and I was now at the I wish I were dead level and wanted some kind of something to dull the pain a bit.

Her response – are you ready for this - they didn’t have anything! NO FOOLIN’! The HOSPITAL didn’t have ANYTHING!?  Say what?  No narcotics. Are you kidding me? Then call in a local drug dealer, exchange all my belongings for a dosage of Demerol, sell my soul for some Nubain…I didn’t care how I got it, I just wanted SOMETHING.

She mumbled on about some sort of drug shortage something or another and how they had used their limited supply and didn’t have anything available {I’m not making this stuff up you guys} and then she called in Dr. Cox to break my water and left the room.

Spencer tried to comfort me.

Just as I expected, my contractions continued to intensify. I went from an I wish I were dead level to a please, kill me level quickly. It hurt. A lot! I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream and most definitely couldn’t control the pain enough to have a baby! And then shortly after I reached that dark place where I was certain I was going to die Marlee Danielle was born.

After nine months of misery, I’d found the cure. She was beautiful, healthy, and came out screaming. And suddenly every.single.bit.of.it was totally worth it. The puking, the nausea, the maternity clothes, the puking, the downiness, the cravings, the weight gain, the puking, the delivering a baby on Tylenol alone! All of it, worth it.  

And life with baby Marlee at our house is just as sweet as can be.

*Marlee was born two days before her due date, on June 12, 2012 at 10:08 am.

*She shares a birthday with her Great Grandpa Jess.

*She was delivered by Dr. Cox. The same doctor that delivered Brynlee and Jace.

*She is named after her daddy: Daniel Spencer.

*Her Birth Stats: 7 pounds 8 ounces // 21 inches.

A Birth: The Beginning

When my doctor told me at my 35 week appointment that I was dilated to a 3 and 25% effaced I just assumed that baby #3 would make her appearance by my 37^th week of pregnancy. I mean, why wouldn’t she? Brynlee came during the 37^th week, and Jace too. But then my 37^th week came and went. And so did the 38^th. By the start of my 39^th week I started to think that I just might spend the rest of my life in this pregnant state of being. It was a scary thought.

It was three days before my due date. June 11, 2012. Jami and her kids had come to stay for a day or two so our girls could attend cheer camp.

That Monday the girls spent the afternoon at the camp, the rest of us went to lunch, ran errands and then Jami watched the kids while I hit up my doctor’s appointment. My doctor checked me - I was still at a 3 and 25% effaced; four and a half weeks and no real change. At the appointment the doctor ordered a stress test due to decreased fetal movement and then it was decided that due to less movement I would be induced later that same evening.

I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to comfort myself. I didn’t want to be induced; I’ve always felt that that sort of thing should just happen naturally. But maybe an induction is for the best I would tell myself. Jami’s here to watch the kids. The baby’s movement has decreased. I am already at a 3 and 25 it’s not like labor hasn’t already started. Plus, what if she never comes out of there otherwise. Now that would suck.

I went home and did last minute preparations for a hospital stay. Spencer took the week off work. And we planned for a baby.

At five o’clock that evening I called the hospital just as I was supposed to. Don’t come in yet they told me and they promised that they would call me back shortly. So I waited.  About an hour later they called back. The hospital was overloaded with laboring mamas and there wasn’t room for another induction. They rescheduled for two days later and I hung up the phone relieved, yet disappointed. It wasn’t baby day after all.

That night we walked to the park. Spencer, Brooke and Brynlee rode their bikes, Jami pushed Zayne and Jace in the stroller, and I curb walked because my sister-in-law told me it induced labor. I had been having contractions all day, but nothing major, and nothing different than the last few weeks. Jami told me that she thought the baby had dropped even lower than she was earlier that day and then she massaged my pregnant belly telling the baby to get the crap out of there {because that’s how Jami talks}. We ate dinner, tucked in our kiddos, Spence feel asleep while snuggling Jace, and Jami and I decided that we too would call it a night.

I woke up at 1:30 with contractions. I think I’m having a baby, I told myself, but the contractions were manageable so I successfully convinced myself to go back to sleep.

At 4:00 I woke up again. The contractions were more painful now and my head was pounding so hard that I was seeing stars. I felt nauseous and ran to the bathroom. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep through the contractions any longer so I took two Tylenol to try to control the headache; Google searched a refresher on how to time contractions and climbed into the bathtub.

Turns out it was baby day after all.

Our Life Unedited: Party of Five

Introducing our sweet baby girl.

Marlee Danielle

Born June 12, 2012 at 10:08 am.

7 pounds 8 ounces. 21 inches. And absolutely perfect.

big brother jace took this photo - and gave her the tiny baby to snuggle

We are all so proud. And completely smitten.

More pictures and a special 12 on the 12^th {Marlee’s birthday edition} to be posted soon. Our house has been a constant flow of houseguests, visitors and well wishers {and even the sweetest surprise package in the mail. Megan, you are so dang cool}.

We are oh so blessed.

But, when life slows a little {um, right!} I’ll be posting more. But for now we are celebrating new life. There isn’t anything more precious.

Oh and we’re celebrating fathers too! Happy Fathers Day, Dad. I love you! And Spencer, you are my everything.

Pregnancy: Photo Evidenced

A word about HG.

My mother-in-law had TWELVE kids. No multiples. No adoptions. No step kids. No kidding.

Excuse me while I compute.

That means she spent 9 years of her life pregnant. Or 108 months. Or 470 weeks/3,288 days/78,893 hours PREGNANT!

God bless her child bearing soul. The thought alone gives me heartburn. Honestly, everything right now gives me heartburn. But, still the same.

They say you forget all the misery and endless woe at first whiff of that fresh from heaven newborn aroma. And I agree, you do!

BUT TWELVE TIMES?! OH. MY. WORD! I don't care how good heaven smells...nothing is intoxicating enough to make me forget twelve times over.

Mind if I make a confession?

This pregnancy has been so dang hard for me. I feel bad saying it; like I’m complaining or undermining the beauty that is pregnancy. And I’m not - I would never wish it away. Never, ever. As miserable as pregnancy is, miscarrying is even worse. And, although I’ve never experienced it, I imagine infertility to be totally devastating.

But we all have different trials and hardships. And pregnancy: it's one of mine.

A couple weeks ago a friend sent me this link on hyperemesis gravidarum {I wrote a little about my own experience with it back here.} I found comfort in the article. Validation, I guess.  So I’m paying it forward and linking to the article in case anybody else is interested in reading it.

Anyway, go celebrate. It’s Friday! And it’s March. Three cheers.

The kids and I soaking up last weekends sun.

Kim on Motherhood:

There are good days.

There are great days.

There are days so perfect it feels magical.

And then there are days when I can’t help but ask what the hell have I got myself into!?

Today was one of those days.

News of the ultrasound sorts

Baby #3. Looks just like daddy.

So we had the ultrasound yesterday.

Here’s what I overheard:
+Daddy, our baby looks like Skeletor. {Brynlee}
+Ummm, why does the baby have no clothes on. {Jace}
+Dad, how can she tell if it’s a boy or a girl? {Brynlee}
+So, is our baby a boy, or a girl, or a butterfly, or a toot? {Jace – that little punk and his little boy potty mouth, seriously.}

Here’s what we learned:
+That there is only one baby.
+That the heart has four chambers and it is beating healthy. {Yea!}
+That the spine looks great.
+That my due date is June 15^th.
+And, that baby is measuring just as it should.

Here’s what we didn’t learn:

+The sex.

Little stinker sat on his/her feet the entire time. Well, except for about 30 seconds when he/she did half a backwards somersault with arms behind the head in sit-up position. But during that time the cord was placed perfectly between his/her legs. 

The ultrasound tech said that I was just going to have to wait for delivery for the gender discovery.

Um, right.

This mama can’t do that. I just can’t. It’s like trying to decorate for a wedding without knowing the bride’s wedding colors. Or trying to pack for a vacation when you don’t know the destination. I mean, sure it’s doable. But it seems like it doubles your work load. You have to wash and prep the clothes from the pink totes AND the blue totes. You have to come up with and agree on two separate names, just in case. Plus, I’ve never been a fan of green and yellow and smiling yellow duckies weird me out.
Like I've mentioned before, I wish a pregnacy test had a pink positive for a girl and a blue positive for a boy. So naturally I’m hoping to sneak a second peak in the next week or so. But until then, care to share. Did you find out the sex of your baby(s)? I’m super curious.

Expecting pink or blue?

 I’m twenty weeks now! I’ve {finally} reached that half way mark. Um, yay!

Which also means we get to find out the gender of our newest family member. Tomorrow. Excited, you ask? Absolutely.

In preparation I decided to take a little poll to see what ya’ll thought . . . blue or pink?

A couple details to help you make your decision:

+before I even knew i was pregnant my face broke out. mainly just my chin. zits, everywhere.

+i’m not certain if the heart beat is fast or not. a detail that i usually pay extra attention too {because my mom always asks}. this time i’ve just been overcome with excitement to hear a heartbeat, any heartbeat.

+i’ve experience morning sickness with all of my pregnancies, but this time around has been the absolute worst.

+i threw up every.single.day from week five to week sixteen {sometimes 2 to 4 times in a day}

+and although the throwing up has all but gone away I still get fairly nauseas during the evening hours.

+i overproduce saliva, it makes me gag.

+i can’t eat junk food. chocolate, sugar, juice, even chewing gum, makes me nauseas.

+i can’t do minty flavors. brushing my teeth is a huge challenge.

+water tastes like straight minerals. and I went through a period where I could only drink water during the nighttime hours when i woke to use the bathroom.

+chinese food, café’ rio, taco soup, and cinnamon rolls are all on the list of food that i may quite possibly never consume again.

+i haven’t had any major cravings this time around. although banana peppers, oranges {any fruit, really}, pickles and salad always taste good.

+the chinese calendar predicts that it’s a boy.

+i get nauseas if i’m hungry. snacking helps me make it through the day.

+i’m still in my regular clothes and i’m not really showing yet.

+if you didn’t know I was expecting you would probably just assume that i’ve gained weight. at a rapid rate.

+and i have gained weight. nine pounds so far.

+my baby bump is wide, not sticking out all cute but spreading from side to side?

+the baby is very active. mostly at nights. and movements are quick and clustered together.

+brynlee wants a girl, jace wants a boy. naturally.

+spence and i both agree on what we think the sex is and will be floored if we are wrong. {mainly because, we are never wrong!}

So which way you leaning!?

Boy or girl?

what's the gender of our baby

Preggy Want a Cracker

Every year we get a new Christmas ornament.
Jace got Batman.  Brynlee got a little gymnast.  I got this one.
Spence couldn't have picked out a better one for me.

My friend Breah is expecting her second child the end of July.  Since her and I are sort of in this whole pregnancy thing together 99% of our conversations are consumed by the joy that is pregnancy.  Last conversation I asked for a reminder, “How many weeks are you again?” 

“9 weeks” she answered.  “I can’t believe it; it’s actually going really fast.”

I responded with an OH, HECK NO! 

And I meant it to.  This pregnancy has been everything but fast.  Uncomfortable?  Yes.  Nauseating? You betcha.  Totally and completely miserable?  Abso-freakin-lutely. 

But fast?  Uhhh, no.  Capital “N” capital “O”.  No, no, no.  As in, not in the least.

I told my doctor at one of my last appointments that I was falling completely apart with this pregnancy.  “Uncle, I’m calling uncle!” I told him.  He laughed and tried to comfort yet another crazy morning sickened pregnant lady.  It’s sort of what he’s paid for, I guess.

But the nurse – she agreed - completely falling apart.  {I really like my nurse, by the way.}  I mean she should know; she’d been the one on clean up duty after I threw up all over their brand new office at my first appointment.  And she was there when I tested positive for my fourth {FOURTH!} UTI since becoming pregnant.  And the abnormal blood work - she’d been the lucky one that called to tell me about that too.  And then when I had the allergic reaction to my amoxicillin and called into the office covered head to toe in an itchy rash, she’d taken my call.  “How many more times you doing to do this whole pregnancy thing, Kim?” she joked.  I ran to the bathroom because the question in and of itself brought on another bout of uncontrollable morning sickness.

Does it make me less of a mother if I despise pregnancy?  It’s a hypothetical question.  I don’t really want you to answer that. 

I mean, I’m aware that there are people out there that enjoy pregnancy.  They get that glow.  Their belly looks like the lady on the cover of Maternity Yoga.  They run a marathon at seven months.  And they go through the entire pregnancy without throwing up.

But not all pregnant women are created equal.  Some experience morning sickness. 

And then there are others of us that fall in the category of weeks and weeks of nonstop vomiting.  My doctor told me it has a name: Hyperemesis.  I don’t care what it’s called, it sucks.

My absolute favorite is when those people that LOOOOOVVVE pregnancy try to offer advice to us sorry puking souls that despise it.  “I hear ginger works” they say.  Or “Have you tried sucking on hard candy?”  “What about saltine crackers?”

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to say “Saltine Crackers?  Get out!  That’s the answer.  Eating a couple crackers?  I’ve been vomiting for four months straight and all I needed to do was eat a flippin’ cracker?”

{For those of you that asked: I'm 16 weeks along.}

Oh. . . um, hi there.

So - as it turns out - I’ve been a little M.I.A. lately.

But I have a good excuse:

I’VE BEEN DEAD!

.

.

Err, um. . . enduring the first trimester of pregnancy.

Same dang thing.

.

.

And oh my goodness, you guys, I’ve been sick.

So, so very sick.

So much so that I have labeled this my worst pregnancy EVER!

As far as first trimester: this one’s been the worst, then Brynlee, then my second miscarriage, then my first miscarriage, then Jace.

{In case you were wondering.}

.

.

But then on Friday I had a doctor’s appointment.

And, my favorite part, we heard a heartbeat!!

I immediately declared it the best sound ever.

And then, for a moment, I forgot about all the sickness.

It suddenly all seemed worth it.

The nurse and I celebrated.

{Her anxiety about giving me bad news again was very apparent;

I think she was praying for a heartbeat just as hard as I was.}

And then I texted Spencer who was home with the kiddos.

Heard a heartbeat!!!

And he texted back

YEAH!!!!!!

I could hear his sigh of relief.

.

.

And then - just like that - the party was over.

And I threw up all over Dr. Cox’s brand new office.

It was awesome.

In a very sarcastic way.

.

.

I’m hoping in the next few days I will be able to look at the computer screen again
without getting nauseous.

I’ve missed my silly lil’ blog.

But until then,

XOXO.

Her backpacks already packed. She's ready.

Brynlee and I playing hand clapping games one afternoon.

On Saturday Brynlee and I went to the neighboring town and finished her back to school shopping.  Just the two of us.  A girl’s day, we called it.  We had so much fun!  So much so that I’ve decided to make it a back to school tradition.  A mom and me shopping trip to pick out the new school wardrobe and school supplies.  Someday Jace and I too will venture on a back to school shopping spree - a day with just me and him.  But for now it’s us girls.  Brynlee + Mom.

She picked out mainly dresses and skirts.  It didn’t surprise me in the least, since nine days out of ten that is what she wears.  Occasionally I can talk her into a pair of shorts or some Levis, but her first choice is always something out of the dress portion of her closet.  It’s been that way since she was able to voice a clothing wearing opinion.  We bought plenty of leggings to make her dresses cold weather appropriate and I even talked her into a sweater or two although she didn't really want to buy such warm clothes because it was so hot outside.

On Thursday Brynlee will start an entirely new chapter in her little life.  She’s counting days and can barely wait for the last link to be removed from her countdown chain.  I’m hoping {and praying} that her excitement remains and her nerves/timidness don’t get the best of her at the last minute.

That’s sort of what happened at her Kindergarten screening.  She was so excited to see her new school, to meet the teachers, to show them how well she knew her numbers and her ABC’s.  But, the unfamiliar is always overwhelming for her.  And when it was finally her turn she grabbed on to my arm, hid her face and begged me to take her home.  Jace was the brave superhero that she needed.  He held her hand, rubbed her back, and told her not to be sad.  He insisted on staying in the classroom right next to Brynlee while she did her screening and the teacher was so kind and allowed him to do so.  A minute or two later Brynlee forgot she was even nervous and her excitement resurfaced.

My mom asked me the other day if I was excited to see her go to Kindergarten or if I was going to be one of those moms that cry.  How do you answer that question?  I mean, I am so excited for her to start Kindergarten.  I’m not excited to “see her go” because I’m selfish and I want her here with me, always.  But I’m so excited for her to start this new chapter.  To learn, to socialize, to experience school.  To grow in ways that wouldn’t be possible if Spencer and I were always right by her side.  So I guess, yes.  I’m excited.  And ready or not, it’s time.

So here’s to the first day of school.  Here’s to Kindergarten.  Here’s to letting go, if only a little, and to embracing growing up.  Here’s to changes.  And to early morning alarm clocks.  Here’s to PTA meetings, class room volunteering and making cupcakes for holiday parties.  Here’s to homework and backpacks and lunch money.  But most of all, here’s to making it through the first day of kindergarten without being one of those moms that cry.  Fingers crossed.