I am Small

Each day of late I read Isaiah 40. The words are becoming increasingly familiar and yet they remain endlessly profound. The question, To whom then will you liken God? penetrates my soul. And the answer resonates deep within me, bringing peace and hope and strength: Nobody, Lord, I confess. There is none like You.

These are the confessions of faith.

I find again and again that victory over fear and doubt has nothing to do with me and everything to do with God. When circumstances and uncertainties and perilous times overwhelm my heart, I can look to the Creator of the ends of the earth. He is in control.

Who has measured the waters in the hollow of His hand, And marked off the heavens by the span, And calculated the dust of the earth by the measure, And weighed the mountains in a balance, And the hills in a pair of scales?

...Do you not know? Have you not heard? Has it not been declared to you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth? It is He who sits above the vault of the earth, And its inhabitants are like grasshoppers, Who stretches out the heavens like a curtain And spreads them out like a tent to dwell in. He it is who reduces rulers to nothing, Who makes the judges of the earth meaningless. Scarcely have they been planted, Scarcely have they been sown, Scarcely has their stock taken root in the earth, But He merely blows on them, and they wither, And the storm carries them away like stubble.

"To whom then will you liken Me That I should be his equal?" says the Holy One. Lift up your eyes on high And see who has created these stars, The One who leads forth their host by number, He calls them all by name; Because of the greatness of His might and the strength of His power Not one of them is missing.

How amazing it is to be counted as one of His.

The Easiest & Yummiest Breakfast Casserole Ever

This is a favorite casserole around here. I like it because it whips up in a hurry, can be prepared the night beforehand, can have any variation of ingredients, and everybody likes it. Unlike many egg casseroles, it isn't bland, and the cottage cheese gives it a very light frittata-ish taste.

4 eggs, beaten
1/3c milk
1/4c all-purpose flour
1/2tsp baking powder
1/8tsp garlic powder*
10oz shredded cheese
1c. pepperoni, sausage, spinach, broccoli, ham, and/or whatever you feel like!
1c light cottage cheese

1. Preheat oven to 375-degrees.
2. Combine eggs, milk, flour, baking powder & garlic powder in medium bowl; beat until combined. Stir in 8oz shredded cheese, pepperoni/sausage/spinach/etc. & cottage cheese. Pour into greased 9-inch pie plate and sprinkle remaining shredded cheese on top. Bake, uncovered, 25-30 minutes or until golden and knife inserted into center comes out clean.
3. To serve, cut into wedges.

*You can add any variation of herbs & spices, too, of course!

Daniel made 2 mozzarella & pepperoni and 2 cheddar & spinach casseroles for Memorial Day breakfast with my family. Very, very good.

(Shhh, don't tell, but I have been known to make this for dinner on those less-than-routine days!)

My Boy

Last night, we were driving home from a very fun and enjoyable Memorial Day BBQ with family and friends. My little melancholy child was quietly observing the surrounding fields, barns, trees, and homes from the very back of the van when he called up to us, "Everything is bigger than me."

Daniel looked at me quizzically and then tried to understand what Gabriel was trying to communicate. "What, Buddy?"

"Everything is bigger than me. Except for, like, the fire hydrants."

22 Weeks

So we're almost to 5 months. 5 months of growing and developing for our littlest blessing!

God has been good to us. I'm glad He knows far better than I what is truly a blessing. My desires for peace and routine aren't evil or anything, but the real blessings are eternal ones and worth every minute of work, sacrifice, and barely-controlled chaos.

5 Month Milestones:

:: I discovered that the juniors sections of stores are basically full of maternity tops, believe it or not. I'm still not sure how designers have convinced 13-year-olds that they want to look pregnant, but-- hey!-- if it means I can buy a $5 shirt like the one I'm wearing today, I'm game.

:: Baby went from giving bubble-popping sensations to full-blown kicks and flip-flops around 19-20 weeks. How is the miracle of life so new each and every time???

:: After gaining a modest 3lbs in the previous 6 weeks, I am pretty sure I more than made up for it in the past 10 days. Unfortunately, it's definitely too soon to be dismissed as water-weight, though that rapidly-growing-belly reassures me that at least my cheeks aren't the only thing growing! (I look at 5 months like a first-time mom looks at 9 months.)

:: I have entered into the full throes of indigestion and heartburn, which I never get except when pregnant. It really isn't terrible, except that I can't pig out at any given mealtime without paying severe consequences. Fortunately, the modified activity is actually working in my favor in this arena because I'm much less hungry than I have been in previous pregnancies, so that I don't want to eat as much all at once.

:: This is the half of pregnancy I enjoy. I think I will enjoy it more than ever this time around because I no longer have the helpless feeling that comes with knowing I am high risk without there being any options other than to "wait and see." Not to mention that from here on in is when the belly really pops, the exhaustion and yuckies have a visible excuse, and the reality of a new life only increases!

And now, for a funny Gabriel quote:  You just don't talk as cool as me, Dad.

Summer Toys

My kids don't own many summer, outdoor toys. This is largely because there aren't any birthdays in our family that fall at a good time for giving such gifts. While I knew in January that Jackson would enjoy a sprinkler or sandbox come summer, it not only seemed kind of strange to give him that sort of gift while snow lay piled on the ground around us, it's simply downright inconvenient because stores don't sell sand shovels and beach balls the week after Christmas. Gabriel often bemoans the fact that he doesn't have a tricycle*, which he somehow got into his head that every little kid should own. Bronwyn thinks playing in the yard means pointing out weeds and "hurting leaves," while most children her age equate outdoor play with swings and slides. It's almost pathetic... but not quite.

Today, to compensate for the shortage of outdoor entertainment, we splurged and bought an almost-$8 kiddie pool. We also bit the bullet and purchased the air pump, figuring even Dave Ramsey and tightwads like me all agree that $4.50 is worth not having to blow that thing up by mouth. I'm now looking forward to our next batch of hot days and watching my kids splash about.

I've just got to find a bathing suit for Bronwyn first. (Did you guys know that our local JCPenney doesn't sell toddler-sized bathing suits? I mean, how ridiculous is that?!)

*Please note, lest you think me cruel: Daniel and I really do have every intention of buying our children tricycles and bicycles at some point in their lives. In the meantime, whenever we hear Gabriel rockin' out on his very cool drumset, we don't feel so badly about the rather Oliver-esque requests we hear upon each sighting of a child on a tricycle.

Summer Days

The lazy days of summer are once again knocking at my door.

It isn't that there isn't a lot to do (on the contrary, Daniel has his long lists of things to accomplish before he leaves for Spain in exactly 3 weeks) and more that hazy, humid mornings like this one leave me wanting nothing more or less than picnic lunches, oceanside beaches (sorry, but rivers and lakes just don't cut it), ice cream from ice cream stands, and the smell of sunscreen. I'm still trying to figure out when summer became the busy season of my year when I still feel very certain that it ought to be the simplest one.

Of course, this summer I'm not anticipating much busyness on my part, at least not for the next several weeks. I'm also not banking on a trip to the ocean, though I sure am hoping for one. After all, no summer is complete without the taste and smell of North-East salt water. But while I don't have many plans, my husband has his goals, including some pretty exciting-sounding outreach ministry, a turn-me-green-with-envy return trip to Spain, and getting an illusive fence built. I will sit by and enjoy that somehow I share in his work and productivity, even when it doesn't feel that I myself am contributing much.

We will attend our first wedding of the season this weekend; there are several weddings each year to attend since we are in our mid-twenties and involved in college ministry. The days before and after the wedding are both scheduled with parties. (How is it that going from party to party is so fun yet exhausting?)

Yes, the lazy but busy-with-celebration days are arriving. A new season.

I'm glad for seasons.

Tomorrow night makes 10 weeks exactly since my first bleed. Thursday will make 10 weeks since I was told I probably had a subchorionic hematoma and that 20% of all pregnant women experience this in their first trimester so I didn't need to worry about it. Saturday will make 10 weeks since we found out that my SCH was much bigger than the average SCH-- putting me in a much higher-risk category for late miscarriage-- and my activities were first restricted.

I have technically been past the point of miscarriage for 1.5 weeks. Within 2.5 weeks the baby will be considered viable by pretty much all medical standards in the US. (Check this out if you're curious about preemie survival statistics.) To write that I have much to be thankful for is an understatement.

Even so, yesterday was a day of mixed feelings and emotions. Of course I was elated to get another good report about how the baby is doing and I'm very glad that the SCH has not gotten worse, but I confess disappointment that the SCH has not resolved much since my last ultrasound. My hopes had been that all the increased risks to the baby would now be in the past and that I might return to my role as homemaker yesterday, and that's not how things played out. And so my afternoon and evening was spent reminding myself of the bigger picture, which really is big.

As of right now, I'm not entirely sure of when this strange sort of "modified bedrest" will end. As long as the SCH persists, I am at high risk of blood loss (bad, in light of my anemia) and a high risk of uterine irritability, to which my constant rounds of contractions attest (they are definitely different than typical early contractions). I'm really not a bit worried about the contractions, since they have so far only been an indication of irritability and have not "fooled" my body into labor, but they do mean that no doctor wants me up and about, at least not for another 3 weeks and most likely not for another 7. (If you take a look at the link above regarding preemie survival statistics, it isn't hard to understand their thinking.)

I would very much like to see the SCH resolved before 28 weeks. At that point, if it remains size-able, Daniel and I will have a somewhat difficult decision to make regarding my level of activity. Statistically speaking, if I've made it that far without pre-term labor, I have a very good chance of going full-term even with the SCH, so doctors will most likely let me resume normal activities. But do we increase the risk of a pre-term baby just so I can clean the house and take a walk again? On the one hand, it hardly seems worth it. On the other hand, if I let statistics dictate my choices, I would never turn my stove on, drive a car, or wear deodorant. I mean, the honest truth is that if I avoided everything that has a remote chance of going wrong, I wouldn't be pregnant in the first place.

(This is the point at which Daniel inserts himself in the conversation and says, "Just stop thinking about it, Brietta. I'll decide if it comes to that." And I'm very, very glad that he would/will. He's a good dad and a wonderful husband.)

So yeah... all that to say not much has changed since yesterday's ultrasound report. We're still at a higher risk for a number of things that I try not to think about too much (like PTL, PROM, and IUGR), and I'm still sitting on the couch, which has a permanent "Brietta-mold" on it. But it's OK. Yes, we continue anxiously believing for complete healing and yet we are simultaneously satisfied in the grace He gives for today.

P.S. Thanks for bearing with me-- I know how pregnancy-focused I have been of late. And thank you to the many who are so interested in me and who ask about the little things (like bedrest).

Ultrasound Report

If you think this newest baby gets a lot of reports, you think right! Not only did we start prenatal appointments early this time around (10 weeks as opposed to sometime between 12 and 15 weeks), it was only 1.5 short weeks later that all the subchorionic hematoma troubles began. I've been to my doctor's office 4 times, CPH 8 times, Burlington 1 time, and we just finished ultrasound #7 (yikes)-- and I'm not even 5 months pregnant yet. (Perhaps the Lord is trying to help me get over my terror of hospitals by giving me lots of opportunities to visit them. )  Daniel and I have laughingly commented that child #4 is not being "passed over" in the hustle and bustle of life with 3 other children as one might expect would be the case. We surely have taken special note of her!

Basics of today's ultrasound:

1. The persistent subchorionic hematoma is being, well, persistent. At the ultrasound 2 weeks ago, it was measuring about 8x5cm. Today it measured about 7x6cm-- just a slightly different shape. Yet there was improvement in that it has "flattened" from about 5-6cm deep to about 2-3cm deep. While I have yet to get the official report from my doctor, the technician did say that flattening is often the first step towards resolution and that it's a good sign.
2. The baby is measuring 20w2d exactly and weighs roughly about 12oz. (Ultrasound weight estimates aren't known for being very good, though the technician said it's easier to get a more accurate guess when the baby is smaller.)
   
3. The placenta remains healthy, the cord blood flow is good, and my cervix is still long. This is all great news!
4. "Oh yeah, she's definitely a girl. No doubts in my mind," declared the technician.

And now, for those of you who enjoy ultrasound photos:

This one kind of freaks me out, but at least you can see her little lips!

Nice profile shot

<Edit>I got rid of a picture because of the poor lighting.</Edit>

21 Weeks (sorry it's so blurry)


Watching a Movie Together

Memorial Day

A pick-up truck drove by the house and then slowed down. From its bed an American flag was lifted; it now hangs from a nearby streetlight.

I love our flag.

Inside my home, our simple and few red, white, and blue decorations are proudly displayed in the dining room. After all, Memorial Day is soon approaching, and I don't want to miss it. I have always been what I suppose many would describe as patriotic, though I tend to think of more as thankful.

This year, even more than any other year, I am aware of the sacrifice of others for me and for my children-- sacrifices I don't understand or comprehend or even know of.

You can be sure this deepened awareness is very much connected to thoughts of and prayers for a childhood acquaintance who is currently working hard and putting himself in danger's way overseas. The pictures of this man in uniform strikes my heart because I know his face. He was a boy. He is a husband, a son, a brother.

I am so thankful that this childhood acquaintance-- this soldier who was once a schoolmate and a fellow Children's Church attender-- is giving of himself. I am so thankful that praying for him makes my prayers for all those serving our country that much more fervent and sincere. I am so thankful that he helps me more fully appreciate what others throughout the years have sacrificed for my sake. I am so thankful that he is not waiting for this nation to be perfect before he is willing to serve its inhabitants.

On May 28th, I will watch our small town parade go by our little home, much the way I did every Memorial Day growing up. My children will wave small American flags, as I did when I was younger. I will tell them about the men and women we are honoring, the way my parents told me. I will tell them about Ken and the men and women who are today serving us.

If gratitude is patriotism then, yes, I am very patriotic. Especially this year.

I decided yesterday that designing my own house would be really hard for me. I do much better with analyzing and working with the strange crooks and crannies of an existing house than I think I would ever do trying to figure out how exactly I want everything.

Not to mention that if there's something I don't absolutely love about my house, that's OK with me. But if there ended up being something I didn't absolutely love about a house I was responsible for designing, I would be so frustrated with myself!

P.S.  Don't forget to make your guess!

Fear & Love

I have a deathly fear of labor. If you've given birth before, you probably understand. For me, when I think about labor, I start to shake, my heart rate literally increases, and I want to cry. (You think I'm kidding, but my heart is throbbing even as I write this.)

The night in January -- you know, the night after I got the call from my doctor's office saying that the earlier blood test confirmed that, yes indeed, I was pregnant -- I didn't sleep much. Instead, I spent most of those 8 hours with my face buried in the pillow, hoping in a strange, delusional sort of way that it would keep me from hysterical tears and vomiting. It wasn't that I regretted, even for a second, a new life being added to our family. I was simply overwhelmed with wanting to run away from the impending event of labor while knowing that I cannot escape my own body. (This isn't rocket science, I know, but please have grace for my irrational thoughts and feelings.)

What can I say? I'm selfish. I don't like pain. I definitely don't like labor. I don't suppose I will ever really enjoy it. And I must confess harboring a secret hope through each pregnancy that Genesis 3:16 simply won't be true this time around.

The circumstances surrounding Jackson's birth knocked the stuffing out of me in many ways. His was my third labor and delivery. It was supposed to be better than before and go more smoothly than before. And it didn't. Not only was it far worse than L&D #2, it may have been worse than L&D #1. (My boys definitely rival one another for the Traumatize-My-Mom record.)

I won't re-live it all again -- most of you know the story anyway -- except to say that Jackson's birth was long (I'm not actually sure that word does justice, but I'll leave that to my readers to decide) and stressful. I was exhausted by the time I reached transition and, in case you didn't know, exhausted women don't handle body-racking contractions very well, especially when transition lasts upwards of 4 hours.

All that to say I am very clearly hearing the voice of the Lord on this issue of fear in the past few days. I am being reminded in a fresh way that He has redeemed me -- all of me -- so that as true as Genesis 3:16 is, so also is 1 Timothy 2:15. (And even if I'm still not sure what exactly 1 Timothy 2:15 means, the bottom line is that it's good news for me.)

You see, I've tried dealing with the fear and horror of labor a handful of different ways over the past several years. At times, I've resorted to deluding myself ("It's fun, Brietta!"). At other times, I've told myself that it's just part of life and that I need to "buck up" and get over it. At still other times, I've done prenatal exercises and stretched tirelessly with the hope that physical fitness will be my key to victory. And the thing I do most of the time? Well, I try to think about something else.

I don't know why I haven't looked at the bringing forth of new life as the spiritual event that it truly is. Maybe because it all seems so physical. I also don't know why, in the times when I am choked with tears because of the fear that grips me, I don't apply perfect love. Maybe because I have simply accepted the fear and the pain as part of an irreversible curse (you can scratch your head with me on that thought-process!). And I really don't know why I have already settled that delivering children will always be hard for me, instead of asking the Lord to deliver me. Maybe because I haven't yet truly understood that He pities me and remembers my frame.

Whatever the reasons, I have felt the gentle and comforting hand of the Lord upon me in the last week. I have felt the Holy Spirit's urging to pray, to ask, to believe, and to trust as I haven't in the past. I have felt a rebuke for, in my great arrogance and pride, assuming that He hasn't noted and doesn't plan on noting my struggles in this area. And I have felt a stirring to lean on Him, not because methods, ideas, and techniques are evil, but because they are simply that: methods, ideas, and techniques.

After all, in the end, I am His and it is He who holds me in the palm of His hands. It is He who redeems my life from destruction. It is He who walks with me through every circumstance of my days.

And it is He who is trustworthy.

Isaiah 40:1-2, 10-11, 27-31
"Comfort, yes, comfort My people!" Says your God. "Speak comfort to Jerusalem, and cry out to her, That her warfare is ended, That her iniquity is pardoned; For she has received from the Lord's hand Double for all her sins." ... Behold, the Lord God shall come with a strong hand, And His arm shall rule for Him; Behold, His reward is with Him, and His work before Him. He will feed His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs with His arm, And carry them in His bosom, And gently lead those who are with young ... Why do you say, O Jacob, And speak, O Israel: "My way is hidden from the Lord, And my just claim is passed over by my God"? Have you not known? Have you not heard? The everlasting God, the Lord, The Creator of the ends of the earth, Neither faints nor is weary. His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the weak, And to those who have no might He increases strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, And the young men shall utterly fall, But those who wait on the Lord Shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint.

About My Kids

Gabriel is handsome little boy. I know I'm his mom, but he really is. His eyelashes are to die for-- no kidding. (It never fails that the boys get the great eyelashes.)

One of the gifts Gabriel received in his stocking on Christmas Day was a beginner's writing tablet. In the month following, I sat down several times with Gabriel and showed him how to write his name because I thought it would be fun for him. We tried and then I quit. My almost-4-year-old had not yet mastered how to hold a pencil properly (though his 2.5-year-old sister can), despite my repeated efforts at teaching him, and I decided it just wasn't worth it. Right then and there I, in a sudden fit of frustration, decided that Gabriel wouldn't begin kindergarten until 2009, when he is 6-going-on-7 years old.

I should know by now-- I've spent my whole life around homeschoolers and homeschooling moms-- that it's often when the mom stops trying that her children start. The other day Gabriel brought Daniel's palm pilot to me (he likes doodling on it) and showed me all the letters he had copied from the refrigerator alphabet magnets we had also given him for Christmas. They looked great!

Gabriel still plays drums at least once a day. He will announce to us all that he's "going to work" and then head upstairs for his very own private worship jam session. Sometimes he sings church songs and imitates a church drummer's beats, sometimes he writes his own stuff, and sometimes he sings Doodlebops songs.

Bronwyn likes everything pretty and girlie. She thinks Aunt Beanz's shoes are the best thing ever and pink is officially, without a doubt, her favorite color. Ribbons in her hair, sandals with bows, flowered fabrics, and earrings are among her obsessions of late. OK... any accessory of any sort is her obsession.

In contrast, she also loves playing in dirt, chasing the Tomford's goat, and wrestling with her brothers.

All in all, we might just have to say that Bronwyn has quite a bit of zest for life and loves anything and everything that looks even remotely fun or interesting.

Bronwyn is a fairly independent personality. One morning recently, Daniel-- upon waking up at 6am or so-- found her asleep on our living room couch with a stack of children's books on the nearby coffee table. When she woke up and moved to the couch, we still aren't sure. She never felt the need to find Daniel or I, which is very unlike her older brother.

Jackson holds the record as our quietest child. He doesn't really say a single word (if we're feeling generous, we might consider his "Da da" to be in direct reference to Daniel and his vocal intonations that accompany hand-waving to be his version of "Goodbye"), and he doesn't really babble much either. But don't be confused by his quiet demeanor: the boy has strong opinions and will stubbornly cling to them.

Jackson is our pickiest eater. He doesn't like meat and potatoes. He doesn't like most vegetables. He would be happy on a diet of Cheerios and bananas three times a day, but since we don't allow this, it isn't unusual for him to end a day having eaten only the few required bites of food at each meal. Oh-- and he loves anything Italian, too. But I don't really like feeding him red sauce because his entire body matches the color of his hair by the time he's finished.

This quiet, picky eater is very, very physically resilient. When he is offended, it is rarely because of actual injury and almost always because he is feeling a sense of injustice. Gabriel might sit on his head and he won't cry, but if Gabriel gets a book to look at and he doesn't, he may very well throw himself on the floor in the absolute depths of despair.

My peaches-'n-cream-complexion boy is absolutely adorable. He has the classic red-head white eyebrows and eyelashes and he has the trademark Sinclair droopy eyes. And, to top it all off, he's just plain squishy and soft and cuddly. He gives wonderful hugs.

Prenatal Appointment Synopsis (and 3rd entry in 1 day!)

Scheduled Appointment Time: 2:45pm
Actual Appointment Time: 4:05pm
Weight: 124lbs (+12lbs pre-pregnancy)
Blood Pressure: 91/61
Fundal Height: 20cm
Baby's Heart Rate: low 140s

I am so glad that the doctor and I both agree routine visits out-of-state are no longer necessary. In fact, we very much agreed that it's not necessary and she even agreed with me about keeping a very relaxed ultrasound schedule here at home. Well, we agreed on the latter until she found out that I've been having on-going symptoms this past week and decided an ultrasound next week would be wiser than waiting another 2-3 weeks.

While I have never been a huge fan of routine ultrasounds, I will definitely say that ultrasounds when there are visible complications are very reassuring. At this point, though, I have been feeling our little girl moving so often and so clearly for a couple weeks that I've stopped using the fetal doppler I have here at home for the most part. The sense of wanting to see if the baby is OK has diminished significantly so that the sense of worrying about the unnecessary effects (affects?-- I'm bad at this, too, Danica) of ultrasounds is stronger. I understand that it is important to make sure the baby is growing as the pregnancy progresses, but I am admittedly unsure of how often we should be checking. And I do feel that this decision is up to me as well as a doctor.

That said, I also understand the gut reaction of the doctor I sat across from today who said, Bleeding in pregnancy is just wrong. I want to make sure things are OK. And I that's why I told her to go ahead and schedule the ultrasound for Monday of next week.

And that basically sums up my appointment. It was a good one, and I felt more like a "normal" pregnant woman today than I have at any appointment I've had this pregnancy so far. Now I'm hoping that next Monday's ultrasound will be nothing but a report of improvement.

I've created a baby pool for our newest addition. (Can you tell yet that I'm bored these days?! We're half-way through week 9 of the modified bedrest and I'm now beyond stir-crazy!) When I add a new post, I'll move the banner/link to the top of this page so it's still readily accessible. It doesn't take long to make a guess and it would be fun for me if you did, so when you get a minute, click on the banner and let me know what you think!

*Points of reference:

1. Gabriel was born 3 days post-EDD at 10:56pm, 8lbs12oz and 21.5"
2. Bronwyn was born 8-22 (not a typo!) days post-EDD at 5:16pm, 10lbs and 22"
3. Jackson was born 4 days post-EDD at 12:52pm, 8lbs4oz and 21"

*Note: I created an "open" pool, which means that if you register before you guess, you can edit your guess in the future. Registration is free.

:: I wish I could send each of you the message from Sunday morning. Usually, I think it would be nice if sermons were available on the CFC website; the past few days, I am feeling it is a must. I have honestly never heard anything more inspiring to me as a woman and a mom as that sermon. (I really don't think the tears springing to my eyes were all because I'm pregnant and hormonal!) God's plan is an amazing and liberating one-- and if we will turn away from the prevailing humanistic teachings and our faulty human reasoning, we will reap the tremendous benefits of living as His creation.

:: This afternoon I go in for a routine prenatal appointment. I haven't actually been to my doctor's office in 5.5 weeks, but I've been to the emergency room twice and had three ultrasounds (one in Burlington) since then. Without going into too much graphic detail, I will say that I am increasingly hopeful that the hemorrhage is getting smaller. In a couple weeks I will probably have another ultrasound done in order to check on the baby's growth. By that time, we will be crossing over into the "viable" stage. A combination of baby's viability and hopefully a smaller hemorrhage may mean an end to the modified bedrest!

:: I really and truly thought that finding out that we are having a girl would inspire me to read the baby name book. It hasn't. I keep thinking, What if the ultrasounds were wrong and we have to find a boy name anyway? Daniel laughs at my skepticism because we've now had two different technicians and a radiologist declare the baby to be a girl. When I talked with my doctor last week, I told her that we were told the baby is probably a girl. Probably?! she said with a laugh. I saw those pictures, and you're having a girl!

Right now, without having looked at the baby name book or really searched for a name, the front runners are Aubrey and Honora. The latter is a family name; we would most likely call her Nora. My biggest problem with Aubrey is that, though I first heard it as a girl's name, I now know it was originally a male name and I don't like when boy names become girl names.

:: We had a wonderful weekend with Daniel's parents and youngest sister visiting. Our refrigerator and freezer are now bulging with food and meals. The kids played with Grandma almost to their hearts' content. I write "almost" because they were still very sad to see their grandparents leave and declared that they ought to stay many more days. In fact, Gabriel told us all that when people come to our house they should never be allowed to leave. I'm not sure about that sort of hospitality-- I don't think it's Biblical!

:: Daniel purchased everything necessary for a gutter to protect my tulips and future perennials yesterday, and he also returned home with 2 green plastic adirondack chairs. The chairs we've previously owned are functional but were rather unstable on our sloped lawn. My new chairs are now in the yard facing the golf course (which is a wonderful view, I might add) and are very, very comfortable. I much prefer not having the sensation of possibly tipping over at any given moment.

:: Since I mentioned perennials, I have to add that my front runners (as of yesterday afternoon) for flowers to plant along the front of our house are astilbe and/or dianthus. Daniel is voting for hostas, but I must confess to never having been particularly fond of them. Still, they are very hardy and their foliage is very attractive, so I'm not ruling them out entirely. Any input, suggestions, or criticisms on my current choices are welcome. I really want my gardens to succeed!

:: Before my prenatal appointment, I will be heading to my sister's salon for a trim and color. It's been over 2 months, which should be listed as a crime when pregnant, since my hair is growing by leaps and bounds these days. I've got the shaggy look going on, quite unintentionally! Fortunately, the last time Carina colored my hair I had her keep the highlights very similar to my natural shades, so my roots aren't horribly obvious.

:: None of my children have mild personalities or lack in opinions and ideas, which is sometimes tiring and draining. But they sure are cute and they sure do say some of the funniest, most original things. Bronwyn, in particular, cracks us up all the time. She can beat up her brothers whenever she might choose to do so and then turns around just as quickly to announce that when she gets earrings she wants them to be pink. What a girl!

My tulips were in perfect full-bloom this Mother's Day. I must say that they've been looking amazing for a couple days now! I think being shaded from the afternoon sun (they only get morning and evening sunlight), combined with much cooler weekend temperatures, will lengthen their life and my enjoyment of them.

Daniel's out buying gutters to hang along the porch roof even as I type. This is my Mother's Day gift, per request.

Now I just have to decide what mid-summer perennial to plant in front of the tulips. It has to be something that doesn't spread (I want my tulips back each year!) and that has a decent bloom-time-- and I'd also like it to be in the 18-24" range. Suggestions are welcome.

It's been very beautiful week, complete with a full-blown summer storm that whipped through our little town at about 1pm. We've been outside everyday at least once, both playing in our yard and exploring the delights of some friends' mini-farm. Well, I should take that back. The kids have been playing and exploring; I've been sitting.

I haven't minded the sitting altogether as much these last couple days, since I've gotten a change of scenery. My living room walls were getting pretty boring, I must confess. Being outside to watch the grass seemingly grow greener by the minute and my 80+ tulips explode with color helps remind me that my life has much more blessing than difficulty. (Please don't remind me that it's going to get much, much cooler this weekend.)

Considering a few others who are and have been experiencing hardship and significant attacks of the enemy also stirs me to gratitude and thanksgiving. My faith is grown as I see how He walks with these people through the valleys.

In addition, I've been encouraged by stumbling upon a group of women online who have dealt with subchorionic hematomas in the past. (Don't worry, I skip over the less encouraging stories.) There are too many reports within this group of hemorrhages that have resolved even at 24 and 28 weeks of pregnancy for me to keep believing the specialist's prediction that I will deal with this until it is expelled at d-day. There are also a number of "success" stories involving overdue, big babies, which sounds comfortingly familiar and very appealing!

Not to mention, as I sit outside and laugh at the kids' antics, the calendar slowly but surely changes dates. This weekend has some pregnancy mini-milestones, since tomorrow makes 2 whole weeks since my last bleed and Saturday is the official 1/2-way mark. I've almost made it 1 week since my last round of close-together contractions, too.

All in all, I'm genuinely-- not just in word but also in heart-- starting to have faith for and think in terms of an October baby!

Phobia

Daniel tells me it isn't normal that I check my bed thoroughly for spiders each night before I get in it.

I don't think most people shake their clothes before putting them on to make sure there are no spiders hidden in the folds.

I know it's weird that I inspect the shower for spiders each morning.

If you see my eyes darting about while I'm talking to you, it's because I honestly do check the walls and ceilings near where I am sitting for spiders.

So perhaps it's true. Perhaps I have a phobia.

Perhaps I do.

Unorganized Thoughts

I've been thinking about the trailer I watched yesterday and then shared with all of you. I have many thoughts and know there are many different reactions-- even in me!-- to what is said.

My first response is to get annoyed when I feel that I am being confronted with an agenda, until I realize that this reaction is because of growing up in a humanistic culture that tells me "agenda is bad." Agenda in and of itself isn't evil. Jesus had an agenda: to save mankind. We all have agendas. Mine, unfortunately, is too often to get my children to make my day pleasant. That's a bad agenda. I am trying to make the agenda of my life to know Jesus and am working daily to make the smaller agendas within that over-arching agenda Christ-like. This does impact my speech, behavior, and convictions in every sphere of life, and it's a good agenda so that's OK. If the agenda of this particular movie is to bash American medicine, I'm not a fan; if the movie is intended to educate women, I'm all for it. (I'm not sure it will, but perhaps that's my pessimism speaking.)

My second response to this is, "Yes!" I am guessing there are too many OB-GYNs who opt for C-sections not just because of the convenience or for insurance reasons, but also because of what it means for their pocketbook. (Even if there was only one OB-GYN with such an agenda, that's too many, in my humble opinion!) I think it might be true that a regular labor and delivery floor doesn't bring in much revenue, but that an OR sure does. The more medical intervention, the higher the cost. I know I look at my hospital bill with Gabriel compared to my independent birth center delivery bill with Bronwyn, and I must say that my eyes get big at the price difference. Modern medicine costs a lot and I think we should try to save the $$$ for when needed. (I realize that "need" is very relative, depending on what doctor and/or woman you're talking to, which is one of the major complications in all of this.)

My third response is to say very heartily that I am so thankful for medical advances. I can almost say I'm even glad for pitocin , since there would have otherwise been a C-section for me when delivering Gabriel (it may have been a C-section even with pitocin if I hadn't had midwives who really took my wishes into consideration). Because of my anemia, I now require pitocin shots immediately after birth; after Jackson's birth I needed an emergency IV with fluid because I hemorrhaged so suddenly and badly. And you'd better believe that as I sit here at 19 weeks pregnant with a real possibility of pre-term labor, I'm beyond grateful that hospitals can now regularly sustain a 24-week gestation baby-- sometimes even a 23-week'er. What a truly amazing blessing.

My fourth response is that I really like the last thing the one doctor said: Deliver at home, but within 15 minutes of a hospital. I'm not saying people have to deliver at home (I'm not to the place where I can handle the idea of the mess and my husband's not to the place where he can handle any of it!), but I think there's something to be said for approaching pregnancy as a natural thing. That doctor's attitude was a reasonable one and I appreciated it. Leave the procedures and medicines for when they are necessary-- not for when they're more convenient or comfortable and can actually cause more problems than they're worth.

I will say that I am recently discovering how poorly educated many women are when it comes to pregnancy and delivery. I think I'm just now realizing this because I've generally been surrounded by mothers who are deeply invested and have gladly sacrificed time toward learning about different procedures, medicines, side-effects, emergency-situations, etc. In these last several weeks, per recommendation from my doctor, I've hit up some pregnancy forums (you know: find women who have faced similar situations and see what they have done/didn't do that may have helped). I am amazed as I browse these forums by some of the things women are saying and doing. It has not been uncommon for me to read about women who are having their membranes stripped at 35 and 36 weeks because they're "uncomfortable" and want to be done with pregnancy. I certainly appreciate that there are huge discomforts and inconveniences to pregnancy, but I am shocked that more women don't have doctors who are saying, "Honey, when you signed on, you signed on for 40 weeks. Let's talk about stripping membranes when you're 40 weeks." I'm even more shocked that these doctors don't take the time to tell these women what a difference those last 4-5 weeks can make for the baby and that the process shouldn't be cut short unless necessary for the survival of baby and/or mother; they just strip her membranes because she asked and then she maybe finds out via an online forum that it may not have been the best decision. So, yes, if a movie like this can help educate us moms, I'm all for it.

One thing I've joked about over these past 7 weeks is that after listening to doctors, radiologists, and specialists, I have to then figure out whether it's them talking or their malpractice insurance talking! Yes, I'm making light of it, but there's some truth in this. I often wonder how many times doctors turn to medical procedures they wouldn't personally choose because our American culture values medical science over God's design.

Those are just some thoughts from me. Not very organized, but there nonetheless. I'd love to hear more from others.

On an entirely different note, I tried sitting outside in the beautiful sun today two different times in two different locations. Both times I endured about 30 minutes of yellow jackets landing on my shoulders, elbows, nose, hair, chair, book, etc. before I finally got too freaked out by the increasingly real probability of getting stung and I ran inside like the big ol' scaredy cat that I am. To that end, I am lodging my first official complaint about these products, which I otherwise love: I think bees love them, too.

I thought this video certainly was interesting.

(Disclaimer: I have no idea what the rest of the site is about or trying to promote. I also don't know how accurate their statistics actually are or if the particular agenda of this group is slanting the truth at all.)

Our Report

We had a long but good afternoon in Burlington.

Well, I should take that back. The time in Burlington wasn't long; the time driving to and from seemed far longer than the 3 hours each direction that it was. I know that many prefer scenic routes to thruways that barrel along with nary a sight to see, but at least I don't get carsick on the thruway. Driving through small town after small town in fairly intense sunlight, no interstates or steady speeds or straight paths, made my stomach feel... well... yucky. It reminded me of when I first moved to Pittsburgh and just driving to church from our townhouse (a whole 6 miles!) made me feel sick.

At any rate, we got there, and without significant illness on my part.

The ultrasound was very thorough. First I spent 30 minutes with a technician who was funny and talkative and pointed out every single thing that she did (I thought that was nice since, as a mom, I enjoy learning about all things pregnancy-related). Then I spent 30 minutes with a radiologist who's been doing this for over 20 years and was very good. My favorite part about having the radiologist actually doing the ultrasound was that we didn't have to wait to hear what she was finding: she told us right away.

From the ultrasound, I would say that the two biggest things we learned were that 1. our local hospital has done a very thorough and excellent job at diagnosing what's going on and, 2. *insert drumroll* we are almost definitely having a baby girl! (Daniel, who officially went on the record as guessing girl last week, is once again right and I am once again wrong!*) There weren't any significant changes or surprises concerning the placental hemorrhage, which is still very present and very size-able, and yet our baby is continuing to grow without the slightest hint of a problem. (They estimate that she is up to almost 9oz now.)

Following the ultrasound, we had a consult with a specialist right there in the OB wing. She was a very thorough woman who spoke plainly but without unnecessary negativity. She took the time to draw pictures of what different subchorionic bleeds can look like, what mine specifically is, how the placement and size of the bleed puts me at risk for different things, what I can do in the meantime, and how she envisions the rest of my prenatal care. Many fears were virtually put to rest by knowing more about the hemorrhage itself, and now Daniel and I feel that we can intelligently pray about how to proceed from here.

As I sat in the exam room waiting for the specialist, I started imagining her coming in and telling me that life could go back to normal. That didn't happen. But I'm still praying for a complete resolution and healing of this hemorrhage (I don't care that specialists have only confirmed that this problem will persist and threaten the duration of the pregnancy) because I haven't a doubt that sickness is not His portion for me or this baby. I truly believe that the reason this pregnancy is an anomaly today is because God sovereignly intervened at a time when babies are typically lost, due to the size of my hemorrhages, and protected this baby's life. Not only that, but He has made two hemorrhages one, and that one is slowly but steadily decreasing in size. (Yesterday it was about 9x7x5cm.)

Yes, I am still on bedrest. This is not so much because anyone in any way envisions this "fixing" the situation, but more as an important tool in protecting me from symptoms (mainly, ongoing bleeding). I am always surprised by how strongly the medical community reacts to my anemia because, to me, it's just part of life and pregnancy. I forget that coming home from Jackson's birth with a hemoglobin level of 6.2 is not normal to the point of being dangerous and that I am fortunate to have a doctor who didn't absolutely insist on a blood transfusion. My marching orders for the rest of the pregnancy are to avoid blood loss at all costs, to take my prescription iron diligently, and to eat high-iron foods as much as possible-- particularly animal protein since I could also use more protein in my diet.

The specialist in Burlington would, of course, like to see me every 4 weeks or so from here on in (well, she made it sound like she'd prefer every 2 weeks but, because of how far we have to drive, would be okay with every 4 weeks-- assuming there are no more complications). This is one of the things Daniel and I need to pray about. I feel very strongly, especially after yesterday's visit to Burlington, that my doctor and local radiologists have done an excellent job at diagnosing and tracking the bleeds. Personally, I would rather let them do the continued care, unless they at any time see something alarming enough to warrant another opinion, which I feel they are honest and humble enough to ask for.

The biggest risk we are facing is pre-term labor, since this pool of blood could easily irritate my uterus and, in turn, my uterus could try to expel it. But as of now (I think largely because the bleed has moved to the end of the placenta instead of being directly underneath it) I'm only at about a 25% risk for that (a "normal" pregnancy faces a 7-10% for pre-term labor). I told Daniel after the appointment that pre-term labor for me would be 38 weeks with a 7lb baby, so we've got nothing to worry about!

If you want the more detailed report, let me know and I'll e-mail you. There's simply too much to write on here.

(Oh, and no name yet. Sorry.)


<Edit>*I have to note that I'm not always wrong about the gender. With Gabriel, both Daniel and I thought beforehand that we were having a boy. When pregnant with Jackson, I vacillated back and forth a lot and never really felt sure either way. The funny thing is that when I was expecting Bronwyn, I really thought she was a boy. Like, I really thought that. So I'm 1 for 3 (I never really made a guess with Jack, which I suppose could also be counted against me) and Daniel is 4 for 4, which definitely gives him bragging rights. Oh well...! </Edit>

We'll soon be off for our 2:30pm ultrasound and consultation in Burlington, Vermont. If you stop by and see this message and picture, please pray for God to be glorified!

almost 19 weeks

Stuff and Nonsense

:: It's a really pretty spring day. I know I've been writing for days and days that my tulips are looking better and better, but they really and truly are! I'm enjoying every bit of growth! And the great news is that they definitely seem to be too close to the road to tempt rabbits, so we haven't had as much as a single nibble. Unfortunately, the UPS man has taken out a couple tulips by walking through them instead of around them, but that rant should be saved for another time and day.

It's the kind of day when you hear lawns being mowed, smell debris raked from gardens being burned, and see the bluest of skies without a hint of a cloud for miles. I love how clear North Country skies are year-round. After living in an overcast area for four years, I think I will never take these skies for granted again.

It's the kind of day when you get goose-bumps from the sudden mild breeze; the kind of day when you're hot without the window cracked in your car.

:: Liana arrived this morning with an overnight bag, violin and music stand, and books. She'll be taking up residency in our guest room much of the next week while Daniel tries to get through the end-of-the-semester bustle. It is fun to have her here. It is even more fun to look forward, on behalf of my small children, to a more consistent routine and voice of authority.

(Is it trivial to find peace in not having to tell her where the ingredients for PB&J are, or which dresser belongs to which child, or what time the kids usually take naps? Because I'm finding it peaceful.)

:: I spent an hour at the hospital this morning getting the shot I require because of having Rh- blood. There aren't a great deal of things I dislike about living in a rural area, but having to go to the ER for a rather routine shot is a bit annoying, I must confess. Especially since ER nurses don't seem to realize that it isn't necessary to push the fetal doppler into my abdomen.

Honestly, I felt like taking the doppler from her and doing it myself-- especially after I had to tell her that she was clocking my heartbeat and not the baby's.

:: Tomorrow Daniel and I will spend the day in Burlington, VT for a level 2 ultrasound and consultation. I am praying for our second good report.

:: Our Easter decorations are still out, one month later. The lawn needs to be mowed and a number of screens that were broken last summer by small hands need to be replaced. Our refrigerator shelves are a bit of a disgrace and winter snowsuits are still hanging in our laundry room.

What can I say? There are bigger fish to fry right now.

Bath Time

I think the era of all the kids in the bath at the same time is coming to a close.

This is not because they don't all three fit at the same time. They do (and quite well, I might add-- so long as nobody gets greedy and decides to lay down).

The problem is the amount of water that ends up outside the bathtub by the time three rambunctious children under age 5 have been thoroughly cleaned. You might not believe me, but following baths tonight when I used the bathroom, about 1/2" of my hem got soaked. I felt as though I was wading through a small stream just to get to the toilet. And this extreme soaking of the bathroom is accomplished even with strict enforcement of our "No splashing" rule, which is right up there with rules like "Don't tell Mom you hate her" and "Stay out of the road."

I know, I know... water on the floor isn't a particularly terrible problem or even one of the worst problems encountered in parenting. In fact, bath time usually leads to an impromptu mopping of the floor (when there's that much water, one might as well add some Mr. Clean and do the job right), and mopping can never be considered an awful thing.

But, seriously, what parent, after the whole bathing experience (which, of course, requires tricks and entertainment to prevent blood-curdling screams due to water in eyes, wrestling with pudgy fingers and toes to get fingernails and toenails cleaned and trimmed, chasing the naked baby around the house with onesie and pjs in hand, and then brushing long, tangled toddler-hair to the tune of sobbing by said toddler), really has the energy to mop the bathroom floor?

Not I!


*Note* Before any of my readers panic, I was not the one bathing children tonight. The credit all goes to my amazing husband. And, yes, he just finished mopping the floor.

P.S. I just read over this and thought, "Whatever happened to the days of putting my one child in the tub simply because it was fun for him and gave me 30 minutes of peace?!"

Anonymous & Opening

I just have to note that comments can now be made on xanga sites anonymously. I think this is great, since now non-xanga'ers (xangans???) can comment on my site without having to sign up or do annoying word verifications every single time they comment (which has been my reason for not wanting to move from xanga to another spot like, well, blogspot; I can't see how going through that process is any more convenient than simply signing up for commenting privileges).

Unfortunately for my brother and brother-in-law, this new development basically means I will become the permanent xanga resident they have tried to convince me not to be. Xanga's just too easy for me. You see, I'd rather spend my time writing than fooling around with html and layouts. I always wanted to be a communications major, not a designer or programmer.

Sorry guys!

<Edit>I've been duly corrected about the word verification thing. Ugh. What those spammers make the rest of us legitimate folks go through!</Edit>


* * * * *

Here's a photo from the ribbon-cutting at the Grand Opening of 57 Market last Wednesday afternoon. Yay!

<Edit #2>57 Market is the new CFC campus ministry downtown, storefront location. It's within walking distance of 2 of the 4 area universities and is a pretty nice spot, if I do say so. Rent, utilities, and furnishings are all paid for with donations. We have a 3-year lease with an extension for 2 more years at the end of that, should we choose to stay. It's pretty exciting, I think!</Edit>