children | laborofwonder

The Importance of Being Unimportant

by motherofwonder

I recently read a facebook status of a fellow SAHM (stay at home mom), talking about the fight to remember what you’re doing actually is important, even when it feels like nothing you do really matters. I totally relate. Don’t worry, this doesn’t just apply to in-house-mamas, this is applicable for all walks of life. Don’t we all fall into ruts where we wonder if anyone would really notice if we just stopped showing up? Stopped doing the work? Stopped trying? Admit it. We’ve all had something like that roll across our minds at least once. Sometimes once a day. I’m not saying that all moms, or all people for that matter, feel this way indefinitely, but let’s be really honest– we are a people in constant need of validation and therefore feel that way at least every once in a blue moon.

I certainly get that way, where I feel invisible. Where I wonder what would happen if I stopped doing the dishes, the laundry, or even (*gasp*) cooking! And, honestly, sometimes I will let things slide, just kind of to see what happens… but that only creates more work, and a less-than-happy work environment. (Which would probably be the case for anyone in any job, if you started letting your normal day-to-day slide.) That’s not to say we don’t all deserve a break, because sometimes we need one. There’s just this feeling of no one knows just how much I do, or just how busy I really am. Someone once said, “You’re so lucky you can just eat anything you want.” Well, we really eat pretty healthy, and practice portion control, but also… I am always on the move! I have three children 4 and under! I don’t really have time to lay around!! It made me think of the old cliche, “I am a stay at home mom, therefore I lay around eating bon bons all day.” I think that anyone with children can agree that is not a possibility! First of all because your kids would be getting into major trouble if you were just laying around unaware of their goings-on, and secondly, if you keep bon bons in the house, the kids will have sniffed them out and eaten them while you were laying around, so you’d go to the box and it’d be empty.

Yes, there is pride in a job well done. At home, at work, or at play. There is satisfaction in knowing that I am the one raising my children, that I am the one witnessing all their firsts, that I am the one they come running to no matter who else is available, because Mommy has always been the one that has been there to take care of them. There is also validation in hearing friends and family say that when they have kids, they’re just going to send them to live with me. Because they know I love it, I enjoy it, and I work hard to raise them as best as I can. I really do strive to raise children who thrived because of their upbringing instead of just having survived it. But it’s a lot of work, and you don’t always see the affects until years down the road. At least not the full affect. So the little-in-the-moment-times can make you feel like it’s unimportant. (Maybe it’s that way in your job as well. Maybe you are responsible for an inch of a mile long project. But what would that mile be, without that one inch?) As a stay at home mom it can even feel as though you’re not making a “real” contribution to society. But in the end, what better contribution could I ever give, than a generation of thoughtful, caring, concerned, responsible, respectful, respectable, level headed (or as much as they can be- they are my children!) adults who will be leading the future?? That sounds pretty important to me.

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, Nothing is going to get better. It's not." Dr. Seuss in the book The Lorax

Family Life According To Me

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My Wish For You

by motherofwonder

While we are normally in the land of the cold and the frozen… two days ago we endured a 103 degree day, with lots of wind and humidity. Here I sit today, two days later in my boot slippers, sweatpants, and a sweatshirt. And I’m not hot. Granted, it will assuredly be warmer by the end of the day, but for now… sometimes I think the weather here is something of a joke God’s playing on all of us that have chosen to continue to live here through the cold, cold of the winter to the hot, hot summers.

Today while I’m trying to get things cleaned up before a)out of town company comes; b) hubby leaves for his trip (let’s face it, life won’t get easier when he’s gone!); and c) I leave for a quick getaway (because there’s nothing worse than coming home to a mess)…oh I was saying, today, while trying to get things cleaned up quickly, I’m being followed. And it’s making really weird noises. Ok, so it’s Littlest E, and it’s kissing noises he’s making. Every time I turn around and look at him, he gives me his big toothy grin, followed by his screech of a laugh! It’s adorable and oh so distracting. I mean, seriously, how am I supposed to not give him a kiss when he’s chasing me making kissing noises?! He’s also just learned to shake his head (as in like you would do if you were telling me no)… and now likes to do that anytime anyone says anything. I’m thinking his siblings may have given him the “head shake” a time or two… anyways, see what I mean about distracting? Just talking about him is distracting! (*chuckle* he’s so cute) So let me get back to where I was, or at least where I meant to be heading with this all… Littlest E will be 1 year in less than a month! (*sob*) and I cannot get over just how fast it went by!! I think the more children you have, the fast the littlest’s first year goes. I haven’t done any formal research on the subject, it’s just my humble opinion. So as I think about the last year and how fast it went it had me thinking about things I wish for him in the future. Things I wish for all of my children as they learn and grow and (*gasp*) become their own individuals, outside their relationship with me. So here is my quick list of ten things that I hope (and hopefully am doing more to make them reality than just hoping!!) for their lives:

1. I hope they are always willing to learn. Big things and small things alike. Learn. From me, because of me, and probably sometimes in spite of me.

2. I hope they learn the difference in doing something because it feels right and doing something because they know it is right.

3. I hope they always know that the unique, wonderful individuals they are…are exactly the wonderful, unique individuals they were created to be. Hopefully in less time than it took me to figure that out.

4. I hope they learn the value of laughter. It’s healing, it’s bonding, it’s life affirmations. Not just making others laugh (which I know they already know to do), but being able to laugh themselves. In hard times as well as good times.

5. I hope they always remember the adage of “You cannot change others, you can only change yourselves.” Even if they grow to dislike it out of annoyance as they grow, the way I may or may not have felt…before passing it on to my own children.

6. I hope they always know that God is bigger. (I should not ask God if He knows how big my storm is. I should be asking the storm if he knows how big my God is. -paraphrased because I can’t remember it exactly)

7. I hope they always feel beautiful but that they know that’s not where the real beauty and value lies; for themselves or for others.

8. I hope they grow knowing that their ideas are valuable and pertinent. And always worth exploring.

9. I hope they grow knowing and believing the importance of family and community. How to live in one, and be a part of one, successfully.

10. And I can’t help but add this, and mean it whole-heartedly… I hope they always love their mama. I hope that I have raised them in a way where they know that not only can they depend on me, but they want to.

11. Ok, I know I said 10, but I just wanted to add this in- That their dreams stay big and their worries stay small. And that they’ve enough of their father’s type A, can do personality that they can put it into action. With maybe some of my optimism thrown in.

*I also hope I’ll be able to handle it when I’m not their favorite person, when I’m not the one they choose to share their secrets with anymore… because right now, that sounds pretty devastating to me. Maybe at that point we’ll be ready to talk about foster care or adoption. That way I’ll always have at least one person in the house that likes me! Oh, I guess i’ll still have hubbyman… !! (*wink*)

Family Life According To Me

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Good Thing They’re Cute

by motherofwonder

Last night I hit a wall. There is so much stress in ~~this house~~ it’s palpable. Ok, maybe in me is more accurate. My hardworking husband has been working a lot of overtime for over a month now. I don’t mean to complain about his job, because I’m so thankful he has one! Let alone one he enjoys, cares about, and (even better!) one he hardly ever even complains about. It is by far the best job he’s ever had, and probably the least amount of overtime as well. So why am I complaining? Because he pretty much stopped working overtime after Littlest E was born. I’m not sure if it was just so I would survive those beginning days as a new parent of three, or just the scare of it all, but I am ever so thankful for it! Really there is only a couple hours in the day where things are a little unbearable, and thankfully it’s not every day. Unfortunately it falls when Daddy “should be” home until he actually gets home. And then the magic switch is flipped back over and my sweet children return.

And truly, knowledge is power. Because while a meltdown might ensue when it’s me vs. them… just knowing that hubbyman’s home, even if he’s doing a project or something, is enough. Seriously. It’s maddening. There’s just something about knowing that I am not quite so outnumbered. Like last night, we were all bordering on the brink of disaster while I made dinner. And wouldn’t you know it, they didn’t like it/want it. Or the second meal I created out of sheer desperation. And then Daddy walks in, they want to eat what he’s eating, and they all (truly, all 3) are in his lap and eating! (*insert growl and eye roll*) Whatever, I’m just glad they ate.

While doing dinner cleanup, we notice that the big E’s have gone mysteriously quiet. And we know the gate is up (for littlest E’s sake), so they haven’t gone down to their rooms to play, which only means one thing- they’re in the bathroom. And that’s never good. Fortunately, I probably wear make up about once a month, maybe twice…maybe not at all. Yes, it’s that often. Therefore the kids aren’t really sure what’s it’s all about, because they’re not seeing it demonstrated on a daily basis. Unfortunately, I keep “the basics” in the bathroom they were in. (The basics being lipstick, foundation, blush, eyeshadow, and mascara) I wasn’t shocked to see my MissE in some make up, what I was shocked by was the fact that the biggest E had only been an observer and not a participant.

So she had mascara all over her eyes and eyebrows, foundation on her mouth, and eye shadow on her cheeks. It took a half an hour to wash MOST of it off. Thankfully at this point it was 9:00! Bedtime!! And littlest E had just been put down for the night. So I did what any normal mom would do after an evening like this… I poured a glass of wine, grabbed my favorite magazine that I’ve been meaning to read for months, and took a nice, hot, uninterrupted bath! (Which is very rare! The previous night I tried to take a shower after they went to bed, because that’s pretty much the only time I can fit on in… only to be scared half to death by the sudden movement of the curtain and the little hands that were grabbing at my legs. I’m surprised I didn’t scream, truly.)

I love my children, I love my life with them, I love being their mom, I really love it all… but when I lose myself in them, that’s when troubles arise. Sometimes something so simple as an hour in warmth of the tub, consoled by all my own thoughts and feelings about my own things, that I can reconnect with the person I am, as an individual. And today the person I am is a refreshed, albeit tired, mommy to three sweet little kids.

And I just found where she “stashed” my makeup… it’s in the bag, just completely filled with spilled foundation, unscrewed mascara, squeezed out lipgloss, and open cases of what I think used to be eye shadow. Did I mention how sweet they are? Good thing they’re cute. *sigh*

Family Life According To Me

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First Kiss

by motherofwonder

This morning as I was being used as a human jungle gym, my mind wandered…

This summer marks 14 years since my first kiss. And every summer I can’t help but think back to that day. And that boy. He was almost 16. Which as any teenager knows, is a big deal, because obviously you’re so close to adulthood at 16, because you can drive. He was one of those boys who might come across as a little full of himself. (And it might have been a little true.) Lots of friends and always sure of himself. The adult in me sees that most of that was probably a facade, but to the shy teenage girl, it was totally believable.

So I sit and think about what happened between us that summer, the letters, the phone calls… I consider the ways I grew and changed afterwards, and how he inevitably did too. I remember how weekly e-mails in high school turned to yearly birthday calls in college. I don’t remember any of it being particularly heart breaking (he may remember it differently, but I still see it with a bit of rose-colored glasses). Mostly, though, I think about the way time and circumstance changes people. The girl I was…how she became the woman she is. The boy he was and how he became the man he is… and I can’t help but wonder at the affects of that kiss. Now it may seem silly to for me to even think about considering where I’m at now, but I can’t help but wonder what life would look like if the inevitable too-young-love break-up hadn’t occurred.

So instead of the what-might-have-beens, I take a deep breath, let out a sigh, and smile. The roads that boy and I have taken since that fateful night so long ago… there’s been bends and twists, heartbreaks and tears, and even laughter… for both of us. But as my hair is being pulled by my youngest, my oldest launching himself off the couch and onto my stomach, while my middlest lays next to me laughing hysterically; I have no doubts, no second-guesses, no wish-we-would-haves. Only a silent acknowledgment that the roads that boy and I took, well, we needed to take them, as individuals. And I kind of think it makes the road we’re on, as adults, that much sweeter. After all, that boy turned into the most wonderful husband and the most amazing father that this 14-year-old-girl-turned-woman could ever have dreamed of. ♥ And sometimes it’s the sweetness of “our story” and the length of our friendship, love, and history that keep me from killing him (figuratively, of course), so I think he’s probably thankful for it too.

Family Love Dare Marriage

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Making lemonade out of children

by motherofwonder

Let’s face it, life is…hard. No matter what stage, status, or anything else that you’re defined by… it’s hard for all of us. In ways as unique as we each are. Whether today’s hard stuff is finishing a project by the deadline with your job on the line, or finding a job, or surviving your job (or your kids!)… we’re all going through something. And sometimes, in the middle of the storm, there really isn’t a silver lining…but maybe, just maybe, there is some laughter.

I’ve found just when my attitude begins effecting my parenting… they say or do something that reminds me of who I’m dealing with, and how old they are. Like this scenario:

Miss E loves to run. And loves for YOU to run WITH her. So when my peach of a girl asked if she could have a cookie, after she’d eaten lunch, I grabbed her by the hand and said- Let’s run! Big E came scrambling behind, grinning with the silliness of running a few feet for a cookie. Then he began talking, but I was already engaged in a conversation with Miss E and quickly found myself becoming annoyed with him…until I heard his words. But Moooom, why were you running? The cookies can’t go anywhere! And of course, laughter ensued. And my grinning, dimpled boy walked off, cookie in hand, pleased as punch he’d successfully said something funny, maybe even intentionally. (this happened last week)

or one of my absolute favorites:

Big E was sitting on the bed next to me, while I was changing a 2month old Ethan’s diaper, and I was talking about how chubby Littlest E was. And Big E asks,

Were Miss E and I chubby when we was babies?

Yes, you were very chubby. You had the arms and Miss E had the legs.

(with wide eyes full of concern) I didn’t have any legs?!

another favorite MissE moment was when I found her in the kitchen, dressed in a lion costume while hopping like a frog… only to be informed she was actually a puppy?!

or this conversation with Big E:

Mom, go away!

Excuse me, you don’t talk to me that way.

Mom, will you please go away?

or the time Big E asked me where his dinosaur was (*he has about 100different dinosaurs and knows the name of all of them)…

which dinosaur?

The one with 2 eyes and 1 mouth and sharp claws.

Well, that narrows it down.

Good, then go get it.

(insert a “you shouldn’t talk to me that way” speech and then me handing him several different dinosaurs to which he responds no, and then…)

The ornithomymus! That one is not a stegosaurus. See no spikes on his back?

Ok, well, the name would have been helpful in the beginning.

(*shrugs*) You didn’t ask that.

Big E’s favorite joke is: Knock knock. Who’s there? Panther. Panther who? Panther no pants, I’m going swimming. (*I should add, he finds this joke HILARIOUS. And shows it by throwing his whole body over in laughter with his hands over his face.*)

Miss E always enters the scene at this point, saying, “I’ve got an even better joke.” Knock knock. Who’s there? Panther. Panther who? I’m panther’s sister and I’m going swimming too. (*Picture this being told with a body wiggling in time with the words and an air of “I’m doing a better one than my brother.” I’m pretty sure the hilarity of this joke is in no small part to all the well-timed wiggling*)

And because we all laughed so enthusiastically the first time these jokes were told, they are continued to be told in various households and stores, in hopes of passing on their wonderful wit to various friends, family, and strangers. You should be so lucky to find yourself in a conversation of hilarity with one of them. These are just some of the conversations that help me keep things in perspective… or at least keep me laughing. ♥

*moments after I posted this, I looked down at Littlest E, who’d been playing with a bath toy- a rubber ducky, only to realize he’d moved on to the water dish (of course)… to my surprise he wasn’t tipping the dish over or spilling the water out… he was, putting his ducky in the water.

Which reminded me of the only time (*so far*) one of our children put something other than toilet paper in the toilet… this master piece was done by Big E.

Life According To Me

food glorious food!

by motherofwonder

I don’t especially like when hubbyman has to work late. But… sometimes I appreciate that it gives me extra time to get things done, because I like to make the most of the time he has with us! And if you read yesterday’s post you know I am undertaking the project of “The Love Dare” on my family. Yesterday’s dare (on top of continuing the “not saying anything negative”) was to do something kind. Well, I’m at home all day with 3 little ones and the puppy… and I was a little tempted to just say the not saying anything negative thing was kindness enough! Instead, I put my kindness into “man language.” Also known as food. A language my husband, and even my children, recognize as love. I’d gotten a wonderful magazine (Disney FamilyFun) from my aunt with “ways to jazz up dinner” by Andrew Zimmern (from the TV show Bizarre Foods). And two caught my eye: Korean Fried Chicken Fingers and Chinese Peanut-Sesame Noodles. I opted for the first, but I’m hoping to try the noodles this weekend! While Erik came home earlier than anticipated and I started it a little later than I’d anticipated… it was still a hit! While fried of course isn’t the healthiest of choices, it’s better for you (and tasting!) than mcnuggets! The kids really LOVED it and so did the adults. So much in fact, I’m tempted to make it again tonight! And maybe you should try it too! Here’s how:

Marinade:

2 cloves garlic, crushed
1/2 cup minced scallion
1 tbs vegetable oil
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp white pepper
8 lg boneless, skinless chicken thighs, each sliced lengthwise into three strips

Side note: I didn’t have everything to make this recipe “exact” (and it just might kill me to follow a complete recipe word for word) used 1/2 cup minced red onion (because that’s Erik’s favorite so it’s what we had) and I didn’t have white pepper so I just used my black pepper grinder. I also used sea salt instead of table salt. Oh, and I used boneless, skinless chicken breast instead of thigh (again because it’s what I had!)

In a large bowl, combine all the ingredients for the marinade. Add the chicken and marinate it in the refrigerator for at least 15 minutes, but as long as overnight. (I suggest overnight or a few hours. I only did maybe 1/2 hr and it was still really good but I’d like to give the flavors longer to set in next time)

Batter:

Oil for frying
1/2 cup flour
2/3 cup corn starch
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
1 1/2 tsp sugar
3/4 cup cold water

Side note: I used veg. oil, but plan to try sunflower oil next time! And the flour I did 1/4 cup almond meal flour (because it’s just so yummy!) and 1/4 cup all-purpose gluten free flour. Again, I also used sea salt instead of table salt.

Fill a heavy, deep pan with 2 inches of vegetable oil and heat it to 350 degrees. combine the dry ingredients for the batter. Quickly whisk in the water until the mixture is evenly blended.

Use tongs or a pair of chopsticks to dip and coat the chicken in the batter. Fry the strips in batches of 6 for 5-7 minutes, then drain on paper towels. (I found that about 6ish minutes was a good time. And once you put them in, let them settle, and then scrape them off the bottom. If you wait to long they stick and removing them pulls a lot of the breading off. Also I’d just the next 6 strips in the batter while the other batch was frying.)

Heat the oil to 380 degrees. Fry the chicken in batches once more until crisp, about 60-90 seconds. Place the cooked chicken fingers on fresh paper towels and sprinkle them with salt. Serve immediately with dipping sauce.

*If you were in a time crunch and didn’t mind using the extra oil, you could have a second pan set up so that after you drained the chicken you could immediately move it into the hotter oil.

The chicken would be good with rice or any kind of potato, or really any vegetable for that matter! I made mashed potatoes but forgot all about them! (Guess what we’re having tonight?!) And for the dipping sauce we used sweet and sour. (the recipe suggested it) Although really any kind of dip you have or enjoy would be good with this, I would think. It did also suggest a dip you could serve with it for a spicy kick…but I didn’t have most of the ingredients, and Miss E is allergic to most of them anyways. Plus I kind of shy away from recipes where I’d have to buy a lot of ingredients that I wouldn’t know what to do with other than this one recipe. (Although I do admit it does sound good.) So for the bold, here you go:

Spicy Korean Red-Pepper Dipping Sauce:

1/2 cup Gochujang (Korean red-pepper paste found in Asian markets)
3 tbs ketchup
1/4 agave nectar (or in a pinch, corn syrup)
1 tbs dark sesame oil
2 cloves garlic, crushed
2 tbs soy sauce
1 tbs rice wine vinegar
1 tbs lemon juice

Mommy’s Helper Note: I like to make things the kids can help with and the kids LOVE eating things that they’ve helped to make. While they obviously can’t help with the raw chicken or the frying… I did put the chicken in a ziploc and had them help me pound them with a rolling pin (not necessary but thought they’d cook more evenly if they were uniform and I knew the kids would enjoy the activity). And I always let them help me “unload” all the ingredients into the bowl for the batter.

Chicken Gluten Free Recipes

Blessings Abundant

by motherofwonder

Ok, so I started out by doing a “know your blogger” survey, but I felt like you knew nothing more than my pets’ names afterwards. So then I started going back and forth on ways to tell you about me… but I’ve decided that I’ll share myself as posts continue, and so this post is really just what’s on my heart right now.

Blessed: my life has been more blessed than I ever dreamed it could be. Not in ways you might see just to look at my family and I, but trust me it’s there. We all know people who just seem to be “lucky” -always getting the promotion, winning the prize, finding the lost treasure, and while we are so happy for them- we don’t fit in that category ourselves. Thankfully my husband loves a good fight, because over the course of our marriage we’ve had lots of those. Not with each other (well, maybe some of those too) but with people and companies we’ve dealt with. It’s kind of the if-it-can-go-wrong-it-will kind of thing. We’ve got oodles of that. Important thing in the mail… it’ll get lost at least twice. And then sent to the wrong address. Cancel an account. They’ll continue billing us for MONTHS without ever sending a notice. Even after we’ve called multiple times. These kinds of things have become the norm for us. So if you’re wondering where the luck or the blessings happen… I am too. Ok, that’s not entirely true. We’ve been blessed with each other in our marriage, we’ve been blessed with our children. We have family and friends who are blessings and bless us frequently. Maybe we’ve always known that we were blessed in those departments, but this last year we have had out eyes open to just how lucky we are.

I’ve always wanted kids. For as long as I can remember. The kind of person who you know probably within minutes that I adore children and would have as many as hubbyman could handle. That’s not to say that I didn’t have a period of time (but not more the few years in between high school ending, going to college, and getting married) where I thought a career was on the forefront of my life’s horizon. And then I got married. And all of the sudden it was like everywhere I looked there were babies. And I wanted one. Bad. Hubby tried to keep those feelings pacified by getting a pet. But he was on nights and I worked days, so we got a cat… turns out it didn’t help. In fact, it kinda backfired. So during his deployment in Japan, and probably out of loneliness, he agreed to try for a baby when he got home. We had a very short time line. Obviously that wasn’t a problem. We knew I was pregnant in less than 4 weeks from him coming home.

Pregnancy, for me, unfortunately, wasn’t the dream I’d envisioned. Instead of “pregnancy glow” I had IVs keeping me hydrated because I was so sick and couldn’t keep anything down. Hubbyman says I smelled like I had applesauce coming out of my pores. I probably did. It was pretty much the only thing I’d eat because it was the easiest in reverse. And that was all 9 months. With all of my children. It’s a blast. Needless to say, for me, they’re more like 9 months of guilt for not being all happy and glowy. But the birth… well, let’s just say I’d rather give birth than to feel the way I feel all 9 months of pregnancy! Biggest E’s birth was amazing. I was so proud. Of him and myself. Miss E’s birth was also good. The Dr’s missed it, but the important people were there and that’s what really counts.

Figuring I’m just saying my children are my biggest blessings? I’m getting there, I promise. (and yes, they are my biggest blessings, but that’s not completely the point) After MissE, hubbyman felt like he was done having children. After all, as pretty much everyone we came in contact with would point out, we had one of each, why would we want anymore? While I always assumed I’d have kids, I never really thought of a number. Since Big E and Miss E are only 18 months apart, the early months/years were… well, the first couple months were a struggle. Just as I started thinking that maybe I was content with just two, I had a miscarriage. I’d only had an inkling that I could be pregnant, when it was over. I was so, so very devastated. And it was then that both hubbyman and I knew that we would have at least one more. While we had no idea it would be so soon after, we knew it would be eventual. 4 short months later, we knew we had Littlest E on on the way. I was a nervous wreck. I just had this feeling that I couldn’t shake and assumed it was because of the way my last pregnancy had ended. By 8 weeks we knew that where the umbilical cord inserted into the placenta was not centered like it’s “supposed” to be, but was on the top of it, over a placental lake (or a pool of blood in real people terms). By 20 weeks we knew that he was very small. 13th percentile small, 5 weeks behind my very accurate dates small. By 24 weeks he was now a week AHEAD of schedule. And while that was a relief, I still had that nagging feeling. My midwife was so nonchalant that even when I brought my mom (who is an OB RN, a doula, lactation consultant, parent educator, and infant massage instructor….you get the picture) along on a visit to ask questions, Mom was satisfied as well. Let’s fast forward through the rest of the pregnancy, the rest of the midwife visits, and ultrasounds I had. But let’s pause just to mention that they wanted to do frequent observations, but still continued to tell me there was nothing to worry about. Riiight. Like any woman can really know something COULD be wrong and not worry about it… it’s pretty much engrained in our DNA that we’re going to worry. So worry I did. But I also prayed. I prayed more in those 9 months than I have my entirely life previously combined. And I’m a prayer.

Enter his birth. (11 days early instead of the 10 days overdue like his siblings) We get settled in the room and I’m about to jump in the shower or go for a walk when the nurses start freaking out, because they’ve FINALLY gotten ahold of my charts. And right there in black and white it says that his umbilical cord is only attached by 20%!! Twenty freakin’ percent! Are you kidding me?! Apparently that was something they didn’t think I needed to know. Like the fact that I should have been on bedrest the whole time and not MOVING and lifting and emptying boxes! UGH!!! Obviously, it still makes me a little angry… Unfortunately, it doesn’t end there. After hours more of labor since I was now stuck in bed and not “allowed” to move around or walk or anything else that helps both labor’s progression and natural pain therapy and with them awaiting a C-section (because of the insertion the fear was that it would become unattached when my water broke and he would essentially bleed out). Ethan entered this world (and not via Csection, thank you very much Dr. do-it-my-way). Pink and screaming and very healthy… tiny (less than 6 pounds…3 pounds less than Biggest E!), but healthy. And then came the placenta. The umbilical cord was NOT attached. I repeat, not attached. It had some veins coming out of it that had hooked on to either side of the top of the placenta with the middle of the placenta crumbling. Between my mom and my grandma they have over 50 years of OB nursing between them and they have NEVER seen a baby born with a 0% insertion, because they just don’t survive in utero. In fact, they sent it to pathology to study. (Starting to get the picture?) Medically speaking, there is no reason why he had that growth spurt and then continued to survive. Unfortunately, our adventure did not end there. Even though they knew my placenta had not been whole… they didn’t check for more pieces, or watch my bleeding. Even after I’d repeatedly told my nurse that I’d never had this much bleeding with either of my other children, let alone the fruit sized blood clots. FOR HOURS. Until I could no longer even sit up without passing out (over 4 hours later) did they even ask a Dr to come and consult. Unfortunately, he had a laboring patient down the hall and didn’t want to take the time for a proper DNC (which means going to another floor for operating and putting me under)… so without doing that he decided to just do it in my room, for an hour… using various painful techniques trying to pull the little pieces of my placenta off my uterus. After reaching the point I could not take anymore and having already told him so, repeatedly, only to have him make comments referencing my apparent pain intolerance. Telling me that if I would just settle down he’d be able to do it, how it was no big deal, not a painful procedure, among various other insults. I said all of my labors have been well over 12 hours and all of them have been without any form of pain medication. I know and can handle pain, thank you very much… and while I am willing to endure it for my babies, I am not willing to for you. Finally, at 3 in the morning, they had to take me up to surgery to have an emergency DNC done. While it means I was bleeding for a very long time, it also meant that my little peanut had more time to eat! And eat that boy did! Thankfully my milk supply was already pretty much in (I could hear the big gulps and see the milk on his face)… that’s probably a big part of why he was able to thrive so well. So…that awful night (unfortunately there was more awfulness that occurred, but I just highlighted the most important) and 2 blood transfusions later… we were both alive.

So…long story short…or long story, shorter than whole long story, but still long… After hubbyman had his vasectomy (for multiple reasons but a top one being that after all my in-room specials I’m left with holes and scars and would likely have a very hard time maintaining pregnancies. So the vasectomy was our way of making it our choice, and not something that was taken from us.) he and I got to enjoy some quiet time without “the big kids’ while he was recovering. And during a conversation he asked, “When is our lucky break?” Suddenly, I felt the knowledge welling within me. Not that I believe God gives us “bad luck” or anything like that, but I know, for us, Littlest E is our luck, all rolled in one. He was, and is, our miracle. And we would not trade all the bad luck, or hard times, or long, obnoxious phone calls for him. Ever. He is our lucky break. He is God saying, even among the rest of the crap you have deal with in this life, I’m still here. Thinking of you and protecting you. And He knows the important stuff. He knows me. He knows that on a daily basis I will look at my son and think of the miracle and the blessing he is, which in turn makes me think of the miracle and blessings Big E and Middle E are to my life. And my hubbyman. And our parents, and siblings… and all the REAL blessings our life contains. No matter how long I’ve been on hold to resolve the latest issue.

: Littlest E at 6 months and 20 lbs

*I would also like to add a very special thank you to all our friends and family who kept their thoughts and prayers with us through Littlest E’s pregnancy. (Not to mention all the meals our family and church family provided!) The blessing of it is not lost on our family.

Life According To Me

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