Two months

Two months. It's the blink of the eye. It's an entire life time. In the last two months my heart has tasted heartache and victory. I have cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I have hurt so deeply I couldn't speak. I have celebrated victories I never considered a battle to be won. I have treasured moments I once doubted would ever come to pass. 

I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me go back to the beginning...

February 18. The morning started with a call from my OB. My blood pressure was too high. I was too swollen. Baby was too big. Four weeks early. It was time to deliver. Within hours I was in active labor even though I was having a planned c-section. It was clear that the only cure was delivery. Despite everyone feeling confident that Abigail was ready for "life on the outside", she came out weak and with a strange high pitched cry that ignited a flurry of activity that ended with my baby girl in the NICU. And not in my arms. I wasn't prepared. None of us were. Her breathing was weak and her blood work showed a potential infection. The rug wasn't just pulled out from under me. The whole floor collapsed and I was falling. Every step forward was met with giant tumbles backwards, landing us flat on our backs once again. 

I can remember sitting in my small hospital room, clinging to this tiny fragile body that was too weak to move or cry or even swallow. I held my daughter close and tried to pray. I've only known a handful of times in my life when I hurt so deeply I couldn't pray. This was one of them.  My heart literally couldn't form the words. I only knew pain. All I could say was "God, help!" as I clung to the verse that says the Spirit intercedes with groanings and utterings we cannot understand. 

Two months later, looking back, I can see that moment in a new light. I can feel God holding that broken mommy and little baby fighting for life. I can hear Him whisper "I already am, dear child." The mysterious infection that kept her in the NICU was never explained. But within hours of it being discovered she reached a critical state of dehydration and stopped eating. A feeding tube was placed in an effort to save her life. It worked. The milk dropped in her belly slowly brought her back to us. A glimmer of hope. A glimpse of God's grace. 

We finally left the hospital but our battle wasn't over. She was still too weak to breastfeed and was steadily losing weight. For over a week after she was born she continually dropped lower and lower. I don't remember much from that week except holding her close as I wept. I begged her to fight. I begged her not to die. I prayed and prayed for our sleepy preemie to wake up and eat! Then one day, she did. Like a light switch, she turned a corner. She had gained two ounces the next morning at her weight check. My mom and I declared it a hallelujah day! We celebrated with cokes at Sonic. Which turned into lunch. Which turned into us ordering the entire left side of the menu. Which led to us coming home with the largest Sonic bag I've ever seen in my life! But I felt like I could finally breathe! She was gaining! Another glimmer of hope. A glimpse of grace.

As we approached our due date, another glimmer broke through. Abigail suddenly had the strength to nurse. She still relied on bottles, but we could see it in her eyes. She was growing. We slowly (very slowly) backed off on bottles and allowed her to nurse more. But every dropped bottle came with fear. It came with the nagging memory of those terrifying NICU days. It came with questions and wondering and doubt. It felt like a cloud that always hung over my shoulder - taunting me with dark storms but never bursting forth. Was she ready? Was she getting enough? Would she gain weight at the right rate? Were we making the right choices for her? 

At her 2 month check up, I got to weigh her before and after a feeding. Not only was she gaining beautifully, we were able to see how much she's taking in when she nurses. Seeing that number grow after nursing felt like a breath of fresh air. It was a holy breeze that blew the storm clouds away. The clouds hanging over my heart broke free and sunshine took over. Hope wrapped itself around my heart for the first time in two long months and I can finally breathe! Our family is living in glorious glimpses of grace! 

Mom Realities: Shower Edition

II've learned that as a mom, there's a fake set of expectations that lives in my head and real world experiences. These expectations and experiences hardly ever line up. When they do, life hums along joyfully. When they don't hilarity and chaos often ensue. Today, let's examine the expectations and realities of mom showering while the children are awake. In my house, this is 99% of the time I shower. It is rare that the stars align long enough for mom to shower while dad is home or children are sleeping. (Because if children are sleeping, this pregnant momma is sleeping.)

Expectation: I smell. It's been a day or two since I showered. I should take care of that.

Reality: As soon as mom decides to shower, everyone needs 8,000 things RIGHT NOW! "I need another snack. For the 15th time this hour." "I can't find my water bottle that's sitting right next to me." "I'm bored and don't know how to play with all of my brand new age appropriate Christmas toys." "My brother looked at me and it hurt." "My finger is bent." "My nose smells." You get the picture.

Expectation: I'm going to use this new luxurious shower gel I got in my Christmas stocking. I will smell so lovely I will have flowers floating around me and the birds will break out in song.

Reality: There's glitter in my shower gel. Now there's glitter in my ear. Who thought this was a good idea??? 

Expectation: While I'm busy de-stink-ing myself, my children will angelically play with their new Christmas toys and watch the movie I've strategically started on TV. (Because, real life.) 

Reality: I will scream my children's names no less than 65 times throughout the course of the shower. They will respond to my screams exactly twice.

Expectation: I'm out of the shower. We all survived. I just need to dry off.

Reality: As I'm drying off my youngest runs down the hall way. With the plunger. In his mouth.

Expectation: I will put on nice clean clothes.

Reality: When was the last time I washed this bra?

Expectation: Since my luxurious shower gel didn't make me feel so luxurious, I will sit in the living room and slather myself in a variety of lotions! Including my free jar of stretch mark erasing belly butter.

Reality: A child will grab the $50 jar of belly butter and run through the house screaming like a maniac.

Expectation: It's 10:30. Shower time has now taken over an hour. But I'm out now. I should turn off the tv so we can play and have brain development and real conversation. The experts say this is what I should do. The experts say TV is harmful. Between eating the plunger and watching PAW Patrol for mindless hours, my child is seriously at risk of never learning how to be a successful human. 

Reality: Why is everyone screaming? Why are there 8,000 puzzle pieces all over the living room? Why did you decide it was a good idea to kick your brother? Why are you licking the wall? Here. Watch "Inside Out". For the 657th time since Monday. 

Is it nap time yet? This momma is exhausted! 

Rough Day

My precious boys,

Today wasn't our best day. At least for me. I was tired and cranky and short tempered. My fuse was short and my voice was loud. The memories of it make my heart ache. 

Today, we painted on paper plates. For some reason I thought you'd keep the paint contained. For some reason I expected you both to change your behavior and act like grown ups. Who was I kidding? You were both covered in enough paint to be considered leprechauns. There was paint all over the floor, on the cabinet doors, on the rug, and on the high chair. We all laughed, but you two laughed more. Instead of enjoying the moment I was so frustrated by the mess to be cleaned up! But in reality, it wasn't bad. You each grabbed a baby wipe and scrubbed away right along side your momma. There wasn't a grumble among you. 

When I was so tired I couldn't keep my eyes open, Caleb happily snuggled into my lap while I put on silly YouTube videos. When my heart broke with the weight of a thousand grown up troubles, you quietly joined your daddy in the living room and let me cry as I made dinner. You didn't even complain about the tears in the taco meat! :- )

Yes, you two had your moments too. There was lots of kicking and throwing and I'm sure you got pretty sick of one another more than once. But at the end of the day, I saw the look you gave each other in the bath tub. I saw Caleb's concern when he thought Noah was sick. I saw Noah giggle when Caleb did a silly dance. 

Bed time ended our day much like the tough moments that filled it. But as I sat in the living room, my tooth still throbbing from the most recent head butt, I realized how lucky I am to have two precious healthy boys. How blessed I am that of all the babies in the world, God gave me you two! So I tip toed into Noah's room, knowing his days in the nursery are numbered. He was pretty much asleep but I couldn't let the day end like it had. I scooped him up and sighed in contentment as he snuggled into my chest. 

I don't know how long I held you, Noah. But I know I apologized for the words I'd spoken and asked for forgiveness. I reminded you that you were nothing I expected and everything I needed. I thanked the Lord over and over and over again that He gave me you. I listened to Daddy and Caleb talk before their last good nights. I felt my heart burst with love for the three guys in my life. I prayed over you all. I prayed for grace to cover the ugly parts of today and for grace to FILL all the parts of tomorrow. 

I'm not perfect. I yell and cry and I'm short tempered when I should be filled with patience and grace. But I love you boys fiercely. I wouldn't trade the two of you for anything in the world! You made me a mommy and made family our name. Being your mommy may be the hardest thing I've ever done, but it's the best thing - hands down. 

I love you both my precious boys!

Love,

Mommy

Abigail

Dear Abigail,

Abigail. Abigail. Wow. I've named a hundred baby dolls Abigail (never Abby) and dreamed of the day is have a baby girl of my own. When God gave me your two brothers, I fell madly in love with being a boy mom and I was sure I would be one the rest of my life. Then God gave us you.

When the blood work came back and I saw pink highlighter on the paper, I screamed. Loudly. I jumped around and giggled and screamed some more. That paper hung on our fridge until a few days ago. I must admit, every time I looked at it, my eyes would fall to the bottom where a disclaimer clearly stated the results were 98.9% accurate. A tiny piece of my heart was terrified I'd fall in the statistical minority. That this little girl I was dreaming of was really a boy. I prayed and prayed that I wouldn't be disappointed when an ultrasound showed boy parts. 

But on Monday, we had an ultrasound. On Monday we saw what I never thought would be. Little girl parts. Finally, my heart felt peace. This dream is real. I'm having a daughter. I wish my words could describe how DIFFERENT this feels. It's a beautiful mystery I'll spend the rest of my life figuring out. 

Watching the ultrasound was amazing! Almost a worshipful moment for me. Your tiny heart is the size of a nickel but it beats perfectly with 4 little chambers and valves. You have tiny fingers and a face that looks so much like your brothers it's unreal. You have long gorgeous legs that love to stick straight out! No wonder I've felt sharp jabs on my right side lately. :) 

You are beautiful, my precious daughter, and I can't wait to meet you! Our house is buzzing with excitement and your brothers ask about you daily. Noah even learned to say A-gee this week when we talk about you. We all love you and are so excited that you're a part of our family!

Love,

Mommy

A loss so great

Dear Caleb and Noah,

This morning we went to MOPS. It was not a typical day for us. As soon as we walked in, you both started crying. By the time I had both of you in your classrooms (still in tears), I was awash in my own flood of tears. Then we had a speaker that shook me up and rattled my heart in ways I was not prepared for. She spoke of the lessons she learned as her husband battled lung cancer. She had tears in her eyes as she told us about the day he met Jesus. As I'm sure you can imagine, I melted into a puddle of emotional (hormonal) goo. I cried for her and her daughter. I cried for my best friend that met Jesus when she was a young mom. I cried for you two and for Abigail, wondering how you would handle losing me or your daddy. 

As I rocked Noah before nap, the emotions washed over me all over again. I struggled to swallow my tears as I looked at Noah's sleepy eyes. My heart cried out. "God! My babies need me! They need their daddy! You can't call us home when their little. You just can't!" Yes, I know. I know that's not a wise way to talk to God. But sometimes it's best to just get real. And in that moment, I was in a panic. I was terrified that anything would cause us to leave you! 

I was washing dishes when the peace came. I knew God was listening to my cries. I knew He saw my tears and heard my fears. I also knew He had peace for me if I just sought Him. Without warning, my heart calmed as I scrubbed the spaghetti pot. There was a still, quiet whisper in my heart. "I knew Brandi's kids would grow up without a mom." 

I couldn't help but smile. A treasure of darkness peeking through from months of struggle. You see, when I was deeply mourning the loss of my dear friend I ranted at the Lord that those babies she left behind were now motherless. God reminded me that when He created Brandi's children, He knew their mom would have brain cancer. He knew her last days just as He knew the number of their days. That brain cancer knocked us off our feet, but it wasn't a surprise to God. For reasons I'll never understand on this side of heaven, that's the story God wrote for that family. 

Today, standing in front of the sink, that lesson washed over me again. God knows the number of my days, the number of your days, and the number of your daddy's days. He alone knows how long we have before He calls us home. And, He knew it all before He formed you in my womb. So while there is nothing in me that wants to leave my precious boys, I have such peace that God is going to hold you close - no matter what! 

I love you, my precious boys! I am overwhelmed with thankfulness that God gave me you. No matter what God brings out way, know that I love you fiercely and you will always be my boys! 

Love,

Mommy

Humble gifts

The most beautiful flowers in the world are now mine! No florist can ever compete with the treasures my boys bring me! Simple weeds that will wither and fade by day's end, but the gesture from my precious boys will forever touch this mama's heart! 

(As I typed, Noah reached out and are one. Precious moments indeed.)

Sleepy Snuggles

Tonight I did something I honestly thought I'd never get to do again. I held my Noah as he fell asleep. This used to be a daily occurrence for us but it's happened less and less until I was certain I'd never rock him to sleep again.

But tonight, he gave me a precious gift. After a very full day where naps were virtually non-existent, my baby was exhausted. So after the baths and stories and prayers were done, we settled into our chair in the corner of the nursery. It's no easy task settling a toddler and his bear and two blankets all in the right places. But as soon as we got settled into a smooth rhythm, his eyes got heavy. I have always loved watching babies fall asleep but watching my own children is a special kind of magic. Tonight I was so deeply grateful for that late summer sunset that cast a golden glow across his room. His eyes drifted closed slowly and then quickly, all at once. His breathing slowed and became deep and even. 

I just sat there staring at his sweet face. Feeling the weight of his long legs. Watching him clutch his bear. I remembered carrying him around Kohl's as a teeny newborn while he nursed under the cover. I remembered how light and small and helpless he felt in my arms. I thought back to the victory we felt every time we got our stubborn newborn to sleep. 

And my heart sighed. A deep, content, peace filled sigh of happiness.