Happy Birth Day!

He came on the day we prayed he wouldn't.
Two days past his due date, and having rejected the ideal days to be born, he made his appearance, just a reminder that babies will come when they want (unless they're a c-section or induction.) Ellie's first preschool Christmas program was on a Thursday morning so I had gone from asking people to pray her baby brother would be born on a certain day to asking them to pray that he wouldn't come until Thursday afternoon at the earliest.
He didn't get the memo.
On Wednesday, December 14th, I woke up at 1:30am. Just because. You know how it goes - you're pregnant, you have to wake up and pee every couple hours. Typically I fall quickly asleep again but not this time. Then, at 3:00am, just as I was starting to drift off to sleep finally, I felt a contraction. Quite a bit stronger than the ones I had been feeling over the past couple weeks.
11 minutes later another one.
9 minutes later another.
"Tim," I said quietly.
"Hmmmm?" he muttered sleepily.
"I think we're having a baby today."
"Ok."
7 minutes later another.
Then another.
"I'm going to start getting everything together," I told him.
"Why don't you lay down and rest?" he asked. "We're not supposed to go in until they're 5 minutes apart for an hour."
"Yeah," I countered. "That rule doesn't apply to people on their fourth delivery, when the past two labors were only four hours long and who have to drive forty minutes in to the hospital and who are already dilated to four centimeters. I'm getting up."
He was so laid back it was driving me crazy.
I finished packing the suitcases and went on to wake the kids up since the contractions had started being 5 minutes apart and it was now 4:00am. I called our friends who had offered to watch the kids and told them to meet us at the hospital. I called my mom and set up plans with her that my dad would still go in to work, she would still wait at home for the fuel gas people to come fill their tank (they had not had heat for 4 days before that) and they would come to Grand Rapids that evening to see us and pick up the kids.
Tim, during this time, was deciding to get the kids a snack and was still quite laid back.
I was still yelling out contractions and suddenly Tim snapped into reality.
"Quick! They're four minutes apart! Get in the car! Get the kids in the car! Do you have everything?"
After loading up our very excited and very awake children and the suitcases, we were off to GR. We pulled up to the hospital around 5:00am and he dropped me off at the ER entrance, then went to meet our friends and hand the kids off to them. I made my way in and was soon taken up to triage where they put me on the bed, declared me 6 cm dilated and strapped the monitors to me.
And that's when my labor started stalling.
I was moved up to a labor and delivery room and my contractions slowed to around 8 minutes apart and mild enough to not be bothersome. I started sleeping between them. My doctor broke my water and nothing progressed. I briefly walked the halls and bounced on the birthing ball with no success.
My doctor started Pitocin at 9:00am.
At 10:00 am I was still at a 6 with nothing happening. The nurse upped the Pitocin a bit and suggested I lay in a different position. Since I had felt his head down on the left side of my pelvic bone area for the end of the pregnancy, I decided to lay on my right side in hopes it would help him slide down.
And did it!
The contractions immediately started coming 2-3 minutes apart and after a couple, I called my nurse back in. She checked me and said I was at a 7. I called her back in a few minutes later and said I felt LOTS of pressure and that I felt like I had to go to the bathroom. She said that was good, that it was the baby moving down.
I told her she had better check me again. She seemed a little hesitant since she had just been in there to check but did it anyways.
I was 9 cm.
She called my doctor in and he checked me and said it was time to push.
After about 15-20 minutes of pushing - which I could have shortened because I knew I wasn't pushing the right way but I was stalling it then, I could remember the pain from pushing Caleb out, the "ring of fire" if you will, and just really, REALLY didn't want to feel it again - when my doctor said, "I can see his head. I see hair."
"Dark hair?" I asked.
"Dark hair."
"Lots of it?" I asked with hope.
"I see the top of a head with lots of dark hair," he confirmed.
And with that, my baby came out with the next push.
After 8 hours since my first contraction, with only 3 of those hours actually feeling like I was in labor and 5 hours being stalled, we welcomed our fourth baby - third son - into the world at 11:05am.
Ezekiel Nelson Ross
Ezekiel means "Strength of God" and we picked it because we were knew we were going to need God's strength to enter a season of life we never expected by having four children.
Nelson is my maiden name. My parents only had two girls and so it's a way for me to honor my dad and pass on his last name.
His nickname is Zeke.
He has been an added surprise into our journey and less than a month ago we welcomed him with love.

Early Mornings and Waiting

Well, am I an inconsistent blogger or what?
November 22nd - 2 days until Thanksgiving. 20 days until my due date.
I started nesting over the weekend. Things that were on my to-do list for this week just couldn't wait any longer in my mind by the time last Saturday rolled around. The baby clothes were sorted by size, washed, dried and put away. Tim found me in our bedroom emptying books off a tall bookshelf that I suddenly decided was to be moved to a different area of the room. Thankfully, he found me before the bookshelf had been moved so he could do that part himself. I'm a bit stubborn and when I start rearranging I tend to forget the restrictions...or maybe ignore them, I'm not sure.
The bassinet has been set up in the little area that was cleared by moving the bookshelf. The changing table area on top our dresser is ready and waiting for a baby. Although I need to find the changing pad. Or buy a new one if I gave the other away. Hmmm. That's on the to-do list for today.
To-do lists. One to be done today: Clean bathroom. Change sheets on beds. Pick up house before small group tonight. Finish reading the chapter to be discussed for small group.
There's the brief Thanksgiving one to be done tomorrow before heading to my parents' house: pack an overnight bag and bake an apple pie.
There's the homemade Christmas gifts one: make superhero capes for the kids. Make a blanket for Caleb. Tim - make dress up clothes station for Ellie.
I still have to pack my hospital bag.
And work: research and write grants.
To-do lists to be accomplished while waiting. And waiting. And waiting. I know these last weeks are going to fly by and yet sometimes I think they are the hardest. The discomfort has set in.
Waking up every 2 hours at night to go to the bathroom and roll over to sleep on my other side. Waking up at 5:00 every morning and not being able to fall back asleep. Although, I'd rather wake up at 5:00 am than 4:00 am, which is what was happening for awhile. I like these quiet morning hours with everyone else asleep. It allows for time to do different things: catch up on Pinterest, read, have my quiet/devotional time, work.
The early mornings are also making me excited for when this little one decides to join the family. I love looking around the living room and picturing it decorated for Christmas. The tree in the corner with twinkling lights, stockings hung on our "mantle", the peaceful quiet in the early morning hours all snuggled up in a blanket with a warm cup of chai or tea or hot chocolate. I'm looking forward to feeding and snuggling a tiny body against mine in this room in the hours where it is just him and I.
And so I wait...patiently...impatiently...it goes back and forth. We can't wait to meet him. There is the anticipation of finding out what he looks like, who he looks like. Each of the kids has had different color hair. Will he be a surprise red head or will he resemble one of the others? What hair Noah had was so blond that he looked bald. Eleanor was, and is, strawberry blond. Caleb's looked dark but is auburn, hints of red running through brown. Will he be long or short? Chubby or thin? Oh, the waiting.
I can't wait to enjoy my winter early mornings with him.

It Goes Both Ways

Recently I have been hearing about many marriages that are breaking up or separating or just listening to wives who are frustrated with their husbands. It makes me sad because I can't relate. I don't have a perfect marriage but I am pretty darn blessed. I am able to open my eyes in the morning, look over at Tim and wonder how it's possible to be more in love now than when we got married just over 8 years ago.
Then I realized something that really makes a difference in our marriage: we empathize with each other, not just sympathize, but really feel and relate to what the other is experiencing. For instance:
I got the kids settled with their lunches today. Before starting mine, I decided to clean up the mess on the counter I had made while making theirs, thinking about what time I should start dinner for tonight so that we could be done eating in enough time to get to Tim's soccer game. Then I realized I needed to switch the laundry over. While I wrestled carrying a load of laundry from the dryer to the bed, where I would need to think about folding it at some point today, Noah asked if I could get him more water. At this point, I thought about how I could have almost snapped. Here I am caring for my family's physical needs (eating), social calendar (soccer) and home management (laundry.) That's a lot to juggle all at the same moment in time. I can see why we women get overwhelmed!
I know husbands who still have the idea in their heads that the wife should be following the same format from the '50s, where dinner is ready when they get home, the kids are clean, the wife is showered and dressed to impress, and the house is spotless and quiet. Ha! Gone are those days, men. Accept it. Life is different 60 years later.
Thankfully, Tim gets this. What helped him was when he had to experience it for a few days last fall during my "busy season" of work, and he didn't even have to experience it to the max. All he had to do was be a stay-at-home dad for a few days, but I still planned out meals ahead of time - either in the crock pot or having a casserole ready to pop in the oven - dropped Noah off at school and planned for my work day on top of it. By the second day of experiencing a week in my shoes, he was begging to go to Meijer and run errands when I got home at the end of the day. He understood the importance of needing a break and needing to get out of the house for a couple hours!
But it goes both ways. I have also learned about Tim and his work. I realize that when he gets home, it doesn't help him if I start nagging as soon as he comes through the door. He is a painter and physically exhausted when he is done with the day. I really came to realize this when we started working on projects together and I would have to paint. My arms grew tired quickly! Then I realized he does it for 8-10 hours a day! Sometimes he's painting ceilings or sanding or staining or doing all sorts of different things. I have to put myself in his daily shoes to see what he's experiencing to appreciate what he does to provide for our family.
I wonder how many people do that. Maybe more wives need to experience what their husband is doing for them to appreciate it rather than growing jealous that he gets to "get out of the house" every day. Maybe more husbands need a couple days with the kids - without help from surrounding family - to appreciate their wives and loosen their expectations of what one can accomplish in a day.
I am thankful for my husband. So thankful. I love the home we have created and the path we are walking on through life. It's not always fun, but I know we'll try to relate to each other as we go through it together.

Another Bonus!

A bonus baby that is!
We are expecting a son (3 boys and 1 girl in our family- who would have ever thought!) in December.
We were a bit...shocked. Especially since we had just reached a decision that Tim would undergo "the procedure." I even played an April Fool's joke on my dad where I called and said, "Hey, Dad, you know how every time I run a 5K I end up pregnant?" (This happened when I found out I was pregnant with Caleb.) He laughed and I laughed and we wished each other a happy April Fool's Day.
The joke is always on me it seems.
3 days later, while we were on vacation, I got my purse calendar out to look at an upcoming date. That's when I counted.
And counted.
And counted again.
Then I asked Tim to go to Target and get me a test.
He did and within seconds there were 2 very clear lines.
After making it through the rest of our vacation, I came home and cried for a week straight. Oh, to feel such anger was beyond me. I struggled with emotions I had not deal with before, even when I found out I was pregnant with Caleb.
It felt like the opposite of the infertile couple's anger. Instead of, "Why, Lord, can others get pregnant but not me?" it became "Why, Lord, are you giving me another baby when there are people out there who really want one?"
Then God humbled me.
He always seems to do that well.
He spoke to me during my quiet time in the devotional I was reading. (Ever read Jesus Calling?
You should.) He reminded me that my plans are not His and that His are far better.
So I began to rest in His peace.
We are excited. Tim and the kids always were. Tim always adjusts quicker than me.
And a boy!
Goodness, we had a girl name picked out but couldn't settle on a boy's. We still can't! Although there are a couple front-runners finally.
Another bonus baby...

Blogging Hiatus Reason #1

Last summer I (kind of unknowingly) interviewed for a position I was interested in. I say "unknowingly" because I thought I was dropping off some bins and boxes to the program's executive director and ended up going inside her house (again, I thought to catch up on life real quick and ask a couple questions about the job) and found myself in a laid-back interview. Laid-back as in on her couch with me wearing holey-knee jeans. Yikes.
Moral of the story: Always look nice when going to important people's houses. Even if you think you're just dropping something off.
Soon after she called to offer me the position and I accepted it. For almost a year now I have been the Program Director for STATS (Straight Talk About Tough Stuff.) I had been volunteering as a team leader with this program for the 2 years prior. It is sponsored by a local hospital and what ends up happening is that 48 high school students are selected after an interview process. Those kids are split up into 6 teams of 8 (4 boys, 4 girls.) They come up with about an hour long presentation over the next few weeks using skits, songs, personal talks, etc. to present the message of abstinence from drugs, sex, alcohol and tobacco to the middle schools in Muskegon County. Each year we hit 12-13 middle schools and see 2,000+ kids.
The job is part-time and I am able to do the bulk of it from home. The fall (beginning of the school year especially) is my "busy season" as we are interviewing and selecting students, organizing teams, doing a full-day retreat and another mini-retreat and a ton of other things. I work in the morning for a couple hours, during the kids' nap time and, if needed, after they go to bed. You can see why this would take away from blogging time. However, my position is active during the school months and not summer, which gives me more time to do things I haven't had time to during the year. It also doesn't stop me from researching a bit or being aware of articles, documentaries, etc. and spending a bit of time here and there researching, but I don't feel the pressure as much now.
This program is something I am passionate about and you may (or may not) wonder why a program like this is important. If you have time, please read any of the following links:

The Underage Drinking Epidemic (Parade magazine article from 6/12/11)
Teen Marijuana Use on the Rise (Report from ABC World News 12/14/10)
Oral Sex is the New Goodnight Kiss (an alarming but necessary read for parents)
Tobacco Use Among Teens is Dangerously High (ABC News report)

It is more effective to have high school students talking to middle school students about these topics which is what makes this program important. I still continue to be shocked when I walk into a 7th-grade class to watch a presentation and see a pregnant girl sitting in the room. I am sad when I think about my young cousins, some underage, some newly-21 (but who have been drinking for a long time already) who are already alcoholics. Their Facebook statuses read over and over about being wasted or drinking or not being able to remember the events of the night before.
I think there are those in our society today who just don't think anything is going to work. Kids will be kids; they're dumb and naive; they don't stand a chance with their background; and on and on the excuses go. So they just turn a blind eye and tell themselves, while if they're going to drink or smoke or whatever, then I'll have them do it under my watch so that they're safe. Since they're going to sex, I'll just give them a condom or put them on birth control.
These kids are not safe.
They are young and they are a danger to themselves and those around them. Most teens who drink had their first taste of alcohol given to them by a family member.
I can't sit and do nothing when I have a voice.
So I will speak.

Peace

I am sitting outside tonight on the rocker bench my dad made me. My head is resting against a pillow that I covered with a cheerful fabric that I could stare at all day. We have returned from an open house and my belly is filled too much with good food to the point where I am regretting that last-minute helping of spinach artichoke dip. But it looked so good...and it tasted even better.
The Pandora app on my phone is filling the air with music from The Wailin' Jennys station and I close my eyes. After a cloudy rainy morning, the sun burst out this afternoon and its summer evening rays are falling on my face. They feel warm until the wind blows and then a chill gently bites down to my bones. It is as if the weather is temperamental tonight - hormonal, menopausal - to where you want to put on a sweatshirt one minute and take it back off the next.
I don't mind. As the wind blows, my spirit soars. My heart is filled with joy. I am rest-filled, God-filled, at this moment. Earlier I was going into an uncertain situation and on the drive there I prayed over and over for peace and a calm to come over my anxious heart and mind.
Peace was delivered.
God is good.
His Peace passes understanding.
I have faith that He provides it no matter what, but it is up to us to grasp it, to let go of our fears and insecurities and hold to Him for dear life.
He is faithful, even when we doubt.
I have learned this lesson from Him already and I was able to go into this evening truly believing He would bring me peace. Because He does not go back on His promises.
I have not blogged in 6 months. And before that, I blogged only a couple times in the few months. There are reasons for that. They are not for tonight, though. Thankfully, with the arrival of summer I will be able to finally release all the words that have been inside me. The thoughts and stories. The updates and pictures of our family.
Not tonight, though.
Tonight is to be thankful for His peace.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." -John 14:27