OMH

What do I think of my first two months as a mother of three? In honor of my Utah friends, I share this phrase: Oh My Heck!

I would like to report that I am generally on top of things and that I shower before 2pm every day, but I can't. I am so sleep-deprived that I hallucinate extra family members at times. Shawn calls these companions my "shadow people." I am at a loss for words, not eloquent words, just words like "table" and "carpet." It turns out that sleep is necessary to maintain a vocabulary and the ability to drive. My kids are getting used to phrases like, "You'll have to do that yourself", "You're going to have to wait for that", and "I can't hear you when the baby is screaming in my ear." I am getting used to the two rolls of fat that refuse to leave my abdomen. Do you think the half-bag of pita chips I just consumed has anything to do with that?

Motherhood is a marathan. Dinner and flowers are great, but here is what you should do for a mother who is still raising her children: grab her gently by the shoulders and give her a little shake. Look her in the eyes and tell her that she is smarter than her children and that she can do it! Give her a pat on the butt and send her back into the trenches with a fistful of chocolate.

Christian is my little slice of heaven. Shawn gave him a blessing yesterday at church, which was so beautiful. I am so thankful for a kind, dutiful husband that holds the Priesthood. I have had to fight and beg for each one of my children and they have all been worth it.

So, where's my chocolate?

Christian's birth

I started having mild contractions while watching Lost on Tuesday night. Shawn got home late from work and we both agreed that we hoped the contractions would go away, as we were too tired to have a baby that night. As we snuggled into bed and exchanged goodnights at 11pm, I felt a pop and my water spilled out onto the bed. Suddenly, we were wide awake!

I had been examined the day before and was already dilated to almost 4cm, so I was a complete 4 when we got to the hospital. It was surreal to lie there and know what was going to happen in what I thought would be a few hours. I labored for a few hours through painful contractions, but decided early on that an epidural was the way to go. The doc seemed to have a handle on the procedure and it went well. I could feel the contraction pressure, but no pain, and I had almost full use of my legs. As the night wore on, our very young and chipper nurse hung out in the room for what seemed like long periods chatting and typing into the computer. She was very sweet, but I wanted to be alone.

By 6:30am, I was dilated to 9cm, but the baby was still very high and refusing to come down. The nurse and I were hoping to get him out by the end of her shift at 7am. Didn't happen. 5 hours later, I was still at 9cm, but the baby's position had not changed. Shawn said that he was like a bat clinging to the inside of my uterus. I was given pitocin to regulate my contractions, which it did. My epidural was proving to be not quite strong enough to ward off the pain, and I started feeling the contractions. This frightened me. Another doc came in and gave me a dose of something to take away the pain. It did, but I was exhausted and emotional by this point. Our nurse was terrifc and understanding. At about 1pm, she had me start pushing and called the doc to tell him what was going on.

As she and Shawn were flanking my sides and pushing my legs back, I pushed with all my might. I could feel progress, but honestly was feeling like I would rather die than ever do this again. I told Shawn as much.

Just when I thought I could not muster any more energy for pushing, I felt a lot of progress and the nurse jumped up from the bed, half-yelling, "Stop pushing! Stop pushing! Just breathe!" She was crossing the room to call for the doc and backup. I cannot describe the amount of effort it took to stop the pushing and breathe. I was so afraid that I wasn't going to be able to comply, that I started sobbing and saying, "I can't. I can't." If you know me, you know I don't display emotion like that. The nurse hurried back to me while she was waiting for help. As the baby was coming out, she was muttering that the cord was wrapped around him. I could hear fear in her voice, which caused me to panic and sob some more. I heard the doc enter the room and very calmly, he pulled the baby out. I am told the cord was wrapped around his body in a figure 8 and then around his neck. I opened my eyes to see the room full of people and heard someone say "NICU", which made me continue to sob and say, "Is he ok?" "What's wrong?" over and over again. The baby was put on my chest, but all I could see was his purple head. He was wisked over to a respiratory therapist and we waited in agony until we heard his first little peeps. His first APGAR score was a 3 and his second was a 7.

We've had some feeding issues (he's been slow to it) and we've supplemented with a little formula, but he appears to be getting on track. We came home today and I am so sad that this precious little bundle is going to grow up. He's sleeping in his daddy's arms right now and he has no idea what a blessed little boy he is.

Six years gone by so fast...

Now is not the time to start lamenting weight gain. There are no particular cravings. It's just a long list of favorite, ritualistic snacks: Honey Nut Cheerios, an English muffin with butter and honey, an orange, another orange? You get the picture. The snack list keeps growing and so do I. Let's hope the baby is using some of this nourishment and growing himself, because it will be embarrassing to pop out another tiny baby underneath all this girth.

This year has gotten off to a stressful start. Shawn's father and stepmother were involved in a serious car accident at the beginning of January. They are recovering, but it's going slowly and his father remains hospitalized. We have been doing our best to keep up with their bills and insurance claim needs, which is at least a part-time job. Selfishly, I have felt sad for the loss of Shawn's attention. He does his best and we have marvelous moments, but the guy can only be one place at a time. I am just hoping that at least some of this calms down before the baby is born, or I might have to go psycho-newborn-mom on someone.

Anna turned 6 the other day. I can't believe all that's happened in the years since her birth: two home purchases, a move to Oregon, adopting Leon, and those are just the extreme bullet points. It fills my heart with fear and a thrill to sit here and wonder what the next six years might entail. I do know this: kids are really unpredictable. I secretly pride myself on what a tight ship I run and that I KNOW how to keep my kids in line. My heart beats a little faster at the thought that the baby I carry might not fit so neatly into my well-disciplined package. Don't misunderstand. My kids are marvelous in public and worthy of execution at home. When you see us, we might appear to have all our ducks in a row. Please, baby, don't shatter the illusion. It's all I've got.

One last thing: PRAYER! I cling to it. It gives me hope when I feel the bleakest. Anna asked me the other day if Oprah was a real person. I said yes. She then asked if God loved Oprah. I said yes. She muttered, "Weird" under her breath and walked away. What a comfort to be able to tell my children that we do not have the answers to everything, but that we CAN pray about everything from the bully at school to the orphans in Haiti. I am so grateful to be a follower of Jesus Christ.

I said in a previous post that the baby's name would not be widely revealed until he was born. That was a lie. I've been telling it all over town. In case you haven't heard, it's Christian...spelled the Jesus way.

lessons learned

Leon has been learning a lot lately. Just the other day, he explained to me the mechanics behind a "french kiss." This had been carefully illustrated by a fellow classmate. Today, he flipped me the bird from the back seat and told me that his friend told him that it meant "a bad word." Well, yes, my son, it does. After reminiscing with a friend about all the colorful lessons we learned in elementary school, I could only cringe and brace myself for what's ahead.

There are useful lessons, too. Leon witnessed a mother goat giving birth while on a field trip. He later told me that she had "pooped" them out. It was a good time for us to have a frank discussion about female anatomy. After all, it will be relevant around here in the near future. Anna came home from ballet class today wanting to teach all the terms she had learned and how to do a proper plie. If you have never experienced parental bliss, put your daughter in dance lessons and enjoy!

No pressure, kid...

Meet the new love of my life: Baby boy Croskey! We know his name, but aren't ready to make it widely known. It took me about a day to get completely used to the idea of having another boy around the house. I knew he was a boy from early on in my pregnancy. (I knew Anna was a boy also - good track record). This time I was right! My initial thoughts were gratitude that he was healthy, what I was going to do with my attic full of baby clothes, and that Anna would be dissapointed about not getting a sister. She took it in stride. A direct quote: "I don't care if it's a boy or a girl, as long as it's healthy, and it's a baby." As I looked at his picture and shopped online for his car seat, my heart melted and I fell in love.

Maternal love is so hard to explain. It's like trying to explain the ocean to someone whose never seen it. I am so grateful for it, because I don't know how these munchkins would make it out alive without it.

So, the dreams and fantasies begin. Someone has to play the drums in Anna's piano band. We need a basketball player. Most importantly, we need comic relief when Mom is stressed about the big kids' homework. We need someone to cuddle who will never say, "I need my space right now." And, we need someone to listen to Anna's rambling lessons about music conducting and the proper way to draw a triangle. You got all that? You're gonna have a great life. No pressure, kid. We love you already! (But, I love you the most).

"I am in love with myself!"

Anna admired my flat-ironed hair and begged me to do hers. She has the most adorable, soft curls framing her face. But, I too know the desire for change, so I complied. I could not get her away from the mirror for about 20 minutes afterward. I asked, "Are you just in love with yourself now?" Her reply came quickly: "Yeah mama - I am in love with myself!"

Develop over-inflated ego in daughter...check!

photo taken at 16 weeks pregnant

After several attempts and outfit changes, I had Shawn take the first official photographic record of my pregnancy. This is at 16 weeks. When I was 20 weeks pregnant with Anna, people would say, "You're halfway there and I can't even tell you're pregnant!"

Not the case this time.