The Birth of neC

The longest pregnancy in the history of ever finally came to an end!!

Ok, so it actually wasn't the longest ever.  In fact, it was a normal length of time.  It just felt like an eternity.  Seriously, of all my pregnancies, this has felt like the longest, and that just seems unfair.  Perhaps because this is my last, it was made to feel this way so I could really savor it?  Or be happy I won't have to do it again?  (JK.  I love that I get to grow babies.  I just don't always love the stuff that goes with it)

So--on to the birth!

I decided my due date would be the 28th or 29th.  I wasn't sure which.  I just used all the information from the ultrasounds and other dates and that's what I decided would be most accurate.  On our chalkboard wall in the kitchen, when I wrote down the dates for May, I wrote the 29th.  My midwife, Karla, had me down for the 30th.  When people asked me my due date, it seemed to be really offensive that I didn't give them an exact date.  mwaahahahaa!

Now if anyone remembers or cares, my last birth, with bC was...hard.  Honestly, it traumatized me a bit.  After having 2 great births with luC and cC, bC's birth really threw me for a loop.  I did not want to give birth again.  I prayed, a lot, that I could get over it.  And it worked for a bit.  For a while there, his birth wasn't even on my radar and it was a nice little break from the realization that I was going to have to give birth again.  However, once I was at the end, it came back like a ton of bricks.

Since about 37 weeks on, I'd randomly have contractions in the evening sometimes.  Not little braxton hicks type contractions, but legit ones.  They would usually happen in the evening and then dwindle away when I went to bed.  So on the night of May 28th when I was having them yet again, I wasn't convinced that it meant anything.  I went to bed that night knowing that there was a real possibility that when I woke up at some point in the night to go to the bathroom that nothing would be happening.

However, when I woke up at about 3:00 a.m. to use the facilities, I had a couple contractions.  My contractions are never, ever, ever regular.  Seriously, in all of my 5 labors I can't say "contractions were 7 minutes apart, then down to 5, then down to 3..." etc.  With all 5 they are just all over the place.  Even knowing that, I still decided to see what was going on with the contractions.  The first few were 10 minutes apart.  Over the next hour and a half they ranged anywhere from that to 5, 6, or 7 minutes apart.

At around 4 a.m. that I texted my midwife, Karla, and let her know that I'd been having contractions since the night before.  I figured I'd at least give her a heads up in just case, so she'd be ready.  And then I decided to take a shower and have some string cheese.  Not at the same time.  I kept thinking that at some point juC would realize that I was using my tablet to track contractions and that I was up and about and took a shower.  But...he just snoozed away.

At about 5:30 I decided maybe I was tired enough to be able to sleep through these contractions.  The contractions were quite strong from the get-go, but I was tired.  If I was going to birth a baby, I was hoping I'd be able to get more than just the 3 hours of sleep I'd gotten so far.  I was able to sleep decently from 5:30 to 7.  I woke up several times to the contractions but was able to fall right back to sleep.  I even had a dream that I decided natural birth was for the birds, so I hopped in my car and went to the nearest hospital and kindly asked for an epidural.

A little after 7 a.m. I texted my midwife to let her know that I'd like her to bring the birthing tub soon.  The contractions were still erratic, but were now 3, 4, 5, or 6 minutes apart.  Knowing that with other births, getting up and moving around made the contractions stronger and things progress more, I did not dare move from that bed.  I was not getting up until the midwife was here and the tub was filled because I didn't want contractions to get stronger with out being able to be in the water.  But there was another part of me that worried that it would be like bC, and that I'd get up and move around and all contractions would just stop.  Since bC was born on a Sunday, and had a similar start to labor, I was having a bit of deja vu.

I'm not sure what time my midwife got here...maybe 8?  But her and juC worked together to get the tub situation worked out in the living room.  At some point she also checked my blood pressure and baby's heart rate.  In the mean time, juC had contacted his mom for her to come and get the kids.  And...I continued to stay in my spot in the bed for fear of things stopping or going too fast.  I also texted my mom and sisters to let them know that today may be the day.  And to please pray for me because I still didn't want to birth this baby.

The kids left at some point, I don't even remember when.  Then Karla let me know that the tub was filled and I was good to go.  So I finally got up and got ready before going out there.  I took my time, because, you know...fear and what not.  When I finally went out there Karla, her assistant, and the photographer were there.  I let Karla know that I was a little worried about getting in the tub because I didn't want it to slow things down.  I was so worried I was going to have another full day of stop and go labor like I did with bC.  I'm not one to get checked for dilation during pregnancy and birth because I feel like it messes with my mind too much.  But she suggested I be checked because she didn't want me to get in if I was less than 4 cm and have it slow things down either.  I hesitantly agreed and told her not to tell me what I was if it was 4 or less.

Thankfully...oh so thankfully, I was 7 cm.  So out I went and got in the birthing tub at about 9:40.

Now, I'm not going to lie.  It was a little weird having everyone right there on the couch while I was in the tub.  With my previous 2 water births, juC and I were up in my room while the team was downstairs and they didn't come until they heard me getting loud.  Not having a big enough room this time for the tub changed that.  It was nice to have some conversations in between contractions to take my mind off of things.  I was feeling a little more confident in giving birth, I'm sure because of the prayers being said on my behalf.  But there was still that part of me that was hesitant about how it would go and if I could handle it.

The contractions were strong, but I was able to just breath through them, as my midwife would sometimes speak in a calming voice.  At some point during this time, the other midwife showed up.  I just continued to do my thing and move around trying to find good positions.  juC sat quietly on a chair across from all the women and I couldn't help but laugh to myself that they probably thought he was the worst husband ever because he wasn't doing anything.  (Well, when I say wasn't doing anything, I just mean that he was on his phone or going and getting me things)  BUT...juC knows how I am.  When I'm in labor, I just do my thing.  It's how I've always been and he knows that, so in actuality, he's the perfect support person!

At some point the photographer mentioned that this was the most peaceful birth she'd ever been to.  juC and I assured her that when it got to the end, it wouldn't be so peaceful.  (I am woman, hear me roar!)  The contractions got to the point that I was being a little more vocal and having to work harder to manage it.  When I would breath through it, I alternated saying to myself "pain out, strength in" or "I am strong, I am open."  No clue where those came from, but, there they were.

I'd heard from others how great counter pressure on the hips is during contractions, so when the midwives offered, I was willing to try.  However, when they did it, somehow it made the pain even more intense, so that didn't work.  But as the contractions continued to get stronger, I couldn't help but think about last time and wonder how long I was going to have to endure this phase.

I knew from experience with my last births that I needed to kind of be upright for everything to be in the right position for the baby to move down.  I was trying to find a good position, and finally seemed to find it.  The contractions became so strong that I couldn't help but be vocal.  I knew she was still high, but, that's how my babies roll.  However, I finally felt like I was in a position for her to be able to move down.  For a couple contractions my body pushed a little bit, but then one contraction came and it meant business!!  I was loud and my body started pushing and my water broke, then I could feel her head moving down, then could feel hear head coming out.  Karla tried to get me to slow down but my body and that baby were like "Nope, it's happening people."  I don't know if it was one really long contraction or 2 just on top of each other, but all of a sudden, she was out and in my arms and somehow my thought process was "How in the heck was she completely born in one contraction?!"

About 2 hours after getting in the birth tub, she was born!  It was completely surreal how it all happened.  It was so nice to just have her in my arms and to know it was all over, and that I did it.  I conquered my fears.

And of course neC is the sweetest thing and the kids are so excited she's finally here.  I know she was meant for our family!

(Photo by Safe Haven Birth Services)

For the Love of Facebook

I have a love hate relationship with facebook.

Reason for the hate?  Well, there are several.  But one of the main ones is that I think people used to be way better friends to each other before facebook.  You know, when we used to actually call each other to find out what was going on in our friends lives.  Not just looking at facebook posts to see.

But that's beside the point.  Right now I love facebook.  Right now I am grateful for facebook.  Right now I feel so indebted to facebook.  Ok, not really.  Don't come knocking at my door looking for payment Mark Zuckerburg.

But I do love it at the moment and here's why.

A few months ago, when I found out that the blood clot (DVT) that was in my pelvis wasn't going away at all, I started to suspect I had something called May Thurner Syndrome.  The dumb-ed down version of MTS (I'm dumb-ing it down because it's the only way I know it, not because I think you need it to be) is that there are right main veins and left main veins, that go down into the legs, and the right main vein is compressing the left main vein, restricting blood flow.  Thus contributing to blood clots, and/or keeping the body from being able to naturally break the clot down.

So thanks to handy dandy facebook, I was able to ask a little bit about MTS on a support group for people with DVT.  Through my post asking about MTS, I connected with a girl in Texas.  She had a similar story to mine in that she was diagnosed with a very large blood clot soon after giving birth.  She told me that she ended up searching and searching and finally finding an amazing doctor in Pennsylvania who she flew up to see to get treatment for her clot, and he was the one who found she had MTS.  I appreciated her insight and let her know that if I was diagnosed with MTS, I'd probably have more questions for her.

Fast forward a couple months, and I was finally tested for MTS by having a ct scan, and found out I for sure had it.  Once again, I turned to facebook and a support group for folks with MTS.  The doctor I saw bombarded me with a list of things that were "wrong" with me when he gave me the diagnosis and I felt SO overwhelmed.  I asked questions on the support group, and was surprised to find that there was a doctor in the group who answered my questions.  And the more I asked, the more he answered.  The next week, I went to another doctor to get a second opinion.  This doctor had a completely different opinion and approach to my blood clot and MTS.  I left his office still feeling so upset.

The bottom line was that I was confused, uneasy, upset, and just didn't feel confident in either one of the doctors I saw.  The thought of either one of them doing a procedure on me just didn't feel...right.  Not that I think they are bad doctors.  Just that I didn't feel like they were right for my specific needs. So I came home so frustrated after seeing the second doctor.  I looked on the internet more for the specific kind of doctor I needed, and just wasn't finding anything and I felt so stuck.

Then that doctor on the MTS support group came to mind.  He's up at UPenn and I'd asked him the night before if he saw clients from out of state, just on a whim.  He was kind enough to send me a private message letting me know he did.  So, I called my insurance company.  He's a contracted provider.  I remembered the girl from Texas who fought hard to find a good doctor.  I contacted her again...it was the same doctor who'd been answering my questions!!  She loved him, and said she trusted him with her life.  It was clear to me that I needed to pursue treatment from him.  He and I messaged back and forth and he continued to be kind enough to answer my questions about what things I needed to send him and how long it would take.  He assured me that he'd review my scans within a day or two of receiving them and said that he'd let me know if he felt like he was the one that could help me.

As soon as I made the decision to pursue treatment from him, I felt completely at ease.  All of the worries and anxiety I had about it diminished.  I was able to go up and meet with him last week, where it only further confirmed that he was the right doctor for me.

And in a couple weeks I'll be heading back up to UPenn for him to do a procedure to open up the compressed vein and hopefully get rid of the issues I've been having with my leg.

All of this...thanks to facebook.  It's not often that I can clearly see how things came together perfectly and for my own good.  But this was a time when I for sure saw the hand of my Heavenly Father, perfectly orchestrating something just for me.  I am so grateful for the people that were put in my path and for being led the way I was.  And even though I often hate facebook and modern technologies, I know for sure things wouldn't have gone this way if it wasn't for them!

I'm the Reigning Queen

So here's the thing--

I say I will never do a lot of things.  And when I say I will never do those things, I mean it...with all my heart.  I will NEVER do it.  And then I do them.

I will never have a baby without an epidural.
I had 3 of my 4 without an epidural.

I will never have a baby at home.
I had my last two babies at home.

I will never have a minivan.
I have a minivan.

When I have kids, I'll never yelll.
hahahahaaahahahaaahaa!

I will never live in Manassas.
I live in Manassas.

I will never wear skinny jeans.
I wear skinny jeans.  I'm still in denial about it, though.

I will never buy kids music CDs for them to listen to in the car.
Our 6 disk changer in the car is almost fully loaded with kids music.

I will never join a gym.
I joined a gym.  Sadly, that was years ago, but if juC would let me, I would have already joined another one.

There's no need to continue the list.  Just know that there's a lot and I say it all to lead up to this one.

I will never move my family to Utah.  Never.  Never ever.  Never ever ever ever never ever never.
And here we are...right in the midst of getting our house ready to sell because juC has accepted a job in Utah.
And that is why I am THE Queen of Doing Everything I Say I Will Never Do.  Don't even try, the crown is mine!

A couple years ago, while visiting Utah, I took the above picture.  We were at a park.  It was a lovely park with slides and jungle gyms and water shooting up out of the ground (on purpose) and a big green hill for the kids to run up.  The sky was beautifully blue, the clouds in the distance were wonderfully fluffy, and the mountains were sitting there all majestically without even trying.  I sat there thinking, Utah sure is pretty!  And I couldn't help but snap picture after beautiful picturesque picture.

Over the last several weeks as this whole Utah thing has come to fruition, I keep thinking about that day at the park.

And living in Utah will come with other perks too aside from beautiful picturesque mountainous view parks.  We'll be close to family.  Lots and lots of family.  All over.  juC will have consistent hours at work that (hopefully) won't require phone calls on Saturdays and Sundays for leaky pipes at buildings, and having to go clean up messes at 10:00 at night.  The kids will be in schools that are NOT the school they are in now (huge bonus!)  And did I mention we'll be close to tons of family!?

So Utah.  I'm sorry I never wanted to move my family to you.  But I'm excited about the move after all.  So get ready for us.  And be good to us.  You've got approximately a month to prepare for our arrival.  Use your time well.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to say a lot of "I will nevers..." that I will end up doing, so that I can remain the queen.

P.S.  Virginia.  Oh dear, sweet, Virginia.  Please don't take offense to this.  I will forever and ever love you.  But I'll save that for a post just about you.

Shout out to Marjorie Pay Hinckley

I sent luC and cC down to the basement while I went upstairs to get the babe bC down for a nap.  As soon as I put him down in his crib I heard the cries of cC, getting louder and louder, as he made his way up the basement stairs.

When I came from my room he was standing at the gate to the upstairs crying his little head off.  luC, always willing to offer up what she did to make him cry, frankly told me that cC hit her so she hit him back.  

"You are older than him so you know..."
"I am fouw and he is two." she replied before I could even finish.
"Exactly.  That means..."
And once again before I could finish she interrupted again.  Placing her head closely beside his she said "And wew're the same size!"
"It doesn't matter if you're the same size.  You are older than him so you know better than him."
Completely not paying attention to me, "Fouw plus two equals....six."

I immediately thought of the quote that I have over on the left hand side of my blog by Marjorie Pay Hinckley.  “The only way to get through life is to laugh your way through it. You either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. Crying gives me a headache.” 

And since I've been doing more than my fair share of crying, especially lately and even this morning, I laughed...in my head.  Because the last thing I want is for luC to think that she needs to do this kind of stuff more to get a laugh out of me.  And because if I didn't laugh...in my head...I'd cry more.  And I didn't want that either.

Someone asked me recently what I felt the purpose of life was.  As I was giving my answer, one of the things I said was how I feel that we go through certain things for a reason, because there is something specific we are supposed to learn from it.  The hard part is when you are in the thick of it, and you are sitting there thinking "What am I supposed to learn from this?!  Why do I need to learn it?"  and wishing you didn't need to learn whatever it is you are supposed to be learning because the process for learning it is hard and not fun and on and on and on.  But whatever it is I'm supposed to be learning right now, I do hope I come out on the other side having actually learned it.  

So here I was, looking up the quote from Marjorie Pay Hinckley to write this post, so I could copy and paste it instead of type it out because I'm lazy like that, I read through her quotes.  She said some amazing, true stuff.  The kind of stuff you need to keep reading over and over again.  Especially when you want to cry instead of laugh.

Some of her quotes--
**Home is where you are loved the most and act the worst.  
(I can attest to this fact.  Especially right now.  Our poor family members in our home are usually the ones that pay the price for anything we're dealing with.)

**Be kind. Everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. 
(I truly feel like this is one of the things I needed to learn and am learning through this process.)

**There are some years in our lives that we would not want to live again. But even these years will pass away, and the lessons learned will be a future blessing. 
(I kept telling myself that this year was going to be better than last.  So far, that hasn't held true.  I know, it's all a matter of perspective.  But, I know this time will pass.  And that's something I keep having to remind myself.  And like I mentioned before, I hope I learn the lesson I need to so it can be a future blessing)

**Everything you are learning is preparing you for something else.  

Thank you, Marjorie Pay Hinckley, for coming into my mind when I needed you to.  Even if it was when my 4 year old was doing math that I needed you. Thank you for saying things, years and years ago, that I need to hear and remember now.  

And thank you to everyone I know that has gotten through trials..."big" ones and "small" ones, that are an example to me of getting through them, too.

A plea to the mothers

There's something that's been bugging me for a while.  6 years to be exact.

"Enjoy every minute of it because it goes by so fast."
"Enjoy it now because they won't always be this little.  And you're going to miss it."
"Enjoy them while they're little."
"It's so much easier when they are little.  When they are older is when it's really hard!  So enjoy it now"
etc, etc, etc.

They are well meaning comments.  I know that.  I really do.  But the fact of the matter is, they aren't really helpful.  In fact, for me, nothing is harder to hear when I'm having a hard time then "Enjoy it now."

Why is it hard to hear?  Because it makes me feel guilty!  I don't enjoy it when my kids scream their heads off at each other.  I don't enjoy it when they fight over every.single.toy. in the house that no one was interested in playing with until one kid happened to pick it up.  I don't enjoy taking my kids to the store and having them have a complete meltdown because I said "no" to something they wanted.  I don't enjoy having an audience for EVERYTHING I do.  (I've always wanted to be an actor and having an audience enjoy my work, but this isn't exactly what I was shooting for).  I don't enjoy fighting to get my 1st grader to do homework that he doesn't want to do because he's already been gone for 8 hours and he just wants to play.  I don't enjoy it when my kids repeatedly reject dinner because "they don't like" something they've never even tasted.

So when someone comes along and tells me to enjoy every minute, and I know I don't and won't enjoy every minute, I feel guilty.  It makes me feel like I'm doing it all wrong.  And someone is always around to tell me that something I'm doing is wrong, so it just gets put on the list of  "All the Things I'm Doing Wrong as a Mom."  It's a long list.  I already feel guilty for a lot of other things.  I don't need to feel guilty for not enjoying all of it, too.

But it goes beyond the guilt I feel when someone says it.  When someone tells you that "this is nothing" and to "just wait until they're older" because that's when it's really hard, it invalidates your feelings.  It's hard to basically be told that your feelings are invalid.  Because your feelings ARE valid.  No one can know exactly how you feel but you, and when someone is basically telling you that what you are feeling is wrong, it hurts.

I will always remember when I told someone that I am always told to enjoy it now because it gets so much harder when they're older she basically said "That's not fair.  They're both hard.  They're just hard in different ways. But it's still hard."  I can still hear her saying that to me when other people tell me differently, and I'll forever be grateful for it!

So my plea to you...all of you that have passed this particular phase in your life where you have young kids, is to please remember.  Please remember how it felt to you then.  Please remember how it felt to always have someone on you.  Please remember how it felt to constantly be asked for juice, or a snack, or a show.  Please remember how it felt when your kids fought all day long.  Please remember how it felt to be up several times during the night with a baby, and to then have to get up and face the day with all of your young children.  Please remember how it felt to try to talk and reason with little humans who don't even know how to fully express themselves or their wants.  And remember how it felt to just feel so overwhelmed with it all and to feel like it would never end (even though you knew it would).

And when you remember that, and then you hear a mom of young kids struggling, don't automatically tell them to enjoy it or tell them how much harder it is later.  Instead, it would be so meaningful for that mom to hear "I know!  It is hard!" and to just get some sympathy and understanding from someone who's been there and done that.  Because we know that it goes fast and that we'll miss it (well, as much as you can know when it hasn't actually happened but do know it does happen).  And we do know that there will be lots of huge trials when they are older (I'm already stressing about those days)(plus, I was a teenager/young adult once, and I remember what I was like.  yeesh! Not looking forward to being the one to deal with that!).  But what we need to know is that we shouldn't feel guilty and our feelings our valid, and we aren't the only ones who haven't enjoyed every moment of it, and that everything will be ok.  We will continue to enjoy the good, but we want to not feel bad about not enjoying the hard stuff, too.

Dos

Somehow over the past 2 years, cC has grown to be a 2 year old.  It's hard to believe that at this time 2 years ago, I was in denial about being in labor.

*photo by Mezzulo Photography

cC is one of the funniest kids I have ever known.  And I'm not just saying that because I'm his mother.  I have truly never known a kid at such a young age to have such an awareness of their humor.

He also has a sweetness about him.  He shows love and concern for others and does it so genuinely and tenderly.

He's still at an age that he loves helping.  And gets ridiculously upset if he's not allowed to help.  He loves to help wrap up baby bC.  He loves to take jC and luC their drinks.  He loves to throw away his diapers himself.  He loves to help clean the kitchen table.  He loves to get peoples shoes for them.  He loves to help fold blankets and put them on the shelf.

But then, I hate say it, but cC is also a bit of a bully.  He knows just got how to get under jC and luC's skin.  And when he starts, he won't stop!  Ok--admittedly, he does it to me and juC, too.  

Some of my favorite cC stories lately--

Last week, my visiting teachers were over and one of them has a son that is about 5 months older than cC.  cC accidentally ran into the other boy, and the boy started crying.  cC just stood there staring at him.  I told him to give him hugs and he did.  He was still crying and after a tiny bit of drool began to run down the boys chin, cC looked around, grabbed a burp cloth that was close by, and wiped the boys face.  The boy was so stunned by this, that he stopped crying.

A few weeks ago while my parents were here, luC was in the kitchen with her clothes for the day about to get dressed (don't YOUR kids get dressed in the kitchen?)  All of a sudden luC is yelling, something about her clothes.  Then cC comes running into the family room (I wish you could see his run.  That's reason to laugh in and of itself), huge smile on his face, with luC's clothes in his hand.  He runs straight to the ottoman and shoves luC's clothes under it.  

I can't help but share some bullying stories.  I know I shouldn't think these things are funny, but, they kind of are. 

 If he wants a big reaction out of luC, he knows the fastest way is to pull her hair.  And if he wants to get a reaction out of jC, he just needs to...well, do anything.  When luC watches tv, she prefers to stand a few feet in front of the tv.  And jC prefers to sit on a specific square on the couch, undisturbed.  cC still doesn't care much for watching tv, so when the kids are watching something, he has to do other things to entertain himself.  Like torturing them.  While luC is standing in front of the tv, he will come up behind her, unbeknownst to her, and yank her hair with all his might.  While she screams and cries, cC smiles and pulls her hair from his fingers.  Just when she calms down, he goes back for more.

If it's jC he's after, he'll just come and sit by him while he's watching a show.  Right.by.him.  jC hates it.  So then he starts freaking out and pushing cC away from him.  Which just fuels cC.  So then cC will start leaning on him.  Lying on him and being dead weight, making it really hard for jC to get him off of him.  Or lying down and putting his feet on jC's lap, followed immediately by kicking him with both legs.  It's pure pandemonium, and cC loves it.  Then loves to cry when jC has finally had enough and hurts him

But no matter what mood he's in, we love him dearly and are so glad that he's part of our family.   

Stop!

Every day at 1:00 p.m. is quiet time in our house.  cC naps, luC has to play in her room, and bC and I nap in my bed (usually).  The last 2 days I have so been looking forward to quiet time, as my eyes have burned with tiredness all morning.  (Not due to bC keeping me up at night, but I think due to the medication I'm taking.)  Then quiet time comes, and I lie in bed by bC and I just can't sleep.  I close my eyes and soak in the relief of my burning eyes finally resting, then I can't help but open them again and stare at bC.

For a few years now I've had my mind set on 5 children.  Everything about that just felt...right.  Which was a huge leap from after jC was born and I was convinced there was no way I could have more.

But over the last couple of months, all of that rightness has become uneasiness.  I obviously just had a baby, so I obviously have time to figure it all out.  However, I feel like I need to savor every single second in case I don't get to experience it again.  And also feel like I need to figure it out so I can mentally prepare myself for whatever outcome there is, because no matter what, it's going to be hard.

These are the days when I hate, hate my DVT.  These are the days when I feel like it's ruined everything.  These are the days when I just wish more than anything that I could go back in time and know what it was, what exact moment it was that caused my DVT, and do something differently in that moment to stop it from happening.

I'm mad that that my DVT leg is larger than my other leg and probably always will be.  I'm mad that I'm vain enough to care about my leg being larger than my other leg.  I'm mad that my leg feels heavy and gets swollen if I'm on my feet.  I'm mad that I can't exercise the way I want to.  I'm mad that I can't go for my walks like I used to.  I'm mad that if I were to have a 5th, like I thought I would, that it would mean shots in my stomach daily for over 9 months.  I'm mad that if I have a 5th, I'd be worried the whole time that in spite of the medicine, I might get another clot.  I'm mad that for the rest of my life, when I travel for long distances, I'm going to worry about getting another clot.  I'm mad that I have to worry about eating something that's going to affect my medication.  I'm mad that most of the day and especially at the end of the day, my leg feels heavy and achy like I've been exercising.  I'm just mad.  And I'm mad that I'm mad.  I'm mad that my last post was about how grateful I was, and that this post is about how mad I am.

And I'm mad that baby bC won't stop growing!  It frustrates me that I'm not enjoying this time like I should.  I feel like it's going by way too quickly, and that my mind is too many other places.  What if this is my last baby? What if these are the last days of me getting to feed a newborn, and rock a newborn to sleep?  What if this is the last time that I'm getting to experience the first smile, the first laugh, the first time rolling over, and the first steps?  I feel a little bit cheated that this is how I'm experiencing it.  I wish more than anything everything with my kids would just freeze for a little bit.  I just want everything to stop!

I know it doesn't sound like it, but I truly am grateful for so much.  But right now, I'm also just mad. So I guess for now, I'll keep staring at my sleeping baby whenever I actually get the chance to, and hope that some day soon I will change my attitude so that I can be more happy and not so mad.

One Month Ago--Bring on the Tender Mercies

One month ago today, I woke up, and could tell that something was definitely wrong.

After a few days of having horrible pain on my left side when I walked, I woke to find my left leg swollen and red.  Walking was more difficult, and my hopes I'd had before that whatever this pain was was nothing and would go away soon were gone.  

juC and I went to an urgent care place.  The doctor there said it looks and sounds like a blood clot, but they didn't have an ultrasound machine, and I needed to go to the ER for an ultrasound.  

Now, mind you, I had no idea what having a blood clot entailed.  So I was pretty calm for the most part, and was hoping to go to the ER and just get this over with.  Several hours later, after having an ultrasound, I was told that I had a blood clot in the deep (main) vein of my leg, from my pelvis to my calf.  Deep vein thrombosis.  

This past month has been hard because of my diagnosis and because of other reasons.  But I've tried really hard to think of all of the blessings that have happened.  The tender mercies in this process.  From Elder Bednars talk--"Through personal study, observation, pondering, and prayer, I believe I have come to better understand that the Lord’s tender mercies are the very personal and individualized blessings, strength, protection, assurances, guidance, loving-kindnesses, consolation, support, and spiritual gifts which we receive from and because of and through the Lord Jesus Christ."  

--juC was at home getting kids ready for bed when I was given my diagnosis.  I was able to get a message to him to have someone come with him as soon as he could come back to give me a priesthood blessing.  It was such a blessing to have a someone available at a moments notice to come with him to give a blessing.  And I am so thankful for a husband who was able to lay his hands on my head and give me a priesthood blessing.  The following Saturday I headed back to the ER again and I was able to get another amazing priesthood blessing before I went.  It again brought me much needed comfort.  And once again a couple weeks ago, when I was having a rough time and juC was at work, I was able to call on my bishop to give me yet another blessing, which again brought me the comfort that I needed at that time.  

--It was a huge blessing that so many people were available through the 24 hour period that I was in the ER and hospital to watch the kids at home.  With family so far away, I've always wondered how we'd manage in an emergency to have the kids taken care of.  There were so many that were willing to sacrifice their time to take care of the kids.  

--Baby bC was only 2 weeks old when all of this happened.  When I was told he couldn't stay with me in the hospital so I could nurse him through the night, I may have freaked out a little bit!  We'd had a rough road to nursing, and I didn't want it to be ruined.  The hospital was great about it, and provided a pump.  I was able to pump enough for the night before juC went home with him.  My next concern was bC taking those bottles during the night.  So very thankfully, he slept beautifully, and took the bottles with no problem.  And going back to what I previously mentioned, I was even able to find someone who was willing to stay the night at our house in case baby bC didn't take the bottle and juC needed to leave quickly to get him to me for a feeding.  

--I was by myself for a lot of the time I was in the hospital.  I am grateful for family and friends that were praying for me.  Because of those prayers, I didn't feel alone, even when I was.

--A lot of times I kind of hate facebook.  But I was grateful that when I was hanging out in a hospital room by myself, that I could post what was happening on facebook and I got lots of encouragement from so many friends.  It brought a lot of comfort.

--Anyone that knows me knows that I have serious issues with needles.  So finding out that I was going to be getting a shot in my stomach twice a day for the next week or so was probably one of the worst moments of this time.  Huge tender mercy--I had just had a baby so there was lots of extra fat and skin for these injections in my stomach.  One of the few times I've been thankful to have some extra pounds.  And another tender mercy--juC got some guidance on how to give the shot(no way I could do it myself!) so that it wouldn't hurt and burn as much.  He did pretty good!  There were a couple times that I wanted to cause him bodily harm because of how bad it hurt, though.

--One of the things that happens when you have DVT and are on meds is getting your blood checked regularly to make sure it's at the right "thinness".  The first family doctor I went to wasn't able to check it in the office.  So I was going to have to go to the hospital lab and have it drawn.  Anyone who's ever gotten work done at a hospital lab knows that there can often be a very long wait!  Cause that's what I want to do regularly with 4 kids.  After much searching and calling around, I was finally able to find a doctor who could do the testing and get the results right in the office and was able to see me soon, and actually had a nice office staff.  

--Soon after diagnosis, I joined a facebook group for people with DVT and PE (pulmonary embolism--when clots get in the lungs).  It's been a blessing and a curse.  I was a little discouraged hearing what others were going through...years after their DVT.  So many people were talking about how the initial pain they had when walking when they were diagnosed lasted for months.  I was so scared of that, and wondering how I would handle my responsibilities as a mother with this kind of pain.  I was so grateful that the pain gradually decreased over the next week and I have no pain when walking now.  I do have pain in my leg, especially when standing a lot.  But overall, it hasn't been too bad.  

--I met with a hematologist a couple weeks after diagnosis.  It was there that I found out that there are a couple genetic things that most likely contributed to my clot (along with pregnancy).  I found out that if I were to get pregnant again with in a year, I'd have to do the shot twice a day for the duration of pregnancy and 6 weeks after.  After a year, it'd be once a day.  As I mentioned before, me and needles...not friends.  To do shots daily for 10ish months in my stomach sounds a lot like torture.  Though this blood clot is a trial I have to endure, how very VERY thankful I am it happened after my fourth pregnancy.  I cannot even imagine if this had happened after my first and I would have been faced with these shots for any other children I had.  I know of someone who did it through 3 pregnancies and they are my hero!  

--Through all of this, juC has been absolutely amazing.  I cannot imagine going through this with someone else, because I don't think anyone else could have handled me and all of the responsibilities of the kids and work as well as him.  I always feel thankful to be married to him, but have felt even more so over this past month.  

--Baby bC has been quite possibly one of the hugest tender mercies of all.  I have felt overwhelmed, frustrated, sad, angry, etc etc for various reasons over the past month, but he's been amazing.  He is the sweetest baby and has had a calming effect on me.  I am so very grateful that I was blessed with him before going through this.  I am grateful that he is the baby that he is.  I've had some doozies of a baby before but he just goes along with all of this so nicely.  

Honestly, there are so many tender mercies, but these are the main ones that I've thought of often and have to keep reminding myself of when I start thinking of the negative.  I've had a lot of fears and worries over this past month.  I've kept thinking--I'm too young and active for something that could so negatively affect the rest of my life.  But I've had an overwhelming feeling and reminder that Heavently Father knows exactly what we need.  He knows the blessings we need but also He knows the trials we need.  And I do strongly believe that we do need trials even though I really wish we didn't.   We many not know why we need certain things, but He does.  It's definitely an exercise of faith and I'm often lacking in it.  It's easy to have faith when everything is honky-dory.  And it's easy to doubt when things aren't going the way we think they should and want them to be.    

I am infinitely grateful for my knowledge of a loving Heavenly Father who I know hears my prayers.  

Introducing bC

Wanna know how this little fella got here?

Before cC was born, I kept saying that the perfect scenario would be for me to be in labor during the day, but still go about doing what needed to be done.  Then after getting the kids in bed, birth a baby.  Well, my perfect scenario totally went down.

I figured if I could will it to happen that time, why not this time?  I decided this time it would be perfect to get a good nights sleep, wake up at about 5 a.m. to some contractions, have the baby by 10 a.m.  

I'd been having light contractions off and on for a couple weeks.  Before I went to bed on Saturday August 9, I was having light contractions.  I didn't get my hopes up too much, since that's what was going on the previous Saturday when I went to bed, and I woke up to nothing.

However, when I woke up just before 5 a.m. on Sunday to go to the bathroom, I was having contractions, and they were pretty strong.  I laid in bed for the next several hours, trying to sleep, but trying to pay attention to how far apart they were, and listening to the soothing sounds of juC snoring.  Since things progressed so quickly with cC once my contractions were strong, I didn't want to wait too long to let my midwives know and risk them not making it in time.  The contractions I were having were pretty intense from the get go, so I thought I had actually willed my perfect scenario into reality again.  

So at about 6:30 I texted my midwives to let them know I was having pretty strong contractions.  I figured I still had some time, so if they didn't get the text right away that was ok, and I'd call later if I felt the urgency.

A little after 7 a.m. I gave them a call.  The contractions were quite strong and since they live about 40 minutes away, I wanted to be on the safe side.

A little before 8:30 the first midwife arrived.  I was still in bed just trying to relax while I could.  She quickly listened to the babies heart beat, checked my blood pressure, etc, then said she'd get out of my hair and let me relax.  The other midwife arrived as she was finishing up, and they went down stairs to hang out and let me do my thing.

But that was the problem.  No "thing" was happening anymore.  I was able to sleep for a little bit, but in 2 hours time, I had maybe 2 faint little contractions.  What the heck?!  Soooooo...I guess no 10 a.m. baby after all?

Very sadly, I went downstairs and let my midwives know that it must have been a false alarm because nothing was going on.  They decided they'd pack up their stuff and be on their way.  They'd be around for a bit so if things changed I could let them know and they wouldn't be far.  I was still having some contractions but they weren't very strong, and were all over the place.  We got the kids ready, and a friend came and picked them up to have lunch at their house and to take the kids to church.  juC and I had lunch and there was just nothing going on.  I was so disappointed.  I went back upstairs to lie down.  

I'd also had this...fear... during this pregnancy.  Both luC and cC were pretty "easy" deliveries.  What if this one wasn't, and what if I couldn't handle it?  The contractions I'd been having in the morning were pretty strong and then just stopped.  Was this an indication of what was to come?  Were my fears about this coming true?

After lying down after lunch I rested a bit, and then started having some intense contractions again.  They weren't horrible, but they were just strong.  It was weird because with luC and cC, lying down would make contractions stop, and walking was what got them going strong.  But this time being up stopped them, and lying down got them going.  I texted one of my midwives to ask her what that meant, and she just said that my contractions were more effective when my body is relaxed.  I continued to have these contractions for a bit.  Then decided to take a bath to see if that would help, too.  

A little before 6 p.m. one of the midwives called to say she was headed back home, and we decided she'd come check in on me.  By the time she got here, my contractions were strong, and although not regular (my contractions never are!) they were close together at sometimes.  She checked my blood pressure and all that stuff again.  Then we talked about some of my fears.  This labor was already so different from my others, and I was just so thrown off.  We couldn't decide if she should stay or go since my contractions were all over the place.  I didn't want her to stay and nothing happen, but I also didn't want her to go and things happen quickly and she not be back in time.  She decided to go give the other midwife a call to talk it over with her.

While she was gone I talked to juC and asked him to pray about things and see if we should just go to the hosiptal.  I told him that I felt uneasy, and I couldn't tell if it was my own fears, or if I was being prompted.  He went and said a prayer, and said nothing about it, and seemed at ease.  Even though we didn't get a chance to talk about it, his demeanor was a comfort to me and I felt like even though it may be difficult, everything would be ok.

My midwife decided to check me for dilation to decide if she should stay or not..  She couldn't really tell where I was at, and decided that since my contractions were still far apart at times, and that I was still not having super strong contractions that she'd go.

About that time, the kids got home and it was time to get them ready for bed.  I decided that I'd take another bath since the contractions had picked up again before the midwife came and hopefully the bath would help move things along again.  I got up and was walking around doing different things, but was having to stop every 2 to 3 minutes because a contraction would come, and since getting up, they were getting even stronger.  They continued to be close together so at 8 p.m. I called my midwife back and said "ummm...I think you need to come back."  

Dang it!  It had better be real now, since she was on her way home to get dinner since she hadn't had anything yet.  I did wait until my midwife got here, though, before getting in the tub.  With cC, I got in the tub and he was born about 15-20 minutes later.  

I believe she got here at about 8:20.  I got in the tub, and contractions started getting stronger.  Like ridiculously stronger.  After having intense contractions all day, I really thought this had to go quickly.  After a little bit, the other midwife got here.  They were hanging out downstairs and would occasionally come in to check the babies heart rate.  

I obviously wasn't staring at a clock during all of this, but g'zz Louise, it seemed to be going so slowly.  I was having a really hard time getting comfortable, and the contractions were getting so strong, but nothing seemed to be happening.  The only progress that seemed to be happening in that room was juC progressing in his facebook stalking of all of his friends.  Otherwise, it seemed as though nothing was being accomplished.

I thought for sure that with as strong as the contractions were, this baby would be coming soon.  But the urge to push still wasn't there even though the contractions were so strong.  I still couldn't find a comfortable position and my legs were tired from all of the semi-comfortable positions I'd been in.  Slowly, but surely, the urge to push came.  Now, mind you, my previous 2 births went ridiculously fast once pushing began.  That's what I was used to, and mentally prepared for, but was worried wouldn't happen.  My babies are always "high" and with cC it was about one push to get him "low", about one push to get his head out, and about one push to get his body out.

bC, however, not so much....

It seemed as though my body was pushing and pushing, and no progress was being made.  I still couldn't feel him coming down.  I honestly was feeling defeated, and mentally couldn't wrap my mind around why nothing was "happening".

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I could feel him moving down and could tell he was close.  Still it took several pushes and his head started coming out, but slowly.  After his head was out, surely the rest would be quick right?  Yeah...not so much.  Contractions one after another and several pushes later, he wasn't budging.  It became clear to my midwives that his shoulder was stuck.  After efforts to free his shoulder where I was in the tub weren't working, I had to quickly get out so that they could free him.

I won't lie to you folks,  I have never experienced so much pain.  I will spare you the details, but freeing a shoulder of a birthing baby isn't rainbows and roses.   It was about 5 minutes from the time I felt his head emerging to the time he was born, but it felt like a lifetime.  He needed oxygen, but soon after they laid him on me he began crying...and crying and crying (another thing my other babies didn't do).

There is something truly amazing about the things you are feeling during birth, and then the instant relief that is felt as soon as the baby is born.

Now, if you are still with me... It was an intense birth.  Thankfully (although I wasn't feeling thankful at the time) I'd read a book by Ina May Gaskins that had a lot of home birth stories in it.  As I read the stories, which I read thinking I'd find inspiration, I was feeling all sorts of scared about my upcoming birth.  Sure, I'd done this before, but these stories I was reading were freaking me out, man.  So many stories were about women who had previous births go quickly and smoothly, and then had super difficult labors with a 3rd or 4th baby.  Several were about a baby whose shoulder got stuck during delivery.  It all just freaked me out.

But I am so glad I read those stories.  In those intense moments when we were all panicking a bit, I could remember those stories, and remember what needed to be done, and was able to focus and do what was best.  I think leading up to his birth that I could sense something was off and that's where my anxieties were coming from, but also knew that it would be ok.  I could sense that things were going to be much more difficult than before, but could sense that we would get through it.

Every time I experience a new life coming into our family, I can't help but feel overwhelmed at how amazing it is.  I don't know how anyone can experience it and not know that we have a loving Heavenly Father.  I am so thankful for these fresh from heaven little ones that remind me how amazing life is!  I am so thankful that I have been able to experience fresh from heaven little ones 4 times!  There's nothing like it!

(side note--Finding someone to take pictures during the birth...best decision ever!  I love the moments and images that were captured!  Thank you Caroline Hefner Photography!)

Not sure where jC's story is.
luC's story--http://itsmeanic.blogspot.com/2011/01/shes-here.html
cC's story--http://itsmeanic.blogspot.com/2012/11/all-about-birth.html

Schools (almost) out for the SUMMER!

After little jC is done with school today, he will have 4 days left of school.  And to be totally and completely honest, I'm having very mixed feelings about this.  To be totally and completely honest, jC is a pretty difficult kid to keep entertained.  He always needs someone to play with, he always wants to be going and doing something, or it's just not good enough for him.  And when you DO actually take him to go and do something, he can be a little...under-satisfied.  And he's not afraid to show it.  Add on top of that the fact that when he's done with school I will be 33 weeks pregnant and a million and two degrees outside, it adds a whole new level to the stress I feel of keeping him and 2 other kids entertained for a summer.

So with all of that negative mumbo-jumbo out of the way, I'm trying to focus on all of the *positives* to him being out of school.  Because there certainly are some good things about it!

-No more homework!!!  I've said it before, I'll say it again, and I'll never change my mind about it--Kindergartners having homework is wrong.  WRONG people!!  I'm so glad we will have a break from that blasted nightly homework!!

-No more having to wake him up every morning and having him say "But I'm still tired."  I'm a huge believer in sleep.  HUGE!  And I'm a huge believer in not waking up sleeping children.  Having to wake him up every morning to get him ready for school was so hard!

-I can stop doing laundry!  Ok, I won't stop.  But it will be nice to not have to worry day to day if he has clean clothes to wear to school the next day and hurrying to get laundry done.  And if he happens to wear dirty clothes, there probably won't be other people around to notice that he's worn the same thing consecutively and that there are stains on it.

-No more packing lunches!  I don't know why, but this stressed me out a bit.  Even though he had THE SAME THING...EVERY  DAY.  I always worried I'd some how forget to put something in his lunch.  In fact, I did forget his apple sauce one time.  Sure, having to figure out what he'll have for lunch each day at home won't be a walk in the park, but for some reason it doesn't seem like quite as much pressure.

-No more restaurant fund raisers!  The "cool" thing to do is have a restaurant agree to have a night where when people came to eat there and mention the school, half of the price would go to the school.  I swear there were weeks and weeks in a row that fliers were coming home for a different restaurant each week.  And jC thought we needed to go to each and every one of them!  Oh the tears and frustration when we didn't go to them all.

-Ok, I know you don't want to hear about this one, but I have to add it to the list.  Because if this was a true legitimate list, where I was putting them in order, this would be at the very top of things I'm soooo glad I don't have to deal with anymore.  --No more having jC have to do the doo RIGHT when he needs to be getting out the door to catch the bus.  It's nearly a daily thing at this point that he waits until about 10 minutes before he needs to go catch the bus to say "My tummy hurts".  And seeing as how it takes him a good 10-15 minutes, it just doesn't work.  So, so, so, so, so glad to not have to deal with that for a bit!

Now that I've said the #1 reason, it's hard for me to think of anything else.  It's so hard to believe that kindergarten is almost over and next year he'll be a 1st grader.  It's hard to believe that just 5 short years ago, (almost exactly to the day) he was this little guy...

and now he's already this big guy...

I'm not going to lie.  It hurts my heart a little bit.  It's exciting to see him growing and learning, but it's also so hard.  But whether I want it to happen or not, it is.  And whether I want summer to come or not...it is.  Really, really, really soon!

Celebrate good times! Come on!

It's still the month of May, so even though it seems like forever (FOREVER!) ago that we celebrated our anniversary and juC's birthday, I'm considering it totally legit that I'm just now posting about it.  I'm going to blame my lateness on cC.  I totally could have posted this last week, but, he has decided to not go down for naps.  The last time he took a nap was last Monday.  So that means we are 8 days in a row with no cC naps, which means no free time during the day for me, which means no time for organizing a post.  And also, very sadly, means that I haven't been able to get my normal naps.  And let me tell you folks, it's not a pretty situation.  Not pretty at all.

So now I'm just neglecting luC and cC so I can do this post.

But back to the point!


On May 5, all of Mexico celebrated the 7th anniversary of the day that juC and I were wedded.  It's always nice to know that we have so many people celebrating with us!

All I wanted to do for our anniversary was have the whole family go to the tulip festival so I could get some fabulous pictures of the kids with the fabulous colors of the flowers.  Unfortunately, cC wasn't having it, and the pictures of the kids were all some form of this:

 The good news was I got some super amazing maternity shots.  And by "super amazing" I mean this:

Oh, and it also started pouring rain while we were there.  So that was awesome, too.  My anniversary adventure was not going as I'd planned.

Then we went to Chili's for dinner.  What else would we eat on our Cinco de Mayoversary?  It was when we were dining on our anniversary with these crazy kids that it dawned on me...

..wedding anniversaries are something completely different when 3 small kids are involved.  

The good news is that a week and a half later, while juC's parents were here, we got to celebrate right.  And by "celebrate right" I mean go on an over nighter that pretty much revolved around what restaurants we'd eat at.  

For dinner we ate at a lovely Italian restaurant.  And for lunch the next day we ate at a place that was a shoot off of a chocolate candy store.  It was on our little anniversary trip that I learned that juC and I don't take pictures together anymore.

In between our family anniversary celebration, and our legit anniversary celebration, we had an awesomely legit birthday celebration for juC.

I decided to help him out and get him a real sized grill, instead of the tiny wittle travel grill he'd been using.  I know, I'm so nice.  We set it up in the backyard, and the kids were so excited to stand there and wait for juC to walk around back coming home from work and surprise him.

 Then it was time for perfectly handmade birthday cards, puuuurfectly store bought cards, and a present.  And by a "present" I mean a cover for the grill.  Because it was the only logical other thing to get him.

 And then, of course, it was cake time!

Though the highlight of juC's birthday, for me, was the following night when we dined at a Tex-Mex eating establishment.  During one of the kid bathroom trips, I made sure to tell our super-trying-to-get-a-good-tip-waiter that it was "Dad's" birthday, as the waiter so affectionately called him.

So the highlight was when the severs were all rounding the corner clapping their hands, preparing to sing "happy birthday" and juC started dancing, having no clue that they were headed to him!  When I started laughing his response was "What?...Wait...they aren't coming to me are they??  You didn't!!"

Oh, how I wish I could have captured a non-blurry picture of the events.

Lest I not write about our month of May celebrations, and not include Mother's Day.  juC knows how to celebrate me right.  I was awoken to little voices our room, and juC standing there with the kids and this fabulous breakfast.  I can't remember what he made me for dinner, but I know that was good, too.   And good food is all that really matters in my book.

I'm thankful for juC and that each May I get to celebrate our anniversary, his birthday, and Mother's Day with him...and our crazy kids.  

Thirty Six

I say it every birthday.  I love birthdays.  Love 'em.  Almost as much as a love the person that's celebrating a birthday today.  I guess this is the week for sappy posts, because I've decided to do a post of 36 things I love about juC.  It will be hard to narrow it down.  But...I will do my best to keep it at just 36, as he enters his 36th year.

1.  I love that he is a good sport with some of my crazy ideas.  Like when we used to go bowling, and I had the rule that any time you roll a gutter ball, you have to do one roll on your pants leg.  I won't complain that he should have continued to roll up one leg until it wouldn't roll anymore, but would always divide it between the two legs.

 2.  I love that he doesn't complain when I probably don't meet his expectations.  I hate to admit how many times he's come home to me having no idea what's for dinner and not really wanting to make anything.  He doesn't complain.  (well, he doesn't complain about me, to me.)  I appreciate that.

3.  Along the same line, I love that he doesn't make me feel bad when he comes home and finds that I'm still in my pajamas.  Being pregnant or having a small baby during most of our marriage means that it's happened a lot.  He never makes me feel bad about it.  That's love.

4.  I love that he kills bugs for me.  Remember the spider outbreak in our basement apartment!?  That was the scariest time of my life.  And here he was, kindly going around and spraying to ward off those horrible things!

 5.  I love that he never yells at me.  I cannot think of a single time in our 9 years of dating/marriage that he's yelled at me.

6.  I love that he takes his job as provider for our family so seriously.  I love that I get to stay home with our kids and that he wants to do it for us.

7.  I love that he is willing to do all the silly things that I want to do.  Like when I insisted we make a gingerbread house...before we even had kids.

 8.  I love that he can fix things around the house.  It's so nice to have a husband that knows how to do things.  And if he doesn't know how to do it, he will figure out how with the aid of google and youtube.

9.  I love that he smells good 99.5% of the time.

10.  I love that he calls me babe.  There aren't many pet names that I think I'm ok with, but babe is a good one.  It makes me fell like...a babe.

11.  I love that he takes the trash out.

12.  I love that he bakes things for me.

13.  I love that he's frugal.  Ok.  He's not always frugal.  But it definitely helps when he is.

14.  I love that he always wants to help people.  It's not always convenient for me, and sometimes it feels a little frustrating.  But if anyone needs anything, he always wants to be the one to do it.  He's a great example of being selfless.

15.  I love that he helps me clean when I ask for help.  Or beg for help.  Or demand help.

16.  I love that he takes care of me when I'm sick.  He's a good nurse.

17.  I love his smile.  It's the best!

 18.  I love that he is the most patient person I have ever known in my whole entire life.  I don't think there's another person out there with as much patience as him.  And it just so happens that he married the person with the least amount of patience of anyone out there.  Lucky me, poor him.

19.  I love that he gets all of my jokes...most of the time.  And that he thinks I'm funny.  It's a nice little ego boost when others don't.

20.  I love that he's been so good with me about choosing baby names.  It's always been a very easy process for us.  Hearing the horror stories of others reminds me of how lucky I am that he is the way he is.

21.  I love that he has a sweet tooth just as bad, if not worse, than me.  Then I don't feel so bad!

22.  I love that he makes the best out of bad situations.

 23.  I love that he lets me have time to myself when I need it.  Which is probably more than I should need, but he lets me and I am so very thankful.

24.  I love that when I want to take ridiculous pictures, he goes for it.

 25.  I love that he takes the kids with him when he goes places.  They always want to go with daddy, and he's usually willing to oblige.

26.  I love that he helps with bath time and bed time.  So, so, so very thankful for that!

27.  I love how hot he is with a beard.  Even though he can't have one right now.  It's still good to know.

28.  I love that he's so...just...nice.  For example--today is his birthday.  Today is also the day of my prenatal yoga class at 5:45.  I can miss the class, but I paid for a certain number of classes, so if I miss it it's kind of like paying for it but not getting it.  I can make it up with another class, but there aren't a lot of other classes that are prenatal friendly.  If it was my birthday, I would absolutely make sure juC clears his schedule so it can be all about me.  However, juC has willingly said that he is fine with me still going, and he will make the kids pizza, just like he always does on yoga Thursdays.  That's just the nice kind of guy he is.  When I said it wasn't fun for him, he said "It's fine."  I guess this is more of an example of why he's a better person than me.

29.  I love that sometimes when he has meetings at night, he brings a treat home for me.

30.  I love that he gives me a kiss and tells me he loves me every morning before he goes to work.  Even luC has noticed it.  And if he leaves later when the kids are awake and luC doesn't see him do it, when he walks out the door she says, "Daddy didn't love you!" all concerned.

31.  I love that he does his own laundry.  (OK, this list is making me look like a really, really lazy wife!  Sorry juC!)

32.  I love that he talks to the babies in my belly with a weird voice.

33.  I love that he makes me laugh so much.

34.  I love that he is such a good dad.

35.  I love that he doesn't look at day over 29.  I think we really throw people off.

36.  I love that he married me and that he is happy with being married to me.  Older, experienced men always tell younger men to marry up.  I guess juC decided not to follow that advice because I'm definitely the one that married up.  

Although juC keeps inching closer and closer to 40, which just sounds SO old, I still love him for so many reasons.  In spite of my yoga tonight cutting into his evening, I hope I can do my part and make this day special for him.  He deserves a day to feel loved and appreciated and celebrated.  And hopefully I can do that for him!  

I love you dearly sweet little juC!