The rest of October

These are the pictures from my phone for October, all jumbled together in one post so we don't lose them. Some of them are repeats for my Facebook friends, so sorry about that.

This is at Jeff's mom's house. Kyla came back inside without a diaper on and was sent back out to retrieve it. She was happy enough to stop and pose for a photo with the offending diaper.

From Allie's computer class that she attends on Mondays and Wednesdays. She loves the headphones with the microphone headset, and pretends to talk in it pilot-style, but it serves no purpose.

As a side note, I love this computer class. It's free, sponsored by Waterford Learning Center and is a study of 4 and 5 year olds. The games she plays are on her level and she does 20 minutes of reading and 20 minutes of math every time we're there. There is also an activity room with puzzles, games, books, etc. that Kyla loves, so it's basically a two for one, and it's all free! If you are in the Provo area and are interested (for next year maybe), let me know and I'll give you some more info.

Allie arranged her Barbies like this. On purpose? We'll never know.

I took Damon on a "Night Out" to see a play of Tom Sawyer at the library, and followed it up with a trip to Hello Yogurt. Damon's yogurt was strawberry topped with gummy worms, Skittles, sprinkles, raspberries, strawberry sauce and a few other things I am forgetting. He thought it was a great night.

Kyla got her hands on some chocolate covered fruit at Costco as we were about to check out one day. The guy helping at the checkout said, "You must like chocolate!" I turned around to see her like this. Yes, she loved it!


Jeff's birthday pie, Lemon Meringue, made by his mom. Jeff was in Arizona right before his birthday (and we were in Moab), so this was the only party he got. He wasn't disappointed. Happy 33rd, old man!

Kyla found some soap or shampoo and thought it would be a good idea to wash her own hair, sans water.

Another one from her night in the hospital.

And Kyla applies mascara, and is pleased with herself.

Phew, I think October is covered. On to November!

Swim Lessons

Allie missed out on being able to take swim lessons this summer because she was otherwise engaged at BYU (she was doing BYU's preschool). Damon took lessons and really seemed to improve a lot, but I felt bad that Allie didn't have the opportunity (and had never had the opportunity). So, when it came time to sign the kids up for a "fall sport," I had very little hesitation in choosing indoor swim lessons for both of them. I knew Allie was going to love it, because she can basically swim already, she just lacks the confidence to go all the way across the pool. I was very pleased with my decision when I learned that Allie was in a class with just one other girl and Damon had just three others in his class. One of the definite perks to taking swim lessons in the fall. I knew Allie would love the individual attention and the opportunity to shine in the pool.

And she did love it. For the first three lessons. By the end of the third lesson, she was shivering from the cold and instantly decided that she was not going to love it anymore. This was also the day she started running a fever, which we later realized was H1N1 flu, so she had good reason to be cold that day. We let her sit out of the next lesson (3 days later), but by Wednesday, she was fever free and I thought she would be able to get back into it. But I was wrong.

For any of you who know Allie (or have read even one post about her on my blog), you know that if she sets her mind against something, she will not be convinced otherwise. This was one of those experiences that I dread. She cried the entire time she was in the pool, claiming she was freezing. She refused to participate at all, but instead insisted on staying by the light to keep herself warm. I tried not to get frustrated, telling myself that she was still recovering from the flu and would be better the next time. I even took her to buy a swim cap so she wouldn't have to get her hair wet. But it didn't help. The next lesson was even worse. She cried so loudly that I could hear her through the glass of the viewing room where we watched the kids. And, again, she refused to even put her face in the water to blow bubbles.

This time, I was not so patient. I knew that by now it had become a mental game with her, and that she really had no excuse for acting the way she was acting. I walked down to the edge of the pool and gently told her that I was not going to save her, and that she was going to have to finish swim lessons. Her choices were to enjoy it or make it miserable, but she wasn't getting out of the pool. She finished, but she cried the whole time. I left feeling so discouraged. Mostly for her, because she was missing out on the opportunity to learn to swim because of something that was completely in her head.

We spent the whole weekend talking about it, and trying to convince her that the only way to warm up in the water was to actually move her body, and that I hoped she would change her attitude big time before swim lessons were over. Monday came and I held my breath. Which Allie would emerge from the locker room?

Luckily for all of us, it was pleasant Allie again, the one who loved her first three classes. She participated and really enjoyed herself. And I heaved a sigh of relief. I wish I knew the secret to helping her change her attitude. It would make both of our lives so much easier.

Here is proof that she particpated. She is the one floating in a ball underwater. The other little girl in her class, who is 6, must really have a fear of water, because she was nowhere near actually learning to swim. But her attitude was great.

And Allie posing when she saw me taking pictures. By this time, she didn't even need her swim cap anymore. I wish I had pictures from the day she wore it.


Damon, on the other hand, did fantastic at his lessons and is getting so much better at all the different strokes. I want him to do swim team this summer so he can really improve. Swimming is a skill I wish I possessed, as it is something you can enjoy for the rest of your life. I think someone needs to tell Damon that if he wants lats like Michael Phelps, he's going to have to work really hard.

And here's the other observer. She desperately wanted to get into the pool every time. I thought about trying to substitute her for Allie when things looked sketchy, because I know she would have loved it. I'm not sure why she had her shirt off, but it's probably safe to say she thought she had a better shot of getting in the pool if she undressed.

Glory, Glory Halloween

Fortunately for all of us, everyone had regained their health by Halloween night (side note: on Sunday, we were listening to Battle Hymn of the Republic, which I called "Glory Glory Hallelujah." Kyla asked for clarification, "Glory Glory Halloween?" Hence the title of this post).

Here are the yearly pics.

I bought the fireman's jacket at a thrift store in Ohio about 5 years ago. The hat and sweats came from Savers for about $5 total. Kyla's costume was the one Allie wore 2 years ago, and I got her tights for $5. Allie's costume was brand new at a liquidation store for $8. So, all spent this year--$18. I was happy with it, and the kids seemed fine, too.

After the event

And more proof that it was a successful Halloween.

We were putting the kids to bed and listening to The Bare Necessities on their cd player. We were dancing around (attempting to extract as much energy as possible, to be honest) and Damon said, "this is the best day ever!"

The candy fun was short lived. Yesterday, we took all the rest of the candy to Dr. Swensen's office (a local dentist) to be donated to the soldiers overseas. The kids got raffle tickets for their candy (we had 6 pounds) and got to enter for prizes. They didn't seem too heartbroken.

H1N1

Two weeks ago today, we stood in line for the H1N1 vaccine at the health department. It was the third day the shot was being administered, and decided we should all get it, especially since we will be bringing a little one home in a few months, and want to protect him from all the nastiness. It was a long line, and we waited rather impatiently for two hours in a drizzle before we made it inside. I was the only one who got the shot, everyone else got the mist (which is a weakened version of the live virus, the shot is not live). We didn't get a choice. Still, we felt we were doing the best thing for our family and proceeded.

The next morning, Damon had a slight fever and kept telling me he felt "drowsy." I let him stay home from school, but by afternoon, he was feeling fine, and went for the rest of the day. The girls and Jeff had no reaction at all, and I felt like we were getting off easy.

By Friday night, Allie had developed a fever of about 101 and was extremely tired. I wondered if she was having a delayed reaction to the mist or if she was just coming down with something else, but didn't worry too much about it. For the next few days, she battled a fever of about 101-102, a sore throat, and extreme lethargy. She didn't complain much, just laid around sleeping, not eating much, and generally just sick. I wondered if she had actually contracted H1N1 from the mist, but since the mist takes about 2 weeks to really produce full benefits, also wondered if she had picked up the actual flu before getting immunized. Again, it didn't really matter, she was starting to get better.

Monday afternoon, Kyla started getting a fever. Allie was about 50% better, eating and drinking more, but still tired in the afternoon and running a slight fever. Kyla skipped lunch and took a three hour nap instead. Unusual, for sure. I gave them both a dose of Tylenol before we went to meet Jeff's family at the pumpkin patch that night. All seemed fine.

We came home, put the kids to bed, and when I went in to check on them a few hours later, Kyla was breathing very rapidly and very heavily. Out of my three kids, she has suffered the most from any type of cold, and seems to have airway issues. I have a nebulizer and albuterol, as I am no stranger to giving her breathing treatments when she is sick. She was also hot, around 102, and woke up crying not long after. She and I stayed up watching So You Think You Can Dance and Gossip Girl until around 1:30, and then I put her in bed with me. She wasn't crying a lot, but trying to cough obviously hurt her and she sounded croupy.

Needless to say, we all had a terrible night in my bed, and I called Jeff's sister (an ER nurse) the next morning to ask what I should do for her. I gave her a breathing treatment and some motrin and Tylenol and she seemed to feel a little better. Well, her breathing never got any better, but she seemed less miserable for a few hours. But during the day, she just seemed to get worse and worse. She was increasingly restless, wouldn't eat or drink, and was not keeping her temperature down, even medicated.

I took her to the doctor at 3:30 and he felt pretty sure she had h1N1 and was concerned about her breathing. She was starting to retract on one side (showing her ribs when she breathed in) and he was concerned with how quickly she had deteriorated and said no one should have to work that hard to breathe. His solution was to admit her to the hospital overnight so we could get on top of her breathing problems before they got any worse. I was a little surprised, but of course wanted to do what was best for her. So, I called Jeff to tell him the news, and headed to the hospital.

They got her admitted, started an IV, performed an invasive virus scan by sucking junk out of her nose to find out which virus we were dealing with, and started her on breathing treatments of epinephrine. My friend, Tiffanie, was in town from SLC as we had plans to go see Little Shop of Horrors that night, and she brought dinner to my family. Jeff called and told me that he had arranged for a babysitter for the other kids and was coming to the hospital so I could go to the play with Tiffanie. As a side note, the play was awesome and a decent distraction from what was going on at the hospital.

When I got back, around 10:30, she was feeling a little better, but not a whole lot.

They gave her a second breathing treatment, and her breathing started improving, and she finally fell asleep. Every few hours, the nurses had to come check her vitals, give her a breathing treatment and sometimes some medication. She was started on Tamiflu (in case it was H1N1) and Decadron (a steroid to help avoid any worsening of the croup). She didn't sleep all that well (and neither did I, to be honest), but it was clear that she was getting better. I spent most of the night up in the bed with her, as she was severely traumatized from everything that had happened.


By the next morning, she was so much better. Her fever was finally under control and her breathing sounded so much better. I knew she was on her way to recovery when her breakfast came, and she said, "Yum yum yum, delicioso!"


We had to work pretty hard to get her eating and drinking again so she could be discharged, and she fell in love with chocolate milk, which is pretty much all she had all day Wednesday. They let us go home, though, and we were so grateful. Everyone was really great to her in the hospital, but it's always nice to be home.

By then, I was exhausted. The lack of sleep coupled with the stress was catching up with me, and the last thing I needed was two very whiney girls at home. Allie wasn't running a fever anymore, but it was clear that she wasn't back to her normal self. Both girls were incredibly needy all day (and Thursday too, to be honest) and I felt like I was going to lose my mind at times. When Kyla's results came in, we found that she did, in fact, have H1N1 and needed to stay on Tamiflu for four more days. It only makes sense that that is what Allie had been suffering from as well, and we were probably just too late getting them the mist for it to do any good.

I sent Allie back to preschool on Thursday, and she seems fine. I hope she isn't contagious anymore, but she hasn't had a fever for days, so I think we're fine. I think her body still needs to recover. I had to have my blood drawn for my glucose test, and dragged Kyla in all her sickness to the doctor's office. I only needed to be there 10 minutes, and I promised her if she would wear a mask, she could have a sucker. She did, and we made it out of there. I would say she was about 50% better on Thursday, still a very sad little girl, but the Tamiflu really seemed to shorten her symptoms compared with Allie.

Friday I was in charge of Damon's Halloween party at school and although it wasn't a huge ordeal, it was weighing heavy on my mind of just one more thing I had to do. Jeff was home and stayed with Kyla, and Allie came with me to help out, and I can't even describe how relieved I felt once that was over. I slept from 8:30-7:30 that night and still took a nap on Saturday. I was completely wiped out.

I couldn't be more grateful to have October behind us. I am so grateful to those who helped us out (I have the best neighbor next door, and Jeff's sister and my aunt also helped us out with kids and food), and am so grateful we are all returning to health. It sure was a trying week for me, although I know that there are so many who are suffering with so much more. I just hope that is the end of our run-in with H1N1, and am so glad the rest of us were spared (maybe my vaccine and Jeff and Damon's mist really helped after all).

Moab

For UEA, the Trapnell family (everyone but Russ/Julie and Brian/Susan) took a trip to Moab. Jeff had already planned to be out of town that weekend (reliving the glory days with his 259 buddies), so he wasn't going to be able to make it. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of going by myself with the kids, but when my friend, April, who lives in Colorado, said she would drive over with her three kids and meet us, the trip was instantly appealing to me.

We have been friends with the Ferguson's for a long time. Jeff and Dave were in dental school together in Ohio, so we met shortly after our first babies were born. After four years of friendship, we both ended up in Jacksonville, living around the corner from each other. Two years later, when Jeff finished ortho and we moved away, saying good-bye to April was the hardest good-bye of all. We were so sad that our kids weren't going to be able to grow up together anymore, but I was especially sad to lose the closeness we had taken for granted for six years.

So, a year later, when the Ferguson's moved to Colorado (with Dave working part of the time in Kansas City, MO, leaving April home alone a lot), we knew we had to get together. The trip to Moab was the perfect excuse, and April willingly made the 6 hour drive with her three boys to be there with us. And I am so glad she did.

We had the BEST time, and it didn't take the kids long to reconnect. Even the craziness of being outnumbered 3 to 1 wasn't enough to dampen our spirits at all. The days went way too fast, and now we are missing the Ferguson's even more!

The six kids (Ethan, Allie, Kyla, Mason, Damon and Isaac) at Arches. Too bad we forced them to look into the sun.

April and me (with Mason on her shoulders).

Mason and Kyla. These two got along very well for not knowing each other. Maybe a future match? Allie has her choice of Isaac or Ethan.

A Jacksonville reunion with Greg and Noel's family. Because two of Jeff's brothers were going to JU, April knows the whole family, and is practically family, too.

The kids taking a quick shower after a night of swimming at the "mo-tail."

Sad to say, there was a little of this. Allie had to hike more than she liked.

Kyla enjoying the sand dunes.

Damon's climbing skills

Cute one of Allie, Kyla and Ethan (with cousin Aubrie looking on)

And proof that I was there, too. Please no commens about my tree trunk legs.

Let's do it again!

Picture/Update Overload

I hired Jeff to take pictures of the kids this year. I opted out of school pictures, and put all my faith in my husband, who in no way claims to be a "child photographer." I even got my sister, Tara, to bring her kids along for the fun. We were both really happy with the way the pictures turned out. These are some of my favorite shots of the kids.


Tara's idea to take one of them together from behind. Damon is a little stiff, but still cute.

The best of the three of them together. Kyla looks like she is just about to answer the call, "Will the real Slim Shady please stand up."

Love this one.

Sort of what I had in mind when I went searching all over for the lollipops. At least Damon's expression is what I was going for. Tara's kids got some great lollipop shots, so it was worth it.

DAMON:
At seven years old, Damon is in some ways the boy he has always been. He has the most tender heart, and has to remind himself that movies aren't real and will end happy. He is really into the Magic Treehouse books right now, and will read one in about 40 minutes. He thrives on having a schedule and sticking to it. He needs to know what we're going to do and what, exactly, to expect from any situation he is going to be in.

He is still a major collector, and I am constantly trying to talk him out of bringing things home. He is also the only reason I need to check pockets when doing laundry. He is notorious for stuffing things in his pants that he might need later, and then forgetting all about them. I had to spend the afternoon scraping an entire package of gum off the inside of the dryer when I forgot to check his pockets. He is super competitive and really wants to be the best at everything. He worked really hard at soccer this year, never wanting to come off the field. He may not have the most talent, but he has the determination to succeed at whatever it is he chooses to do.


His favorite color is yellow, which I think says a lot about him. He is a very happy kid (as long as he knows what to expect) and loves life. He loves hiking, fishing, riding his bike, leading the neighborhood kids in all kinds of activities, and anything we do together as a family. He really is so much fun to be around and has absolutely the best laugh I have ever heard.

ALLIE:
At four years old, Allie is starting to outgrow SOME of the drama she loved so much as a two and three year old. She is exceptional at entertaining herself, which is really nice for me in the afternoons when Kyla is still napping. She loves anything girlie, and we often remark that she was born into the wrong family for that. She reluctantly accompanies us on all sorts of adventures, but is becoming less lazy all the time. She still is a master manipulator, although Kyla seems to be catching on, and won't do nearly as much as she used to do for Allie.

She is working hard learning to read and write and I can see that it has finally clicked in her head. She is always wanting to cut and write and asking how to spell words, and I am so glad she has decided to be literate. She can still throw a fit with the best of them, but overall, she is a much happier girl than she was even a year ago. She likes to have things her way, but is learning to be more flexible and easy going.

KYLA:

At two years old, this little girl is one of my absolute favorite people. She is super happy and loves life. She is extremely well coordinated and has no problem riding a tricycle or a scooter. She is also very adventurous and happily goes along with anything we have going. She is, however, two and acts like it. She wants to do things for herself and her independence gets her into trouble all the time. But usually, she is instantly remorseful and timeouts work very well with her.

She still loves taking naps, but doesn't love bedtime, and is usually the first one up in the morning. She loves songs, books, games, puzzles and anything she can participate in.

I love being a mom to three very different kids, and I learn so much from each one of them. I can't wait to see what Baby Boy brings to our family dynamic, and hope he is as much fun as the other three.

Just KyKy and Me

A couple of weeks ago, Jeff took Allie fishing on a Friday when Damon was in school. I drove up to Gardner Village and met up with some friends (an Ohio reunion of sorts) with Kyla. She and I had so much fun together. She was in an extremely happy mood and wanted to pose with all the witches (and I mean ALL the witches). Here is my favorite shot.

And you can see how happy and smiley she was.

Here are the two of us. Don't mind my shirt trying to crawl up over my belly.

And one more of Kyla by herself.

I must say, Kyla is such a different little person than Allie is, even at two years old. Kyla is much more in control of her emotions and can easily go from being sad to being happy. She is so excited about everything in life (I took her grocery shopping, and everything I told her we needed to get, she cheered for. "Yay! Bananas! Yay! Bok Choy!"). She is always telling me, "That was too fun."

She loves animals, "chaskip (chapstick)," lotion and babies. She still loves taking an afternoon nap (she still has that binky) and is finally getting the hang of letters (she probably knows 15-20 of them). I found her in her room one afternoon after nap playing Ring around the Rosie with three Barbies. She loves to sing, and is crazy about just about any R&B song that comes on the radio (and insists I go back if I change the station). She loves music and is always saying, "Turn it up, please" in the car. Some of her favorite songs right now are Battlefield, I Gotta Feeling and Party in the USA.

She still loves to eat, but her appetite is not anything like it used to be. She is getting picky, but can (and will) eat anything if she is in the mood for dessert. She loves Allie with all her heart and wants to be just like her. Allie got some new undies and passed her old ones down to Kyla. Kyla, who is not potty training and will not be for some time, took her diaper off, put the undies on, and walked around for some time before she was discovered. She will poop and pee on the toilet whenever she is naked, and all she wants in return is a rock in the jar (we are trying to fill a jar with rocks for a family treat).

I still cannot get enough of this girl. I am so lucky to be her mom.

Magnetic Bathroom Principle

Remember way back when we talked about The Magnet Principle? Where I talked about how my kids and I must be equipped with some sort of magnetic device, because they are always following me around and having to touch me? I am beginning to put more of it together, and understanding it a little better.

It goes back to when I was a kid, and the times I desperately needed something from my mom. This was usually when I found her one of three places.

1. Kneeling by the side of her bed, praying (let's face it, she is a spiritual woman who spends a LOT of time praying).
2. On the telephone
3. Sitting on the toilet

When she was praying, there was no other option but to wait. When she was on the phone, we soon learned that we could write a note with our pressing questions, hand her a pencil, and get a quick answer to whatever it was we needed (for example: Mom, can I go play in the park? Yes or No, to which she would circle which ever option was most likely to get rid of us). And when she was sitting on the toilet, we could easily communicate with her through the door.

Now, I don't spend as much time praying or chatting on the phone as my mom did, but my kids have their magnetic beacons set to "FIND MOM" every time I try to slip away to the bathroom. I can barely close the door before someone is opening it, demanding my attention. The kids could be playing nicely or engrossed in a movie, but if they hear the bathroom door close, they suddenly need to be there, too. Usually, they have some immediate problem that needs solving, and only a face-to-face with mom will do. I have to answer questions like, "Can I have a snack?," "Where are my shoes?," and, if it's Kyla doing the asking, "Are you going poop?"

You'd think I'd take a hint and lock the door behind me, and believe me, I do. But I am still answering the same questions from the same children, only now they are irritated that they can't get in, and ask their questions in a whiney voice, while banging relentlessly on the door. I'm not sure that's much better.

One night a week or two ago, Jeff took all three kids on an errand so I could get dinner cleaned up. I took my sweet time, enjoying the peace and quiet I so rarely experience during the daylight hours, and then made my way upstairs to my bathroom with my phone (so I could check in on Facebook, of course). I'm not kidding you, within minutes, all three kids had returned home, looked all over for me, and joined me in there. I couldn't believe it, but at the same time, I wasn't the least bit surprised.

I wish I could say I don't understand what is so compelling about visiting with mom while she is sitting on the toilet. But then I think back to when I was a kid, and the many, many times I interrupted my own mother (who didn't have the luxury of taking Facebook to the bathroom with her), and I grudgingly admit that at one time, my own magnetic beacon sent me to the bathroom too. Only I'm sure the needs I had were much more pressing. Like, "Where is the cinnamon sugar for my toast?"

Squaw Peak

For the past few years, Jeff has taken an interest in photography and has dragged us around with him numerous times so he can take pictures. Mostly it is just a minor inconvenience, as we end up spending time waiting for him in the car when the kids have had enough scenery. Every now and then, though, it becomes much more than we bargained for.

Last night, Jeff really wanted to drive up to Squaw Peak and take pictures of the fall leaves with snow covered Timp in the background. Since it was family night, we all decided to tag along. In an effort to get there before the light was lost, we inhaled our dinner, grabbed coats, and headed out the door. I was completely unaware what we were going to actually be doing once we got there, but figured we would probably be alright since we had the kids heavy coats.

Allie fell asleep on the drive, which should have been the first warning sign that she was not going to have a fun time while we were there (she is hard to wake up and usually very upset when we get her awake). But, after parking on the side of the dirt road, we managed to coax her out of the car without too much complaint. Jeff carried Kyla (who was only wearing sandals) and took Damon ahead to scout out the perfect picture location while I encouraged Allie to walk on her own behind them. A little ways up the road, I realized this was going to be difficult. The road was extremely muddy from all the rain on Sunday, and Allie was wearing slip on shoes two sizes too big with no socks. She started to complain that her feet were getting stuck, and I noticed the mud was more like clay, and nearly impossible to rub off.

By this time, we had entirely lost sight of Jeff, Damon and Kyla, but followed the path they had taken, hoping we would catch up soon. We couldn't find them soon enough. Allie's sticky shoes kept coming off, and multiple times she stepped off into the mud. Her positive attitude had completely vanished and she was now crying, feet cold and muddy, with no end in sight. I tried to scrape the mud off, and was somewhat successful, and we managed to find the rest of the family ahead. I told them I didn't think we were going to make it, as the road was getting muddier the higher we climbed, but Jeff told us to just come to the top, because it was a beautiful view and he wanted to take our picture.

Somehow, we made it, but Allie completely lost it. Her shoes were now covered with mud, both inside and out, and her freezing feet were also muddy. Jeff positioned us all on a log and tried to get us to smile. But Allie wasn't going to do it. She was in complete meltdown mode, and was beginning to rub off on Kyla, who was also starting to complain about her own cold feet (to be fair, I know it was our fault that we were so completely unprepared for the trek we made through the mud, and Jeff and I were trying to be extra patient with them). No amount of bribery was going to get Allie to stop crying and at least pretend to smile for a picture. So, when I see this, I have to laugh. Enlarge it for the full effect.


After we made it back to our car (Jeff carried Allie and I carried Kyla back down), Jeff said, "this is a good story for your blog." Yes, it was something I will probably want to remember.

The Long Version

So, here's the story. Wednesday we go in for the ultrasound, everything is going well, we're excited we're having a boy. Then, the u/s tech says, "This isn't a huge deal, but I'm almost positive your cord only has two vessels instead of three, so I'm going to schedule an appointment with the perinatologist at the hospital."

My heart sank. I instantly remembered that after we lost Chance, the doctor told me that the only unusual finding with my placenta and cord was that the cord only had two vessels. At the time, he said it was not the reason that my water broke so early, it was just a coincidence. I informed the u/s tech about this coincidence, and she agreed, it should have had nothing to do with my water breaking. "Still, it doesn't make you feel good, does it?" She proceeded to call and schedule the appointment for me while my mind jumped ahead a few miles, trying to imagine what this meant for us, for this new little boy inside me. After hanging up and informing me about the appointment, she said, "Try not to worry. Most babies that have a two vessel cord turn out fine."

I nodded my head, blinking back tears, knowing that telling me to try not to worry was like telling Allie to try not to fall asleep on our bi-weekly drives to Mapleton for Damon's soccer games (it just doesn't happen). She must have seen the look on my face, because she tried to reassure me, explaining that we were only slightly higher risk for health problems (kidney and heart specifically), and that the perinatologist would want to make sure baby boy was growing alright. Dutifully, I continued to nod my head, quite certain that this was the "something wrong" I had been sensing.

Still, for the rest of the day, I tried to talk myself out of being worried. After doing some research, and finding out that 80% of babies with a two vessel cord are perfectly normal, I felt a little better. I tried to remind myself--AGAIN--that this is something completely out of my control and that--AGAIN--I need to have more faith that the Lord knows what's best for me and my family and everything will turn out fine.

For the most part, I started to believe it. But every now and then, doubt would creep back in, and before long, I was stressing big time. Thursday morning it finally bubbled up, and I had a good cry alone in the bathroom. Man, I needed that; I needed that time to let all the negativity go, and the only way that was going to happen is if I really let myself feel bad for a few minutes. It didn't last long, and sweet little Kyla found me and snapped me back to reality. I felt like I could actually let go, instead of just talking about it. I was ready to give in to the will of the Lord, whatever that might be.

Friday, I was surprisingly calm when we went in for u/s #2. And this one went extremely well. I only had to remind myself to stop clenching my entire body and breathe twice. The doctor spent a lot of time looking at baby's heart, something the u/s tech hadn't been able to see very well on Wednesday. Everything looked good. He has two kidneys, his heart has four chambers, and he is still a he. He is also growing right on schedule. What a huge relief and weight lifted off my shoulders.

It doesn't mean we are in the clear yet. We will be monitored closely to make sure he continues to grow and I am acutally going to do the MSAFP test to tell us whether or not he potentially has Down Syndrome. But I feel okay about everything. Even if something turns out to be wrong, and we fall into the 20%, it will be okay. I know the Lord will take care of us, and I promised Him in one of my many, many prayers this week, that I will love this little boy just as I do my other three, no matter what. I was reading in Mosiah 4:9 yesterday (one of my favorites), and feeling like it was written just for me. I know the Lord has all power, and can fix any problems we have. But I also know he has all wisdom and I have to trust that His perspective is so much greater than my own.

So, for now, I am at peace. I am relieved that everything looks good so far, and am hopeful that it will continue this way. But if not...I'll accept it.

Post 301

Yep, my last post was #300 on this blog. Momentous occasion, so please observe a moment of silence...moment over.

I have an entirely different post currently rattling around in my brain, but it's going to have to wait until after tomorrow, and ultrasound #2. Which means, for those of you who are not my Facebook friends (and you should be!), we found out yesterday the sex of our baby. And to make it fun for Damon, we tied balloons to the mailbox.



Yep, we're having a boy! I can hardly believe it (I was completely ready to find out it was girl #3), but we are super excited. His umbilical cord only has 2 vessels instead of 3, so we are having a second ultrasound tomorrow to check for any potential problems. So, more (a lot more, I am sure) on that tomorrow after the ultrasound.

This is a cute picture I took of the kids the other day. They were posing in the street and Allie hopped on Damon's back.


And finally, Allie has been cracking us up lately. One day, I heard her singing "I Gotta Feeling," and it went something like this, "I gotta feeling, that tonight's gonna be a good night. And tomorrow's gonna be a good night. And after tomorrow's gonna be a good night. And after after tomorrow's gonna be a good night..."

My personal favorite. "Mom, I know dad's car is a boy, because it has a mustache."

Overdue post

I don't know why I haven't posted in a while. I guess I have just been in a blogging funk and haven't felt like sitting down and writing. "My bad!," as my mom would say.

I was a single mom for two weeks, that was a lot of fun. Jeff and his brothers took a trip down the Colorado River for 10 days (the trip of a lifetime, as the wives were told). He was home for 12 hours before he hopped on a plane and flew to Dallas for the BYU/Oklahoma game. Rough life, huh? I took the kids to St. George for Labor Day weekend, and an Esplin Family reunion, so by the time we were reunited, it had been two weeks since we had seen him for more than a couple of hours. Kyla had pink eye while he was gone, and I was waiting it out, hoping I wouldn't have to take her to the doctor for an antibiotic, and I probably waited too long. Again, "my bad!" Jeff's brother sent him a text from our boys' soccer game while Jeff was in Texas that said, "Damon scored a goal, KyKy has conjunctivitis, and your wife is wearing tight shorts. You're missing all the fun!" Only two of those things were true (at least, I don't think my shorts were tight), but Jeff said it really made him miss his family. It's good to have him home. Although I did get to watch a lot of Lois and Clark on Hulu (what a great show).

I'm 18 weeks pregnant now and not hiding it well at all. Although people are nice, and tell me that I am tiny, Jeff and I both know the truth. It doesn't bother me, though. I'm just so happy not to be puking anymore that I'll take an expanding belly as a trade. Allie has suddenly been very involved in the pregnancy (or at least acknowledging it on a daily basis). She told me the other day, as I was cutting an avocado, that it reminded her of a mom with a baby inside.

Another day, she was in the bathroom as I was getting dressed, and she asked me, "Do you have those same ones for all your babies?"

Confused, I asked, "The same what?"

"The same breasts," she clarified. Obviously she has noticed that my "new" set are looking a little different.

For the most part, I feel really good. I haven't been too anxious at all about this pregnancy, but just feeling like everything is going to be fine. Then a week before I went to St. George, my mom called and told me that my cousin's wife was 20 weeks pregnant with her fourth boy when they couldn't find his heartbeat on the ultrasound. It was confirmed that he had passed away, and she had to deliver a stillborn baby boy. For some reason, this really affected me. I'm not close to this cousin and his wife, but I felt an instant connection with her, and I couldn't help but relive my own experience with a stillborn baby boy. Since then, I have had TONS of anxiety, ranging from something is wrong with the baby to something is wrong with me. Last week I was having a lot of lower back pain, and I was in complete panic mode, sure I was having preterm labor. I tried to calm myself down, listing to myself all the reasons that was absurd, like, I have never had preterm labor with any of my babies, so why should I now? Still, though, it took me several hours to get my brain to believe it.

It all comes back to the lesson I have to keep relearning: no matter what I do, I have no control over what happens with this baby. If he/she is going to have physical or mental disabilities, worrying about it isn't going to change that. If he/she is going to suddenly stop growing, I can't change that either. All I can do is put my trust in the Lord and believe that He knows what is best for me and my family, and let the rest itself out. But, why oh why is that such a hard lesson to learn?

The past few days I have felt better (mentally. My back still hurts.). I feel more willing to give up control and to work on the things I CAN do (like being a better mom to the three kids I do have). I've been listening to "More Holiness give Me" from The Missionary Hymn Project, and was struck really for the first time at just how beautiful the words are. Listen to it sometime if you're feeling overwhelmed. It helped me to realize that I don't have to be perfect right now. I don't have to do everything. I just need to do a little more. Be a little better (like President Hinckley used to always say). Be a little more like my Savior. And so those are the things I have been asking for lately. I defintely need all the help I can get.

Okay. Maybe now you're wishing that I was still on my blogging hiatus after all that. I know posts are boring without any pictures, so here is one from Damon's first day of school. Hopefully, he will fill that doorway (or a lot more of it) by the time he is standing there for his senior year of high school. He is doing great at school, and has four friends (boys, yay!) that he plays with at recess. I focus on that, and not the fact that they play with all the third grade girls, in some kind of competition for the slide. Some kids were made for public school, and Damon is one of them.