Week 27: Dr. Appt + What People are Saying

Three months to go, and my baby bump is NO JOKE. In the last few weeks, the commentary and expectation from strangers and casual acquaintances has increased significantly.

At church:

"You're any day now, aren't you?!"

and

"Are you carrying twins???"

At the gym:

"How much longer do you have?"

and

"Girl, you're about to pop!!!"

At the pool, with the other three kiddos in tow:

"Is this your last?"

I know some (most?) pregnant women get offended by these types of comments, but I guess I can see where everyone is coming from. I look about the same as a girl from our ward did the day before she delivered. Maybe bigger. And also, I'm kind of a big believer in the idea that we choose to be offended. None of these people was meaning to be rude. So I save my irritation/anger for stuff that really ticks me off, like inconsiderate drivers and Time Warner Cable.

Another doctor appointment has come and gone--the second-to-last one before we move. When my doctor asked me how I was I told her how worried I was about all the change and transition coming up in the next month. She took it all to heart and kept hugging me throughout the appointment.

It was my glucola visit! It was just as terrible and nauseating as I remembered, though I did request the orange this time, which always helps. Orange is better than fruit punch. That day they stuck me thrice on the left arm: once on this way over-bandaged finger for an iron test (below), once in the crook of my elbow where they extracted three vials of blood to check for gestational diabetes, and a third time to give me a vaccination.

The nasty power-punch of sugar threw me off all day and I felt queasier than usual. But the phlebotomist thought it was funny when I promised to "try not to wuss out on [her]" while she drew my blood, so that helped. :)

The rest of the week was a blur! We had a pre-con phone conference with our contractor in TX (are we really building a house?!), lots of kiddo swimming lessons, Steve's last night at the DEAC volunteer clinic, Gracie's last day of school, and a trip to Richmond for Steve's 3rd Tough Mudder race. Super busy, super fun, and a great way to usher in the summertime.

Stats (as of doctor appt):
Weeks pregnant: 26 weeks, 3 days
Baby's fruit/food size: Head of Lettuce
Net weight gain: 20 lbs
Doctor visits: 6
Cups peed in: 6
Blood draws: 5
Ultrasounds: 6

Weeks 25 + 26: Lightning

Gracie-loo took my 26 week photo for me. I almost photoshopped out the sock in the doorway, but I decided against it. Socks on the floor are pretty representative of our household at this stage of life. NOT because I am pregnant, but because that's just where everyone who's not me puts socks. Its hard to write that without coming off as a little mom-bitter haha. Oh well. Suffice it to say: the sock stays.

These last two weeks have been heavy and hard. Steve's worked 11 shifts in a row with only one day off. He's so tired he keeps falling asleep on the couch (which is not his jam) at random intervals. Its wearing on him to say the least. Tonight is his last shift in this run, and then things will settle down a bit as far as work goes.

And for me, this puts my focus squarely on trying to keep it together enough that the kids and Steve are fed and feeling loved. It sounds so easy, but it feels so hard. Every load of laundry, every half hour spent planning meals, every evening cooking and making sure my littles get scriptures, prayers, vitamins and medicines before bed: it all takes an incredible force of will. Because I am tired. And my heart is heavy. And I miss my sweetheart.

One night this week Juliette started bawling at the kitchen table and then projectile vomited right onto her dinner plate, still untouched and full of food. Gracie dove under the table like she was doing an earthquake drill. Charlie just wanted to talk about throw-up. I didn't panic or even feel anything, really. I just cleaned up my girl and put her to bed, cleaned up the table and ate with the big kids. I'm feeling again that hard and weighty part of motherhood: that I have to just do it, because there's no one else there to do it for me.

Last night when I lay in bed alone trying to fall asleep, I felt this big blockage in my heart: this massive black boulder of CAN'T. I can't do this. I can't do 14 more weeks, progressively harder as I get heavier and more tired, still feeling sort of sick even with gum in my mouth. I can't take care of my babies alone like this while Steve starts work at a new place (which is going to be hard for him because new stuff just feels SO BIG, you know?) in a city where I know virtually no one. How can I make new friends when I can barely take care of myself and my family? How will I find someone to look after my kids when I go into labor? How can I take on the impossibly terrifying challenge of delivering--which, since Charlie's scary birth, has stricken my vulnerable heart--in a hospital I've never seen, with doctors who have only known me for a few weeks? I can't do those things, when even the logistics of getting the kids to the pool/library/grocery store in my current state overwhelm my brain. Everything feels dark and huge and impossible.

I lay there in our room and tried to pray about all this. Rain was pouring down outside and the blinds kept lighting up with lightning flashes, again and again. I didn't know where to start. I asked Him to carry me. I don't know how He will. The big black boulder hasn't gone away. I know He will get me through, one day at a time.

But I wish it felt easier. I wish it felt more purposeful. I wish there was someone beside me all the time, whispering in my ear, "You're okay. You'll stay okay. This is all on purpose, and it is all good." Maybe there is, but so far, I can't hear it.

Week 24: Jetsetting

This is just a nice selfie of me. Where I don't look tired. Because I'm not. Because this picture was taken ON VACAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Earlier this month the babes and I cashed in on my (fantastic) Christmas gift from Steve: a trip to see my med-school bestie! I hopped on a plane with a backpack loaded down with books and snacks (ALL FOR ME!) and many hours later I was hugging my Suzi in the PHX airport. And the fun started right there. We didn't even go home--we went straight to In'n'Out for dinner, followed by splitting a delish Biscoff + strawberry topped dessert at Waffle Love. (If you live near one, go get one in my name. I'll take the calories for you. I'll just hide them in here:)

For five days we shopped! (Old Navy! H&M! Charming Charlie! Anywhere we wanted at the Scottsdale Mall! And Nordstroms' Last Chance, where I got these two pairs of flats that retail for about $100/pair for $35!)

We ate! (Kneaders! In'n'Out! Waffle Love! Paradise Bakery! Sauce! The Soda Shop! Cafe Rio!) 

We met up with friends (hi Amanda!), got pedicures, and saw not one but TWO movies! (And they were both good!)

We watched good TV (all of season 1 of Grantchester, and a new version of And Then There Were None that had us really jumpy).

I took lots of naps and ate lots of ice.

I called/texted/sent selfies to Steve so he knew the baby bump and I were okay.

And when I got to the airport at home (after promising to try to make this a repeat occasion--next year, maybe?!) all three of my babies wrapped their cute arms around me at once and I just felt filled up with gratitude to have these loves of my life. (Who all, miraculously, felt worth the effort of pregnancy when I help them at birth--and that reminded me that this one will, too.)

Best girl trip ever. <3

Week 23: Second Trimester Living

My second trimester lifestyle--while, okay, still a lot harder than non-pregnant life--is a million, billion times better than the first. Honestly, I am still in denial about the first trimester having happened. I cannot think about it. I cannot write about it. I do not want to look at pictures from it. It. Was. Terrible.

Because I'm teeny-tiny, I am already feeling the physical weight take its toll on me as I carry this cute girl around. So the second trimester is all about minimizing everything, bumping into things with my belly, and striving for as much 1) movement and 2) ease of life as possible. THANKFULLY THANKFULLY the nausea is almost nil now, though my mouth still tastes bad (normal pregnancy thing per the doc--darn) so I go through a lot of chewing gum. Like a Costco pack a month. My bod is definitely feeling heavier, my belly has more than popped out, and someone at church yesterday asked me when I was due--clearly expecting it to be sooner than September. #still17weeksleft

Now that I've hashtagged that I'm thinking about how dorky/ridiculous/old fashioned  hashtagging will probably be by the time this baby girl reads the story of my pregnancy with her in book form. I guess its just one of those things she can be thankful she missed, like how I'm glad I didn't have to do 80's hair.

This evening I'm sitting on my blue chair in our (apartment master) bedroom again, shouting to Charlie (because it is after bedtime and I am off duty as far as, you know, parenting while standing up/moving/walking) to stop freaking out about how the clock in his room is one minute different than the clock in Gracie's room. Steve's gone out to grab us Chipotle (second trimester life: we've both thrown our hands up and given up on cooking dinner every night). He'll be back soon and we'll eat burritos and watch Netflix and that will be happy.

(And then I took a hiatus from writing this post for like a week and a half.)

Other second trimester stuff?

Ice. Again. (Still?) Obssessed with ice. Chewing some right now. Carefully. Daydreaming about buying a whole bag of Sonic ice to shove into our teeny apartment-refrigerator. Can't stop, won't stop.

Exercise: It happens now! And only once have I climbed right in bed afterward and started eating Ben + Jerry's ice cream. (I feel zero guilt about this.)

Belly buttons! We talk about them a lot. Charlie in particular has a lot of belly-button-related inquiries. He's still trying to grasp the way the umbilical cord works for the baby, and he's fixated with how my belly button sticks out (you can totes see it through my shirt already) and likes to poke it. (I do not like this. Belly buttons are not meant to be touched.)

Peeing: At least twice per night. The last time is usually around 4:30, and there is this bird in the parking lot who is already singing by then even though it is still dark. Not cool, bird.

Also a lot a lot a lot during the day. Because hydration is my jam. Also ice.

Drive through groceries! This is the best thing ever for a tired pregnant mama with a van full of (hungry) children. For $17 a month, you can order whatever you want online from Harris Teeter and they will SHOP FOR YOU, and when you drive over, and THEY WILL BRING IT TO YOUR CAR.

I do not have to push a cart. I do not even have to get out of the air conditioned driver's seat--they bring out a tablet thing so I can pay the bill. This is literally heavenly to me. And I know what literally means.

Oh yeah--and sometimes it rains. And I still don't have to get out.

See the gum clutched desperately between my teeth? ;)

As long-time in-school/residency poorsies, $17 counts as a lot of dollars to us. But right now? TOTALLY WORTH IT. I would pay more. (But don't tell them.)

Styes. Yep. Again. Though this time they are fewer and much further between--and I haven't hit Quasimodo status.

Naps: 1-2 hours. Everyday. Necessary. Wonderful.

Hunger. I'm hungry. Really hungry. :)

Crying. Okay, this might be the weirdest thing--I'm not really crying much. I might even be crying less than I do when I'm not pregnant. I'm totally cool with this, but, you know, for a girl who cries over that ASPCA commercial (you know, the Sarah McLauchlan one with the sad puppies?) its... unexpected.

Clothes: I'm growing out of them. Here's the stack that got put away last week. Thank goodness for maxi dresses--I have a feeling they might be all I've got left by the end of this. :)

One-floor life. So, other than having to climb a set of stairs to get from the car to the door, apartment-living is kind of perfect for a pregnant woman. Everything is on one level--no up and down to do laundry, check what the kids are up to, or get a brownie and glass of milk from the kitchen to go eat in my bed while I read. It's basically ideal.

ALSO! AT THIS APARTMENT, SOMEONE COMES BY YOUR FRONT DOOR EVERY WEEKDAY AND TAKES OUT YOUR GARBAGE FOR YOU!!!! WHAT?!?!?!?

That alone would make it worth it. :)

22 Weeks: A Dr. Visit and The Summer of Moving

It's kind of crazy how quickly things change, isn't it? Even planned things, things you've known about for months like a move or taking a final or something--its like for months you're planning and then suddenly its this blur of happening.

This time last week we were in our little house on Shillington with a few boxes packed. Today I'm sitting in my beloved blue armchair in the cozy master of our temporary apartment, exhausted and still only halfway (I hope?) through unpacking.

Rest and 10 minute breaks have been my good friends.

We have moved every single time I have been pregnant (1 week before Gracie was born, during the 1st trimester of Charlie, and in the 2nd trimester with Juliette), but this is the first time we will tackle 3 moves in just about as many months. We're here in the apartment in Winston while Steve finishes up PGY3 (final year of residency) and the older kiddos finish 2nd grade/preschool. The first week of July we'll make the trek to San Antonio, and live in another apartment there while the house we've commissioned (HOORAY!) is built. And then in the weeks just before or just after baby girl's arrival (depending on when she comes and how fast Texan builders build) we'll be moving for the third time, into our new Texas home.

All this is why I've unofficially dubbed these next few months as "The Summer of Moving."

Anyway, it definitely wore us all out--even the toddler.

But we're happy to be getting settled in our little apartment (which has a POOL!), AND that the next time we move, the military is going to come right over here and pack all our stuff up. #winning

Two Fridays ago, just before Mother's Day, we hit the 22 week mark with this cute and wiggly little lady. She is reportedly the size of a "small spaghetti squash," and according to the ultrasound we had on Monday of this week, she weighs 1 pound, 3 oz. That's no small baby to fit in a tiny-house mama, which is probably why I've suddenly started noticing that my belly runs in to everything now--the bathroom counter, the washing machine, and poor Juliette's noggin. (I've almost knocked her over a few times now.)

Perhaps the very best part of Monday's visit, though, was discovering that after four months, the SCH is gone! No more hemorrhage! Seeing the relief and joy on Steve's face when I told him almost hurt my heart. It's got to be hard to be weighed down the the burden of knowledge--his job means he knows all the "what ifs" that go along with anything remotely scary in pregnancy. But he's so good at hiding it that I didn't know he was still so worried.

There aren't words, really, to express how glad I am that this thing has healed up and our baby has a safer home in my belly now.

The first few months of this year were so hard. The illness, the bleeding, the constant worry, the uncertainty of where our path was taking us. I'm not sure of all the whys yet--what the greater point of that dark time for my soul was--but I am seeing now the beauty Heavenly Father is unfolding for us. There are still miles to go--literal and figurative--before we reach a point of more rest and a little more ease, but I am so thankful for the sunshine that is beginning to refill my heart. I certainly appreciate it more now than I did before.

That said... the refiner's fire still isn't my favorite. ;)

xo,

Jamie

p.s.

Stats (as of doctor appt):
Weeks pregnant: 22 weeks, 3 days
Baby's fruit/food size: Small spaghetti squash
Net weight gain: 16 lbs
Doctor visits: 5
Cups peed in: 6
Blood draws: 4
Ultrasounds: 6

21 Weeks: Home Sweet San Antonio

The day before we reached 21 weeks, Steve flew out to Texas.

It was so last minute that it never even made it on our Google calendar. Our initial plan had been to head out to San Antonio and hang out in military temporary housing while we house-hunted together. But on Monday of the week Steve left, he kind of casually came up with the idea that he go out himself and Skype with me while he toured some houses. And Thursday morning (dark and early) he headed to the Charlotte airport and was off.

The Ottos, who were our across-the-street neighbors when Grace and Charlie were little, put him up for the weekend. I was so glad to have him staying with a sweet family instead of alone in some random hotel. Their daughter Faye even drew him a picture, and he watched a lot of Spurs basketball with the boys & their dad.

And during the day, he house hunted. Thursday was kind of a bust--he found zero properties he was interested in. But on Friday we found a place we loved, and put in an offer. Saturday he was left to explore the neighborhood while we waited for a response from the seller, and I suggested he check out some new builds so we would have a backup.

He called me from their model home and said, "You shouldn't have sent me here. I LOVE this."

He took me on a Skype tour and we talked numbers. Meanwhile the seller of the other house we liked came back with a not-very-compelling offer.

San Antonio LDS temple.

After some conversation, prayer, and a trip to the San Antonio temple for my Steven, we decided to go with a new build. And then the whirlwind began!

He signed papers and went straight to the showroom where we started making as many choices as we could so the house could get started ASAP. Grown up choices, like which tile to match with granite! Yikes! We both kind of couldn't believe we were doing it. :)

He even drove over to our very own dirt lot and showed me where our house would be.

The kids and I spent Daddy's time away at swimming lessons, hanging out at home, going to church, and hanging out at home. I was so thankful for a sweet lady from church who brought us dinner Monday night (Steve's last day gone) when I was worn to the bone. My poor little body was so wiped out that I got a stye and a cold sore, on top of needing a few days of good naps to catch up. But we did it! And now we've got a house in the works to take this little baby home to. <3

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.

16 Weeks: Stripes, Spring, and Some Settled Things

The weather is warming, flowers are blooming, and for the last few weeks it has been mostly glorious outside. Temps in the 70's and lovely little springtime zephyrs breezing around us. The kids have been anxious to play outside on their scooters and bikes, so yesterday morning I hauled my tired pregnant self out into the front yard with them and sat in the shade with my striped-bump and watched them play.

I've been feeling almost totally human in the eating department lately, which--in addition to the sunny springtime weather--has lifted my mood quite a bit. I've switched from eating tons of rice and croissants to oatmeal for breakfast (ironically, I can't eat this when I'm not pregnant because I threw it up so many times during my Gracie-pregnancy!), quesadillas with salsa and sour cream, with a side of apples for lunch, and pretty much whatever everyone else is eating for dinner. Last night I even cooked chicken to make a salad, which I haven't done since 2015. I am happy that my body is now accepting vegetables and fruits as well as carbs, carbs, carbs.

That's not to say I don't still have some queasiness. I'm down to one Zofran a day, for the evening sicky feelings, but I do also chew spearmint gum non-stop all day to keep my stomach settled. Steve says the whole house smells like mint when he gets home! :) And I have to be in bed by 10ish or my stomach revolts. But for the most part, I'm like a million times better on that front.

The babes (who is 5 inches long/avocado-sized) and I have also had a predilection for springtime Oreos at dessert time, and Welch's fruit snacks pretty much any time of day. One great thing about being a grown up is that you don't have to ask permission to eat fruit snacks anymore. And you can eat as many as you want in a day, and even have them right before breakfast.

My belly out grew all my shirts this week, so I sneaked off to the mall find some stretchier shirts when Steve had a free morning. Now I feel pretty well stocked for the second trimester, and I can't tell you the difference that well fitting clothes are making for my self-esteem. I feel pretty for the first time in this pregnancy. :)

And this time around... I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that I'm just not going to feel 100%. All through Juliette's pregnancy I kept waiting for the normal-Jamie energy and healthiness to come back. I pushed myself really hard (I was literally scrambling to finish editing a novel for a client from my bed the night before Jules was born) and all it did was make me more tired, more desperate, more discouraged. Last night I told Steve I just want to be able to be myself again, feel like myself, do the things I normally do. And he very kindly responded, "But you know you won't be able to until the end of this pregnancy, right?"

I guess I knew, but I hadn't really admitted it to myself yet. It's a tough pill to swallow, to say the least.

Many other things are settling into place for us, though. We found out last week that we are going to be assigned to San Antonio for the next four years! We are SO excited, and already hunting through house options and daydreaming. We also finalized our temporary housing situation (so we have somewhere to live between closing day on our NC home and moving out to TX when Steve finishes PGY3 at the end of June). We signed a lease on a nice apartment nearby, and plan to take just the necessities, treat it like a vacation, and spend a LOT of time at the complex's pool with the kiddos. :)

15 Weeks: Baby Emojis

Text messages you get/send when your baby is the size of a navel orange. :)

At fifteen weeks my belly popped fo sho. Stretchy pants have been in full force since I stopped wearing maternity leggings non-stop (during the worst of the morning sickness). I tried to use the belly band and the hairband-through-the-button-hole tricks with my non-prego jeans, and while those did make them fit, neither was very comfortable. So I bought two pairs of new jeans with ginormous stretchy panels and I am much more comfortable.

Those were the first pregnancy-related clothes I've purchased this time around. Usually I start maternity shopping as soon as I find out I'm pregnancy, but all the bleeding that plagued the first trimester had me worried. I couldn't bear the thought of buying clothes and then losing the babe early on and not being able to wear them. I feel superstitious even writing that. But at 15 weeks, after that good ultrasound and the end of the bleeding that had me so worried (and with my belly insisting that we get some larger pieces of clothing) I did a lot more shopping. Nothing crazy, just filling out my wardrobe with a pair of gym shorts, a second pair of denim shorts in white, and a couple other stretchy/flowy things that will hopefully work with me through the addition of more and more belly curve.

Clothes are one of the few things I really enjoy about pregnancy. (I am alllll about my babies, but the pregnancy process is just not pretty for me from start to finish.) So it was fun to finally feel like there was a perk or two to enjoy.

Baby is still fluttering around, and I feel it more and more. We scheduled the gender-reveal ultrasound for April 11, so we'll know pretty soon what sort of clothes to pull out of storage and what kinds of names to work on. We have a few we're tossing around. Excited to see who this little person is. :)

The Third Doctor Visit.

Tuesday morning was our (baby's and my) third doctor visit. It started off with a nice long wait in the waiting room. Thirty minutes. Normally I wouldn't have minded, but I had purposefully not peed before I left the house assuming that they would want me to pee in their cup instead. Which they did, but not until much, much later! Anyway, suffice it to say I was keenly aware of the delay to my appointment.

We started off with an ultrasound, where the sonographer checked on the SCH they've been watching since all the scariness of week nine. My bleeding stopped in the middle of last week (thank goodness), and the ultrasound revealed that (yay!) my hemorrhage was getting smaller. We also got to take a peek at baby, who was very cozy and measured four days ahead of schedule. Already striving to keep up with the Walton standard. :)

Baby, please be less than 10 pounds.

The sonographer also grabbed a quick snapshot of the babe, who was in full glamour shot position with his/her fist under her chin:

After the ultrasound I had a quick doctor visit as well. They took my blood pressure (which the nurse told me was "practically non-existent") and then finally let me pee in the cup. I don't think I've ever been so enthusiastic about that. Then I met with Dr. Pollard for a quick talk about the ultrasound and to ask questions. (I'm not having Braxton Hicks, my cervix is closed, that weird belly pain is "ligament pain" as my uterus moves from my pelvis to my abdomen. #TMI)

And then I was out the door and bound for home, where everybody (hubs and sibs) passed around our new baby picture. :)

Stats (as of doctor appt):
Weeks pregnant: 14 weeks, 4 days
Baby's fruit size: Lemon
Net weight gain: 3lbs
Doctor visits: 3
Cups peed in: 3
Blood draws: 2
Ultrasounds: 5