Day 6

What a great view, huh?

This is Henry enjoying the music entertainment at the splash pad today.

Henry was disappointed when I told him that I didn't bring his bike after he saw Ally and Austin riding their bikes as we pulled into the driveway on Tuesday morning. Leave it to Sherry to give him his big brother present a little early. I tried to convince her to wait, but she told me not to argue with a pregnant woman. Sweet ride, Henry! Thanks, Sherry!

Ally, where are your knee pads?

Are those snow boots, Austin?

I've mentioned lately in a couple of blogs that Henry has been peeing in public places. Let me clarify. My parent live in a neighborhood that for the most part private. There's a good chance no one is going to see him going to the bathroom. Then when we travel to Marshall, he goes in the little toilet in the car and then I find some grassy area to dump it out. He never has had permission to just whip it out and go. However today, he decided that when I guy has to go, he's got to go.

We were at the splash park today with one of my high school friends and her sons. I was standing on the side walk visiting while frequently gazing up at Henry who was playing in the water about 8 feet away. The last time I gazed up at him, he wasn't there; however there was a mother standing looking at me. It wasn't until I looked a little closer to me that I realized Henry had decided to pee in the flower garden that separated the sidewalk from the water. I quickly grabbed him and carried him to the bathroom. The entire walk to the bathroom, Henry repeatedly told me, "But I wanted to go in the bushes." I couldn't help but laugh on the inside as I kept telling him that he can't just do that anywhere!

I've laughed about this all night to myself and shared the story with a few others. I keep thinking that most kids would just go in the water and no one would know. But not Henry. He must get out of the water, pee on the flowers, and give his mother a good story to share.

Day 7

One week and counting!

It hardly seems possible that we've made it to the last week of this pregnancy. There are so many words to use to describe the last 10+ months. One thing that I am thankful for is being able to see family more frequently. We have made countless trips to Sherry's house, frequent potty trips on the side of the road (for one passenger in particular) and found our favorite songs to sing along to on our road trips. But the one thing that has become my favorite part of the trip is when we get to the end. As we near the end of our journey, there always is two familiar faces waiting for us on the sidewalk waiting in anticipation for us (I like to think me, but mostly Henry . . .I think) to arrive. We are always greeted with smiles and hugs and informed of afternoon plans before we can even get to the house. There is so much excitement! It has been so nice to spend more time with Ally and Austin this summer, and I've enjoyed watching Henry grow close to them. We have started to talk about how disappointed we will all be when this part of our journey comes to an end and we don't see each other as often anymore. But like I've told Ally, after next week, you might get sick of us and look forward to us going home.

Baby Butter really has me confused today. Sherry and I went to our appointment, which for the first time happened to be in the morning. Previous appointments have always been in the afternoon. Baby's heartbeat this morning was 160 bpm and it's always been on average in the 130's. Now, I know I'm foolish to try to determine Baby's gender based on the heartbeat, but it is fun. I've not wavered far from boy this entire pregnancy with the exception of a couple of weeks months ago. But now, I think I am pretty set on the idea of having a girl.

I really love the idea of not knowing if my baby is a boy or a girl. I'm going to welcome a boy or a girl with loving arms. However, not knowing keeps me in suspense and I do love a good guessing game now and then.

sleeplessness and ice cream

As I was cleaning, I found these coveralls that were once Scott's. I made Henry put them on and pose next to a picture of Scott and his dad. Scott was wearing the coveralls in the picture.

Henry was outside with Scott earlier this week. He came into the house with this bucket and hollared at me in the basement, "I got a frog for you Mom! He's sick for you!" We tried to nurse this sick frog back to life, but our efforts failed us.

After watching "Lady and the Tramp" Henry insisted on having spaghetti for dinner.

I opened my eyes this morning to what appeared to be 6:45 on the clock. It was lightly raining outside and there was a coolness in the air. I realized that I had slept through the night without waking! This isn't something that happens often anymore as I've had a lot on my mind to sleep well lately.

Maybe I got a good night's rest because Henry spent his first of three nights at my parent's house. Things felt a bit strange this morning when I got out of bed. I have to admit that I missed Mr. Bossy Boots demanding his back and belly rubbed, breathing his dragon breath on me as he impatiently demands a sippy of milk and Arthur turned on the tv.

I felt this overwhelming sadness as we parted ways last night in the St. Augusta McDonald's parking lot. So much of my time is spent entertaining him that I forget how much he keeps me entertained. However, I knew that he was in good care and many worries went away when the phone rang at 10:30 last night and I heard my mom's voice telling me they safely arrived home.

The one thing I can't figure out in this situation--who is more excited to be together, Henry or my dad. I know my mom is excited to have Henry around, but we all know that my mom doesn't bait fishing hooks and drive the Kabota tracker around the yard. Henry wasn't sad one bit last night as I kissed and hugged him a gazillion times. He was going on "vacation." He's going to spend the next few days peeing in the yard, eating licorice and Dots until his poop turns a funny green dye color (I've seen it happen before!), and being entertained in ways I am not good at. I am excited for him and my dad. . .and my mom too. (I'm also excited to spend this entire day mommy, and wifey, free.)

So when I woke this morning, I was thrilled that I had gotten such a good night's sleep. I've been toss and turning way too much thinking about lots of baby stuff--mostly excitement, but partially worried as we're so close to the end. We are a week and a half from the due date and it feels like a month and a half. Sherry and baby are both doing well--except the sleep part for her too. . .and lots and lots of nightly bathroom trips. I sense this concern from Sherry that she is anxious about the arrival of a healthy baby, and then it makes me a bit worried that she's worried.

However, I continue to move my life forward believing that this baby will arrive home. I continue to nest. This house is (almost) spotless. Earlier this week, I took bottles out of a box, rewashed them and put them in the cupboard. I cleaned out the play room, which sits off of of out kitchen and set up the Pack and Play as a changing station. I somewhat hesitate as I set stuff out, but there is excitement in doing so. I move forward believeing that God wants me to prepare for baby. If He didn't, He would find a way to protect me and divert my attention to something else.

I am not sure what the next week and a half will bring. I am not counting on sleep. I have a few more things to clean. I do plan to keep up my pace of eating bowls full of ice cream and rich desserts before I go to bed. Scott reminds me that it's important that I hear my cell phone at all times. He even sleeps with his now. I still have to pack my bag for the hospital, which I plan to put together after returning home from Monday's appointment. But we're ready. We're more than ready. Henry asked me the other day when Baby Butter was coming because he's excited too. So we're all patiently waiting to bring Baby home.

Woodland "Adventure"

I took Henry to the zoo this morning. We were in this new playarea, Woodland Adventure, I think. . .It was really fun to watch him run around the treehouse and across the wooden bridges. He was especially fond of the boat, which had real fishing poles, bait bucket and motor that made noises. There were lots of other kids, mostly boys today, that also appeared to be as interested in the boat and it's accessories. Henry came to me and asked me how he could get a turn to play with the motor. I told him that he should go sit in the boat and wait for the little boy (who was playing with the motor) to be finished. Then he would need to quickly move to the motor before someone else got there. And that's exactaly what he did. He was playing with the motor for about 32 seconds when this 6 year old boy came up and grabbed the motor away from Henry. Henry just allowed the boy to boss him around and take the toy away that Henry was entitled to play with too--because he waited his turn. Now the boy said to Henry, "Now it's my turn." I wasn't sure what to do as a mother. I just sat there and watched it happen, helplessly. Well the boy played for about 16 seconds, got bored and left. Henry then played with the motor. There were lots of boys around Henry eager to play with the motor too. Henry made friends with a few and they played together. Until. . . the 6 year old returned. He did the same thing to Henry again. At this point, I was annoyed. I wanted Henry to fight back and push his way around that boat. In my mind, I was saying, "Come on Henry! Don't just sit there! Show that boy who's boss! Where is this kid's mother?!" As Henry's mother, I had to so something. I walked over to the boat and asked Henry, "Are you finished playing, Honey?" I was stunned when the boy's mother, who was sitting right next to the boat with her other child, turned and said something like, "Billy, you need to let him play with it too." At that point I would have liked to slap her because she allowed her child to deliberately take something away from other child. Not once, but twice.

Later when Henry and I were eating our lunch, Henry noticed that there was ketchup at the condiment cart. He asked if he could have some with this sausage and crackers. Hey, if it was going to make him eat, I'll get him ketchup. As I was at the cart, there was a young girl (11) and another mom and myself. Now the cart is not big and you cross paths with others, so you must wait your turn. This lady said to the young girl in a very rude tone, but using polite words, "Excuse me!" when the young girl slowed her down. It was at that point that I realized the boy in the playarea interacted with Henry the way he did because adults do it every day. If polite words are used, we think we are excused for the rudeness in our tone of voice. The little girl had every right to reach for a napkin, the adult woman should have waited her turn.

When I think back to Henry in the boat, I am glad that he didn't react to the boy. I've seen him fight back and the situation would have been a different kind of challenge. Like many parents, we want our kids to be liked by others and strong. I guess, strong doesn't necessarily mean that you have to say or do anything.

Drinks Anyone?

"Aren't you glad you aren't getting fat and you can drink?" I usually respond lightheartedly with, "I know! This is the only pregnancy that I've had where I can actually enjoy a drink."

People often joke, "You look so good for being pregnant." (This always makes me laugh and feel a bit guilty at the same time.) My favorite experience with this thought was while sitting on our friend's dock as they conversed with their parent's and a lady I didn't know. The mother started asking me questions about the pregnancy and then said, "Now, when is the baby due?" I said, "September 2." The stranger looked at my belly (I was in a swimming suit, keep in mind.) and said, "Ooooooh," in a high pitched tone. I just smiled and let her think whatever it was she was thinking.

Sherry's husband, Todd (who relocates people across country with his big moving truck) was working one day with some company buddies that he and Sherry have known for quite some time. They were small talking when Todd told them Sherry was expecting. They were shocked to learn the news. Todd continued his story by explaining that they baby isn't his, and she got pregnant while he was in Florida. He left them in shock and awe has he never told the rest of the story, until much much later.

Sherry goes to the grocery store and has a conversation with a clerk. The clerk proceeds to ask questions about Sherry's pregnancy. When Sherry explains the situation a bit more, the clerk says, "Oh, so you are the one they were talking about." Sherry smiles and nods.

Sherry's carpooling with her five-year-old daughter, Ally and Ally's friend, Ally K. Ally K. asks Ally, "What are you going to name your baby?" Ally responds, "The baby isn't ours." Ally K. processes this thought and asks Ally again, "What are you going to name your baby?" Ally explains that the baby is going to live with her aunt and uncle. There is silence the rest of the way to their destination. The next time Sherry speaks with Ally K.'s mom, Sherry learns that Ally K. wants someone to have a baby for her when she grows up so that she doesn't have to have any shots.

Have you ever seen a woman walk into a doctor's office with her sister-in-law and brother in tow? I think that's funny!

We visit friends who are expecting a baby. Henry points to the girl's belly and asks if that one is ours too.

my babies room

I usually need a list to organize my lists. If it's written down, I am most likely not to lose sleep over something. I even keep paper and pen close by my bedside to start lists in the middle of the night. But just because I have lists doesn't mean I do well at getting the things on my list done.

I took a two credit class at the beginning of June. The paperwork is due August 15 and I said I was going to have it all wrapped up within two weeks from the last class session. (Sigh.) Then I pushed it to the end of July when I realized there was no more of June left. (Sigh.) I finally finished everything on Sunday afternoon instead of taking my usual nap--did I tell you my body thinks it pregnant too?. . .that's a whole new blog entry! I felt pretty good to finally be done. I can't say I was proud of myself for working nearly to the deadline. I find myself working well under time contraints.

I knew that once I finished, I could give myself permission to work on things that are more important in my life, making room for baby. Henry moved to into a big boy bedroom in the room beside the nursery quite a few months ago. As the months have passed, I have found that I kept shoving things into that room that best belonged somewhere else. I woke up this morning feeling that I was ready to tackle the room. I started by putting the clothes that were too small for Henry into storage bins according to size. I got rid of bags and purses that were sitting on the floor next to my Goodwill pile. Things seemed to be moving along quite well for 9am, I was keeping good time even with a big helper. Henry started moving things back into the room that he thought "Baby Butter" (he called the baby that once, we laughed, it stuck) would like.

After our playdate with the neighbor, I found myself back in the room while Henry was napping. I didn't take a nap today, I was on a mission. (See--body thinks it's pregnant--nesting.) Now I needed to tackle the closet. There wasn't too much in the closet. The stuff in there was all cluttered together because when Henry was done with something, I threw it in the closet. Onesies of various sizes, the crib bumper, mobile, birthday cards, space heaters and . . .diapers. When I saw the small size newborn diapers, my emotions got the best of me. I had three small packages of newborn diapers that we received for Christmas, a few months before Hudson was due, tucked away in the back of the closet. One of the packages was opened because we took one small diaper out for him to wear when they dressed him at the funeral home. I really became angry, just momentarily, because I wasn't sure whose room this really was anymore. I felt slightly cheated because I never got to prepare anything for him. The only thing that was ever "his" were these diapers. I set the diapers aside and when I got back to them later, I had to be tough. I had to open the small rip a bit more and put the diapers in the basket where they now belong. That basket will later sit on our steps and be used for Baby Butter.

So the last thing I have to do tonight is fold the tiny onesies, socks and new wash cloths that are in the dryer. I look forward to folding them and placing them in the drawer tonight before I go to bed. Even though I know the room and the things in it used to belong to Henry and will soon become Baby Butter's, part of Hudson will always remain.

A New Dress

How many times do we allow our minds to daydream and wonder what we will wear for a special occassion? Scott and I are going to a benefit in late September. The benefit is a live and silent auction that raises money for Faith's Lodge, (www.faithslodge.org) a retreat center for families who have lost children or have children with serious illnesses. The theme again this year is glam rock. So, I'm not exactly the covergirl for glam rock, but I do enjoy the opportunity to dress up and have an adult night out. While I was out shopping yesterday, I found a really nice dress that fits perfectly for "Hope Rocks." Now, I just need to find the right shoes and jewlery and I'm all set for a night out.

Not only have I thought that I needed to find something to wear for "Hope Rocks", but I am reminded by Scott that I should think about putting a bag together for our trip to Marshall when the baby is born. But. . .I'm not sure what to pack. Doesn't Mom just get handed a scratchy gown and socks with grippers as she walks into the hospital? Not. . .this. . .time. . . Sweats? Jeans? Maybe I won't have time to choose my outfit. I know it doesn't really matter what I wear, but I do have to pack a bag. It would be nice to know what to pack to wear for such a special occassion.

The Kid Table

Remember when you were younger and having dinner meant that you had to sit at the kids' table? The kids' table meant that you were not sophisticated enough to use the fine china or hold adult conversation. I always looked forward to the day when I would graduate to the adult table. Today, I realized that sitting at the adult table is not all that fun. I was fortunate enough to have the pleasure of sitting at the kids' table for a picnic lunch with my Henry, nephew and three nieces. I didn't partake in conversation, just sat there observing the little ones eat cold meat sandwiches, cheese balls, sugary Kool-Aid. . .oh and the 1/2 banana on each plate that was there just for good measure on the part of us moms, they didn't get eaten. As they ate, they discussed things that were really important--who got the most cheese balls, who had drank the most Kool-Aid, and what they wanted to do when the got to the swimming pool after lunch. They got to talk with their mouths full and it didn't matter if they spilled lunch on their shirts. Napkins were not required and burping was allowed.

I liked sitting with them because it was fun, and it took me back to my childhood days when my cousins and I would crowd at the kids' table with our hot turkey dinners and talk about worry-free things like sledding, movies and boys. My favorite moment at the kids' table was when my sister stood up and swung her braided ponytail around in a circle like a helicopter. It was funny, pointless and very random--just like the conversations I heard today. As I watched them interact, I couldn't help but smile and hope to have more fun, pointless and random moments in my life like I did today.

Purpose and Reason

Have you ever experienced a time when people keep telling you the same thing over and over? Finally, your ears and brain make a connection and something really great results from it? I started this blog last week (desired to create one for months now thanks to a good friend), and I couldn't make an entry until I had the perfect title. After months of being told (twice today) by strangers, family and friends that my sister-in-law is giving us a wonderful gift, I couldn't help but realize that my blog could be titled nothing else but "Greatest Gift" where I am able to focus on my children, family and life's greatest gifts while sharing with the strangers, family and friends that remind me that I am so very lucky.

After a long conversation with the hygenist and receptionist in the dental office this evening, I left in tears realizing that I am only days away from experiencing the birth of my third child. This birth, however, will be nothing like the birth of my first two sons. Henry was born more perfect that I could have ever imagined. Just moments after his birth in the operating room, I knew I had met the love of my life as the nurse put his warm cheek against mine to soothe his crying. He was a planned c-section after learning that he was feet down and head up, which explains a lot about the person he is--always trying to defy the way things are suppose to be. Honestly, he has always been a good little boy, providing us with love, laughter and good "medicine". I like to refer to Henry as good medicine because he provided my husband, Scott and I with something that we needed at a very sad point in our lives.

When Henry was eight months old, Scott and I learned that we were expecing our second child. Although we were trilled, we never really lived the pregnancy. We were so busy taking care of Henry that the thought of having a second child was at some points far from our minds. I didn't buy anything for my baby. I didn't keep up with my journaling very well. I didn't even plan much around the house for baby. I look at it all now as God's way of protecting me from what I was about to experience--and I am greatful. We lived each day for what it was and would worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

And then tomorrow came. I awoke feeling what I thought was labor. Throughout Hudson's pregnancy, I always felt sensitivity on my incision line from Henry's c-section. After a long warm bath, the pain didn't go away and I began to bleed. After a mad rush to the hospital, the doctors and nurses realized that my sweet Hudson's heartbeat was lowering by the second and an emergency c-section was performed. During the surgery, they discovered that my uterus had ruptured and Hudson had been without oxygen for an unknown period of time. They were able to revive him, and he sustained life for sixteen days until we removed him from life support.

It was such a gift that we were able to be with him for the 16 days that he did live. In those 16 days I got to hold him, smell him, touch his warm body, sing to him and read him books. My family got to meet him and his story was share with many. Most importantly, he helped me become the person I am today. He's enriched my faith and helped me prioritize what's fundamentally important.

Today, I cherish more than ever my sister-in-law, Sherry whom is about to give birth to our third child. Sherry so graciously asked if she could be our gestational carrier when we shared that I wouldn't carry another child. She's modest about her gift and doesn't like one bit of attention drawn to her. (She'll kill me when she finds out I'm writing about her today and days to come.) When I look at her, I feel greatful for what she's doing for me and my family. I feel helpless that I can't do more for her. I am excited to experience the end of this pregnancy with her. She is my greatest gift.

As I share my story with people, they often tell me that they have only seen things like this on tv, and that they've never met anyone who has actually experience it first-hand. For a long time, I was scared to share my story. Acknowledging that I created another life, meant that I had another life to lose. It was about a month ago that I let my fear go and turned it over to God. So slowly I am collecting baby things, buying baby outfits here and there, and making baby visible in my house.