seven months

I meant to write an update on Aubrey when we reached the six months post-op mark. Truly, I did.

And then it got swallowed up in a final, crazy, and somewhat hectic push to get the new house ready for habitation. The thought was there, but the time was not.

So here we are, April 14th. We're 4 days past seven months since Aubrey had corrective open heart surgery, and she continues to thrive.

Just yesterday, I was trying to catch up on ordering prints for our photo albums and I couldn't believe how much healthier she looks now than she did a year ago. It's been gradual in many ways-- especially since she came home severely anemic and, of course, recovering from surgery-- and so I don't always see it. But as I looked over snapshots from 2015, I couldn't help but note the purple lips in every summer picture, the abdomen swollen disproportionately with fluid retention, the puffy toes.

I had taken those things as normal.

I didn't even know there was a better.

But no more.

And, granted, she's still not 100% like other kids. I don't know if she'll ever be, but suddenly I have a picture into what God can do, and so I assume nothing. His plans are good for her, that much I know. And the trial by fire that this unique little girl has already gone through has been used by the Lord to make her strong and sober.

Her heart beats in what's called a junctional rhythm when she's resting, but a 24-hour test plus some simple in-office tests indicated that whenever she's active, it slips into a proper rhythm. This may be one of those things that sorts itself out in time or she may live the rest of her life with it. So far, it's not a reason for a pacemaker, that's for sure.

Next fall, they want to do a heart catheterization to look at her heart after a year. We are already praying for a great report.

In the meantime, she really is thriving. Growing. Improving. Wide-eyed. Laughing more. Interested more. Attitude-y more! Whenever she stomps her foot and tosses her hair, I am immediately struck by the spark that is there that we've never before encountered. When she chases Oliver around and around the dining room table and I wonder why she's acting like a toddler, I remember that she never had those normal toddler years. Even these things are an indication of the vitality that has replaced lethargy.

Academics, which have up until now been a S T R U G G L E, are gradually beginning to click for her. She finished her 1st grade math, which she'd been doggedly plugging away at for over a year, and is now half way through Math 2. She is making up ground every single day!

Last summer, she suddenly became aware of the fact that she couldn't read when all her peers could. It's been agonizing to her. We keep encouraging her to just keep working at it, and she has done just that. I am far prouder of her discipline and determination than I am of the fact that words are starting to come together for her. God will use this, just like He will use ALL of it.

She finished her first year playing organized basketball and will soon begin playing junior softball. She came into the season with ZERO ball experience and ended with a confidence and interest.

 

 

Her lips and fingers are pink. Her eyes sparkle. She doesn't ever look puffy. I can never take such simple things for granted again!

it's done

Aubrey underwent a very complicated and difficult open heart surgery on Thursday, September 10th. She was sedated and in the OR for 8-1/2 hours. 5 of those hours were spent on the bypass machine. All of them were spent with what I am convinced is one of the most talented and committed pediatric cardiac surgical teams operating on her.

And it worked.

I have to pause after I write that. Those words still make my cry.

Aubrey's heart is fully repaired. Not only was the surgeon able to do the more difficult repair, but he was able to do it without the use of anything foreign: her heart is 100% hers, with no additional conduits or valves. This is beyond any of our expectations. We hadn't even thought to hope for such a thing.

I have a clear memory of standing in the kitchen eight years ago, on a sunny day much like today, having returned home from those first whirlwind weeks of Aubrey's life, except that then there was a big knot in my stomach, a pit that refused to go away. It taunted me, it would rob my joy if it could, it made swallowing hard, even in the happy moment of knowing Aubrey was alive. My daughter was not well, the future was uncertain, and I was helpless to change it. In that moment, and in many subsequent moments, I had to grapple with faith-- that which we hold onto even though we do not see-- like I'd never grappled before.

Today, I stand here in this same kitchen (albeit entirely remodeled), and instead of wondering if, when, how my precious baby girl might have a working heart, I know she does.

I don't know if I can communicate with mere words just what this means to me.

September 10, 2015 will always be horrible and wonderful and miraculous in my memory. Staying strong before we said good bye was so very, very, very hard, not being able to do anything but wait during the following hours even harder. Getting the report that the surgeon was "going for it"-- beginning the riskier, much more difficult procedure-- against many odds and contrary to the advice of many cardiologists he himself said he respected deeply split my heart in two: I wanted the better fix for Aubrey and yet, in a wave of doubt, I wondered if this was it... if I would ever see her alive again. The phone call that came many hours, countless tears, unending prayers later, saying that he had done it, that he was very pleased, that now it was just a matter of seeing if it would work, and feeling like I was able to take my first real breath all day. Hearing that it had worked, that her heart was functioning, that it was a total repair, and exhaling deeper than I have in almost 8 years. Realizing when talking with the surgeon a little later that it was the best possible outcome; that he really had been stretched but that he'd gone for it because he saw something; that his courage and compassion had allowed him to be used by the Lord for our daughter's healing; and tasting in the most aching parts of my heart that He truly is a God who does exceedingly, abundantly above all that we can ask or think. Seeing her wheeled through the hall, pink fingers and toes, chest moving rhythmically up and down with each breath, surrounded by the same doctors and nurses who had so tenderly and graciously met her/us that morning and who had stayed by her side every minute of that whole day, and seeing more clearly how much He loves to use people.

It will be two weeks tomorrow since she underwent that surgery. And when I say total repair, I mean that her blood is flowing exactly where it needs to go. All of it. Her oxygen saturation levels, which had steadily dropped over the years to the 70s when resting and much lower when walking, were 99% when she was tested at her cardiologist's office today. She has all four chambers and all four valves in working order.

Even in the hospital, they kept saying, "Miracle."

It truly was. She truly is.

My brother sent a text the day of the surgery, "We're the persistent widow, yo!"

And all day I kept picturing the thousands of prayers being prayed on her behalf rising like incense. I had a confidence that we were doing our part: asking, asking, asking.

At around the 3pm hour, about mid-way through the surgery we now know, I whispered to Daniel, "I'm so scared. I just got so scared."

I didn't want to be. I wanted to be the woman of faith. I wanted to be able to say on the other end that my faith never wavered, but here I was and I could only weep, "I believe, Lord; help my unbelief."

My husband leaned in close to my ear and said so softly, "His presence is the answer, Brietta, and we already have Him."

God with us. Emmanuel. And in my heart I knew like I've never known before, this is when He is strong.

Aubrey has a testimony. Ever since she was 11 weeks in the womb, the fight for her life has been real. But she is here, and she is breathing, and she is whole. If I took a couple hours I would struggle to tell the many details of this miraculous story; I look forward to years of telling it at church and around cups of coffee and on the street, and I look forward to years of hearing her tell it.

I stop and I wonder who all the people are that her story will touch. And I pray that she will be faithful to declare Christ in and through and above it all.

Postponed

A bit ago we got a phone call saying that Aubrey's surgery would almost definitely be postponed beyond the originally scheduled date of August 20th. We had been forewarned that this could happen as it is not uncommon for emergency surgeries to backlog the surgeon's schedule and OR. Last week we were told that it would indeed be pushed back due to a number of patients whose health took a sudden turn for the worse.

As much as this initially sent me into a bit of a tailspin, I couldn't help but be thankful that "sudden turn for the worse" isn't how Aubrey is described. Her decline has been that-- a decline-- but it has been gradual and expected and quite honestly even slower than predicted. I am so deeply thankful for this.

The make-up date is tentatively set for September 10th. There's a possibility it will be sooner, but it's most likely going to be then. After a day or two of adjusting emotionally, I realized the multitude of ways this seems better, and I don't even see all that our Heavenly Father sees as He orchestrates our lives! Daniel will now certainly be here when our church transitions back to two services for the fall and reception of the college students back into the area, I will have the time to start our oldest 3 children on some basic schooling that they can then plug away at in my absence, we have more opportunities to show our house (which we put on the market a little less than 2 weeks ago), Daniel will have time to train up a new office assistant the church just hired for him, and I might even get the chance to swap summer/winter clothes (though right now, as we're in the middle of a 4-day high 80s/low 90s stretch, that seems almost ridiculous to think about!) before we head out. Little blessings all along the way.

Aubrey is, of course, very disappointed that she will now pretty certainly be in the hospital for her birthday (September 13), but the truth is that even if we'd made it home post-surgery by then, any celebration we would have would have been very quiet/simple. It feels like a big thing in an almost-8-year-old's world so I'm trying to have compassion for her genuine heartbreak while reminding her that the Lord really and truly does work all things together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

Please spread the word about the surgery date, and I will do my best to continue updates here as we go. Thank you again for praying. We are comforted and strengthened daily, and it means more than words could ever say.

Surgery

It's been quiet in this space, and largely because there is an update looming that I have dragged my proverbial feet about for quite a few months now. Somehow talking about it is easier than writing, and even that isn't easy.

But here goes.
Aubrey, who will be a miraculous eight years old on September 13, is scheduled for open heart surgery on August 20 at Strong Memorial in Rochester. This has been a long-anticipated but much-dreaded necessary course of action since the day of her birth. I tell myself I should just be glad that it's been almost eight years-- seven years and many months longer than we ever thought it would be!-- but the truth is that despite an unwavering confidence that the Lord is leading us and that this is the step of faith He's calling us to in these days, there are those few minutes every single day when I can do nothing but cry.

The surgery is technically an elective surgery. She is not on death's doorstep. Indeed, we could put it off or choose to never have it done at all if we wanted, opting instead for simply enjoying whatever days she has left. The surgeon and her cardiologists have made that clear to us at repeatedly. Yet their professional advice is that her health has declined to a point that they feel it necessary to take action, and they feel now is a good time: she is big enough that they are hopeful they'll be able to put a full-sized valve/conduit in her heart and still she is young enough to have a better chance at a speedy recovery. As we talked and talked and talked with them (they have been wonderful to the point of the surgeon, a big-wig with plenty of important things to be doing, giving us his personal cell phone number so we can call him any time with questions), we repeatedly felt the Lord telling us to, once again, make faith our friend and fear our enemy.

If this feels like quite an abrupt shift from the report in November following her heart catheterization, believe me when I say I was shocked when I read the letter in December myself. I just hadn't seen it coming. But in hindsight, I realized that although the procedure gave them confidence that she was doing okay, it also gave them more information about her heart that then enabled them to discuss with their [very large] team a more concrete plan of action moving forward. They finally reached a consensus about what kind of surgery they thought she should have (remember, her heart is so unusual that there is no standard protocol) and, with that, feeling like the risk of organ damage due to her steadily declining blood oxygen saturation was no longer worth it.

The surgery will be a very involved one. Despite their best attempts at explaining to us exactly what they'll be doing, I really only understand that they will be adding a conduit/valve for the purpose of re-routing oxygenated blood to the proper side of Aubrey's heart so that it can be more efficiently spread to her body. After that, they will patch the hole that currently allows any oxygenated blood to make it to her body at all-- a hole that has been good for her in the short-term because it's the reason she's alive at all, but not good for her in the long-term. Many of you are familiar with the idea that her heart is "backwards"; this won't really be changing as they will simply be trying to get blood where it needs to go. They have told us to anticipate the surgery taking 8-12 hours. Her recovery will most likely be 2-3 weeks in the hospital followed by another 2-3 months before we can resume life "as usual".

Since April we have been making plans. Slowly and at times with much procrastination on my part because-- I won't lie-- it all feels very overwhelming. But bit by bit, it's coming together. And, of course, as overwhelming as it feels, I can't help but feel thankful that we have the opportunity to make plans instead of having it all thrust on us suddenly.

Obviously, we deeply covet your prayers. I can't even tell you how much strength of heart the prayers of others gave me in the days surrounding Aubrey's birth. This time around, it is not just my heart that needs to be strengthened, but a seven-year-old girl's, too.

In the past weeks since we began handing out prayer cards* there has been a steady stream of emails, messages, notecards, and gifts sent to us/her that have been such a tangible expression of God's tender care. Just the other day she curled her ever-lengthening body onto my lap and burst into tears, "Why do I have to have a bad heart? Why do I have to have surgery?" Among some of the things we considered and tearfully discussed were the ways the Lord so generously pours out His love even in the midst of the storm-- and so often at the gracious hands of individuals whose hearts are led by Him.

Many, many, many thanks to those of you who have been praying, and many, many, many thanks to those of you who will be. It truly is the greatest gift you can give.

*I have physical copies of this prayer card yet available and would be happy to send them out. Please just get in touch with me and I will gladly and gratefully do so.

And she cleared it!

When Aubrey was in the NICU as a newborn, her team of cardiologists began calling her "The Unsinkable Aubrey Paladin" because she seemed to defy medical odds and projections at every turn. In the most recent letter we received from them (in which they asked to do the heart catheterization because of their concerns about increasing pressure in her heart) they wrote, "Aubrey continues to stump the stars."

We know beyond a shadow of a doubt Who is upholding this precious girl. The One who fashioned her, deposited His likeness in her, and knew long before we did that there was anything wrong with her has sustained her and caused her to thrive even when she shouldn't.

Well, Aubrey faced another hurdle-- and she has cleared another hurdle!

Just... tears and relief and incredible, mind-blowing, breath-evaporating awe that she continues to have this testimony. It's like every single time they make a projection or have a concern about Aubrey's declining health, God just keeps strengthening and renewing her.

The specific concern-- dangerously increasing pressure in her heart-- has been totally alleviated by the heart catheterization done this morning. In the words of her doctor to Daniel just in the last hour, spoken with a chuckle, "We are free to continue with our game plan, which is... to Sit Tight!"

My little trooper did a great job at enduring the procedure. Her doctors did a terrific job and the nurses are currently spoiling her like crazy.

Most of all, God continues to show Himself strong on Aubrey's behalf. May He be glorified more and more and more in her life!

Another hurdle

Tomorrow morning, Aubrey will face a small hurdle in this race she's running. Her cardiologists have asked to do a heart catheterization in order to investigate what has looked, in recent echocardiograms, like increasing pressure in her pulmonary artery. It is a very minor procedure in the grand scheme of things, but the outcome could bear significantly on how soon she would need major heart surgery.

We prayed for her yesterday in church and I humbly ask that if she comes to mind, you pray with me for her tomorrow, as well.

She has been counting down the days, but not in fear. On the contrary, she is making a special, "just her" trip with Daddy and has been beyond excited as she looks forward to it! In turn, I am beyond blessed by this amazing man who has helped carry her (and me) through each day of her life.

I just love her scrunched-up-with-happiness nose in this picture as her daddy arrived home and then whisked her off on this adventure a bit ago!

I'll do my best to update on the results whenever we get them.

a Whole 30 breakfast

Since our month of eating Whole 30, Daniel and I have been much more aware of the negative effects of many foods that we used to regularly eat. The truth is that each person is going to "feel" foods differently, and it's super helpful to "learn" your body.

It seems silly to say because, well, didn't I know this (at least a little?!), but I've realized that sugar really bothers me. Way more than it bothers a lot of people. Like, my body is hyper-sensitive to it.

Not that it makes me hyper. (I kind of wish it did, since there are days I could use some hyper in my energy levels, actually!)

On the contrary, it makes me sluggish. It makes my stomach ache. It makes my eyes tired! It throws my pH balance way off. It makes me irritable.

And I can so easily become addicted to it.

This doesn't just apply to sugar, but all foods that the body quickly turns to glucose. Bread, pasta, rice, white potatoes, and basically all the goodness that I love and think of when I think of "special". (Scones, muffins, cinnamon buns, cookies, anyone???) I still eat that stuff, but I'm trying to keep it to what it needs to be for me: special.

To help balance the stuff that is bothersome and to combat hunger that leads to choices that wouldn't be very good for me, for the past month we've continued to do our best to eat Whole 30 for at least two meals a day. If I eat a breakfast that is Whole 30, I find that I'm full enough to make it through the morning without reaching for something quick and handy, which, let's be honest, is almost always something that's not Whole 30. That then leads to a better, more planned lunch rather than eating whatever will get in my belly the fastest.

One of our favorite and almost daily Go-To breakfasts is roasted veggies with fried or poached eggs for us and scrambled eggs for the kids. The veggies can be chopped the day before or first thing in the morning and then they get popped in the oven to roast while we busy ourselves with running, showering, having quiet times, etc. The eggs get cooked at the last minute. Easy-peasy and so, so, so yummy.

I'm telling you: if you don't like the sounds of this breakfast, it's because you've never had roasted veggies!

Pictured below is the tray just before I mixed it all with some olive oil, freshly ground black pepper, and kosher salt. There's nothing tricky about this. All I did was light a candle, turn on some Joni Mitchell, and chop for a blissfully quiet and still-dark 15 minutes before kids were all awake and I was catapulted into another busy day.

From top to bottom: mushrooms, parsnips, sweet potatoes, eggplant, red onion, and fresh thyme & rosemary. Roast in the oven at 400- or 425-degrees (depending on your oven) for 45-60 minutes. I like mine pretty caramelized (ie done)! Topped with a poached egg, which I devoured before I thought to take a picture, it was UH-MAZE-ING.

seven years

When Aubrey was born seven years ago, there were naturally questions that tormented my heart and mind, especially in the first two days and then persisting through the nighttime hours when fears and grief seem to inevitably expand in the weight of darkness.

Why, God?
What did I do wrong?
Where are You in this?
Why won't You make it all go away?

I would say day by day except that early on it truly was moment by moment, He washed me with the Word, some verses becoming so familiar that at times I would find my lips forming the words even before awakening fully came. I clung so very desperately to the hope of eternity, to the promise of His love.

The truth is that I had to; I felt emptied and stripped of everything else.

I distinctly remember standing at the kitchen sink one evening shortly after we had brought Aubrey home from the neonatal intensive care unit, washing dishes, a candle flickering on the window sill before me. I could hear the sounds of Daniel readying children for bed upstairs. The furnace was blowing, comfortingly noisy, and everything was very normal after an up-until-then turned-upside-down fall.

Except that it wasn't normal.

My infant daughter had a totally messed up heart; a heart so unique in its messed-up-ness that nobody could even tell me what to expect, nobody could tell me what kind of surgery she would need, nobody could tell me how long she would probably live.

The sick, aching pit of it all was there in my stomach, mostly under the surface but my constant companion, all the time.

And that was when the work of the Holy Spirit really began.

I had to stop asking questions. I had to stop the inward tantrum that I wanted to shout at every turn: it isn't fair! I had to stop fearing the worst and dreading the future. I had to give up, put off, lay aside, let die in order for the fruit of the Spirit to grow large in my heart and life.

Again, He washed me with the Word and He began to teach me how present He is in the midst; how to be thankful in every situation; how to treasure the eternal ways I had been permanently changed by Aubrey; how to cherish each moment better through having learned more intimately just how fragile life really is. He taught me how to see His handiwork in the darkest moments I had ever faced.

Fast forward seven years: seven years full of celebration, miraculous sustaining, marvelous good health! Moments along the way of testing and worry and battle, but a victory journey-- including coming off of all medications within a few short years-- overall, especially as time after time, the inevitable (but "the what kind" still up for debate) surgery gets pushed off yet again as Aubrey's vibrancy and vitality has made it unnecessary to undertake something so risky.

Still, in July I felt the familiar tentacles of fear wrapping around my heart as I began noticing Aubrey's coloring turning blueish more frequently. In spite of a less-than-humid summer, she complained about the heat and the sun more than usual. Fingers and face and toes got swollen much more easily. Her own awareness of the limitations of her heart dawned and now it was not only my eyes but also her own eyes filling with tears about it all at times.

Finish that off with confirming her poorest blood oxygen saturation levels yet (79%) in August.

Another opportunity to walk in faith. Another opportunity to reject the questions, the raised fists, the doubts. Another opportunity to give up, put off, lay aside, let die in order for the fruit of the Spirit to grow large in my heart and life.

And now to let Him grow large in her heart and life, too.

I don't know what the rest of Aubrey's days will look like. I have learned and continue to learn that I don't need to know with her any more than I know with the rest of my children. The same God who holds each of our lives in His hands holds her life, too. He has proven that He works and He works and He works. In me. Through me. In her. Through her. To grow, to build, to further.

We continue this victory journey, knowing that the real victory is when we stand before Him, face to face, and declare once and for all, "You are faithful to the end."

eating Whole 30

To clear up any confusion about Whole 30 and our intent in trying it, I just want to begin by saying this is not meant to be a "forever" way of eating. It's meant to be a nutritional reset, an opportunity to cleanse your gut, a chance to eliminate foods that may negatively affect your skin, joints, digestion, and general health. The goal is to find which foods bother you and then, armed with that knowledge, adjust your on-going diet accordingly-- not to say you don't ever eat those bothersome foods, but that at least now you know that cupcake or the plate of pasta or the bowl of popcorn is the reason you feel a little/lot lousy that night!

In light of that, Whole 30 has you eliminate all foods that are common triggers of negative health for a lot of people:

• all grains and legumes, including quinoa and rice and soy
• sugar, including natural sugars like real maple syrup and honey, sweeteners, and alcohol
• dairy
• seed oils

Things you eat:

• all natural, grass-fed meat & poultry (no nitrates, nitrites, sugar, etc added)
• wild-caught fish and seafood
• vegetables of all kinds, by the pound
• healthy fats, like avocado and coconut oil and almonds
• fruit, in moderation

For us, dinner wasn't too different than what we normally eat, and I imagine that would be the case for many people. Even lunch, though it meant we couldn't grab a sandwich, didn't feel wildly different. Breakfast-- particularly for me, as I am famous for not really eating breakfast at all-- was definitely where I felt Whole 30 the most. (Not that I don't like breakfast foods, but I used to always prefer eating them for dinner.)

And, of course, not being able to get a bowl of ice cream or eat a brownie after the kids go to bed. Not that I ever did that before. *cough, cough*

However, breakfast has become my favorite meal! It really only took a week before I realized how much it sets the tone for the rest of the day for me.

Routinely eggs as the protein. Southwestern omelet, minus the cheese and milk, but loaded with all the good stuff-- peppers and onions and mushrooms-- and topped with Whole 30 compliant salsa, black olives, jalapeno, and cilantro (pictured above with avocado and roasted potatoes on the side). *Note: potatoes are allowed, though we only ate them twice the whole time since they're not the best option.* Prosciutto egg cups were a big hit. We would eat them with a sauteed-in-coconut-oil veggie hash made with things like sweet potatoes, zucchini, summer squash, onions, bell peppers, celery, and more (also pictured above, after I had consumed a good amount of my veggies because I didn't always think to take a picture before diving in!). I made frittata a couple times with coconut milk and that was great with a whole variety of vegetables! My personal favorite was roasted veggies of any kind with poached eggs on top: sweet potatoes and carrots or broccoli and mushrooms or asparagus or brussels sprouts with a gooey orange-y yolk dripping all over. Yum.

Breakfast was always consumed with a cup of black coffee (the only cup of coffee we drank each day) and usually followed up by some fruit. Our favorite way to indulge in fruit was to cut a couple things up-- some combination of banana, peach, strawberry, blueberry, cherries-- and top it with some shredded coconut, a closed handful of raw almonds if our meal was skimpy on healthy fat, and a dash of cinnamon.

Going forward, we're continuing with roasted veggies and fried or poached eggs twice a week for the whole family, and then on some of the mornings the kids eat oatmeal (the up-until-recently most-often-consumed breakfast food), Daniel and I eat something like omelets or egg cups.

Lunch was almost always salad, largely because salad fixings are so delicious this time of year and we both enjoy a good salad a lot. Also, it's very easy to assemble salad in a jar to tuck in bags for when you're out and about.

The greens varied as much as the toppings. Buttercrisp, spring mix, baby spinach, red and green leaf, romaine. Leftover fish or chicken or pork or beef from the night before or else something like salmon cakes that I prepped right then (finding canned fish that doesn't contain soy is hard and expensive, though), nuts or avocado, black or green or kalamata olives, strawberries or green apples or dates or raisins, sunflower seeds (make sure they're oven roasted with no unacceptable oils), carrots and celery and cucumber and peppers and broccoli and onions, etc. We tried some various homemade dressings: creamy avocado, mustard vinaigrette, homemade compliant mayo with extra lemon juice and lots of chives added, etc., but I quickly settled into my old ways: a splash of white balsamic vinegar, a drizzle of EVOO, lots of freshly ground pepper, and some kosher salt.

Some days, when I was just tired of salad, I cut up an entire eggplant or zucchini, made marinara, and used egg and almond flour to make sort of Whole 30 compliant eggplant or zucchini parmesan-- minus the parmesan. Ha! You'll have to take my word for it that it was delicious!

Dinner was pretty standard-looking fare, minus the bread or pasta or rice or beans that we might have normally included.

Roasted or grilled meat, veggies of all kinds, soups, etc. I would adapt food slightly for the kids. For example, I made chili one night using ground beef, sweet potatoes, peppers, onions, etc and added beans to half of it for the kids. Another night I made all the fixings for fish tacos-- the kids had tacos while Daniel and I just loaded the fish and toppings on a big bed of seasoned cabbage.

Not being able to use a lot of standard condiments (many mustards are out, as well as mayonnaise and ketchup and soy sauce, etc) took some adjustment, but I either figured out how to make a compliant version (like with mayonnaise) or went without. And then there was the time I used a tablespoon of soy sauce in the dressing anyway because I just. wanted. it. (I got my hands on coconut aminos after that, which works well as a substitute.)

Fresh herbs are always key in keeping flavors interesting, but especially on Whole 30. I generally kept the fridge stocked with rosemary, thyme, cilantro, chives, dill, and basil. And then there were the dried herbs and spices: marjoram and oregano, cumin and chili powder, smoked paprika, peppercorns for freshly ground black pepper, curry and coriander, and more. Also, I made sure to have 3 or 4 different kinds of vinegar so we could change flavors up through those, not to mention the fresh lemons and limes I always keep around for zesting and juicing. It might easily feel like eating the same thing on repeat meal after meal after meal (protein, veggies, and fat, anyone?!?!) if one didn't take advantage of such things!

A big rule with Whole 30 is no snacking. This killed me at first, as I tend to be a grazer: I generally don't eat a ton in one sitting, but I eat little bits frequently. But within a few days, I was settling into being really hungry just before eating and then being able to eat enough in one sitting to keep me full until just before the next meal. The book explains why this is important for our bodies-- our bodies need to go "searching" for the fat stores rather than simply finding energy in the immediately-available-fuel of the most recent meal. All I know is that it's a lot easier to eat things that are nutrient-dense in a meal-setting rather than when grabbing the bits and pieces of whatever's handy, so for me, it was very essential.

The couple times we broke the snacking rule was when we had to eat early dinners in order to be out well into the evenings and then came home hungry. We kept Larabars on hand for such emergencies. Our selection in the north country is limited, so I went to amazon for those. I'm not sure if it's funny or pathetic that a Larabar and cup of herbal tea felt like quite the sweet treat by the end of 27 days...

There were guidelines about servings, but they were far more general and according to your body size. "The number of eggs you can hold in your hand." "A closed fistful of almonds." "Two open handfuls of olives." Etc. I quickly found what worked for me, which included bumping up how much fat I was eating at each meal to make sure I wasn't shortchanging my still-exclusively-breastfeeding baby giant. This is not one-size-fits-all, and I appreciate that.

If I've missed anything major of interest, let me know! I'm happy to answer questions. Ultimately, though, I'd recommend reading the book if you're curious!

a lot of thoughts about Whole 30

Our stumbling into the idea of trying the Whole 30 eating plan was just that: stumbling. I have two friends who spoke highly of it, but I didn't think much of it beyond that until we began learning about how damaged Daniel's digestive system had become due to stress. The idea of trying to see his insides healed initiated a whole lot of reading and research, and the book that lays out the Whole 30 plan (It Starts With Food)-- one of the last we happened to read-- rang true with a lot of what we were learning from other sources.

With nothing to lose (there's no way eating only "whole" foods for a month is going to harm us!) and everything to gain (finding ways to get Daniel feeling better), we tried it and with great results for both of us. Although we didn't quite make it the full 30 days due to a previous commitment as camp pastor at a children's camp last week (camp food!), we made it 27 days. I'm not sure there's anything magical in the number 30 except that the goal is a nutritional reset, if you will, and in that sense we more or less got it. We didn't get to do the reintroduction of other foods the way the book instructs so we both think we'd like to do another round in order to do that at some point.

* * * * *

I cook and bake from scratch and have since I was a young girl learning the ropes in my mom's kitchen. We buy free-range meat and are part of a CSA. Our chickens are laying eggs, which is about as fresh and local as you can get! And yet I'm always learning how to better steward our bodies.

But let me say this before I get started:

I think there's always the risk whenever studying nutrition to become debilitated by everyone telling you how everything is bad for you. There have been times in the past when I've just had to put the books/articles/whatnot down and call someone I trust ("Paula, what do you do?") for their reasonable and real-life advice because what "they" say is so overwhelming.

You're not getting enough protein.
Hold the phone: all meat is horrible for you!
If those veggies aren't organic, you might as well eat cotton candy.
Is that milk pasteurized?
Who cares that it's raw, it's cow's milk and you need goat's milk!
Don't ever buy pre-packaged cereal.
OHMYWORD there are PHYTIC ACIDS in those oats!

You get the idea.

I believe that God gave us food. In variety and abundance and flavors and colors, and what a gift it all is! It's not wrong that we enjoy frequenting a favorite restaurant or stop occasionally for ice cream cones in place of a nutritious lunch or enjoy blessing one another through cooking and baking and sharing the amazing gift of food-- and special, treat foods at that!!

Yes, we absolutely need to steward our bodies. When Daniel hit a wall in terms of his physical health, we began doing all within our power to adjust our lives so that he might serve the purposes of God in his day with all the strength and energy and gusto possible! It's why we did Whole 30. It's why I do my best to continually be learning and adjusting our eating habits.

But food is a gift and a tool. Good nutrition is a means that helps me serve Jesus; it is not the goal of my life. And when I keep it in its proper place, it becomes a powerful means that isn't overwhelmed by the debilitating and crippling food arguments and debates because I am simply doing my best and trusting that I have a Heavenly Father who ordains my life.

I have no intention of becoming a food snob. I like fried dough as much as the next person! Don't even get me started on cherry cobbler with fresh whipped cream or a brownie hot fudge sundae. And sweet potato fries??? YES PLEASE.

Years ago, I spent two months in the Philippines dining on white rice and canned sardines and spam and MREs. I would do it again in a heartbeat if it was the best way I could serve the Kingdom in my eating. Here at home, as finances and supplies allow, I plan on incorporating a lot of Whole 30 ideas into our regular diet-- lots, lots, lots more veggies and more protein, minimal grains, far less sugar (including natural sugars), and Daniel will probably eat the strictest out of all of us for some time as he continues to get his body healed-- because this is how I see us best serving the Kingdom in our eating at this time.

* * * * *

Now-- if you're still with me-- for some reflections:

1. Americans don't eat enough vegetables.

Or, at least, I don't.

I always thought we did okay. A good amount of veggies, of the fresh and local and pesticide-free variety as much as possible, at almost every dinner meal-- not to mention the raw veggies we munch on most days with lunch.

Turns out, when my plate is 2/3 filled with veggies three times a day, I feel better. (Who knew?!)

I also think it's a common thought in the US that fruits and vegetables are interchangeable-- like somehow if you (or your child) aren't eating enough vegetables, you can make up nutritionally with fruit. They're just not the same.

Vegetables are not only rich in vitamins and minerals, but they're also the easiest-to-digest foods available. This was perhaps the most critical element in Daniel's increased energy and diminished aches and pains.

So eat those veggies, people!


2. Sugar is not my friend.

Although this isn't a newsflash, I realized how true it is when I ate sugar after not having any (not even natural forms like maple syrup or honey) for almost a month. It makes me sick, it makes me sluggish, it makes me tired.

This is not to say I won't ever eat sugar, but as limited as I tried to make it in the past, it's going to be far more limited. I went from nothing but a little fruit for almost 4 weeks to eating cupcakes two days in a row last weekend and let me tell you: there's nothing more motivating than seeing how much better I felt without it.


3. I need more protein than I think.

If there was one thing I saw a dramatic change in, it's that after a year of taking floradix and focusing on iron-rich foods (spinach and chickpeas and apricots, oh my!) with little to no improvement in my hemoglobin levels, within a week of Whole 30 I had stopped craving ice, which is a common symptom of iron deficiency and one I really suffered from. I haven't been tested, but I assume the vanishing cravings were due to a corresponding rise in my iron levels, and I absolutely believe it's because of my increased protein intake.

Protein is essential for absorbing iron, which I've known, but I hadn't realized how much less protein I was taking in than I really needed. I have been pregnant and/or breastfeeding for over 12 years. My body needs all the help it can get!


4. The Family Meal Table is essential.

I was really thankful that we already had routine family meals established in our home-- something both Daniel and I grew up with and then brought into our marriage and home-- because eating Whole 30 requires lots of food prep. You can't eat anything "quick" or "easy" (remember: even fruit is in moderation), but fortunately for me, meal prep and sitting down with my kids three times a day was already a pretty normal part of my day.

In that sense, Whole 30 only confirmed what I've had a strong conviction about: food is meant to be eaten in community, shared at a table, used as a pause from the day's demands and activities, an opportunity to connect relationally; and the very act of sharing food together has spiritual implications. Obviously this isn't always possible and sometimes it's eaten more on-the-go than is ideal, but even my own bad habits of making use of the time the kids are busily eating lunch to throw the next load of laundry in or zip off a few emails were curtailed this past month and I am seeing afresh how much healthier it is to prepare food for myself (rather than eating the leftover bits off their plates!), sit down, eat and converse with them, etc.

Whole 30 requires lots of cooking. It requires thought and planning. And once I've put in that effort, I want to enjoy it. So I sat. I ate slower. I ate more thoroughly and thoughtfully. I ate with laughter and conversation surrounding me.

What a gift!


5. What goes in is as important as what doesn't.

I've long wondered if there isn't a better way than the American fascination and obsession with what we shouldn't be putting in our bodies. We count calories and weigh food and go on starvation-type-diets left and right.

I really appreciated that Whole 30, while it has a long list of what you're not eating, focuses more on what you are eating. And trust me, if you make sure you're eating a healthy serving of protein and fat and loads of roasted and raw and grilled vegetables, you are full at the end (and sometimes mid-way through!) each meal. I didn't really miss the grains and sweets, honestly. I didn't feel hungry until 4-5 hours after my last meal.

* * * * *

And so, in conclusion, I'll just say:

Whole 30 was an eye-opening and helpful experiment for us, and I'd highly recommend it to others!

Next up: what we ate from day-to-day on Whole 30.

progress

Around mid-June, Daniel began an extended vacation of sorts. Some leave time that had piled up along with increasing mental and physical fatigue forced a major change in plans for our summer. My man who is a go-getter, active-just-for-fun, always reaching for the next thing, eternally optimistic, and oozing faith was just kind of... well... done.

Over the course of the next few weeks, he rested, read, prayed, dug into the Word, rested some more. And while the mental/spiritual cobwebs and clouds seemed to part way and his soul could breathe a bit again in time, it simultaneously became increasingly clear that his body was not as healthy as it should be. Whether the physical caused the mental and spiritual fatigue or the other way around, we may never know. Regardless, we found ourselves in a place of needing to address both.

After a full battery of tests, there was seemingly nothing wrong.

Cue a visit to a nutritionist and Daniel borrowing, oh, about 10 books on health and nutrition from the library. He wanted different opinions and varying schools of thoughts in hopes of finding the common threads in them all.

At the end of the day, we were pretty certain his digestive system was working pretty terribly. Stress has a way of really wrecking a body, you know.

So after a week-long trip to Dayton, Ohio for a worship leading and speaking commitment he had made, Daniel came home and began a 2-day cleanse followed by 2 days of juicing in order to give his stomach a break. The next day, we began following the Whole 30 food plan after reading (upon recommendation and loan from a good friend), It Starts With Food--a book that really resonated with us based on all the prior reading and learning. The idea with Whole 30 is that you take 30 days to fill your body with the stuff it really needs and eliminate everything that could be causing problems. After 30 days, you begin reintroducing foods in a way that allows you to "learn" your body-- which things agree with you and which things don't. Although neither Daniel or I thought that he had major sensitivities (and we still don't) to anything in particular, we knew a diet rich in nutrients and with zero of the stuff that's harder to process for 30 days certainly wouldn't hurt and might even help.

That was two weeks ago.

And Daniel is feeling so good.

His color is better. His muscles have stopped aching. The extreme fatigue has lifted. We know there is more ground to take and that nutritional deficits aren't overcome in a day or even a few weeks, but we are incredibly encouraged by the progress made.

I feel better (I'm doing it, too) and I didn't even know I didn't feel good! Ankle pain that has plagued me every morning upon waking for the past few months is gone. I've stopped craving ice by the jar-full all day every day. I have more energy.

And don't worry: we're not hungry-- quite the opposite, as our plates are loaded with healthy, nutritious vegetables and proteins and fats three times a day.

I'm so thankful.

Thankful for the time of rest. Thankful for the spiritual and mental cleansing and healing that has taken place. Thankful for wisdom and encouragement from dear friends and people who are eager to see Daniel's body whole. Thankful that some nagging less-than-stellar health I've had for years (let's be honest: I've been nursing and/or breastfeeding for over 12 years) seem to be resolving quickly and easily just as a side benefit. Thankful for a community of believers who have been beyond gracious during this season to the point of praying for us, relieving us, ministering to us, and blessing us. Thankful for a God who gives wisdom to us when we ask by faith for His help.

warning: a rambling pregnancy update

So we're over halfway through this pregnancy now. If it's flying by for you, it's flying by even faster for me. I've confessed that I can hardly believe it's July already, so this revelation probably doesn't come as any surprise.

But seriously, was it already 4 months ago now that I was finally putting 2 and 2 together to realize that the not-going-away-nausea and exhaustion wasn't actually the stomach bug my children had had?

Guess so.

20 weeks already?!
(and, by the way, I swear my belly doubled in size yesterday, but I haven't taken a photo since then.)

By way of testimony and gratitude, I have to say that a large part of this pregnancy's Flying By nature has been that I have felt so good.

Really good.

And I am thankful beyond what words can say. I have had energy, I have had little sickness, I have had few days that have been a total wash, I have honestly enjoyed almost every minute. Each pregnancy prior to this one had gotten progressively harder on me and I think I was starting to think that it was just the way things would be. These past months have been such a gift to me, not just physically, but also emotionally.

Ultimately, I think it's just been God's mercy on me. But some things that I'm sure have helped:

Summer/exercise. By the end of the winter, I'm pale and listless and cooped-up-feeling and trying to remember when I last ate a good tomato. Maybe it's just me, but I think a lot of us fall in the camp of Feeling Better In The Summer. The fresh air and longer sunlight, the ease of and natural tendency toward staying active, the outdoor projects and fun, the accessibility and availability of organic and local produce-- I know these always make a difference in my general sense of well-being. The impact is simply that much more noticeable when my body is busy growing another human being.

Also, for the first time since before becoming a mom, I have been able to get out of the house almost daily to run and/or walk, whereas it used to get squeezed in whenever Daniel's unpredictable schedule would allow. There are advantages to my kids getting older and a smidgen more independent, and wow! what a very practical difference this has made in how I'm feeling.

My runs have morphed into walk-runs (I've always tried to take an interval approach to my running, so this is just more exaggerated)-- and this past week when I was out at noon and the sun was beating mercilessly down on me and the humidity levels were 70-100%, I strictly walked-- but it has all helped so much. During my first trimester, there were a lot of days that started yucky, but I knew that if I could just hang in there until my run, I would feel better. I'm not saying this would have worked in other pregnancies (and certainly not for all expectant mamas!), but it was a clear pattern this time around.

I'm hoping that I'll be able to keep it up right until the end. January and February are the toughest months for exercising outside (thanks to ice on the roads), but I'm due on December 3rd, so I should be okay. I'm sure my pace will continue to slow down as I get bigger (!), but my goal is to stay as limber and energetic as possible.

Food. For some miraculous reason, my cravings this time around have been much more on the health-food end of the spectrum. You think I kid when I say "miraculous," but if you knew the things I always crave when I'm pregnant (french fries, greasy burgers, sour patch kids, chinese buffet, etc.), you'd realize that I mean what I say. Previously, pregnancy has been 9 long months of eating what I know to eat when it isn't at all what I want to eat. Maybe it's the perfect timing of spring's arrival and all the bountiful healthy goodness available, but it has just been so much better this time around. I can't tell you how thankful I am to not be constantly battling myself on this issue.

Of course, there have been bowls of ice cream here and there and peach cobbler almost every Tuesday (yes, this pregnancy seems to also have delivered me from my many years of abstaining from peaches after one summer as a child when my mom ordered a scarring number of bushels of peaches!), but there's been a lot of wanting veggies and hummus, big bowls of fresh fruit, fresh-from-a-local-chicken-coop eggs, and more. I'm thankful, to say the least.

 

Iron. I tried my best to get a jump on my perpetual tendency toward anemia by firstly supplementing iron for quite a few months after Elliot's birth, and then by getting right into a vitamin and iron regimen about as soon as I knew I was pregnant. Some ladies might have the luxury of waiting to see how their iron levels are, but having been 6 for 6 with really bad anemia (my hemoglobin is usually between 8 and 9 when I go into labor), I didn't even bother with the Wait And See approach.

For the past 16 weeks I have been as faithfully as possible drinking floradix with breakfast and dinner and taking vitamins with lunch. My hemoglobin at 19 weeks gestation was a little over 11, so it does seem to be helping. I need to up it and keep at it if I'm going to have healthy levels by 40 weeks, but at least so far I haven't had the major energy slumps and general fatigue/weakness that I by now associate with pregnancy.

In pregnancy news: I had my first appointment with a midwife in Watertown who seems very excited and eager to help me VBAC once again. It's a shame to me that I have to drive 70 miles to find someone who agrees that a VBAC is not only safer in my situation but that it carries almost no more risks for me than it does for someone who has never had a cesarean, but at least she was there to be found. She is in a practice with 3 OBs who also do many VBACs every year. One of these OBs in particular came highly recommended from a local midwife (who only does non-VBAC homebirths) as a doctor who is very accommodating and naturally-minded, so that's encouraging.

The midwife felt that I was measuring small so she sent me for an ultrasound, thinking that we might be able to push the due date back and have that much more flexibility in terms of delivery dates at the end. I did try to tell her that I always measure small-- even at 42 weeks and just days before popping out my 10lb daughter I only measured 37cm-- but in my experience, every practitioner I've gone to has needed to see that for themselves. Sure enough, it was my most accurate-to-dates ultrasound I've ever had, with results perfectly confirming my December 3 due date.

It was a really amazing ultrasound, though. I got to see the baby waving, swallowing, moving his jaw up and down, flipping (lengthwise), and more. The miracle of life never gets old. This is a baby, a person, a soul. What a privilege to carry and cradle him within me, safely tucked away and nurtured by my very own life. When I think about every organ being formed, every finger and toe nail growing, every detail being put together, it amazes me that I don't have to contribute more to the process.

I am the lucky one.

Lest you get confused, I use "his" and "him" in the most generic of ways. We won't, once again, find out what we're having beforehand. Of course it's always tempting to know (what's better than finding out good news? well, finding out good news sooner, of course!), but I just can't give up the moment of climax when the baby is born and we really meet him/her for the first time. The eagerness to discover just who this baby is always helps me in those moments of labor transition when I'm pretty sure I could care less about anything other than being done or dying.

So we will be doing our best to come up with at least two baby name options. This gets harder and harder each time around, I have to say. It is such a privilege and ultimately joyous task, but it always feels very serious to me, too! Our baby's naming is up to us?

Coincidentally, every time I've given birth we've only had one name we really like and we've been fortunate enough to have the baby be the appropriate gender for the name. That said, I don't like to bank on that pattern continuing, so I really am doing my best to come up with a name for both boy and girl.

So far, I've got one girl name. Daniel doesn't like it.

Wish me luck.

 

out of commission

It's a slow morning for me around here. I feel more pregnant-sick today than I have any day yet this pregnancy, which makes little sense since I'm 15 weeks along and should be "beyond" this based on my past history and even how I've been feeling the past few weeks, but reality often has little to do with predictions or shoulds.

Oddly enough, my house is humming along exactly as usual without me steering a thing. This is a relatively new and still rather strange phenomenon for me.

Gabriel made oatmeal while Bronwyn helped Claire get ready for the day and Jackson and Aubrey had their quiet times.
They all ate breakfast, older ones helping/feeding younger ones, and then those on meal duty cleaned up while the others got to their daily chores.
I managed to get some laundry rolling so that now there are rooms being dusted, bathrooms being cleaned, machines cleaning dishes and clothes, and a vacuum being run.

For years, I knew hoped this day would come. Here it is, and I'm feeling quite amazed. Sometimes the fruit that is ripening right before my eyes goes unnoticed-- probably because I've been staring at it for so many years wondering when the tree would produce that I've missed many of the subtle changes taking place-- but then there are times like this when I think, "No, it's not all perfect. Yes, the glass usually seems half empty to me. True, we had a major character/attitude setback just a day or two ago. Honestly, this moment could vanish before I finish typing this sentence. But right now, right here, is a good reminder that patience and investment and training does produce in time."

I'm sure I'm a little done in from an out-of-the-house weekend followed by an all-day trip to Syracuse yesterday for Aubrey's cardiology appointment. I haven't gone the last few times, but with more questions on my mind than Daniel felt he could accurately remember and translate to the cardiologist on his own, a graciously-granted last minute request to my mom to watch 4 of the kids resulted in Elliot and I joining Daniel and Aubrey for the familiar trek down and back.

We found out at Aubrey's appointment that this morning is actually when the cardiologists had scheduled to pow-wow about Aubrey, following her MRI a little less than a month ago. They continue to discuss and debate two options for her, but have yet to come to a unanimous decision about which route to go. Both options involve open heart surgery, but the question is which of two types of surgery to do and how many stages should they plan for. We had the opportunity to talk very frankly about both possibilities and to hear directly from Aubrey's cardiologist the different risks associated with them, with multiple stages, etc. They are many and they are real and we are praying for wisdom for them even right now and for a word from the Lord for us as we proceed.

("Don't you wish you could be a fly on the wall in their conference?" Daniel whispered to me as we walked out of the office. Without a doubt, I do!)

The doctor suggested that whenever we hear from them about their decision that we set up a time to go to Strong Memorial, where they are recommending Aubrey have surgery, to tour the facility and meet with their pediatric cardiology surgeon. In addition, they will help us get a second opinion and recommend that we plan to go either to Boston or CHOP. I feel very blessed that the top two highest ranking pediatric cardiology hospitals in the country are within easy driving distance.

We were also told that they rarely do open heart surgery during the winter months unless absolutely necessary (makes sense), and since Aubrey is not in an emergency situation, we can most likely plan on the fall or spring.

Aubrey, of course, loved her appointment-- as always. They all treat her like royalty (I truly do love their practice) and she delights in their questions and interest and pampering. It was fun to spend the day together, just the four of us, and this morning Aubrey's "thankful" at the breakfast table was for such a special day yesterday. God has fashioned her with a remarkable resilience and courage that has really made all the appointments and tests and procedures over the years a simple and even peaceful process. We have much to be thankful for in that!

But yes, today is recovery day for this mama! It is damp and dreary this morning, which seems altogether fitting for laying low and reading books and ignoring the overgrown lawn and the weeds that threaten to take over what an annoying family of rabbits has actually left untouched in the vegetable garden and the flower bed that is still half-buried by the neighbor's tree that fell over 10 days ago in a windstorm.

Despite feeling a lot sick, a little helpless, and very much not in control after a day like yesterday, I am perhaps more aware this morning of how truly I am not in the driver's seat all the time. I watch my children very capably do the things that somehow I think they absolutely need me for and am reminded that I am not indispensable. I listen to cardiologists talk of things like the risks of adjustment to major heart surgery and heart transplants and relatively untried procedures and am reminded that my feeble attempts at protecting and shielding are just that: feeble.

It's not such a bad place, really. Not when I know the trustworthiness of the One who really is in control, who goes before and stands behind and hems me in!

 

Celebrating

Today we celebrate Aubrey's birthday.

It was five years ago on a Thursday much like this one that we found out that there was something terribly wrong with our baby girl's heart and she was delivered via emergency caesarian section at 7:00pm. By 8:30pm she was being life-flighted 140 miles south to the nearest neonatal intensive care unit. Daniel was being driven down by a friend while I stayed behind recovering from surgery. Even that day we had no idea the extent of "deformities" that was Aubrey's heart, but we knew enough to be scared.

Very, very scared.

Due to pain killers, the agony of it all didn't really hit me until the next day. It was also almost 24 hours after her birth before we knew more of the extent of the problems: Daniel called to tell me that after running tests the pediatric cardiologists in Syracuse were saying that Aubrey had a very complicated heart and would need a very complicated surgery at a very young age. I was spent, I was feeling very alone and helpless being so far away from all that was taking place, and I was terrified. I remember thinking that I needed to muster up more faith, but the truth is that the only thing I could seem to have faith to pray for was that she would live long enough for me to travel down and see her one more time.

Just one more time, God, I wept.

And I remember even as I cried out that desperate prayer feeling oh so thankful for the Body of Christ, for believers who I knew had more faith for my daughter than I did in those very broken moments.

In the days that followed, there were many tears. Many highs and lows. Many middle-of-the-night terrors. Many words of encouragement, cards, gifts, and visits from friends who drove in from all over to stand with us. Many hours of feeling like I was living some strange nightmare. Many reminders of faith.

And through it all, there was God.

I will bless the Lord at all times;
His praise shall continually be in my mouth.
My soul shall make its boast in the Lord;
The humble shall hear of it and be glad.

There were good reports and there were bad reports. Anyone who has ever been through medical challenges knows that is par for the course. I tried to take it all in stride, but really I just wished there was some way I could trade places with her.

Our little baby.

She had perfect skin, golden peach fuzz hair, big eyes. We named her Aubrey Colette: "noble leader; people of victory."

Why did she have to have a broken heart? And oh! why couldn't I just trade places with her? I wondered.

And my heart broke.

Yet even as I asked questions that had no answer, there was God.

I sought the Lord, and He heard me,
And delivered me from all my fears.
They looked to Him and were radiant,
And their faces were not ashamed.
This poor man cried out, and the Lord heard him.
And saved him out of all his troubles.
The angel of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him,
And delivers them.

On October 4th, Aubrey was discharged. She hadn't had surgery and we brought her home without a single machine. Those days were heavy-hearted and wonderful ones all at once. Heavy-hearted because at that point we were still being told that we had a long road ahead of us and that surgery would almost surely be necessary within the next 6 months; wonderful because we were home, no longer torn between our 3 older children and the baby, no longer being separated from Aubrey each night, and having crossed the first hurdle of coming home for at least some time before an operation.

We prayed so much. For a miracle. For time. For growth. For health. For life.

And God was there.

Oh, taste and see that Lord is good;
Blessed is the man who trusts in Him!
Oh, fear the Lord, you His saints!
There is no want to those who fear Him.
The young lions lack and suffer hunger;
But those who seek the Lord shall not lack any good thing.

In the past five years, Aubrey has only had one hospitalization. As of 3 months ago, she is off every medication. Her heart is still jumbled, but it's working. You would never know she isn't the picture of health if you saw her today. Sure, she doesn't run as much as the other kids and sometimes when it's humid she starts to look a bit wan and blue around her lips and extremities, but that's it.

That's it!

If you had told me five years ago that we would be here today, I would have wept and wept and wept with relief and gladness. Today, just thinking of it, I cry tears of joy.

Still, I wouldn't erase one day of what we've gone through because there are great and mighty things the Lord has taught me through it all. And the greatest and mightiest thing is this:

He is here.

The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears.
And delivers them out of all their troubles.
The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart,
And saves such as have a contrite spirit.

Many are the afflictions of the righteous,
But the Lord delivers him out of them all.
He guards all his bones;
Not one of them is broken.

Happy Birthday, Aubrey-girl! You are spunky, spirited, bright, and victorious!

 

Rain, Recovery, and Repainting

It's raining.

Which may not seem like a big deal, except that it's been an exceptionally dry summer and rain has been scarce these past months. The grass, normally a vibrant green and soft to the touch here in the northernmost parts of New York, is brown and crunchy. My perennial flower garden is sad: withered leaves, stunted height, sparse and short-lived blooms. My vegetable garden's success is largely due to the sprinkler that has been set up nearby and used almost daily since mid-June.

Today I am reminded in the most tangible of ways that whether my portion be sunny skies or dreary rain, for ultimate growth and prosperity, we need both.

I need both.

**********

It's been almost 3 weeks now since our family first came down with hand, foot, mouth disease. This virus, of course, couldn't just hit everyone all at once and be over with. Oh no, we prefer to take it one at a time in order to maximize its length. I assumed that Daniel and I would make it through unscathed since this is typically an illness associated with children; however, when I became its last victim, Daniel was officially the lone survivor.

(I have no doubt that my exhaustion from caring for my little patients for over a week at that point played a huge part in me getting sick. That and the fact that Elliot was drooling and crying all over me for 3 days while he suffered from the fever, sore throat, and then rash.)

The good news is that we are now immune to this virus. As much as I don't love having my kids get sick, if it's an illness that is fairly common, I'd rather just get it over with!

**********

Since I was stuck at home due to being a walking germ-factory, taking on a house project seemed like the thing to do. Although I am not an extrovert and I need little (like... very little) human interaction in any given week, after a good stretch of being isolated, missing church repeatedly, and not going anywhere, even I start to feel lonely and stir-crazy. Getting a good project rolling helps ease the pain of solitude a bit.

Giving the kitchen a facelift in preparation for a new school year was just the ticket.

I spent many hours with paintbrush in hand. Many. There are 6 windows, 3 doors, lots of old beams, kitchen cabinets, and a vaulted ceiling in this space. While the baby napped, I painted. When the children went to bed at night, I painted. I snuck in an hour here and an hour there. And then another and another and still another.

Daniel dealt with the tricky parts of the mini makeover whenever he was home: painting the ceiling, making new light fixtures out of mason jars, rebuilding the base of the new-to-me cabinet, and more.

It's done now and we are already loving the changes. It's bright. It's simple. It's much more functional than the dining room for morning puzzles or afternoon art due to its not being in the very middle of the house. I've a feeling it will be the perfect space for our upcoming school year.

 

Misc.

:: We are in our final week of school here in the little yellow house. Gabriel and Bronwyn have finished all their books/objectives other than a couple more days of history. Jackson has 2 more pages of math (he has finished the entire Bob Jones 1st grade book in about 5 months), some Explode the Code (now that he's reading books like Danny and the Dinosaur, it seems kind of silly to have him doing page after page of words with the tch ending so we may just be done at the end of the week, regardless of how much is technically left undone), and a few pages of handwriting. The fact that we are so close to being finished with everything I'd hoped to accomplish feels like nothing less than a miracle, and I absolutely mean that. I seriously have no idea how this happened. My kids amaze me.

:: Elliot is finally napping almost every day, thanks to a swaddling blanket a friend lent me. He's also a bit less fussy now that he's got a decent sleeping routine at night, is nursing and growing better (last week he was 9lbs7oz and 22" long), and as long as I don't eat a lot of corn in one day. So although he isn't even remotely what I would call an easy-going baby, I'm finally able to snatch time here and there throughout the day to take a shower, do the laundry, cook [occasionally], weed the garden, etc. This makes life feel much more manageable.

:: The weather has been amazing. Absolutely amazing. Even yesterday's rain was welcomed as today the gardens are bursting afresh in size and color (along with the weeds, I'm afraid). The kids play outside endlessly once their chores and school are done-- and we've even done history outside most days so we can enjoy the sun during that time, too.

slip n' slide fun in the 89-degree heat on Sunday afternoon
 

:: I'm in my fourth week of trying to get out at least 3 mornings a week for a walk/run. Most days when I return after the 20-30 minutes I'm gone Elliot is crying (what can I say? the boy loves me!), so this is as much a commitment on Daniel's part as on mine. Some mornings I am so tired when I wake up that I come up with a million reasons why I shouldn't, but after I've made myself, I am so glad. It's not just the exercise that's so great-- it's also getting outdoors first thing and that brief time alone with Jesus. I love it.

:: We are incredibly close to getting into our upstairs bedroom. Daniel had set a deadline for himself of being done by the last weekend in May. Due to some emergency things that came up on several of his recent days off, the work is barely getting done in time-- but it's getting done! Elliot even cooperated the other night and let me pitch in for a couple hours of late-night painting following a full day at work/home and the boys' first baseball game of the season. As Daniel and I burned the midnight oil, we wondered how many hours we've clocked doing just that sort of thing together. It's actually become quite special in its own way.

the trim is painted and the oil is curing even as I type;
the room will be ready for furniture tomorrow evening

:: I have been making a plan of attack for best enjoying and most thoroughly taking advantage of summer's fresh produce. In early April, I signed us up for a full share from a local CSA (community supported agriculture) and we'll begin receiving weekly boxes of produce in June. Our own personal vegetable garden will mostly be filled with foods that I can preserve for the winter months, like lots and lots of tomatoes for canning, winter squash, etc. I'm hoping this is a good combination that ends up best facilitating a largely organic, vegetable-rich diet for us year-round. Time will tell.

:: With the conclusion of our 2011-2012 school year right before us, I have been trying to come up with a strategy for the summer months. As our family grows, so too does the reality that fun takes work/preparation/planning. We don't just have one or two sets of feet tracking in loose grass and dirt throughout the day. And at the end of the day, we have a good deal more than one or two children's sweaty, grass-stained clothes and bodies to deal with. (Don't even get me started on how long it takes to get ready for and then clean up from a swimming/beach outing!) I love, love, love the opportunities for fun that summer provides, but I must be ever armed with a plan for how to make the logistics of it all work-- logistics like laundry, keeping the house in some semblance of order, meal planning and preparation, and making sure everybody gets enough sleep. Any ideas/suggestions that you find helpful are gladly accepted over here!

 

small things

Last week Elliot had his 1 month check-up.

[Pause to realize that he's ONE MONTH OLD. Commence tears.]

I knew he probably wouldn't have a great weigh-in. It's been a fussy first month. He's not been an over-achiever when it comes to nursing habits-- he gets more frustrated about putting any effort in than he does about being hungry. He's not gotten beyond that scrawny newborn look.

But I won't lie: my heart sank as I watched the nurse shift the infant scale down... down... down.

Nobody said it. Probably nobody even thought it.

But I thought it: bad job, Brietta. Bad, bad job.

The doctor was altogether laid back, but when your newborn loses a pound his first month instead of gaining anything, she's not exactly jumping up and down for joy either.

"Increase your fat and calorie intake, make sure you're getting enough fluids, bring him back on Monday, and we'll go from there. It may be that he needs a supplement of some kind if he's still losing."

The next five days looked like this: nurse the baby, drink water, eat food, change the baby, nurse the baby, drink water, eat food. Oh, and did I mention that I held him for great lengths of time while he slept, too? Well, I did. Because he only sleeps for about 20 minutes on his own and if he gets too tired, that really messes with his efforts when it comes to nursing.

Fast forward to Monday and a weight gain of five ounces! The doctor's happy, I'm relieved. Like, so relieved.

Oh good, now we can get back to normal life, I think to myself.

One day later, I'd already taken on more than Elliot could handle. He ended up spending large portions of the day crying while I did things far less important than holding him. Every time he fell asleep, I'd lay him down and by late afternoon, he had barely slept since waking that morning. He was getting more and more fried and, of course, so was I.

9pm rolled around and Daniel came home to find me in tears, holding a baby who was also in tears.

"I'm so bad at this! I'm so, so, so bad at this! I push the limit and I push the baby and now he's starving but he won't eat and if he doesn't eat he won't gain weight and if he doesn't gain weight he won't develop properly and I am ruining him and I am ruining everything!"

Have I mentioned that I have the best husband? Well, I do.

He took the baby and said, "Hey, you're allowed at least one breakdown post-delivery. I'm here now so you can go for it."

And although it was many, many hours between feedings yesterday afternoon and the wee hours of the morning, Daniel got Elliot to sleep and I fell asleep after a good cry of my own and when the sun shone again, my small little boy was nursing contentedly and cooing happily and really smiling at me-- like over and over again smiling in response to my own smiles.

Today is a new day.

A day to laugh at myself, be thankful that this is a small thing in the big picture, hold the baby lots, and remind myself that the important thing is to find exactly the thing this moment calls for and do that thing.

Oh, it's also a day for having a couple college guys over who kept offering to spend some time in this, their senior week, helping Daniel around the house. They put in fence post holes and played with the kids and shared a meal with us and it was all really, really nice.
 

Daniel and Jake use the power auger to dig fence post holes
 

Ben pushes Aubrey on the swing
 

Elie pitches to Jackson
 

Elliot takes one on-his-own 20-minute nap today so I can make sour cherry cobbler with whipped cream. Yum.

Nearing the end

I'm 37 weeks pregnant now. Being so close to delivery has snuck up on me, overall, although the recently begun and [at least] once daily meltdowns-- whether over kids' attitudes or the state/condition of the house or not sleeping well or Daniel's evening schedule, etc-- are always a sure sign for me that we are officially in the end-game! I'd blame the meltdowns on the on-going renovations upstairs and how that seems to continually contribute to extra chaos in the home except that I've done this every time, regardless of whether or not we're finishing up any major projects. There's always something for these raging hormones to latch on to as a reason for tears, it seems!

At this point, Daniel very graciously hears me out, tells me how we're going to make sure that our home/family is more ordered by the time the baby arrives, and then works with me to tackle the various "stressers". He handles me like a champ-- almost like he's been here before or something. ;)

I don't have any (nor have I had any at any point since we broke through the roof last June) lofty ambitions about us having our new bedroom upstairs done by the time Paladin #6 makes his/her grand entrance, but I have for months hoped to be back to having two bathrooms by then. It may sound silly since none of my children are even teenagers, but 7 of us sharing one bathroom is busy. I can't remember the last time I took a shower without someone needing to use the bathroom in that short 5-minute span (come to think of it, if they were teenagers and not toddlers/preschoolers who need to go when they need to go, I probably could get 5 minutes of solitude!), but I'm looking forward to being able to lock the door and tell them to use the other bathroom!

Yesterday Daniel laid the floor tile, which was his first time working with tile and a wet saw. It won't be long before there's a beautiful, new, finished bathroom in my house as a very tangible expression of his love and care for me. He is amazing.

While he laid tile, the 3 big kids and I did some thorough house cleaning. Thanks to the hormones, I just couldn't take the dust bunnies or dirty freezer for one more minute, no matter how tired I feel thanks to my low iron. We've still got quite a ways to go before I'll feel like we've sufficiently restored order to all the various nooks and crannies of the house, but if we keep hitting it hard like we did yesterday and today, we should be there in no time. In fact, we might get there too soon and have to do a thorough repeat spring cleaning again before the baby arrives, knowing my history of going late!

I did have a prenatal appointment in Syracuse on Monday with a midwife at the regional perinatal center there. She was wonderful.

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. I literally had tears in my eyes at one point because I felt so at ease with her, and I've just not had that feeling with someone handling my prenatal care in a long time.

(Okay, okay... so maybe having tears in my eyes doesn't necessarily mean a whole lot these days, but still... she was so comforting in a light-hearted put-you-at-ease sort of way!)

I do have a difficult choice in front of me now: whether to go with the 2-1/2-hours-away OB practice that I trust to make wise, unselfish, conscientious choices on behalf of me and my baby or to go with the closer-to-home practice that doesn't post great numbers (1 VBAC/year or so and a higher-than-average c-section rate) and, though willing to work with me, would definitely require me to be more aggressive in order to achieve my intended VBAC. It's not an easy choice for me. Although my exhaustion this pregnancy is contributing greatly to me just feeling like I'm not up for strong-arming anyone into giving me what I want and that I'd rather drive a little further in order to have care that puts me completely at ease, I also worry a bit about how trying to deliver so far away would work.

In the meantime, the baby keeps growing and is healthy and active and content. He/she has no clue that I haven't found the car seat or washed a single stitch of baby clothing or trained Aubrey to stand nicely through Sunday morning worship or completed our targeted amount of school work or finished painting the new bedrooms or re-organized the kitchen cabinets or settled on a delivery plan or anything like that. I need to take my cues from him/her and realize that it's as simple as taking it all one day at a time!