We are in the home stretch, sort of.

"Asking for and receiving help is a way to prime the pump of generosity.” -Jay Perry

We are in the home stretch, but still have a couple openings if you would like to help out. 

Here is the mealtrain:

https://mealtrain.com/7wqzd2

Here is the spreadsheet to help with the girls:

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1PZ2p34JaEpbLI3IYy2GTMrGFNXx1n60fP1AKJ_ffHWg/edit#gid=0

Asking for help is hard. It's not something I enjoy at all. I'd rather just handle what needs to be done and not bother anyone. This season has been full of challenges - physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. But God is so good. He takes what the enemy means for evil and turns it into beauty. He transforms ashes to glory.

People are asking, "How's bedrest?". The short answer: good. The longer answer: this blog post. 

My long answer is still good, by the way. I can't complain. I have an incredible community surrounding me and helping me take care of the girls. My husband is a real life superhero who has taken care of the girls, me, and the house all while doing his normal responsibilities. My aunt has come into town and will be coming back into town to help with the girls to give my friends and husband a little break. I am blessed beyond measure. 

For those of you who want to actually know what is going on physically, I will share. My back muscles are spazzing, which the only cure for is not sitting so much and not being pregnant anymore. So I can't really do much about that. I have intense round ligament pain that makes getting up and down, showering, and rolling over in bed difficult tasks. Heartburn is out of control, and I'm starting to get nauseated again like the first trimester. Fun. I get out of breath walking from room to room, and it's getting harder to hold Beau. I'm not supposed to be holding her right now anyway, but even the smallest amount of holding her and I'm hurting and breathing heavy. I'm honestly a little nervous about recovering from a csection after being on bedrest. I'm so weak physically which I'm not really used to. It will just be another humbling part of this journey, I'm sure.

One quick update: we did go back to the hospital last week. I was having contractions for 4 hours that were consistently 2-4 minutes apart. I hadn't progressed, and they were able to get them to stop, so we got to go home the same day we came in. Thankfully. We are hoping and praying for no more hospital visits until I actually get to take my little boy home!  

My physical state might be declining with this pregnancy and bedrest, but my heart is so full. I just have to last 3 more weeks on bedrest. I can do that. Then just 3 more weeks after that until I meet my boy, unless he comes early. Then I will be recovering from a csection, but I will have the sweetest little snuggle buddy, that I won't mind much. There is so much to look forward to. 

Thank you so everyone who has signed up to help with meals, and the girls. Some of you have even helped clean my house which has been such a blessing!

Thank you for your prayers. Thank you for your kindness. Thank you for supporting my family while we keep this little one cooking as long as possible. I'm eternally grateful. 

Three Weeks of Bedrest

Almost 3 weeks of bedrest. That's crazy to think that it has been that long, and that short. 

Week one, Jacob was home from work and basically cleaned our entire house. He is a servant, a leader, and totally gorgeous pushing a vacuum and taking care of our girls. That week was mere preparation for my Aunt to come in town the following week. Good thing I had nested so early before, because I had a guest room ready for her. One less thing that Jacob had to take care of. 

Week two, my completely selfless, beautiful, loving Aunt came in to town to help. When I say Aunt, I want you to hear "Mom". She raised me. She is Mom, but technically, Aunt. The first day that she was here, when Jacob went back to work, I had a little bit of an emotional breakdown. Beau didn't understand what was happening with so much change all at one time. She cried and cried most of the day when I couldn't do much for her. Then when she crawled in her highchair for a snack, she looked up at me with her deep brown eyes and said, "momma. hi." in the sweetest little voice like she hadn't seen me all day.  

That's when I lost it. The tears came, and honestly, I had a hard time stopping them. I realized how much I had missed her. Missed our quality time together. Please don't take it as me being ungrateful for help. My Aunt is a saint, and I loved every minute of her being here. I just missed my time with the girls. Everything was different, and was going to be different for a while. Maybe a good cry is just what I needed. 

This is when I felt the crossroads. I had a decision to make. The next several weeks could be really hard. They could be boring, stressful, and full of missed opportunities. 

Or. 

I could look for the "hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that [I] may know that [He is]  the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons [me] by name." Isaiah 45: 3

So that's what I decided for week three of bedrest. Now I'm on a quest. A search. A journey of seeking out His face that I know lingers in the stillness. The only thing is that the stillness is surrounded by chaos. It's like a deep rooted tree that I'm trying to walk towards during the middle of a hurricane. 

People make comments, the internet assumes, and honestly I assumed as well that I would have so much time to read my Bible, listen to audio books, and a plethora of other calming activities. "Rest while you can!" they say. This is not the case. It looks like relying on a lot of people to do things that I normally do. While I just sit. It looks like getting winded from just walking to the bathroom. It looks like desperately wanting to take the girls for a walk, but settling with sitting outside in a lawn chair while the girls run around. It looks like having contractions from sitting up to try to help fold laundry. It looks like weekly doctor appointments and taking all measures to make sure that this boy stays in me as long as possible. It looks like taking medicine that makes me feel so crummy - enough side effects that make having a premature baby sound not so bad. It looks like every minute that I would normally have had for free time to read books and whatnot, is just more intentional time with Beau making sure that she is occupied and not getting in to things in the house, or time with Ry doing school. I've been referring to it as "Project tire Beau out". It looks like people coming over to help entertain the girls and keep them busy because I can't.

And boy am I glad that I have those other people! They are all angels! How did I get so blessed? We have people bringing us meals and people signed up to come help chase Beau around in the mornings so that I can just have them in the afternoons before Jacob gets home from work. This is the church. The picture of the body of Christ laying down their life for another. I don't even know how to express my gratitude. 

Week three, you have had your challenges. 

I have had to balance the scales of mommy guilt and complete trust, of longing and contentment.

I've had to sort through the heart complexities of being still and feeling lazy, of missing out and being present.

I will continue to sort through it, expectantly looking for the treasures, and secrets, and growth, and opportunities. 

Ridiculous 24 Hours

Wow. Did you miss me? My last post was in December of 2017. I didn't lose the desire or even the amount of content to write, I just let busyness get in the way. But this, I want to remember, so you get to read about it too if you like.

Tuesday, March 12th, 2019.
I am married to a wonderful, talented, handsome, smart, hilarious, sarcastic, hard-working man, Jacob.
I have a creative, assertive, prophetic, sensitive, fierce, witty, beautiful 7 year old girl, my Ryot Sweetness.
I have a wise, intelligent, contagious, joyful, charming, brave, beautiful 21 month old girl, Beau baby.
I am 27 weeks and 4 days pregnant with my first boy, who so far has been kind to his momma this pregnancy and moves a ton. My free little king, Jett Ryan.
And of course the best dog in the world, Gracie girl, our blue heeler.

I had finished one conference call for work, and was wrapping up the next action steps on my second conference call of the day. Beau has woken up for her nap and joined me with a snack and a show so that I can finish up my call. Keeping her somewhat quiet, opening the snack, turning down the tv, while trying to figure out IT issues with a document I have to upload every month - this is a usual Tuesday for this working mom. Actually, abnormally, my Sweetness wasn't even there because it's spring break. So I had a rare opportunity to spend just quality time with my little one. This doesn't happen often, and I was really looking forward to this week.

Like a physical comedy scene from a television show, the chaos began. We have this iRobot vacuum named Rosie. I think buying her was with good intentions, but she doesn't really do a good job. Every day she turns on at 4pm and it's more work for me to get her unstuck from all of the places not Rosie-proof in our home. Then I still vacuum. See the problem here? Well, ding, 4:00pm. She turns on while I'm on my conference call. My phone hadn't been working so I couldn't pull up the app to turn her off, but she was loud so she needed to be silenced. I ask my IT guy to wait for a second and quickly go to stand on my left foot to reach Rosie. What I didn't realize is that by sitting on my left foot for the conference call, it had fallen completely asleep. Not the annoying tingling sleep. Not the dozing off but still feeling asleep. The my body didn't even recognize that my foot was still attached to my leg kind of dead, numb asleep. As soon as I put any weight on that left foot, my ankle rolled out from under me. Desperately trying to catch myself, my right foot flung to stabilize me only to trip on a Little People house that Beau baby had been playing with earlier before nap. This trip flung me backwards where I landed on my elbow, bum, and then hit the back of my head on the brick fireplace.

Here is a picture of the crime scene:

Woah. What just happened. I hear Beau baby saying 'you ok?" over and over as well as my IT guy asking if I was ok. I didn't shout out or anything, but I'm sure he heard the commotion of me tripping over things. I told him that I was ok, I had just tripped and to give me one more second. I was able to sit up by my computer, reassure Beau baby that I was ok, and finish up the conversation of next steps for my conference call. Ok. Done.

I checked the back of my head. No blood.
I put my ankles on the floor in front of me to watch for swelling. I hadn't heard any pop and was in pain, but not unbearable pain. Good.
I had one hand on my belly feeling Jett move, and the other around Beau who was continuously asking me, "you ok?". The sweetest little love.
I reassured her I was ok and we laughed how mommy fell down, but I was going to get back up because I'm a "big girl". Desperately trying to get that 'big girl' and 'big sister' language thrown in there any chance I can so that she is more prepared for her little brother. She 'helped' me stand up and I tried to put pressure on my ankle. Not great, but not 10 out of 10.

I grabbed my computer to send Jacob an email to let him know what was going on around 4:10pm. Why not use my phone to call him? Good question. It wasn't working. Ugh. That's a whole other post of the hilarity of my pregnancy brain. We'll save it for a different day. Email sent, I hobbled with Beau baby to the car to head to the karate school to pick up Sweetness and use their phones. Shocking, I know, my dr wanted me to go to the hospital. Jacob had actually just gotten home when I was at the karate school and had read my email when I called him. Then my saint of a mother in law offered to watch the girls so that we could go to the hospital to get monitored. Thinking we would be home by bedtime, we headed home so my MIL could watch the girls and I could ride with Jacob to the hospital.

Once we arrived at Labor and Delivery, they actually sent us to the ER first to check out my head and ankle. One of the nurses said, "it doesn't matter if baby is ok if momma isn't ok. We can send someone down to the ER to monitor your baby, but we can't check out your head and ankle up here." So back down to the crowded, sick ER we went. At this point, I was so grateful that I didn't have the girls around all of the sickness, and I just prayed that God would protect us.

My hilarious, ornery, handsome husband kept me laughing. We updated family, and just waited. In our season of baby-raising, we don't get much time to just sit and talk as adults. The circumstances weren't ideal, but I really enjoyed my one on one time with him. (Can you tell quality time is my top love language?)  We didn't actually wait there very long before they took us to a room to check out my head and ankle. No concussion, marks, or bleeding on my head, and they did an xray on the ankle. Then we were wheeled to another well waiting area where we sat forever. I think my tail bone started to fuse with the wheelchair and my stomach started eating itself I'm sure. We were so hungry and pretty tired of waiting, but they were so packed. Everyone was so nice and apologized every time they called us to a new room. I knew they were busy.

We finally received the results of the xray - just a sprain. Good news. By this time, it was around 9pm and we were finally headed up to Labor and Delivery to get checked out. We were led to a ginormous room and thus started the process. Several different nurses and doctors asking what happened. By this time I had told my ridiculous story probably 7 times to different nurses and doctors. We all laughed and one dr reminded me jokingly that I was only supposed to have 1 glass of wine, while others questioned if Jacob pushed me or if he was there when it happened. A little comical, a little serious inquiry, a lot of embarrassment. I just felt ridiculous. All of the nurses were so gracious, kind, and wonderful.

We monitored the baby and realized that I was having pretty steady contractions every 2-3 minutes. I could feel them but they weren't painful. Then it clicked. Seeing the contractions on the screen and feeling the uncomfortable pressure at the same time reminded me that I have been having these feelings for a while now. I just didn't know they were contractions because it's so early and they are still pretty weak. They weren't painful, so I just chalked them up to normal pregnancy pain, or Jett stretching, or maybe needing to pee for the 149th time that day. Now I realized that I had been having contractions all along. This was a little scary. I didn't have time to be that worried because then came the onslaught of questions, and figuring out what the drs wanted me to do.

I apparently have tiny, fragile veins. There is nothing else on me or about me that has ever been described as tiny and fragile. I guess I take after my Granny in this way, as she says we are "hard to stick". My amazing, giving, selfless, beautiful, hard-working friend Cassie actually came in to work Tuesday night for a little bit and my what a relief that is. It's so nice seeing a familiar face even if she did tease me for being "THAT patient" that is difficult to stick. Never underestimate a friendly face and comic relief in the midst of chaos. Priceless. Thank you, Cassie.

My tiny, fragile vein that finally worked:

One nurse tried twice in two different spots, another nurse tried once in a different spot, and then they called in the anesthesiologist. She tried once in a spot that wouldn't take, and then said that if she couldn't get the next one to stick, she had to get an ultrasound machine to try to find a vein that would work. On the 5th try, they successfully stuck me on the top of my left wrist. Super painful, but it worked.

At first the decision was to just monitor for a bit and send us home. The contractions staying steady changed that plan. By 1am, they decided to keep me for 48 hours for steroid shots, magnesium drip, and fluids to try to get the contractions to stop. Magnesium did nothing through the night, which was super. Jett was moving a ton, so the nurse kept coming in to adjust the monitor. In addition to the constant beeping, blood pressure cuff going off every 30 minutes, and a couple other uncomfortable medical things, no sleep was had for me.

However, next day my awesome Mother in Law transferred my kiddos to my amazing sister to watch, and then my dr switched me to the oral meds and my contractions actually started responding! By lunch time I was down to nearly no contractions, so my dr made a plan and let me go. What a relief to have a plan and be able to execute it at home! And what a relief to have people gather around and love on my girls. Jacob and I felt so loved, for sure.

So now, I am going to continue taking oral meds, and be on bedrest from now until 36 weeks with the hope of the contractions going away until its safe for little boy to come. When we stop the meds at 36 weeks, if I go into labor, then we will just have a baby. Bedrest looks like the couch or the bed except to eat, shower, and use the restroom. Toddlers don't exactly sit still much, and I am already battling a little mommy guilt over the things I won't be able to do with Ry and Beau that we normally do.

But if you are still with me this far along - first, congrats - but second, hear this:
I am not worried. My God is not surprised by this twist in the road for us. He is the most trustworthy, kind, loving, Abba Father. He is in control and has all the power to keep this little boy healthy and growing until he joins our family.

Also, I have had so many people reach out to offer help. I'm not sure what the next 9 weeks will look like on bedrest, but I don't have to know the next 9 weeks. I know this week, my servant-hearted husband is taking off work, and next week my selfless Aunt is coming in town for a week to help prepare for Jett in case he comes early. The next week and a half I feel confident that I can figure out what holes/needs I have for our family to function, and I know that God will provide.

In the meantime, we will read some great books, watch some good movies, listen to a lot of music, and snuggle a ton. We will figure all of it out.

The best way to describe it is that I feel the "peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard [my] hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus". Philippians 4:7