20 Weeks: Thank You Notes to People I Don't Know

I've been writing lots of thank you notes lately. It is always such a sweet collection of moments, sitting at the table reflecting and feeling thankful. I love when the stack of notecards I keep in our desk starts to dwindle. It means I've had lots of opportunities to be thankful.

That said, there are some people I don't know who I'd like to thank, too. People who have made this pregnancy easier, better, or happier. Today's post is dedicated to them. Let's begin.

To the inventors of the remote control and the creators of Netflix: Endless entertainment, zero moving my pregnant belly. Thank you.

All online television and Pinterest: Same sentiments. You guys rock.

To the people who brought leggings back in style for people over 8 years old: You were right; I was wrong. Thank you.

To Costco: You know I couldn't do this without you. Thank you.

To the person who decided to add the "crushed ice" option to refrigerator ice dispensers: This is the second pregnancy when tiny bits of ice have felt like the greatest treasure, treat, and delicacy. What would I do without you? (Cry more.) Thank you.

To the farmers who grew the sunflowers I bought from Harris Teeter: $4? Really? How did you guys know how badly I needed a little sunshine-flower pick-me-up last week? You do amazing work. Also, I love knowing that there are people out there whose jobs are to grow sunflowers. Totally makes life in general happier to have that thought.

To whoever figured out that Unisom helps (a little) with morning sickness, and to the scientists behind Lexapro: Wow. You guys. No words. But, super, super strong work. Thank you.

To everybody over at the production of Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, and Honeywell security systems: Thank you for making my morning nap possible.

To LEGO: Come on, you didn't think I'd forget you, did you? Thank you, thank you, thank you, for saving my children from their pregnant mother.

And, finally...

To the 1980's: Thank you for the baby name book we have used to select names for all of our kids, and for being the initial timeframe in which leggings came to be. Again--I was wrong, and I'm totally willing to own it. Though I do think the upgrade to jersey from spandex was a win.

xo,
love,
Jamie

19 Weeks: Currently

Eating more regular foods. I can pretty much stomach anything now, and I'm finding great pleasure in eating again. Which is fab, because I've always really loved eating.

Typically Life cereal for breakfast, a wrap/quesadilla/salad for lunch, and whatever the family is having for dinner. Snacks are mostly fruit snacks, still. Hopefully we'll get more into veggies and fruits again at some point. Dessert is a must.

Drinking tons and tons of water, preferably with ice.

(Also, totally in to eating ice again, as with my Juliette pregnancy. Steve and I went to The Loop on a date when his parents were in town, and man--they have the perfect ice!)

Sleeping about 12-13 hours a day. Have to be in bed by around 10:30 or I start getting really sick. When Steve is home to take Grace to school, he lets me sleep in until 8:30. That makes a huge difference in my energy and nausea levels for the day.

Add to that a 2-3 hour nap in the afternoon, and I'm sleeping about half of every day.

And it feels. so. good.

Watching the Harry Potter series with Steve. We suffered through the first two movies (necessary evils) and celebrated when we got to the third, which is when the cinematography, acting, and screenplays get really good. We get through about half a movie each night before I have to go to sleep. :)

Reading Dust (the third book in the Wool/Silo series by Hugh Howey) which I started a few years back but didn't finish. After all that Anne of Green Gables, I suddenly craved something sci-fi/dystopian. Enjoying it so far. Steve and I read for a few minutes after crawling into bed post-Harry-Potter. :)

Listening to the Lively Show podcast when I (occasionally convince myself to) fold clothes.

Waiting for baby's kicks to be strong enough for Steve to feel them regularly. It's an awesome thing to share with him. He did feel her once, but we haven't been able to replicate it yet.

Impressed by baby's growth: she's the size of a mango this week.

Worrying about my sweet grandpa, who's on hospice. That the nausea won't stop til baby comes. About finding a new OB practice with docs I will love in TX. That labor and delivery will be scarier at a new hospital with new doctors. How long it will take us to get into a house when we move. About baby staying healthy and my SCH continuing to heal.

Trusting that God has a plan, and it's all going to work out somehow.

Feeling all the feels. Overwhelmed. Tired. Excited. Out of breath! More content. More human. Still sick. And still struggling to be okay with the fact that I can only do a few things per day and need lots of rest in between.

Enjoying sitting with my littles on the couch (a lot) watching PBS Kids shows or (even better!) HGTV. (Juliette can identify Fixer Upper, Property Brothers, and House Hunters. Charlie wants to live in a tiny-house. Gracie wants to scrape all the popcorn ceilings off all the fixer uppers.) Watching them play and interact. Listening to Juliette talk to me. Snuggling, talking, and laughing with my Steven. Having some clothes that fit. Naps. Looking at house options in San Antonio.

Window shopping lots of baby things and maternity clothes.

Dreaming the weirdest pregnancy dreams. Most recent: Jimmy Fallon as lead singer of Blink 182.

Wearing stretchy-top pants and shirred elastic tees daytime. Oversized tees and yoga leggings at nighttime. (Nighttime wear > Daytime wear.)

Loving my bullet journal. So me. Best discovery of 2016 so far.

Anticipating our (two) moves--apartment, then Texas. Watching the Olympics this summer. My next meal/nap. A visit to Suzi's. Lots of summer swimming. Picking a name for this sweet kicky baby girl. Holding her in my arms for the first time, and seeing her Daddy fall in love with another of our babies. <3

18 Weeks: Baby Steps Forward (pun intended.)

This pregnancy is kind of a blur. Not a blur of speed (too bad haha) but just a blur of... stuff. Life whirling around me like a hurricane while I'm just trying to get a load of laundry in and incubate this teeny babe. :) So once I'm past a week (like the 18 week mark, which was two weeks ago) I can't really remember what happened in it.

I do know, however, that my week 18 pictures were taken by our Miss Gracie.

She was a very adorable and enthusiastic photographer. :)

I'm fully off my Zofran now (the meds for nausea/vomiting), but I've discovered that I still feel pretty darn sick if I don't take my Unisom at night. Sad. This is definitely the longest I've been sick in a pregnancy, and I'm beginning to feel resigned to the fact that I may never completely get over it. I'm not throwing up regularly anymore, though, so yay for that. Ice water and spearmint gum are my constant companions, and both seem to help. And, best of all, our church family has leapt at the opportunity to take care of us, and we've already had several families bring us meals over the past two weeks. It is such a weight off my shoulders, and gives me permission to use my energy to take care of the house and my relationship with my kiddos a little more. Both things feel lovely.

This month, as I've been able to handle more awake and off-the-couch time, as well as things like brushing my teeth (without gagging! As long as I do it at the right times of day.) I've been slowly teaching myself how to be an adult again. Last year I had a great, efficient routine that kept me productive and on my toes, but obviously all that went out the window when I started losing all my meals and stuff.

I have to admit, though--the reset has been helpful. By taking everything off my to-do list, I was able to see just how many things were distracting me from my kids. I've always felt that my relationships with them are my top priority, but I wasn't really reflecting that in my day-to-day life. So the knocked-down part of this pregnancy has been eye-opening that way. Going forward with this chance to completely start over, I'm going to really try to keep my focus first on the things of God. It's good to start fresh, sometimes.

And I am really, really starting fresh. Here's the April Tracker from my bullet journal:

See the goals on there? Say prayers. Brush teeth. Take your vitamins. Spend a little time with a kiddo. Occasionally bathe the littles or wash my hair. :) I'm starting at little-kid level with myself, and being okay that things still look a little spotty. Next month I'm adding: Make bed. Read scriptures. Do a load of laundry.

Baby steps.

The Fourth Doctor Visit, Or: IT'S A GIIIIIIIIIRL!!!

Well I was wrong. Again.

I think I have consistently been wrong now about the gender every single one of our kids!

But we are so, so, SO excited to welcome a third little girl into our home!

Steve's parents were in town for a whole week last week, and luck shone down on us because I'd made our gender scan appointment for the last day they were in town. That meant they got to find out at the same time as our kiddos, and that was really fun!

The two older kids had both guessed we were having a boy, and while Charlie dearly loves his sisters, we were a little concerned that he might feel let down not to be getting a brother. Steve came up with the brilliant idea of upping the ante from "just" cupcakes to a balloons-in-a-box announcement for the kids, so on the way home from our scan we picked up some Dewey's cupcakes with pink sprinkles and a bouquet of pink balloons to stuff in a moving box. The kiddos were excited and nervous to open it!



*PHEW!*

Totally good reception from everyone, including Charlie (who exclaimed, "It's beautiful!" as the balloons came out of the box), and everyone was thrilled to carry balloons around for the next hour, too. :)

And eat celebratory cupcakes...

The doctor visit itself was super fun for Steve and I. We spent the first ten minutes with the sonographer, looking over our baby's cute profile, watching it move, and seeing healthy beautiful kidneys and heart chambers and all kinds of miraculous things that have been growing while I've been nauseous and napping. It really is totally jaw-dropping to see how a perfect little person can form without me doing much more than resting up and taking a multi-vitamin.

When it came time to find out if it was a boy or a girl, however, baby had other ideas. She stayed firmly tucked in a ball even when we poked and prodded her, and wouldn't move to let the ultrasound tech find out her gender. We actually had to leave, have a quick (scheduled) visit with my doctor (peed in a cup and asked a couple questions), and then come back to try again.

The second time was a charm, and the babes cooperated so we didn't have to wait another 4 weeks to find out! After being split on our guesses (I said boy, Steve said girl) we were still both pretty surprised this little bun was a girl!

At home with Steve's mom and dad we pored over her ultrasound pictures and popped in the DVD so Mimi (that's Steve's mama's chosen grandma name) could watch a replay of the ultrasound.

Here are a few of my favorite pictures. :) First, her profile with her little head tucked to her chest.

Then there's her little foot (right above the word "FOOT"). Seriously. Baby feet are the cutest.

And another profile shot with a clear view of her adorable nose. :)

Also--the final moment that I knew Charlie was cool with being surrounded by sisters came yesterday. I told Juliette the baby in my tummy was a baby sister.

Charlie responded, "I like baby sisters. They're more cuter." <3

...

Stats (as of doctor appt):
Weeks pregnant: 18 weeks, 3 days
Baby's fruit/food size: Soda can (9 ounces, 6.5 inches)
Net weight gain: 6 lbs
Doctor visits: 3
Cups peed in: 4
Blood draws: 3
Ultrasounds: 5

17 Weeks, Part 2: Lighting, Rock Bottom, and the Upswing

So at 17 weeks and one day, I hit rock bottom.

I'd been feeling a bit better for the previous few weeks, and even started slowly weaning myself off my generic-Zofran nausea medication, and then all of a sudden, I was SICK again. Like, so sick that after I wrote that post where I put myself to bed at 6 pm, I ended up not making it to the bathroom when a wave of nausea hit, and I threw up IN MY HAND.

It turned out to be a case of lightning striking twice. More specifically? I got the stomach flu on the downswing of months of morning sickness, and I didn't identify it. AGAIN. Just like in my Juliette pregnancy.

So far I've thought of no other natural phase of life in which I could have a massively awful stomach flu and not even know it. Pregnancy. Am I glowing yet?

That night, I felt prompted to post on Facebook requesting prayers. Because this is not something I would regularly do, it felt a little awkward, but the feeling persisted so I did it. The outpouring of love I felt afterward was sweet and humbling and it cracked my heart open so that all the feelings of worry, despair and uselessness that I'd locked up inside it came pouring out of me. I sat on the bathroom floor and cried hard, long, desperate sobs. I prayed for help, begged for help, demanded help, and when I finally--after months of looking--felt my Heavenly Father answer with comfort, I couldn't stop begging Him not to leave me.

The first months of this pregnancy have been one of the hardest, darkest, and loneliest times of my life. In addition to the life-changing sickness that hits me (and I feel almost positive that this pregnancy has been the very very worst in that respect), I felt like I lost a thousand things about myself that I loved, and was left with only the very basic core things: My faith, which I will admit, felt worn thinner than I'd like it to be. My love for my family and dear ones. And the capacity (however forced) to wait until things got better.

There were days when I was bleeding so much we were convinced we had lost the baby. Weeks when consistent (though less) bleeding made it hard for us to connect with and feel attached to the idea of a real new baby coming to our family in September. There are weeks I can't really (and don't really want to) remember: a blur of sleeping, throwing up, and trying to be human enough to interact with my 3 other "babies." Weeks when I couldn't bear to eat, read, write, draw, talk on the phone or leave the house (edit: leave the couch).

And the hardest part sometimes was knowing that I'd chosen it. I was fully aware of how hard it could be, how low I could get. But I felt like I was meant to carry this baby, like our family needed it, and so even though I dreaded the idea of being pregnant again, going through this challenge that is so hard I feel like it diminishes the light in my soul--I chose it.

I guess its good to hit rock bottom sometimes. I mean, I hate it. But sometimes awful stuff is a much swifter and more powerful teacher than slow-and-steady good stuff. And after I broke down and cried in the dark in the bathroom that night, and prayed really sincerely hard, I finally felt my answers start trickling in--the same answer from lots of different voices, all speaking the words God needed me to get into my head and my heart. Here is an excerpt from a message I got almost immediately from a friend I look up to, love, and admire very much:

I want to encourage you to allow yourself to be loved on, and served. Because you have a servants heart Jamie, you forget that there is service because God's people have needs. Remember that need isn't weakness, but an opportunity to witness the work of Gods people first hand.

Please let me ease your burden, and lift your heart. I love to serve, and you would be doing me a favor.

She was so right.

I'd been so focused on my loss of ability to serve as I usually do, that I forgot that it can be a gift and an honor to serve others. And that by refusing to ask for help (which my family and I both needed so greatly!) I was not only perpetuating my own difficulty, I was also denying people who love my the chance to give service. Which I LOVE doing. Why would I refuse to let people do something I love doing???

Ego is part of it. It's hard for me to need. I'm used to fulfilling needs. It's something I deeply love and value, a gift my Heavenly Father has given me that gives me a huge sense of purpose and value. So it's hard for me to not only be unable to give, but also to ask others to give. To me. What will people think, right?

But it's become clear to me that that is my task for now. My big challenge. I have to ask for, and accept help.

Several friends reached out immediately, and I gratefully accepted their offer to feed my little family (that's been the hardest thing lately since I feel pretty okay until around five, when I get sort of queasy again). How tender and loving everyone has been!

I should have asked a long time ago, but honestly--I thought I was. I thought I was asking enough, having someone babysit while I went to an appointment, or occasionally drive a kid to school when I was having a rough morning. But now I can see that I should have asked for more help, and sooner. God wasn't restricting the blessings and help I could be offered--I was doing that by refusing to ask, convincing myself that I couldn't ask for more than the limit I'd given myself.

I'm still learning. Thanks for your prayers; I've felt them keenly and they've buoyed me up more than I can tell you.

xo,
Jamie

17 Weeks: Down

It is 6pm, and I've put myself to bed.

Steve is working. My babies are downstairs cheerfully eating cereal for dinner (again). I didn't even pour it for them, just asked my Gracie girl to do it.

As I was going upstairs I told her, "I really wish I could do more for you guys right now."

And she said, "It's okay, Mom. I've already been through this twice with Charlie and Juliette. It's like a life cycle for me." :) (She's been learning about life cycles in school.)

They've been promised a few episodes of Clone Wars in Charlie's bedroom in lieu of family movie night, and they are pumped about it. I'm thankful that they are so flexible, and for the joy they take in little treats, and for the fact that nobody whined that they were eating Cheerios for the second time today. And for the fact that I'm in bed.

But the truth is, I am a wreck. It's always hard to know how much to write here, partly because its public domain, but mostly because this is a record my baby will have of his/her life in utero. At the end of each pregnancy I've compiled all our blog posts into books for each of the kids, and this one will go that way, too.

But I guess sharing the hard stuff will show this baby how loved it is. How wanted. Because I was well aware, no hazy pre-pregnancy memory loss or rosy ideas about what this would be like. I knew it was going to be terrible. In fact, I spent months discussing with Steve, praying, and talking to my depression counselor about this decision before we even attempted to get pregnant. I spent months agonizing and dreading going through this again. Not because of the baby--I LOVE my babies. Even their newborn phases. I adore these little people.

But pregnancy, for me, is like an endless forty weeks of physical and emotional battles. It's like I'm running one of Steve's Tough Mudder races, for, like, ever. Only for me, its not fun. It's hard and gross and painful and I'm exhausted, and there's always more. More to do, more to wade through, more obstacles I can't overcome. Everything I know and value about myself is shut down, lost, or dampened.

And I'm not sure if its really the worst its ever been this time around. Its hard to compare from year apart, even with written records of what it was like each pregnancy before. But it feels the worst.

The nausea I thought was letting up last week has body-slammed its way back into my life this week. Last night I brushed my teeth and accidentally caught a spot a little too far back on my tongue. I lost all the food I'd eaten in the past 6 hours and went to bed feeling defeated, exhausted, and hungry (but afraid to put anything else in my body).

I'm exhausted, and my heart feels broken. I pray but I don't feel comfort. Maybe I'm asking Heavenly Father the wrong questions? If that's it, its only because I haven't found the right ones yet.