Evolution of The Best Smile Ever

When I was 34 weeks pregnant, I had a second sonogram.  I actually requested it from my OB and he obliged as he could "medically" recommend one based on my "advanced maternal age."  I saw the doctor after the sonogram and he assured me that everything was completely fine and that baby was growing right on schedule.  End of sonogram discussion.

At my appointment the following week, I opted to see a nurse practitioner instead of waiting for my OB to return from the delivery he was doing. The practitioner had never seen me before and in her brief review of my file, she nonchalantly made the following comment to me...

"So we did a sonogram last week to try to locate baby's mouth since we couldn't find it the first time."

Excuse me?  

What did you just say?  

Um, no!

I'm just old... that's why we did the sonogram!

"Well... it says here that the perinatologist who reads our sonograms wasn't able to identify the mouth on the original sonogram and so we rechecked it last week.  We haven't received her report back on that sonogram yet."

She clearly did not understand that you don't say this to someone like me with terrible anxiety!

The following week, at my next appointment, my OB and I had a few things to clear up!  He confirmed that the sonograms, both of them, had not been able to identify the baby's mouth.  He had opted not to tell me about this because he knows I'm an obsessive worrier and that I would take this "non-information" and worry the remainder of my pregnancy.  He called it "non-information" because it didn't necessarily tell them anything other than the fact that they couldn't see something. He said...

"It doesn't mean it's not there or that there is something wrong.  It just means we can't see it."

To me that screamed RED FLAG! 

To him, it meant nothing to worry about.  

The reality of the concern was that the baby may or may not have had a cleft lip and/or palette. I began researching and obsessing just as he thought I would.  He remained calm and begged me to stop doing such "research."  I tried my best to trust him and stop worrying, but the fact that they couldn't find my baby's mouth on not one, but TWO, sonograms seemed like something that I should be worried about!

And then she was born.

And I saw the tiniest of mouths tucked in between the chubbiest of cheeks!

No wonder they couldn't see her mouth...

it's so small...

like a baby doll's mouth!

{Less than 1 hour old}

I'm pretty sure this is me telling my OB that he was right, as usual, and that I should not have worried.

So Lucy Elizabeth most definitely has a mouth.

A very sweet and very tiny mouth.

{Going Home Day}

And it took a while for that tiny little mouth to start turning upwards into a smile.  Around 7 weeks, she started giving us itty bitty upturns at the corners of her bitty mouth... the beginnings of the smile that would become the best and brightest baby smile ever. 

So here it is...

the evolution of the best smile EVER!

{8.11.14 - 7 1/2 weeks}

{8.13.14 - 7 1/2 weeks}

{8.14.14 - 7 1/2 weeks}

{8.20.14 - 2 MONTHS}

{8.31.14 - 2 1/2 months}

{9.1.14 - 2 1/2 months}

{9.6.14 - 2 1/2 months}

{9.12.14 - 2 3/4 months}

{9.20.14 - 3 MONTHS}

{10.1.14 - 3 months}

By 4 months, her smile started to become a 

"mouth wide open" kind of smile.

{10.17.14 - 3 3/4 months}

{10.20.14 - 4 MONTHS}

Near 5 months, her smile evolved more and she began to squinch up her cheeks prior to opening her mouth for her full "mouth wide open" smile

{11.17.14 - 4 3/4 months}

{12.20.14 - 6 MONTHS}

Today, at nearly 7 1/2 months, Lucy's tiny mouth transforms into a GIANT grin whenever someone makes eye contact with her or speaks her name.  Her tiny mouth is wide open and happy nearly all of the time.  Her little mouth - the one that no one could find on my sonograms - has been the source of so much joy in our household these past 7 1/2 months.  

This tiny, baby-doll mouth...

transforms into this...

It is infectious.  

It is perfection.

It is the best smile EVER!

It's A...

Vance and I have actually known our 5th baby's gender for quite some time (due to pre-natal DNA testing ), but we decided to wait to tell our kids until we saw it in "black and white" on the screen at our sonogram.

We got that on-screen confirmation on Thursday and took home this box to reveal our secret to four anxious and excited kids.

The predictions:
Noah:  Boy, switched to Girl (to protect his own heart, I think)
Emily:  Boy
Molly:  Girl
Abby:  Still has no clue what's coming!

The reveal:

The result:

{Emily exclaims... "It's a GIRL!}

The reactions:

{Emily is super excited!}

{Noah is not sure how to react.  I think he is secretly saying... "seriously?!"

So yes...

There will be more pink, more hand-me-downs, more estrogen and hormones, more hours of fixing hair causing us to run late everywhere, and more years of playing dress up.

Another girl.

I can hardly believe it.

This pregnancy has differed so much from my past few pregnancies.  I felt certain that those differences indicated that a boy was on its way.  In fact, I was so convinced I was carrying a "y chromosome" that I actually began to worry...fearing that I was unequipped or unable to raise little boys with lots of energy and spunk.  When I pondered names, I only considered boy names.  I skipped over the pink decor in the magazines; focusing instead on the boy rooms and dreaming of a grey and blue nursery.  I even thought I SAW a boy on a 10 week sonogram!

But perhaps I was just hoping...

Hoping that I would be able to give my oldest the brother he has always wanted.

I can still vividly remember his reaction and the sad, sad look on his face when he learned that Molly was going to be Molly... not Max.

He hoped that Abby would be a boy too, but was old enough at that point to understand that a healthy baby was all that really mattered.  But his heart still sank a bit when he learned that that his hoped for "he" was another "she".

He talks often about wanting a brother...openly sharing his frustration about having to be around girls all the time..."babysitters, sisters, Nonny, and YaYa...they're all girls!"

So when we got this unexpected surprise, we all hoped...hoped for him.  Even Emily sensed it and joined in with the hope that she, too, would have another brother.

As the weeks went on though, he began to protect his own heart for what he secretly feared might turn out to be another disappointment.  While he initially talked openly of hoping for a boy, in recent weeks he changed his story; saying he now hoped for a girl instead.

When asked why, he spoke of not wanting to have to share his special time with his Daddy and his PaPa...going to KU games, playing golf, shooting hoops and playing tennis.  He didn't want another boy to infringe on his special "boy time." 

His story was convincing.

So convincing that I became less worried about sharing our secret...and breaking his heart, yet again.

His words convinced me that he, in fact, wanted a girl.

But his face, this face, told the true story.

His exterior is smiling; showcasing the politically correct emotion.  But the shock in his eyes and the furrow in his brow revealed to me his interior feelings...shattered hope.

I received confirmation of his true feelings when, after a few minutes, he looked at me, wearing that same shocked and plastered on smile, and said...

"So...I guess this is probably the last kid, right?"

It was as if he just needed to confirm that his "last shot" had just been blown.

I tried to cheer him up; reminding him his special "boy time" with his Daddy and PaPa would not be threatened by an annoying little brother who wanted to tag along with his older brother everywhere.  We talked about his specialness in being the oldest and the only boy.  I reminded him that the baby appears healthy and that was the most important thing.  And we spoke about how his birth was extra unique in that it was through the birth of my one and only boy that I got the privilege of becoming a mom in the first place.

He seemed to buy it... at least for a moment.

When the girls left the room and it was just me and him remaining, he quietly asked...

"Mom, why?  Why did God think we needed another girl?"

I attempted to answer a question that truly can't be answered.

Like so many things in life, some things simply can't be explained in this lifetime.

And so I assured him that while I might not be able to give him a baby brother, I can give him my love, a large family to grow up with, sisters to protect, and the hope of having the next best thing... four really great brother-in-laws someday!

Odd

Hello, little blog.

It's nice to see you again.

I've been markedly absent for a few months.  The reason being the chaos of life in general, as well as feeling a bit odd... emotionally and physically; leaving me with little energy or time to type out my thoughts and life moments in this little space that I have grown to love.

Vance and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary at the beginning of October.  We escaped for a kid-free weekend in Kansas City to relax and to shop model homes for floor plans in anticipation of potentially building a new house next year.  

Unbeknownst to us, that weekend trip marked the beginning of these odd feelings; both physical and emotional.

Little did we know as we shopped floor plans that offered 4 kid bedrooms on one floor that God was at work changing up our family dynamic... this time, making it odd in number {again}.  And making the need to shop for house plans more necessary than we knew as we walked the floors of those model homes.

After feeling, well... odd, for over a month, we were shocked and surprised to discover that our family would, once again, become odd in number in the summer of 2014.

The physical oddness is to be expected in early pregnancy.  But my physical symptoms are slightly different than in my previous 4 pregnancies; leaving a worrier like myself trying (much too often) to contemplate the reasons for those differences.  Things just feel different.  Odd.  And at nearly 13 weeks, I have officially entered the awkward and well... odd stage of pregnancy in which I don't look pregnant, just fat.  

But the emotional oddness is what has been affecting me more profoundly this time.  I remember the mixed and strange reactions we received when we shared that we were expecting our {planned} fourth pregnancy.  So wondering what kind of reactions we would get when we shared this {surprise} fifth pregnancy felt even more odd.  We knew we would get odd looks and reactions as well as unsolicited comments about whether or not we understand "how these things happen."  For the record, we do!  We also know how odd this news might seem to the eyes of society at large.  And thinking about all of this made us feel odd about sharing the news.

And so we held it close to us for as long as we could.  When the physical symptoms proved to be too difficult to hide any longer, we began to selectively share the news with close family and friends.  We are blessed immensely with family and friends who share our openness to life and reject societal norms about "what a family should look like."  We didn't get a single odd reaction from anyone.  Just smiles, words of heartfelt congratulations, and offers to help in any and every way.

And then we told our kids.

Without a single second of hesitation, they each smiled from ear to ear and showed us a sparkle in their eyes as they exclaimed "yea!"  Not a second thought about whether or not having another sibling would be odd for them.  Just excitement and immediate predictions about whether it would be a brother or sister.  

The next day, I went to their school to attend Mass.  As I entered the building, I was greeted with a big hug and words of "congratulations" from the school principal.  When I looked surprised by her greeting, she quickly told me that Noah had come to her that morning and asked her to pray for me (over the school intercom) because I had not been feeling well because I was pregnant.  No thoughts of whether or not another sibling would be an infringement on his life... just simple excitement and concern for his mother.

And with that act of compassion by Noah, the beans were officially spilled and our surprising news spread.

Regardless of the unexpected and overall positive reactions to our news, I still feel odd about it... even today.

Perhaps it's because I'm increasingly worried about my age; which is "advanced" by child-bearing standards.

Perhaps it's because I feel my life is in constant chaos and the idea of adding another layer feels a bit crazy.

Perhaps it's because although we will always maintain an openness to life, my head felt like Abby was the last one.

Perhaps it's because I'm being offered additional tests to "rule out" complications which is making my mind fret with fear and allowing anxiety over health concerns to consume me.

Perhaps it's because I find myself thinking about things such as how I will fit 5 car seats into my mini-van or where a 5th baby bed will reside in our already cramped living quarters.

Or perhaps it's because this is the first true surprise... the only one that we didn't think was a possibility.  

Whatever the reason for my feelings of oddness, I am certain of just one thing... but it's a very important "thing".  

It's this:  I am 100% certain that this is God's plan and will for our life.  There are very few moments in life where a person can assert that level of certainty about something.  I don't think I have ever experienced this degree of certainty about responding to God's call and knowing in the depths of my soul that I am walking in His will.  And that's a pretty great feeling!

Even though we thought our life was heading in a different direction, we remained open to allow God to reveal His plan to us should it be different than our own.  Turns out, it was different.  And the only reason we know that is because we did nothing to stop Him from revealing this plan.  That is why I can be so certain in my statement that this is God's plan for us. 

No matter how odd it might seem to society and no matter how odd it might feel to me right now, this is God's plan.

And I can trust it.  

HOME... with shaved legs

We are HOME!


And today, I shaved my legs!


It's amazing what a long, hot bath and freshly shaved legs can do for my spirits.  I feel like a whole new person!


I didn't get to shave my legs before I went to the hospital.  It was one of those things that didn't get crossed off my list.  And I always shave my legs before giving birth...  it just makes me feel better.  


So add "unshaved legs" to the list of all the things that didn't go as I planned for Abby's birth.


That and a third admittance to the hospital!  That's right... after Abby was released from the hospital, two days later, I landed myself right back there again!  


It has become my mantra... Not What I Planned!


Swollen legs, chest pain, a heart murmur, and an elevated marker on a blood test were reasons enough to get me admitted to the cardiac unit of the hospital.  And so Vance and I spent our sixth night in eight days at the hospital... this time it was me that was being tested and monitored for cardiac "stuff".   


So my unshaved legs and weary spirit got to take my very first ride in the back of an ambulance...

And after that, my unshaved legs got to wear these fancy motorized air massage wraps and snazzy socks for two days...

Whether or not they were successful in sending the blood from my legs to my heart is uncertain, but I do think they helped to reduce my leg swelling as I am starting to see signs of my ankles again!


All in all, this hospital stay proved to be another small bump in the road and we are now HOME again... all six of us!


And today, I have shaved legs!

Abby is doing well.  Amazingly well.  So well, I'm nervous... wondering if and how long it will last!


She is being loved on by her siblings.

She is sleeping well... even during her bath!

She is opening her eyes more often every day.

And I am fine too.  My heart issues proved to be the result of too much fluid that I had not yet released from my body.  It is starting to come off and I'm starting to feel better.


And I am starting to catch my breath and figure out how to manage my household of six.  It is an adjustment; one that I haven't completely figured out yet.  But I will get there.  


I am just grateful to be HOME.  And I'm grateful for Abby's health, for my health, and crazy though it seems around here, I am grateful for the chaos.  When I was wearing the leg massagers and had unshaved legs in the hospital, I craved the chaos of home.  


It was a bumpy and unplanned week for sure, but all is beginning to settle.


We are HOME.


And today I have shaved legs!  Things are looking up!

The Last Time

After a month of insane "nesting", I have been laying down, on my left side, for the past 48 hours.  My pregnant body has finally given out on me and I've been forced to stop all of my incessant projects.


As I lay here, with lists of unfinished projects flashing through my mind, I am feeling emotionally overwhelmed.  Overwhelmed for a variety of reasons...  


because I have so many uncrossed off items on my "to do" lists.... 
because my hormones are raging and crying just seems to be a natural side effect.... 
because I'm in excruciating pain; worse than giving birth kind of pain....
because all of my plans to prepare for baby have been interrupted... 

But also because the down time is forcing me to think about the impending birth of my daughter.  And whether or not it will be the last time...

• the last time I feel the movements of a tiny miracle inside of me
• the last time I wash up tiny pink gowns and sleepers in anticipation of the sweet baby who will soon wear them
• the last time I prepare a diaper bag 
• the last time I dress up a baby crib with sweet baby bedding
• the last time I purchase itty bitty diapers
• the last time I see the excitement of my older children as they kiss my big tummy
• the last time I think about baby names
• the last time I feel the "nesting" instinct and the excited anxiety that comes with welcoming a new baby
• the last time...

I can't believe that nine months have passed and that the time is almost here.  In all honesty, the past nine months have been hard.  Very hard.  Physically and emotionally.  

From a physical standpoint, there are many reasons I am happy to be nearing the end of this journey.  As Vance said to me a week or so ago, my body "just isn't made" for having lots of babies.  My body doesn't handle the physical stress very well.  And this fourth go around has proved to be tougher, much tougher, than ever before.  Even as I type, I'm dealing with an extremely painful side effect of pregnancy that has not plagued me in the past.  One that has forced me to pray over whether or not I will have surgery in the coming days... at 38 1/2 weeks gestation.

And there have been emotional challenges as well.  I won't detail them, but this pregnancy has taken its emotional toil not only on me, but on the other members of my immediate and extended family as well.  

So given all of the "challenges" (although they still pale in comparison to what others have to deal with; which makes me feel guilty for even calling them challenges...) that having a fourth baby has presented to my family, it seems logical and reasonable that I would be able to definitively say with confidence that this will be the last time.  

That this is our fourth and final child.

But I can't do it.  

I won't do it!

As I've busied myself amidst a mirage of insane "nesting" projects in the past few weeks, I've been reminded over and over how quickly time passes and that babies don't last long...    

I cried when I packed up the Thomas the Train set and placed it high up on a closet shelf; saving it to be handed on to my grandchildren one day.

I cried when I took these pictures...

It was the last night that Noah slept in his upstairs room.  I remember, like it was yesterday, taking the picture on the very first night he slept in this room; days before Emily made her way into the world.  And now it is repainted, with different furniture, awaiting another new sibling.  And Noah sleeps in a different room... a bigger one for my much bigger boy.

I cried when I opened up these...

Nearly seven years of clothing that I carefully selected and dressed my firstborn in.  As I pulled out outfit after outfit, I could vividly remember Noah wearing these clothes; what we did while he wore them; how "easy" and carefree those days seemed in comparison to the chaotic days of today.  And although the clothes had to go and they all went to lovely friends, it still saddened me to think that one of my children would not wear these clothes again.

I cried as I typed all of those words; just thinking about it all!

Now I could blame all of these emotions on crazy pregnancy hormones.   And I'm sure that hormones do play a part in my heightened emotion.  But I can not, and will not, blame pregnancy insanity for 100% of my emotion and unwillingness to declare this to be the last time.

As I've mentioned before, my heart changed when we embraced the historic and unwavering teaching of the Catholic Church on artificial contraception and sterilization.  I've shared my stories about embracing Natural Family Planning here and here and here.  

It is that "heart change" that leads to my emotion over whether or not this will be the last time.  The more I've embraced a general openness to life, the more my heart has opened towards the number of children I would like.  And the harder it has become to be definitive and final in thinking about the size of my family.  

It has been a shift in thought for me; a letting go of the selfishness and society norms and an acceptance of the transformation that so-called challenges can bring (as expressed here).  I don't know exactly how to put it into words.  Natural Family Planning changes your heart.  It just does.

So in my frenzied and heightened state of emotion, I am more grateful than ever before for the Church's teaching.  For without it, I might be inclined to make a rash decision I might one day regret.  I might actually believe myself when I tell myself that I can't possibly do this again... that it has to be the last time.

Even though, at this moment, I feel like this should and might very well be the last time, I have great peace in knowing that a decision of that magnitude is not mine alone to make.  It brings me great comfort to know that even though Vance and I may feel like our family is complete with four children, should God have other plans for us, we will trust and embrace those plans.  Because He knows best.  And we have not, and will not, do anything to artificially remove Him from planning our family.

So as I continue to lay here in bed, I am intentionally holding on to the voracious and miraculous movements in my belly with a little more focus than I have in the past.  Because I know that it might be the last time I feel the specialness of them.

But then again, it might not.

And that is all I need to know to calm my emotional, anxious, and overwhelmed heart!