Violet's Birth Story

Well, folks, she's finally here.

Actually she's been here for 6 days now. The past 6 days have gone by like a swift breeze, a stark contrast to the slow weeks before when I would have sworn I was living my own hellish version of the movie Groundhog Day. Every day I woke up pregnant, for 16 entire days past my due date... longest days of my life.

Seeing as I was carrying the label of "gestational diabetic" {even though I still have serious doubts I really was a diabetic}, it's amazing my doctor "let" me go to 42 weeks. Most doctors insist on induction for GD moms at 38 weeks, as GD moms are at higher risk of having fat babies that get stuck in the birth canal. My doctor didn't bring up induction until I hit week 40, and we went so far as to schedule one at that point. But once the day arrived, I called and canceled. I had my heart set on going into labor naturally, along with a gut feeling that it wasn't time and I was also planning on a VBAC using the Hypnobirthing technique. Seeing as 40% of attempted VBACs are unsuccessful, however, I knew another c-section was a definite possibility.

Here is how Violet came to be:

Just kidding, that part is personal. Here is how she was born, 42 weeks later:

I'll spare you the grueling emotional rollercoaster of the weeks preceding her birth. I complained enough about that on Facebook, anyway. {Justin likes to refer to my recent moods as "hormotional".} I wonder how many people got sick of my whiny status updates and defriended me?

I went into labor on my own around 5am on Saturday the 19th! When I woke up that morning to the undeniable symptoms of early labor I literally did a happy dance. I was scheduled to be induced the very next night, at 42 weeks + 2 days, and had been panicking at the thought. Many might not think induction is so bad, but after weeks {months!} of research on natural birthing and the obvious benefits, I've learned just how tricky inductions can be and they are rarely free of complications and interventions.

Contractions came all day Saturday, getting stronger and closer together like they're supposed to, but very slowly. It wasn't until 8pm, after spending the day at my parents house which is minutes from the hospital, that I finally decided to call the doctor and see if I should head to the hospital. Contractions were 5-7 minutes apart, and getting more intense. I was using my Hypnobirthing techniques to keep myself relaxed and in very little pain, but it'd been about 13 hours since the onset of labor, I was eager to get things moving.

My doctor wasn't available that night, so instead I got a hold of the on-call doctor, "Dr. G". He was surprised to learn I was a VBAC {vaginal birth after cesarean} with {supposed} GD and had been "allowed" to go to 42 weeks. I explained to him that I really hadn't given my doctor a choice on the matter. {My recent research on natural birthing had made me feel all empowered! I believe women should educated them on the birthing process instead of walking into labor & delivery blindly trusting their doctor and allowing he/she to make all the choices. It is, after all, my body - my choice.}

Dr. G agreed it might be good for me to head to the hospital to see if Violet was descending and labor was progressing. If I was still in early labor, I could go home for the night.

I took my time, ate dinner, and tearfully said goodbye to Eisley. {Hormotional}. It was hard to leave her! I felt like I was abandoning her. We headed into the hospital around 10:30pm. I was torn between wanting to stay and wanting to go home. On one hand I hoped I would get there and be surprisingly advanced - maybe dilated to 5 or 6? Then I would be able to stay and look forward to the birth soon to come! On the other hand, I was going on 17 hours of labor at this point {albeit early labor} and was growing tired. The thought of going home and getting some sleep or taking a bath sounded really good.

I was one of only two women in labor & delivery when we got to the hospital. Unfortunately I was assigned to that nurse. The majority of the nurses in labor & delivery and also postpartum have been wonderful, in my previous experience. But there's always that one nurse you hear about. And just like last time with Eisley's birth, my first nurse was the one. Justin and I didn't like her at all. Just more reason to go home.

After 17 hours of labor & steady contractions, I was dilated to 1cm! The nurse tried to make a mountain out of a mole hill regarding one heart decel Violet had {tsk, tsk, using scare tactics on patients} and demanded I take a test to ensure my water hadn't broken {it hadn't}, but in the end I insisted on going home to get rest where I'd be more comfortable. Being only 1cm, it was obvious this might be a while.

She sure did take her time getting us discharged, especially considering I was one of two patients on the entire floor that night, but we finally left around 2:30 am.

By the time we got home, it was obvious labor was progressing at least some {I'd give more details, but it'd just gross you out}. My Hypnobirthing techniques had been serving me well up to that point, but now I was going on almost 24 full hours of zero sleep, so the relaxation and visualization techniques I'd been practicing for weeks were losing their effectiveness. The contractions were getting really strong, they were absolutely gripping at this point. I couldn't walk or move during them, nor could I talk other than select four-letter words. I'd been hoping that the 42+ week pregnancy meant I'd be rewarded with one of those fast labors, or at least one less than 12 hours like so many subsequent pregnancies end up with. Unfortunately mine was proving to be a long and difficult one, and I was starting to doubt my ability to go without drugs like I'd planned.

Unable to sleep with the contractions growing more intense, I got into the bathtub. I can certainly understand why so many women do water births! The warm bath served as a natural pain killer and probably cut the intensity of my contractions by 50%. Justin took the opportunity to nap on the couch, and I even enjoyed a glass of wine and just prayed that progress was being made. But all good baths grow cold eventually and by the time I was shivering I admitted to myself it was time to get out and see what happened next...

And what happened next was Justin & I in bed until 7am, him sleeping in four-minute increments and me clawing into his arm and moaning in four-minute increments. I'd given up on my Hypnobirthing techniques by this point, way too exhausted from 24+ hours of laboring to put in the concentration it took to put mind over matter and dull the pain. We knew, around 8:30am, that it was time to head back to the hospital - if not to hopefully give birth shortly, then to at least get some sort of pain relief.

If I was lucky enough to arrive at the hospital with advanced dilation, maybe 5cm or more?, then I would keep trucking, I decided. But if not, well, I'd decide when I got there...

I muttered a "few" expletives on the drive to the hospital.

When we parked I got out of the car and stood there for a couple minutes, shivering in the cold, unable to move until the contraction subsided. {I'm really not trying to be dramatic here, people, does this sound over-indulgent in the pity area? I'm just trying to tell it like it was...}

This time I arrived in labor & delivery they were busier, and I was blessed to be assigned a wonderful nurse! She was Irish, from Dublin, and she was wonderful and suited me perfectly. {Nurses may not seem like a big deal, but when you're dealing with a woman who is helping you manage the discomfort and seeing/touching parts of your body even you aren't familiar with - to me their personality can make all the difference.}

I had been hoping for more progress, but at this point I was 3cm & 70% effaced. At least it was something. But seeing as labor was now approaching 30 hours and it seemed I had miles to go, when she mentioned my natural birth plan I started to cave. Who knew how many more hours I'd be in labor? And I realized I wouldn't do so well without rest, so the epidural was starting to look really appealing at this point, despite the fact that I'd so hoped to avoid it. If I knew at that point that it'd only be a few more hours, I'd like to think I would have pushed through. But I had no way of knowing how much longer it'd be, so I caved. I needed rest!

My wonderful Irish nurse, who started out her career as a certified nurse midwife, was so reassuring at this point. She'd done a natural birth herself, but also one with an epidural, she knew what I was going through at that moment and praised me for going that far - which in my hormotional state was so lovely to hear from someone at that point, bless her.

I forgot to mention - the most significant factor regarding my slow going labor at this point: Violet was not descending, she was still at a -3/-2 station {about as high as they can be}. This was exactly like Eisley's birth had gone, 18 hours of labor/failed induction she hadn't descended, which resulted in a c-section...

Now close to 30 hours of real labor - without any descent on the baby's part... not boding well for a VBAC.

I was surprised that the anesthesiologist came very shortly after I arrived, and the relief was oh so sweet. For the first time in well over a day, I could truly rest while my body kept laboring. The epidural, while not ideal for those who prefer natural, is still a wonderful invention. Contractions were coming stronger than ever, regularly 2-3 minutes apart and strong on the monitor. These were baby-having contractions, Irish nurse assured me. Hopefully they'd produce some progress soon.

Dr. G arrived shortly after the epidural, confirmed the slow progress and Violet's high station, and also discovered that my water had broken at some point. {I'm guessing when I was in the bath?}

I liked Dr. G, even though he wasn't willing to offer me much hope. "I'll be honest, if you can manage a VBAC at this point I'll be impressed." He was right, my labor was way off the curve, as he put it. 30+ hours with this little progression, specifically Violet's station, and considering I was a VBAC with GD and a previous failed induction, the odds were stacked very high against me by this point.

But since Violet was doing so well and I was now resting comfortably, we decided to see if the epidural helped relax me enough to produce some progress and gave it a few more hours. Dr. G could have given me pitocin to produce stronger contractions in hopes of forcing Violet down, but I was pleased that he wasn't thrilled with the idea since I had a uterine scar that could possibly rupture with such strong drug-induced contractions. {I am NOT a fan of pitocin, having done research on it.}

There are several possible reasons why Violet {and Eisley} did not want to descend, we're just not sure what exactly what prevented it. With both births now the doctors liked to think I was going to have huge babies. Eisley was estimated to weigh 9 lbs with a huge head before I gave birth {she was a mere 6 pounder with a little head} and the doctors assumed with Violet since I had {borderline!} GD & went to 42 weeks that she would be enormous. Dr. G said at one point, "If we do a c-section and she's a 9 pounder I'll be saying 'You're welcome!'" He was obviously concerned about the fact that I was a GD patient at 42 weeks... even though I wasn't.

But despite my lack of concern that Violet was large {I never thought she really was}, when 1:45pm rolled around - Sunday the 20th - and I was still at 3cm with Violet as high up as she could be, I seriously began to think c-section. Dr. G was not at all pushy, since Violet was still doing great considering my strong contractions. Both he & Irish nurse expressed their doubts on my ability to have a successful VBAC at this point, but they were willing to allow me to keep going. This was the same point I had reached with Eisley two and a half years ago. Ultimately, I made the decision. C-section it would be.

After 42 weeks, 2 days {I know, I know, I keep saying this - but seriously} and now 34 hours of labor and no sleep - I WAS READY TO MEET MY BABY!

Just like last time, I coped by going over the positives in my head. It wasn't as I'd planned, but focusing on things to be thankful for keeps us from getting bitter - that is what I believe, even though I don't always practice it.

First, I wouldn't re-break my tailbone which was broken towards my birth canal years ago after a fall from a horse {and now, 6 days post-birth, having spent hours on my butt recovering & nursing Violet, I've already experienced enough discomfort with my healed tailbone to be very thankful it's not re-broken from a vaginal birth. The doctor who'd x-rayed my tailbone years ago had warned me I'd break it again when I gave birth. The breastfeeding would just not be happening if it had, it already gives me discomfort as it is.}

Second, I already have the "battle wounds" from a previous c-section. Subsequent c-sections are notoriously easier to recover from, as they go through the scar tissue from before. It is possibly quite a good thing to not have "battle wounds" from a vaginal birth as well. Better one or the other than both, I suppose. Rumor has it you can suffer all sorts of unpleasantness such as incontinence, etc., after giving birth vaginally.

Finally, despite it being a major surgery with longer recovery, there are some added benefits to the cesarean. I'll leave it at that, but being a veteran of two now, I have to say they're not all that bad in more ways than one. Not the end of the world. Many women even ask for c-sections these days. I had hoped to do it the way God intended, but I prayed and it was not so. There must be a good reason.

I'm just blessed to have two beautiful daughters now after two successful pregnancies.

And so around 3pm on Sunday the 20th of February, I was prepped for surgery. This time around I wasn't even nervous! I knew I'd finally have my baby in my arms and I was looking forward to the 42 weeks, 2 days, and 34 hours of labor to be OVER. Once and for all.

Violet was born at 3:55pm.

She weighed a whopping 7 lbs 13 oz {haha! Take THAT doctors who tried to scare me with the "Your baby is going to be HUGE because you [supposedly] have GD and are at 42 weeks!!!" Obviously I'd been right to follow my gut. She might not have fared as well had I allowed them to induce me at the standard 38 weeks for GD patients. Momma knows best!}

Her apgar score was 8/9 - perfect for Colorado.

I would detail the birth itself, but this post is already entirely too long, AND why tell you when I can show you???

Within the next couple days here I'll be posting the video Justin took of the c-section & Violet's birth! Don't worry, it's not at all graphic {except for the part where Violet pooped herself}.

Until then, please enjoy some pictures of Violet's first days. We love her!!! What a treasure God has sent us. Again.

Our family of FOUR!
{Woo! I am seriously puffed up. Ya'll should SEE my post-cesarean cankles. Frightening.}
Another tiny finger this poor guy is suddenly wrapped around.
Don't forget to leave a comment at the end of this post! No account needed.
Do you think she looks like Eisley?
Ready to go home after three nights in the hospital.

Come back soon to see the video of Violet's birth!

The True Meaning of Easter

My kindergarten teacher told this story about me for years, maybe she still tells it from time to time? The last time I heard it again was as a teenager, when the praise group I was in did chapel at her school one day.

It was the first day of kindergarten at my Lutheran elementary school in Denver, and we were having a lesson on our recently purchased school supplies. "Mrs. K" {sometimes we called her Mrs. CareBear} would ask,

"What do we use to write with?"

"A pencil." Some student would answer.

"What do we use to measure things?"

"A ruler." And so on.

At some point she asked,

"What do we use when we make a mistake?"

I raised my hand. I knew this one! She called on me so I answered matter-of-factly:

"Jesus."

Of course she meant an eraser, but my 5 year-old brain was on something better, the bigger picture. Children can have the sweetest outlook on God & Christ, so much more faithful and earnest than adults at times. They can really teach us a thing or two...

My friend, Melissa, posted this on Facebook yesterday and it really warmed my heart:

"Was at an Easter play tonight...heard one little boy yell at the Roman soldiers during the crucifixion scene...and then yell for Jesus to come and hold him at the resurrection scene. Love children!!"

Isn't that sweet?

Tomorrow I will be too busy to post, but we will be celebrating Easter.

It is the day Jesus became our eraser.
For our mistakes.

Adrenaline

Today, a couple hours after Justin left for work, Eisley was tired so she settled into the couch.

Cheerios & sippy cup in hand, she became engrossed in an episode of Miss Spider's Sunny Patch Friends. She usually hates that show, so I knew she was tired.

Not to miss a rare chance for a moment to myself while she's awake, I sat down at the table to read emails & the blogs I catch up with every day.

All was well.

Until, after about 20 minutes, Eisley left the couch to find me. She was limping. Slumped over. She looked lethargic...

and her left leg was swollen about three times it's normal size - looking ready to burst through the seams of her footed pajamas. The pajamas were still zipped & buttoned, but her leg was deformed and enormous.

I was absolutely alarmed. I read horror stories on other blogs all the time. True stories. Recently one about a boy who drowned in the tub and was technically dead for over 12 minutes {he's okay now}. Another about a little girl who was not so lucky, after a fainting spell she landed face down on a toy and suffocated. {Why do I read these things???}

And if you know me, you know I'm not the calm, collected, laid back mom who brushes off worry and anxiety.

So as I took in this sight - my child hobbling towards me with a horrifically swollen leg - my adrenaline glands intoxicated me.

Now - a lot of people don't mind adrenaline. It's fun! It's the reason we ride roller coasters, right?

UNTIL you become a parent, and then suddenly there's another side to adrenaline. It's evil. It means your child is in danger. This is, beyond question, the worst feeling in. the. world.

It makes you sick.

It makes you want to scratch your skin off.

It makes you physically ill.

When you are a parent this kind of adrenaline is liquid dread, 100 proof, injected directly into your marrow.

I've never experienced anything like it until I became a mom.

So that's what happened today, adrenaline shot into my body as I reached for Eisley.

I admit this, I didn't stop and think logically. I reacted. I panicked. I assumed the worse. {And I hate assumptions!}

Now here is reason #243 why moms are most certainly superheroes in their own right:

In that millisecond it took for me to reach down and grab my child - a mom can think one million thoughts in an instant. Our brains go into overdrive.

Here's a few of those thoughts, to give you an idea, that my supermom mind thought in the fraction of a second it took for me to lean over:

"Oh my gosh!!!"
"What happened?!"
"Did she break her leg?"
"Did she get a spider bite?"
"Why is she lethargic?"
"She looks distraught!"
"What am I going to feel when I touch her leg?"
"Is it black and blue?"
"Is she going to live?"
"Do I call 911 or do I rush her to the hospital?"
"The doctors are going to think I'm a bad mother..."
"Did this happen after she fell off the bed this morning
and it's been swelling all morning?!"
"What if she has to have her leg amputated?"
"Why isn't she crying? Does it hurt?"

{Note: I have heard that toddlers & babies can break their bones and show very few signs of distress, some parents don't even realize it for a few days.}

Did I overreact? Yes. {It's me, I always overreact a bit. I'm an excitable person. I will not apologize for this, however. I like having strong emotions and vibrancy in my heart. Most of the time.}

Sick, achy, and dreading what I would see & feel - my hand finished the journey towards her leg and gently squeezed.

Eisley looked up at me.

"Shuh-sha?" She said. Hardly distraught.

I pushed harder, since it wasn't hurting her.

Squish!

The tsunami-sized adrenaline waves receded within my veins.

Left over was a faint numb feeling and weakness in my limbs. I laughed and rolled my eyes at myself.

No spider bites.

No broken bones.

No mystery disease.

Apparently her diaper had come undone on the right, and worked itself down her left left. She had been limping from the strange feeling of a wet, full diaper wrapped around her leg. She had acted lethargic because, duh, it was nap time.

Silly mommy.

And although she was half-covered in her own urine, that was nothing a bath with mom couldn't fix.

Crisis averted.

My daughter had two perfect little legs.

A bath.

And a dry diaper.

My Gorjees Gerl

Someday, Eisley, this blog will hopefully be a sort of time capsule for you. A baby book. A scrapblog.

And you will read that on Sunday March 7th, 2010 we took you for a bagel after church.

You kept smiling at a funny dressed elderly woman each time she passed our table.

When we passed her again in the parking lot she stopped and said in a thick Russian, or Romanian, or some other Eastern European accent:

"You are sunshine! You are beautiful day, gorgeous girl!"

Or phonetically, because for some reason that's
part of what made this stranger's comment so special:

"Yew aer sunshen! Yew aer bootiful dea, gorjees gerl!"

You made her happy.
Just by smiling and being you.

MWAH!

A few days ago Eisley got a letter in the mail. It was from her Great Grandma Erwin, and enclosed was some money just for her, with instructions to find her something special for Christmas.

I tucked the bills away in my purse and made a mental note to myself to think of something special Eisley would like for Christmas.

A couple days later, after a family portrait session and lunch at Aspen Grove, Justin and I spotted Build A Bear Workshop.

"Do you think that's something Eisley would like to spend her Christmas money on?" Justin asked.

"I'm not sure..." I said.

We hesitated, after all, Eisley is only 16 months old and she cannot tell us herself what she would like and what she wouldn't. But we ended up entering the colorful store anyway, just to see {we told ourselves} if Eisley reacted to anything in the store.

Justin held her up to look at all the un-stuffed bear & animal skins to see if she took to any of them. A gray kitty made her smile so we decided to go with it.

Eisley watched as the employee used a huge machine to stuff fluff into the kitty and then sewed the kitty up.

Eager to see how she would react to her new stuffed friend, we handed over the kitty and...

"MWAH!" {The air kiss noise we taught her recently.}

Eisley kissed the kitty on the face, hugged kitty, and then kept going...

"MWAH! MWAH! MWAH!"

And we didn't even prompt her. She did it on her own whim.

Any doubts we had had about Eisley being old enough to enjoy Build A Bear were long gone. It was clear she had a new, and very dear, feline friend.

We dressed kitty in a Mrs. Claus outfit for kicks, paid {Eisley's Christmas gift money was exactly enough for the experience}, and left happy.

She still kisses that kitty...

Last night we put Eisley to bed with her kitty, and heard her kiss kitty. "MWAH! MWAH!"

Again this morning, I was downstairs and heard Eisley waking up...

"MWAH! MWAH! MWAH!"

She *really* loves her Christmas gift, Grandma, thank you!

{Nature Walk}

Recently on a walk by himself {well, with Eisley, I was home spray-painting birdcages in preparation for Paris Street Market} Justin discovered this little piece of heaven, right in our own backyard.

So he brought us all back the other day, for a lovely little nature walk. The trail starts just a couple blocks away, between two houses...With Eisley in her Chicco carrier, the little dogs on leashes, we headed off - over the bridge towards the trail.



Down the little trail we went...

Until the paving went away. It smelled like the mountains.
Jealous?
I was there too, Justin took a pic to prove it. I'm probably watching out for mountain lions here, which actually inhabit the very nearby Castlewood Canyon, so don't think I'm crazy.

{Some people have to really work at getting their kids to smile for pictures...
we don't have that problem.}I know I'm jealous of the people in those little houses that back up to this...
Nearby was a larger creek, which we couldn't see, but we could hear it. It made for quite the ambiance.
On our way back Eisley asked if she could walk one of the dogs. "Sure, what the heck?" we said.

Here, my friends, is one of the reasons my native state is called "Colorful Colorado." I snapped all these pictures myself on our little nature walk. We have the most lovely wildflowers here.
Whew! What a walk, good thing Daddy thought to bring water.
After exiting the trail, right onto the streets of our neighborhood, we headed home.

Cheers.

{My First Mother's Day}

Sunday was my very first Mother's Day. I've joined the ranks of the maternal women who get to celebrate the joys of being a mother on a special day of the year. But I have to say... it's felt more like Mother's Week to me.

The fun started last Wednesday, when I pulled into the driveway, home from a shopping trip with Eis. I spotted a package on my doorstep. When I saw the box said Amazon.com on the side, I have to admit my first thought was, "Uh oh... did I drink too much and order something on Amazon again? Justin is going to kill me..." But I couldn't remember any recent "Heather's-had-one-too-many's" {heheh..} so puzzled, I unloaded our groceries and Eisley and set out unwrapping the box.

What I found inside surprised and delighted me. Martha's Encyclopedia of Crafts! A book I've had my eye on for a few weeks now.

Upon reading the packing slip I saw, "Happy Mother's Day! Love, Mom"

Thanks Mom! I love it and there's SO many crafts I'm already itching to try...
especially the marbleizing craft. I can't wait to try this one...
That was my very first Mother's Day gift. Ever.

On Mother's Day, we went to early church and then Justin left us for work. Sad :-( but a short day for him. We ordered Chinese food for dinner. Yum!
Oh, and I can't forget to mention - we also *all* got a really precious Mother's Day gift: a new nephew named Noah! (Say that five times fast.)

Yes, little Noah was born on Mother's Day and is healthy and cute as a button and we can't wait to meet him!

Monday I worked hard ;-) piping one hundred forget-me-nots for cake class.

Today Eisley's cousin Moriah (the new big sister) came over for a haircut with Grandma Holly. Afterwards Justin took us ladies (Holly, myself, and Miss Eisley) out to the Augustine Grill which was really lovely.
On Saturday Bea and I had lunch at PF Changs where she gifted me with an Anthro giftcard {be still my heart}. So, today a trip to the mall was in order. Justin promised to let me pick out something at Anthro too as a Mother's Day gift from him and Eisley. Ooh! A giftcard and a husband's debit card...

What'd I choose?

Well, I've had my eye on this silverware for quite a while now. A 5-piece set is $24 {which actually didn't seem like much when we saw a blah design 5-piece set at Williams Sonoma for $90!} and this silverware has been on my mind so much lately, I've decided to start a collection. Eventually I hope to have 8-10 sets. So I'll get a few here and there when I have a little extra spending money. Next month is my birthday and I heard from a little birdie that during my birthday month Anthropologie will offer me a discount, so maybe I'll pick up a couple more sets soon!

They don't look that special from a distance but...
They're so beautifully etched!
I'm way too much of a sucker for unique pretty things. Sigh...

But everything else put aside, THIS is the REAL reason why my first Mother's Day was so special.

My pride & joy.

My cheerful.

My lovely.

My Eisley. What a wonderful first Mother's Day.

Happy {late} Mother's Day to Mom, Great Grandma Erwin, Great Granda Sander, Grandma Holly, Adrienne, and Bea! I love you guys!

{ Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes! }

{That's a reference to a David Bowie song ;-) }

Last June, in the last week of June, Justin came home early. He had lost his job. It was devastating to us both. Justin had {grown to} love{d} his job and I had just left for {permanent} maternity leave and was a few weeks from having a baby. It was unexpected and threw us for a loop. When it happened, I freaked out. But only for an hour or two. Then I did what I do in devastating situations, I sat down {specificaly, in the bath tub} and prayed.

I turned to the Bible, ashamed that I found myself {for the millionth time in my life} turning to God now that trouble had come again, instead of being close and turned toward Him in the first place. It's sorta like it dawned on me at one point that day, "Oh yeah, God is here! He can help us..."

I specifically remember reading {over and over and over} many verses that comforted me. These are a *few* of them, a few of my very favorites. I love them because they show what kind of God my God is. He is so loving.

Psalm 37:39
The salvation of the righteous comes from the LORD; he is their stronghold in time of trouble.
Psalm 46:1-2
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea.
Psalm 55:22
Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you;he will never let the righteous fall.
Nahum 1:7
The LORD is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him,
Matthew 6:19-34
I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labour or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendour was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" or "What shall we wear?" For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Philippians 4:6
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God

Those last two are particular favorites of mine. They pretty much erase any shred of worry in my heart everytime I read them.

But anyway, the point being, in our troubles, we grew closer to God. Our relationship with God deepened and became more real. {Perhaps this is sometimes why God permits things like this to happen to His children?} Guess what? About 9 months later I sit here looking back. We got through it. It's been rough, very rough at times. This economy is crashing around us, but we're still okay. There's a roof over our head still and food in our cupboards and gas in our cars. Even though back then I had no idea how we'd ever get through having a baby without jobs.

Today, Justin came home from work early.

Again.

This time it wasn't devastating. This time we were expecting it. Things had been going down hill with his job for a while now. From our point of view, there were some unrealistic expectations coming from his employer. It's a long story and there's lots of details I don't have time to indulge in. To give you a general idea, Justin wasn't willing to work 6 days a week without getting paid overtime - and several days a week were already 10-12 hour days. He worked 6 months there without seeing a dime of the commission he was supposed to get. We're semi-sure they've been trying to drive him away for a little while anyway, as their sales have dropped {not surprisingly since they refuse to spend a penny on advertising}. And they made it clear they felt like they were over paying my husband, which is almost offensive since they were paying him about half of what Justin said he needed to make when he first interviewed with this company {if they weren't willing, why'd they hire him?} Things along those lines...

Unlike the last time he lost his job, this time I'm really proud of him. I think this change is going to be good. And also unlike the last time he lost his job, this time we weren't so caught off guard. We've been seeing this one coming. So luckily, when Justin was officially "let go" earlier this morning he already had several resumes out there.

And tonite we're also thanking God. Justin's networking skills has already earned him an interview with a very reputable competitor of his previous employer. A rep for a product Justin loves selling and has been certified to sell and install at another previous job gave a wonderful recommendation to the owner of this business. About six hours after Justin got "let go", he had an interview scheduled for a job at a company he's had his eye on for a while now. Awesome.

Maybe he'll get the job, maybe he won't. But we're calm. We know things will work out. We know God is on our side and He promises to take care of us. With that knowledge that God is watching out for us {and proof, in my opinion, when I look back at how we got through this last time}, life can't get much better.

{ My Sickos }

Justin got sick last night, kept us up half the night with his coughing, and complained of achiness, fever, and chills. Then Eisley got a fever in the night. We controlled it with some baby Tylenol, but this morning when she woke it was high again - 102.6 under the arm.

So I called the doctor, who wanted to see her. Then I called Justin, I was afraid they had the flu (thanks to my internet research) and wanted him to come to the doctor with us to help diagnose Eisley and to see if he did indeed have the flu.

"I don't want to go to the doctor, honey!" Justin said.

"But I think you should! I think you have the flu and since you and Eisley probably have the same thing, it might help diagnose her." I argued. It took a couple more nagging calls and texts to get him to agree. He asked his boss to leave work and met me at the doctor's office.

First, Eisley was seen - not by our usual doctor but a partner of hers, and we've always liked him. Since Eisley was still eating and peeing well he wasn't too concerned after looking her over. He said his guess was some virus that was giving her a fever and fatigue.

"So you don't think it's the flu?" I asked.

"No, she doesn't seem sick enough to have the flu." And he offered to give us antibiotics in case of an ear infection but gave his opinion that it was probably just a little virus.

Next he agreed to look at Justin, who was still coughing up a storm. Again, I said I was worried he had the flu...

"Oh he doesn't have the flu. He'd be looking a lot worse if he had the flu." The doctor said.

Still, I wasn't convinced. See, I've always said, "Justin has the immune system of a god!" Because the guy never gets sick. And when he does, it hits everyone around him ten times worse.

After a quick look over Justin, the doc asked what the initial symptoms were. I told him that last night Justin complained about being sensitive to the touch. That did make the doctor agree to do a flu swab, and I'm so glad he agreed to because....

Justin tested positive for influenza A. Great.

"I knew it!" I said.

So, obviously, next he wanted to test Eisley.

Eisley tested positive for influenza A.

Then the doctor looked at me and asked how I was feeling.

"Fine, so far. But now I'm nervous..." I said. "I've never had the flu before and I don't want it."

And so now Justin and I are both on Tamiflu (at $5 a pill - sheesh!). For Justin, to help shorten the life of his influenza and make the symptoms less severe. For me, to help prevent it altogether or at least make it not hit me hard if I do already have it.

Unfortunately, Eisley is too small to take anything for it other than your everyday pain killers to lower her fever. We're going to have to watch her very closely to make sure she doesn't develop pneumonia, which can be very dangerous. Prayers are requested.

Thankfully, the doctor was impressed with how well the two of them are handling the flu and thinks Eisley should get over it just fine. I hope so.

As I write this Justin is in bed upstairs. Eisley is asleep in her pack 'n' play nearby me and I'm monitoring her closely. I'm starting to feel a bit achy, but who knows.

I've never had the flu before, but here my 6 month old and my husband now have it. Yay.

And we thought the cold we all had last week were un-fun.

Oh, and can I just take a quick second to boast about how awesome we females are for our killer intuitions?

This morning I cleaned out our closet and dresser. While I did that, Eisley was sleeping soundly in the bassinet nearby.

When I was nearly finished with the mess of clothes, I headed downstairs with trash bags and made myself a cup of coffee (darn you International Delights Creamer and darn you King Sooper's for having it on sale every week) and headed back upstairs.

Eisley was not still sleeping anymore but gazing around the room in silence, pacifier in her mouth.

She beckoned me to take a picture of her, and I gave in like I always do when she nags me to take her picture {not with words, mind you, but with her cuteness}. Then she told me to email it to daddy, which I did {see above}. I was baby-talking to her, she reached up and tried to pull my lips off with her baby claws. She did her double-eyebrow-raise, looking very much like Groucho Marx.

Then I burped. Loudly. Apparently I'd gulped down coffee too fast. I giggled and excused myself, but Eisley stared up at me with wide eyes, seeming uncertain about the strange noise I'd just made and not quite sure how to respond.

Then a smile slowly crept onto her face and -

"PPPPPPFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT!"

- from underneath the covers came.

She turned the tables on me. Now it was I who stared wide-eyed at her. She is, truly, her mother's daughter.

5 YEARS!

Happy Anniversary to Us!

Justin and I are celebrating our 5th anniversary today. I can't believe it's been 5 years since we married, and about eight and a half since we got together! I was thinking earlier today about how we've spent a third of our lives together already... crazy.

We got married very young - at just 19 years old. I've never regretted that decision.

My husband and I have always had so much fun together. I often wish we had our own camera crew that followed us around, because the best moments are when no one is around, we're both just being ourselves and enjoying each others company.

We're best friends. I tell Justin everything. He knows me better than anyone else in the world, and I'm pretty certain I know him just as well.

We've had our ups and downs in our relationship, but looking back I see more ups than downs. And in a society where the divorce rate is skyrocketing, I know we're lucky. 2008 was rough at times, and definitely was a year that tested our dedication to each other. But I know we're good together. We work. And so when we're in the middle of a down, I know an up is on it's way back around and that this time we're a little bit stronger, older, and wiser.


When Justin and I were in high school together, we didn't like each other for the first couple years. Justin thought I was annoying and silly (which I was). I thought he was a nerd (no comment). When Justin joined the theatre crowd, we slowly became friends.

After a few months, we were great friends. Soon, we started thinking romantically about each other. Suddenly, we were very much in love. I think our strong friendship that came before our romantic involvement has much attributed to our successful marriage.



We knew well before graduating high school that we were going to get married. At first we said we'd wait until we were 24 or so. Then we said maybe we'd wait until a few years into college. But it got harder and harder not to LIVE together, so we bumped up the date to January 3rd, 2004. (After the proposal, that is.)

Some people thought we were crazy. Some people were pretty dramatic about it. Some people told my mom she shouldn't "let us" and said, "Don't they know they have their whole lives ahead of them? They're so young!" My mom wasn't worried. She knew us...

Of course we knew we had our "whole lives" ahead of us! Who better to spend it with than with each other?

No marriage is perfect, and I won't pretend we don't have our challenges. We have our fights, our disagreements, character flaws, and our selfish moments - of course we do. We have moments where we drive each other crazy, yep! But I love Justin and I have a lot of fun with him. I couldn't ask for a better father to my daughter. And we balance each other.

And you never stop growing, either. You never stop learning about each other. These days when I hear about people getting engaged after only a few months of dating I worry a bit for them. Because nearly everyday I learn something new about us, and we started dating over 8 years ago.

When I was little my mom used to tell me often, "I pray all the time for your future husband... and that he's blessed and a good person...." I used to roll my eyes and blow that off.

But looking back, I know God heard my moms prayers. And He granted them.
Here's to five years. Here's to many, many more.

Kittens!

Yeah, so, *that* was kinda psychotic...

To make a long story short, my cat Sugar (named after the prostitute in the book The Crimson Petal and the White - as suggested by my sister) , has been expecting kittens and we've been watching her get bigger and bigger and we've known the day has been coming...

Well, I knew she was about to give birth - she's been showing the signs - but it was still a surprise to me this afternoon when I came upstairs and looked under my bed to find Sugar in labor, 3 kittens already born. One was stillborn, sad :(

One was just fine and nursing happily.

But the third, was still attached to the cord, which was still attached to the placenta that was still IN Sugar.

NOT good.

I called the vet, she needed to go in. Holly (Justin's mom) came to help me, thank goodness, because Eisley was fussy and Justin was working a long day and I was a bit frazzled.

$80 later, they got the placenta out. The vet told me that at least one more kitten was still on it's way...

It was born on my lap in the car. Niiice.

Oh well, all is well now! And we have 3 adorable kittens!
See for yourself:

A Random Act of Kindness

I have to share this little story real quick, before I get to the pictures...

This morning I was on my way to Angela's house - it was time for us to "do" each others' hair again so I go to her home salon where we cut and color each other and enjoy good conversations. On the way, I stopped at Starbucks Drive Thru in Castle Pines to pick up drinks for the both of us, my treat.

As I waited in the drive thru line with my window down, I noticed the lady in front of me watching me in her side view mirror. I was wondering why she was staring at me (at least I thought she was, she had dark sun glasses on), but I averted my eyes. When it was my turn to pay I pulled up to the window and thrust my card toward the employee that greeted me. But instead of taking my card she said, "Actually the lady in front of you paid for your drinks."

I gasped, "She did?!" I was shocked at the kindness and couldn't understand why someone would do something so nice. But the employee explained further, "She said you looked familiar. She said you look like the girl who used to cut her kids hair."

"Oh. Well yeah I used to cut kids hair." I explained to the employee.

As I drove off I was so happy. Not because I got free Starbucks - although that's a plus - it's just someone had done something so nice for me. It made me want to make someone else feel that good. Pass on the good favor, ya know?

So I think next time I'm in the Starbucks Drive Thru, I might just pay for the person behind me too. Sure we don't have lots of extra money right now, but an extra $3 or $4 to put a smile and the same good feeling in someone elses day - it's totally worth it. Especially with all the depression in society regarding the economy. I'm guilty of - and I know I'm not alone - always having a "Yeah, but what's in it for me?" attitude.

Let's not forget these random acts of kindness! That "stranger" (I only say that because although she knew me, I still can't figure out which of my clients it was...) put a smile on my face for hours. In a way, I'm kinda jealous. And humbled. And selfish. I want to do that for someone else now.

Moving on, Eisley had her 2 month appointment today! She's 9 lbs and 4 ounces, and has grow 2 inches since birth, making her 21.5 inches now. Here she is a few days ago as we were leaving for a walk:


She loves to be bundled up and sleep on her Boppy:


And, like most babies, she loves Daddy to hold her like a football:

My firstborn niece, Ayla, is turning 4 years old on Wednesday! We celebrating with my family on Saturday at our house. Ayla wanted a pink spider cake:



HAPPY BIRTHDAY AYLA! I can't believe it's been 4 years since I saw the miracle of your birth :)

Soon to come: pictures of my new "MOM HAIRCUT"