The End of an Era

I've been whispering this to close friends, afraid to shout it from the rooftops like I truly wanted to do.  It's still early, and I'm still reserved about saying it out loud, but the fact is, it only gets better with each day.

We are officially a home with no diapers or pull-ups.

Oh, sure, we have all been sporting underwear during the day for over a year, but this is about being done at night time, too!  All five kiddos.  Well, Joshua and me, too, if we're talking about ALL of us.

3,952 days.

That's our official count.  From day one of the first child to the last day of pull-ups for the last kid.  For most of that, we had multiple children in diapers at the same time.  I clearly remember the days of three kids in diapers and how we switched to cloth diapers.

I'll miss the sweetness of a padded little bottom a bit.  But I'm loving the milestones, achievements, and explorations of my big kids. 

Dear My Brave Anna

Dear Anna,
You're amazing.  This past week has been a rough one for you, and you handled it like a champ.

On Monday, you were sent to the ER with extremely high blood sugar levels.  The folks in the ER took stock of what was going on with you and we were admitted to a room where you received finger pricks and insulin shots and I curled up next to you and slept with you all night.  Daddy was close by on the couch because neither one of us wanted to leave your side.  The needles scared you and made you cry and it all hurt our hearts so much.

 Tuesday was a parade of dieticians and diabetes trainers and sweet family and friends coming through your room to see you.  We also got to see Santa Claus!!

On Tuesday evening, I gave you your insulin shot.  You were so brave, sweet girl, and I was and am so thankful that this particular shot brought no tears to your sweet eyes. 

Your sisters and cousin Layla came to see you and were all so relieved to see how well you were doing.  The girls chose to stay with Daddy that night so they could spend the next day with you.  They were very concerned about you still.  I curled up with you again and we slept between the nurses coming in to check on you.

On Wednesday, you started doing your own finger pricks.  I'll admit to biting back tears while your eyes shimmered with pride.  Daddy learned to give you your injections and nurses started saying maybe we could go home.  Sure enough, because you were so brave and so willing to help us take care of you, they let us go home that afternoon.

Anna, it's hard for your Mommy and Daddy to know that our little girl will have to deal with this disease called diabetes the rest of her life.  But baby girl, this is the Lord's plan for you and He's had it in His hands all along.  He KNOWS the plans He has for you, Anna.  Plans not to harm you but plans for your future.

And Mommy and Daddy?  We're just thankful we get to be a part of your story, the one He created especially for you, Little One. 

Eleven

Eleven years of being married to his man. 

And they just keep getting better. 

I heard people say that to us as they congratulated us as newly engaged or newly married, but I don't think my head was really convinced that the year-after-year life with my sweetheart could really get better. 

But it does.

I'm still so very glad it's you, sweetheart.

And Then We Went On Vacation

Sunset walks on the beach.

 

Playing in the water.

 

Catching sand crabs after bedtime.

Sand castle building.

Getting pet hermit crabs.  Sleeping in late.  Salt water taffy.  Having (big!) televisions in every bedroom.  Getting to eat whenever we wanted.  Doing math by the pool.  Looking out the top of the ship (we spent a day at the USS Alabama).  Playing Breaker Ball (a game they all created).

These are the things my kids shouted out when I asked them what their favorite parts of our week at the beach were.

For me, it was watching my kids enjoy these things.  It was seeing them play for hours in the sand creating all manner of castles, forts, rivers, and writings.  It was listening to them scream and squeal as they ran into the waves or body surfed the breakers.  It was seeing their skin become increasingly sun-kissed and their hair lighten.  It was how they fell into bed all yawns and giggles each night.  

It was spending time with my people.  It was greatly lessened responsibilities.  It was having the opportunity to settle in and just watch and listen and learn about my kids.  To hold hands and meander about.  To chat about things deeper than the ocean as we floated out past the breakers. 

It was an afternoon spent wandering a local festival with my sweetheart.  It was waking up to greet the sunrise with him, and trying to catch teensy sand sharks with him and my sister and brother-in-law after the kids were all tucked into bed.

 

In short, it was pretty spectacular.  

 

Thanks, Mom and Dad.  This big family vacation was better then I could have ever imagined.  

Back To School We Go!

We officially started school on July 14th.  It was definitely a soft launch, but since we've basically been done with school since mid-March, it was time to put some routine back in our days!

Our official First Day of School picture!  It was a good day - can you tell?

We went to a homeschooling convention in early June and I'd had all of our curriculum on hand long enough to plow through the teacher's manuals and wrap my brain around the first six weeks of school.  I'd even found a homeschool planner that looked promising (turns out I love it lotsly)!

Our grade breakdown this year is Thomas and Sarah Grace in 5th, Elizabeth in 2nd, Anna in 1st, and Daniel in keep him occupied so he doesn't get into anything mode pre-school.  Once upon a time, school started at 10, lunch was at 11:30, nap was at 12:30, and that was all we had on the official schedule.  As Thomas and Sarah Grace have gotten older, however, our school takes a little longer each year.  Plus, there are two other students... and Daniel. 

Y'all, don't underestimate the mischief level of a three year old.  Just. Don't.

All that to say, when we started out, school took less than two hours a day... and that included LOTS of reading to them all.  Nowadays, school takes closer to six hours... more, depending on attitudes and what day of the week it is.  Our current daily schedule looks something like this.

It's been tweaked a time or two since we started, but I think we might be on the final rendition.  Time will tell, as it always does! 

Our curriculum choices changed a little this year.  Nothing major, but that's a post for another day (given the regularity with which I blog these days, you better message me if you are serious about hearing about those changes!)  In the mean time, here's another picture. 

 Our morning meeting this year, officially named Convocation (that's a blatant rip-off from LL.  Thanks again, friend!!), is more varied and we are LOVING it!  I can't wait to share more about it, but for now, here's another picture of some of the items we are using for August.  (I know, I'm making bloggy promises.)

I pick on our poor Daniel, though I really shouldn't.  He does manage to find mischief, but it's generally the innocent, curious kind.  However, it is still in my daily schedule (see above!) to keep him occupied the vast majority of the time.  When he works with Sarah Grace, they do colors and sorting and puzzles and such.  He was give a fabulous little toy box/bench/desk for his birthday and a lot of his morning revolves around that little bench.  His favorite toys are in it for play time, and for school, we drop the desk part down and he has a roomy surface to work on.  (Thanks Aunt Amy and Uncle Anthony!)

Anna is taking her school very seriously this year - usually in a pink tu-tu and pixie wings.  She's a December baby, but as any homeschooling mama knows, age is not what defines a kindergartner.  Anna declared last fall (at age 4) that she would start school, and she completed all her kindergarten credits and has been passed on to first grade!  She works hard and is LOVING handwriting.  Girlfriend is all about learning to write letters to people, so be watching your mailboxes

In the middle of the morning, all the older kids are sitting at the table doing various assignments and Daniel is hovering around me while begging for food.  Because that is what he does if he's awake.  I pull him up in my lap and read to him while the other kids work.

New homeschoolers ask me all the time if I think a school room is necessary.  Here's the answer, folks:  No.  A school room is NOT necessary - unless you're like me.  I'm the kind of girl who needs the school room scenario.  My kids don't always work at that table (usually, but not all the time), but for my oh!-look-a-squirrel little self, I work best in a space that's dedicated to the education of my kids.  Plus, we had this weird room (it's supposed to be a formal living room, but that's not my life) that needed a purpose.  Perfect storm, right?

It's a full day every single day, but at the end, they sit on the couch for an episode of Wild Kratts while I check their work and hide behind my computer screen. 

I love how they sit in birth order.  It just cracks me up.  I also love how Little Mister Energy sits ready to jump and go the second it looks like the show is over!  

 

 

And this?  This is what we had for dinner one day.  Dinner, yes.  Because some days are longer than others and we all need a treat at the end just for not inflicting bodily damage upon one another.  Right?

I'd Do It All Over Again

Ten years ago, a young girl married a young guy.  They got all dolled up in their lovely wedding dress and handsome tux, made deep heart promises, ate delicious cake, and ran to the get-away car through a shower of brightly colored fall leaves tossed at them by loved ones from near and far.  They sat back and giggled as they envisioned their happily ever after.

 And, y'all, it came true. 

Sundays

Hands down, Sunday morning is one of the most exasperating times of our week.  You'd think that getting ready for church would be just as joyful as being there, singing His praises and visiting with the church family.

And if it's like this in your house, I am truly thankful that your mornings are smoother than ours.  I hope that  you never experience the types of crazy that we have every.single.Sunday.morning here in our home.

We can have plenty of time to get ready or be in a time crunch, it doesn't matter: The part between waking and walking through the doors of the church is always the same.

G.R.O.W.L.Y.

And generally not in small ways.  There are tears and yells and looks of disbelief and mad scrambles.

We pack our church bags the night before, I know what everyone will wear, and breakfast is made well in advance.

Yet, inevitably, by the time we get in the car to go, I feel like a giant hypocrite for pasting on my smiley 'church face' knowing that I was threatening my children with their very freedoms just minutes before.  I spend a moment or two pleading for peace so that people might not realize just how dysfunctional our morning has been.

But you want to know what?  It's okay.  It's okay because we don't give in.  We don't stay home just because of the ugly.  We push through and we get everyone to church and breath in the holy of the gathering of His people.

Just like that, by His strength, we have pressed back the Enemy again.  Satan may have thrown his nasty curve ball, but Jesus batted it right out of the ball park and we all ran home, grateful for a time of celebrating the day and being thankful for all that He has done for us, all the He is doing for us, and all that He has promised to do for us.

Anna Is 4!

I've been spending all afternoon perusing through Anna's baby posts.  Y'all, I forgot how much that kid loved to be held! 

She still does.  Perfectly cuddly, that one.

She's spunky and opinionated and wears her heart on her sleeve. 

She has a quick sense of humor that keeps all of us giggling. 

Her imagination knows no bounds.

She loves to sing and to make up stories.

She adamantly refused to not do school this year and pushes to do more every day.

She is fierce and determined to have her way.

Her attachment to Taggie is paralleled only by her independence. 

I told Joshua when I was pregnant with her that she was different from the others.  She is very much her own person.

A person we love to giggle with and cuddle with and listen to.  Happy Birthday, Anna Joy!!

Survival Mode

We dated for a sweet forever and then planned a wedding in 4 short months.  We had vaguely outlined our plans for a family.

We hosted Thanksgiving for 13 after a month of marriage,  Christmas was celebrated and before just New Years, barely two months into marriage, I told Joshua we were expecting our first child.

It wasn't our plan.  We walked around dazed.  We said two years, not two months.  

Thomas arrived not quite 10 months after the wedding.  Things were complicated at first.  Not long term complicated like the paths so many have walked, just a little complicated.  He was a sick baby and had to have constant attention and numerous doctors visits until finally the diagnosis was given.  About the time he healed from his surgery and we were finding a groove, we discovered we were pregnant.  Again. 

Sarah Grace was due on his first birthday.  Less than 22 months after we'd exchanged vows. 

19 months after that, Elizabeth arrived. 

Another 19 months went by, and Anna was born. 

Fast forward 29 months and Daniel joined in the mix.

When Daniel was born, we'd been married for 88 months.  Of those 88 months, I'd been pregnant for 45 months.  We'd had a baby in the house for 78 months of our marriage.  We'd been preparing for or caring for a baby for 86 months of our 88 months together. 

Those are hard numbers, y'all.  I'm not gonna lie.  

Here are some more hard numbers - 6 years, 5 years, 4 years, 2 years, newborn. 

Those are the ones that nearly sunk me.  I trusted God, but I wasn't dealing well with the day to day reality of what He'd given us.  It's a lot.

The past two years have been the hardest of my life.  My pregnancy with Daniel while trying to keep up with the needs of my four other very young children pressed hard on me.  The week leading up to his birth?  Hardest physical demands I've ever had to answer to (you simply have to read Daniel's birth story to understand that statement).  Childbirth was a piece of cake after that insane week.  Caring for a baby with a 'strong personality' these past 18 months and maintaining my role as mommy to 4 other children, wife to my husband, and keeper of my home?  Hard.  Hard, hard, hard.

We call it Survival Mode.  And our entire marriage has been just that: Survival Mode. 

Go ahead and chide me if you need to.  I've broad shoulders and can bear it.  I've also the knowledge of what living in Survival Mode is like. 

I know the demands.  I know the rawness of born of exhaustion.  I know the darkness of depression.  I know the hurt of failed friendships.  I know the frustration of changed plans.  I know feeling trapped.  I know helpless.  I know fear. 

But I also know the triumphs.  I know the chinking away of selfishness.  I know the balm of an encouraging note.  I know the grace He pours over a weary heart.  I know joy.  I know peace.  I know His ways are not mine, but He is my hope, and if I but trust Him, He will make straight my paths. 

Joshua and I laugh when we tell people that we didn't plan our family, but that God did it for us.  We KNOW that His ways were to our benefit.  We KNOW we are rotten, selfish people and that our faults and weaknesses are too many to number.  It's scary, really. 

I really believe that God gave us our children in His timing and not ours because He knew that we really had some rough edges that needed to be sanded down.  He also knew that those rough edges were only going to become more jagged if He allowed us to have our plan.  He knew that if He'd given us those 'couple of years' we would have been doing our children more of a disservice  than we already are, making it even harder for them to see Him in us.  And because He's not a God of confusion, He didn't want that for the precious children He had planned for us.

So I'll take these past nine years and be thankful for the stresses and the hard times and the tears.  It's grown us, molded us into who we are now. We've had to let go of a lot, re-shape our minds and clean out our hearts.  We've been blessed beyond measure with the people God has put in our path.  Just the right person at just the right time every. single. time.  Things have been full tilt and cry-your-eyes-out hard.  We haven't planned our lives so much as we have chased after the leash of our lives, but we're in a place of grace.  We're in a place where we can see His sustaining hand through the crazy.

For our ninth anniversary, we had the chance to talk and plan and really think about what we want to do as a family and with our family and for our family.  We were able to finally sit back and breath deep and look over where we've been, where we are, and where we'd like to go.  We hold these plans loosely, but we have them in place.

In His good and perfect will, of course.  

Pictures courtesy of N&N Photography

 And y'all, it is good.

Thomas - The Great Eight

We put our two seven year olds, our five year old, our three year old, and our one year old to bed last night.  When we woke up this morning, we were missing one of those sweet seven year olds; a quicker-than-my-camera-skills eight year old came busting out of the room that had been the home of our gone forever seven year old.

He's pretty proud to be numerically older than his sister again.  Those few days out of the year get him every time!

He's plotting every moment of his year as an eight year old and all the things he intends to accomplish.  I'm here cheering him on, for the most part.  My heart nearly pounded straight out of my toes when he announced his intention to learn to ride a motorcycle.

I'll break it to him later the fact that he'll be doing nothing of the sort for at least another couple of years.

Like a couple of twenty years. 

Sarah Grace

Dear Sarah Grace,
Today marks seven years since you left the protection of my body and entered the protection of my arms.  Arms that have loved holding you, reaching to support you while slowly widening their circle around you to allow you more opportunity to grow into the young lady that God is molding you into.

I love how you still call for me over stubbed toes and uncertain tears, while my heart swells with pride when I offer you help and you tell me, 'no, I think I can do it.'

And, more often than not, you do.

I love watching your face animate as you tell me a story from your day.  I wonder at how mature your thoughts and words are becoming.

My favorite heart pictures of you include your bright smile as you play with your siblings and your brows drawn together in concentration as you plow through a book.

You are a delightful girl and I pray that life won't wear down the sweetness that is such a beautiful part of your nature.

I pray many things for you, sweet girl, but mostly that you will continue to place your faith in the One who formed you, the One who knows the perfect plan He has laid out for you.

Happy Birthday, Sarah Grace!  I love you so very much, my Bug.

The Fragrance of Mother's Day

I'm sure we could sit around and rehash my less than stellar moments.  I've shared more than is dignified.  So I'm not gonna link to any.  Pretty much rest assured that if you check over there in the sidebar and click on any month, your gonna find one of my antics.

And you thought this blog was all about the kids.  Puh!

If I'd use the camera intentionally, I'd have shots of the kids doing things and I could blog about them.  But apparently, I'm only capable of still life.

Saturday was beautifully overcast.  We were hesitant to undertake any of our bigger outdoors projects, so we piddled about the house with little things.  Well, I did.  Joshua started his garden and washed my van.

I flitted from one ting to the next and never really got anything accomplished. 

At some point, I must have felt industrious.  I started bread.  Then I popped it into the microwave to rise for a little while.

I started to iron, but that seemed like far too much focus for a Saturday.  And the baby was fussing.

We'd made plans to spend the evening with friends from our college days.  They have five children (just like us) with book-end boys (just like us) and the kids play brilliantly together!  We ate and sang and visited until entirely too late by little people standards, and Joshua and I grinned as all of our kiddos zonked out on the ride home.  We dragged into the house and all crashed within minutes.

Sunday dawned and the kids brought me beautifully made Mother's Day cards.  I should document those on the blog.  Because they were pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.  We bustled about getting ready for church and didn't spend much time dwelling on breakfast.

After church, we drove around for an hour and a half waiting for me to have a stroke of brilliance as to what I wanted for lunch.  Plus, the baby was sleeping, so we weren't in a hurry to wake him up.  By the time all was said and done, we made it home about three in the afternoon.

Which is when I discovered this: 

So apparently if you leave bread to rise for too long (like 20-ish hours longer than usual), it maxes out and then falls like a scared souffle.

And that's why the house smelled like a pub for Mother's Day.

He's 1

I can still remember the disbelief when I realized the power was out and that I wasn't going to have the induction.  My body was stretched to it's limits and my arms were aching to hold my baby.

Five days later, I remember pacing around all night, speaking soft words to the little life in my belly as my body started the Great Eviction.

I remember those first precious cries and the call of "It's a BOY!!!" and the feel of him as they placed him on my chest and he wriggled and cried his little newborn cry of angst that his world had abruptly changed.

I remember bringing him home, keeping his sweet little body stripped down and in the sunshine, hoping that he would be the one to break the jaundice chain.

Soon, we were past freshly newborn and into calling his age by weeks rather than days.  He spent hours being held and loved on by his grandparents, aunts, siblings, but mostly his Mommy and Daddy.  We were just as awed by our fifth as we were by our first.

He spent his days sleeping and eating and watching the crazy cycle around him.  Kids in and out and hovering over and in his face.  He smiled big for them, especially his brother, who was more in love with him than any of us knew possible.

He laid on his back and reached for toys or listened as somebody read books to him.  He sat up and engaged in play with sisters who thought they had a real live baby doll.

He giggled and laughed at the entertainment of his siblings and screeched out his discontent when they bothered him.  He became very successful at communication sans words.

He began crawling and reveled in his new found mobility.  As a family, we had to learn to keep colored pencils and Legos off the floor, along with a whole slew of other small choking-hazard type items.

He is full time motion, more active than any of my others, and yet a snuggler like none of the others.  He never fails to greet us with his big smile.  He's had to learn to be heard over the loud percussive noise that is the rhythm of our days.

Happy 1st Birthday, Daniel!  We love you so very much!

Daddy, Mommy, Thomas, Sarah Grace, Elizabeth, and Anna

How We Got Kids - Part 5

Daniel. This sweet little one was a surprise from start to finish.


We thought we were done for a couple of years. After Anna was born, we weren't ready to say "No more" but we were more than ready to be done for a little bit.

The good Lord had other plans.

I realized that my body was acting pregnant. I was tender and tired. So I peed on a stick and was only mildly shocked to see that it came back positive.

I had just taken all our baby gear to a consignment sale a few weeks before. In fact, the day after the test, I went to the sale (run by church friends of mine) to see if I had anything that hadn't sold. My plan was to pull it off the floor.

Every single bit of it was gone. I quietly wandered over to the maternity clothes and began to sort through and was caught. My friend looked at me and asked why I was looking at maternity clothes. I couldn't think of a snappy reply and didn't want to lie. She eyed me and her jaw dropped.

"Aubrey! Are you pregnant?"

I nodded and put my finger to my lips, not ready to share our news with the world at large.

When we did tell everyone, we made the decision to truly let our little one be a surprise.

We still had plenty of blankets, a crib, and a swing. The baby was due just about the same time the next round of consignment sales would hit, so I purchased only a neutral colored car-seat and two little outfits for a boy. I had enough girl stuff to get us through for a bit if the baby was a girl, but if it was a boy, I had nothing.

I took those two tiny boy outfits home and washed them. Once they were clean, I folded them neatly and put them in a drawer next to a pile of pink stuff. I wondered who the little one would be as I shut the drawer.

Our family, plus my sweet niece.

Months later, I pulled out those two tiny boy outfits along with two sweet little girl outfits. I selected the blanket Thomas had come home with and the blanket that each of my girls had been wrapped in when they came home. These blankets were made by my Aunt Cheryl and the kids all love these blankets and the stories tied to them.

By mid-April, my bag was more or less packed, ready to receive those last few toss in items I would need. My baby was due in mid-May, but I was to be induced on the 28th.

***April 27th***

Joshua called me that morning to tell me there were severe storm warnings all over and to keep home and be ready to take cover in case of tornadoes.

We spent a few moments hauling down pillows and blankets and I made the kids keep their tennis shoes on. When Joshua came home around noon, I knew that things were pretty serious.

Due to the location of our neighborhood, we got minimal winds and rains. I couldn't wrap my mind around the destruction that was taking place all over our city. In fact, I was still pretty sure that I was going to have a baby the next day.

Then the hospital called. All non-emergent procedures were being canceled.

I'll admit this right now: I was weak and fleshly. I was upset. I wanted to meet my little person. I wanted my little person to be outside of my body. I'd already signed the eviction notice, for crying out loud!

The morning of the 28th dawned clear and beautiful and without power. We took stock and found that we were in good shape for food and candles and supplies. We had a grill and a generator.

I moaned all day about how I was supposed to be meeting my little one. Our house was totally unscathed and all of our family and friends (though we didn't know it at the time) were safe, yet all I could do was mope because I was still pregnant.

If you've had the joy of a third trimester or two, you know how ready you are tom embrace the end. And maybe you know how it is to be so totally self-focused. Not one of my finer moments, but it is the reality of that time in my life.

For four days, I washed dishes in cold water and soaked them in bleach water and rinsed them and dried them and pouted because we had no paper plates.

For four days, I waddled around watching my kids and my husband entertain each other while I tried to make lemonade from lemons and not go into labor (while secretly wanting nothing more than to go into labor).

For four days, we cooked outside, ran the generator as needed to keep the fridge and freezer cool, and kept to curfew.

For four days, I was more miserable than I knew I could be. The demands of running a home with no power when it was designed to take tons of power were overwhelming and I was tired to an extent I never knew possible. It took everything Joshua and I had.

We watched our neighbors all leave. Joshua is a Ham Radio Operator and we listened as reports of devastation rolled in. We waited for news of open stores and listened to tales of miles-long lines at gas stations in neighboring cities. We counted our blessings to be safe and sound and snug in our home.

I did ridiculous things. I painted the girls room. The kids laughed at me when I plugged in the sewing machine during a couple of our generator runs and sewed bunting and curtains for their room.

Anything to keep my mind off how uncomfortable I was.

One would think that with the insanity of my days and the efforts those days were taking, I would manage to sleep. Let me just disabuse you of that notion. It doesn't matter how physically or mentally exhausted one is, when your body is That Pregnant, sleep is elusive.

Our church planned to hold AM services that Sunday, May 1. So on Saturday night, we warmed water on the grill and poured it into a rubber-maid tub. The kids all bathed in the tub, right there on the deck under the beautiful stars. To them, it was just another part of this awesome adventure!


We refreshed the water and then I wedged my very pregnant body into that tub of warm water and felt like the Queen of Sheba. I think the only other time I had ever had such a wonderful 'bath' was in Haiti when I showered (fully clothed) in the run-off water from a school tent during an unexpected rain storm.

Sunday night as Joshua and I were listening to radio reports and playing Scrabble by candlelight, a noise scared me. A split second later, I realized that 'noise' was the power coming back on.

The hospital called and said that we could come in and have a baby, but we declined. Given that our newborns are severely jaundiced, we opted to wait a bit longer. We didn't know if the power would stay on, and we had to be forward thinking and consider if we could handle a bili-bed. We knew from past experiences that a hospital stay for a jaundiced baby was a killer for me and would be incredibly hard on the rest of our family. Especially now, given all our 'after baby helpers' were unable to get to us or had fled town to care for their own families.

By 2AM on May 2, I knew it was to be Baby Day. I was up pacing around, timing contractions. At 5AM, I called my Dad. "Um, I'm about to leave for the hospital to have a baby. If y'all can get here, that would be great."

I woke Joshua up, who had been shouldering the load of everything and sleeping really well. I hated to do it, but it was time.

I grabbed my bag and drove myself to the hospital. I wasn't that far along in labor, so I was safe to drive. I drove through our neighborhood seeing random lights and televisions going in homes I knew nobody was occupying. My path to the hospital allowed me the luxury of missing the parts of town that were hit hardest by the tornadoes. Since the curfew was still in effect, the roads were all but barren. It was a very surreal experience.


As I got settled in at the hospital, I missed Joshua. I was pretty certain that I would not have the baby before he made it to me (my Dad had called to say they were on their way, so I knew Joshua was coming as soon as he could), but his absence was keenly felt.

I had a traumatic first birthing experience (the details of which I will probably never share on this blog so as to spare first time pregnant ladies who might be reading), and so I can't even conceive of a epidural-less delivery. I did think twice this time, though. Joshua wasn't there to hold me. I am terrified of the procedure, even though I've done it so many times. In the end, the previous trauma memories trumped and I asked for the epidural.

I clutched the nurse's hand and closed my eyes tightly and it was done.

Finally, Joshua was there with me. And since I'm not much on sharing the actual details of labor, I'll simply say that the discomfort and the crazy of those few days were all a part of God's plan and that in the end, we got our precious baby safely delivered. And it was a boy!

Our sweet Little Dude entered a world with the power to keep his bili-bed running because he was, of course, jaundiced. He entered the arms of a Mommy and Daddy who were beyond thrilled to welcome this surprise addition to our family. He was met by a brother who, eleven and a half months later, is still enamored of his role as a brother to a brother. He was kissed and cuddled by all three of his sisters who adore him and cheer over every accomplishment he has, big and small.


He is ours. The other half of our book-end boys. The baby. He is our last, and we are taking care to enjoy each moment and breath in the wonder. And he is loved so very much by so very many.