D Day, final edition....

So this is my last due date.

I think we are ready.... we have car seat, snap and go stroller, bigger stroller, double stroller, swoopy bouncy-chair for sleeping beside my bed, playpen for sleeping in big sibs' room once we have him down through the night, I have wraps for wearing and swaddling and clothes and a hospital bag all ready that even includes some things for me... although I didn't think of a change of real clothes, I should pack that. And a toothbrush.  Oops. maybe shampoo? so not quite ready...

I have a team of people on standby to step in and cover my littles while I'm in the hospital, and I even have up to two sisters and a friend willing to come and keep me company during labour, depending on the timing of everything. I can crack lame jokes at them between vomiting, it'll be like a party!

I'm doing this for the last time, and it feels as good as it does sad. My emotions occasionally well up in my throat, but I just remind myself that I'm not going to be waddling again, or violently turning from smells and food, or wincing as I get out of a car and get back into a car, or sit or stand or walk... It's nice that at this highly hormonal time, the worst aspects are the freshest, so I'm not so easily upset over my truly final trimester of pregnancy.

And while there are many things I won't miss, I know of the things I will miss, and I've been doing my best to cherish them. kicks and wiggles, but also the smiles of other people when I go out... the world is such a friendly place when you are an obviously pregnant woman. People hold doors readily, and offer to carry things, smile in sympathy when your 2yr old outruns you, rather than frowning with concern. They smile all the time, in fact. Every time someone catches your eye, they smile, acknowledging the "glow" that generally manifests in aches and pains, but we need to celebrate it somehow! I like that smile. I'll miss this friendly world, although having a tiny infant with me will extend many of those smiles for a good long time.

Today's quest: Take the kids for a good long walk/bike ride, tidy the house, finish packing my hospital bag apparently, and write out simple bedtime routine for sitters. I have a few worksheets to finish with Rosie, but other than that we've done our homeschooling things already :) tutoring tonight... a regular day, which seems dissonant when I think of how long I've been anticipating this specific date. It's finally October 6th. Wow.

Contents under pressure

I feel HUGE! And I know that's horrible, because everyone keeps saying how small I am, but this little tyrant is growing in there, because I feel like I'm going to burst, and not in that good, downward-motion, labour-ready way... I just feel like I'm about to split at the seams. At any moment!

Today I somehow managed to grocery shop, put in/switch three loads of laundry, and drive hither and thither, again and again AND I arranged my storage room and closet downstairs. Thank God I rethought my original plan to empty the medium-height but definitely sturdy cabinet and move it into the corner... I think that would have been a bad, bad plan.

Heave.... Pop!

:P Asher is very active. I'm very tired. Micah is very active. I'm very tired. Thank God Rosie is a little more chill, and that I was lent Micah's idol to entertain him for a good part of the afternoon... "My Yanna!!" may well be his favorite person in the world right now. She keeps charming him, and today they kissed in the shopping cart... it was too cute. I'm losing my little boy already! Good thing I like her family ;) I wonder when he'll realize that's she's 16 months older than him, and if that will ever matter...

Anyway, now that I truly feel hit with pregnancy, FINALLY some might say, it's not just the stretched-to-the-limit, exhausted and sore feeling, it's also cravings. Last night I had some leftover stir-fry veggies at a friend's house, and I luxuriated in them! I ate them cold from the fridge (not unusual for me) and I finished off all of them, which must have been about 4 or 5 servings.... strangest thing was there was pizza in the fridge and I had no interest whatsoever. All I wanted were those veggies, and they were delicious.

Of course, I enjoyed the cheesecake afterwards very much as well... but man, VEGGIES! And then I ate the cheesecake really quickly, which is so not like me. I'm laughing how pregnant I am right now, and it's so close to the end! Two weeks yesterday. Nuts!

I'm excited for it to be over, and I'm relishing every kick and alien-esque undulation (except the ones that make me gasp in pain, not sure what he catches exactly, but sometimes it really hurts!) and I'm still kinda thinking that the 8th would be perfect, fitting in with Rosie's Nov. 18 and Micah's March 28. Two days isn't too long to wait after a due date, and it would just match so well. I know he'll fit in no matter what though, this baby was made just for us. <3 and="" br="" cuddle="" get="" him="" i="" m="" soon="" the="" thrilled="" to="" toes="">

The end is near...

I'm 37 weeks along.
And have not posted here nearly as much as I want to or should have... There are excuses. My laptop keyboard, ravaged by children, was uncomfortable to type on, until it died recently. My spring and summer seem to be a series of children being sick, followed by life being busy, then I get sick, then the children, then vacation, then me n the kids sick again, then busy some more. And so this blog has been floating in the lake of intention that seems only to grow on the edge of my day-to-day life....

It's nice sometimes to scoop a bucket or two out of the lake and water my conscience.

Asher David Isaiah... I've felt him moving since 15 weeks. He's not shown any preference for or notice of music, unlike his siblings when they were in the womb, but he tends to wake up when I'm telling or reading the kids a story. I think he especially likes it when I make silly voices... or maybe I'm misinterpreting. It's possible that he doesn't like it, and he's actually protesting. Violently. In the only way he knows how. "MOM!!! Stop it, that's embarrassing!"

He wakes up every night around 10:00 or so, and we play with him. Phil especially likes to poke and prod, and he obligingly pushes back. I love how responsive Asher is... when we are poking at him he freezes, and then if you wait a moment or two, when all is quiet, he experimentally reaches out and pushes, as if checking to see if someone is really out there.

Makes me think of the picture with unborn twins, one says "Do you really believe in a 'mom'?" the other replies "Yes! I don't know how, but I'm convinced there is life after birth."

Micah and Rosie take very much delight in pestering their baby, and often fight over hand-space on my belly (which really isn't necessary, there's belly to go around!) Rosie commonly asks throughout the day if we can wake Asher up and play with him, and Micah never fails to smile and find my belly if someone mentions baby. "A-Her, my baby A-Her" he says. They are more than thrilled to welcome this little one. Rosie told me today "Mama, when I Asher comes out and I'm grown up, Micah and I will babysit him and you can sleep as much as you want." I hadn't the heart to remind her that Asher would be growing up along with them. I just smiled and said that would be lovely.

Sleep. And food. ah, bliss, what more can I say? Lately they are all I want. The moment I wake I want to be sleeping again, and when I'm finished eating I wonder if there's anything else delicious around... there's nothing in particular I crave, and my weight is still up and down... I'm within 15 lbs of my pre-pregnancy weight still, but I'm not losing weight consistently anymore. Most of my last dr. visits have shown me gaining. Still I think when all's said and done I'll be at my thinnest after he's born, especially if he eats and grows like his siblings did.

 I'm sore, and beginning to waddle when I'm not careful and/or completely exhausted. Did I mention sore? Nothing unusual... just achy by the end of the day from occasionally carrying around my 35+lb 2 year old... Otherwise things are going well. Asher is head down, ready for October 6 or somewhere around then, and I'm more excited and nervous every day. Bring it on, baby, bring it on.

(picture of me at 30 weeks, getting more recent ones soon)

Born to be...

I've been thinking lots lately about this being our final baby. We know we are happy with three of our own, and I know I don't want to be pregnant a fourth time... but I don't feel like my family is complete. Not really, I feel like God's going to be sending more... sooner or later. Little ones with lighter or darker skin, with someone else's eyes and genes... but there will be more.

And I wonder if I really am crazy.

You see, I always felt that I was born to be a mom. Whenever people asked me what I wanted to do, I came up with something more impressive. Usually acting or writing or nanny-ing... I told my best friend once when I was 12 that I just wanted to be a mom. He said I was crazy. (He didn't want kids) Maybe I am, but it's what I wanted, from about my tenth or eleventh year. I read my first parenting book when I was eleven, and I planned lists of what I would and wouldn't do with my children... I know most little girls did the "name game" when they were six and seven, like me... imagining what I would name them. My favorites were twins. I wanted at least two sets, and used to come up with the "best" names for them... Stephen and Stephanie, Eric and Erica, yes, I was exactly that lame.

Not much has changed, I'm still lame. And I'm still dreaming of my family getting bigger. Not just through Asher, but also fostering. I feel like this is my calling: kids, chaos, learning and teaching... I feel like God designed me and raised me for it. Like he sent me a husband just outside the box enough to go along with it, one who needs the challenge and finds that he unexpectedly loves the experience. But whenever I try to express this, I feel my own niggling doubts. I hear myself starting to say that it's who I'm meant to be, and it sounds pretentious. It sounds downright arrogant even! I shy away from owning this life calling, motherhood and nurturing, because to speak it out loud gives the impression that I am somehow amazing at it. Or that I think I am.

I have no illusions. I'm not.

I can barely have my counters wiped and all the dishes done each 24 - 48 hours.
I routinely forget to do laundry for over a week and then have to play catch-up and inevitably re-wash the load that I've left mildewing in the machine for the second or third time.
I vacuum once a week, except when I don't.
My kids usually get lots of fresh veggies and balanced meals, but sometimes it's McDonalds, or chicken nuggets from the oven with micro-waved frozen peas.
I haven't baked a loaf of bread in two months.
The other day I screamed over Micah when he was blasting my eardrums, shocking him into silence, then proceeded to close him in the guest room with some toys that he ignored, so I could have two minutes to finish my tutoring assessment.

So why motherhood?

My cousin recently shared a writer's perspective on trying to write in the midst of the chaos of life and motherhood. She did it because she had to, because if she didn't, it would always be there, straining to burst out of her. One of my best friends is a writer, and she's shared that sentiment with me in various ways, again and again through the years of waiting, of disappointment, of rewrites and criticism and tearing it apart over and over again. No matter how she wanted to stop, she couldn't.

I'm not that kind of a writer, but I think I am that kind of a mother. I know in my heart that I have love, and yes, even skills, that other kids need. That God can and will use. Could he use them in other ways? probably. I'm tutoring right now, and I know I'm making a difference in the lives of these boys. I know I have in the past and will again affect children for good, even if they never enter my home. I want to counsel someday, when I'm a little older. That will be good too, I think.

But fostering... I can't shake it. Can't get it out of my head. It's what I feel will burst from me if I don't work toward it. Even just baby steps, knowing I'm on my way, gives me a sense of calm. Thinking about how long I've waited and how much longer the waitlist is stirs quiet desperation that I need to just pray away. I will do this, I have to.

I wonder about my little ones, will they feel cheated? The answer is probably yes. But as I look back at my own childhood and see how living in a busy foster home shaped me, the good and the bad, I want that for my kids. I'll do my best to avoid the bad, of course, but that's never entirely possible, no matter who you are or what kind of home you run. There will always be bad, reasons for resentment and hurts that your babies will hold onto as they grow up. All parents are human, thus bound to make mistakes. I don't know if it will be 'worse' because of the path I choose, but I think, what if that bad is for a really good cause? Might that elevate it a little?

I'm born to be a mom. Not a "great" mom, not one who has it all together, or takes everything in stride and comes out on the other side with her hair intact and her kids perfectly dressed as they all play with homemade playdough after baking cookies and completing a Pinterest project. But I'm born to have these babies, and to hold more and love more, and maybe straighten out some twists and untie some knots in the lives of a few little ones who come and go before I see any results. I'm born to deal with extreme behaviors, be spat on without flinching and ignore pinches and slaps while I look at the bigger issue. I can do that. Most of it will wait till my kids are older and won't be as affected, but I can do it. I was born to do it, and with God's help I will. Someday.

Another son....

I'm not going to pretend. I was a little bit disappointed when I heard it was a boy. He's going to be amazing, I know, and I always wanted boys... but there was something about having another baby girl to dress and having a little one named Lilly to go with my Rose....

That's what I get for over-imagining the future! I set myself up.

Let it go... and instead, welcome another little man. Another slightly olive-skinned heartbreaker, with deep brown eyes and sweet, soft hair. A little guy to wear the skulls n snakes my mom so dislikes, and I for some reason can't get enough of on a tot. I little man to wrestle with his brother and confound his sister... who knows? This one might be a gamer, he might be an introvert, he might be a poet or a dreamer, he might take after his Pepere and be a serious little mite, or take after his sister and I and be more unpredictable. I wonder if he'll love sports and cars and motorcycles like Micah already does... or if he'll be artistic or shy... he can and will be anyone.

He's kicking me as I write and I can only smile. He won't be anyone. He's going to be himself; a blend of us and our families that produces something new, a never-before-known person. He might be an Asher, or a Malachi, but whoever he is, he will be loved. And overwhelmed by his siblings. And dedicated to the Father of creation. And encouraged to really LIVE as himself, embracing all he loves and all God made him to be, and using everything to serve others and serve The Lord, living a life as full as we can encourage him to live. He will play in the sunshine and splash in the tub, he will laugh and love and make friends, and he will complete our family. At least till God sends me other people's babies to love. Then he will learn to love them along with the rest of us, and we will all move ahead together.

It seems fitting that in this week full of sun, I've learned that I will have, and anticipate having, another son. Bring it on! Summer fun, September homeschooling, October baby boy!

19 weeks already??

This is me at 18 weeks... apparently baby nearly doubles in size between 17 and 20 weeks. I can definitely tell!

I've been feeling flutters since about 15 weeks, but it wasn't till almost 18 that I'd say I could feel full-fledged kicks... awake times are at night (typical baby!) and also during church I felt quite a bit of movement yesterday, looks like I have a third involuntary dancer on my hands. Yay!

I'm 19 weeks now, and feeling quite neglectful of this poor blog... I'm wondering if I'll even hit 25 entries this time... that's my goal with each pregnancy.

Mother's day.... sure feels special when you are pregnant... I had my little mothers' day gift with me all day long. God is so good to us!

My Nausea has totally calmed, except when I have a bad taste in my mouth (like after I eat cereal and before I brush my teeth) or when I'm very hungry. It was kind of a kick in the pants that my worst two weeks of nausea were weeks 14 and 15.... right when everything was supposed to be clearing up! We made it through, however, and I'm proud to announce (so far) my second vomit-free pregnancy!! I know I'll more than account for that during the delivery, but for now I get to relax and enjoy the ride.

I'm tired all the time, but I'm sure that comes from having two other active little ones, and too much to do. My schedule has calmed now without papers (BIG sigh of relief) but I've taken on more tutoring, and I'm hoping to also do some writing for a friend.

The most exciting thing this week is that my ultrasound is THIS MORNING!!! I've double and triple checked the time, and I'm gearing up to drink about half the water they recommend (there's no way I can drink a litre of water, it's nearly impossible even when I'm not pregnant!) and go find out the sex of my baby! Well, I might not find out this morning, but my sweet doctor has given me his cell number so I can text him and ask near the end of the day.... oh how will I wait until 4pm? He did say that often the techs have been giving parents hints, and he's had quite a few show up already knowing.... here's hoping I get one of those techs! The one in Ontario just told us outright, but I understand why they're a little more cagey here.

Micah and Rosie are as transfixed as ever by all the babies at church, and Micah's playing with dolls enthusiastically, tucking them in and rocking them and giving them bottles. Not to the exclusion of much else, or for any prolonged periods of time (he is a boy), but he does love them. I think we have two great big siblings gearing up! And with their best friends about to officially have their little sister home, Rosie and Micah will have some great examples, and maybe even a little practice.

This little family is thrilled!!

12 weeks and counting...

We had our first official ultrasound last week.... the time is going by so quickly, I feel like I'll be bringing this little one home before I know it. My due date is officially set for Oct. 6, and I'm 12 weeks along (plus five days alredy) and starting to feel so big so fast! I'm already uncomfortable in at least one of my pairs of jeans, glad the other one is a little big on me anyway so I still have something to wear when I'm doing papers.

Life right now feels like a tumult of moments all thrown into a melting pot of exhaustion... then stirred with some aches and pains, and a generous dash of joy.

A typical week finds me doing papers at 4am on Tuesday as my life-saving sister watches the kids, then making through the afternoon somehow, attending Freedom Session in the evening, falling into bed, and hobbling through Wednesday trying to conserve what little energy I can muster to do papers Wednesday night... I start around 9 usually and finish at a disgusting hour like 7am or later... then my lovely hubby allows me to sleep for a couple hours (I usually manage three before my bladder and my stomach conspire to make bed an achingly comfortable prison that I must forgo). Thursday is a haze of strange feelings... the rest of the week is spent trying in vain to catch up, and I feel like I blink and it's Tuesday again....

But Friday night is games night with my friends, Sunday is always refreshing whether it's time spent with my Lord in worship and instruction, or time spent loving on a dozen or more little ones at church. Monday is shadowed a little, being the day before Tuesday morning, but Tuesday night is so full of discovery and fellowship I completely forgive it for being a late one. Throughout everything, God is faithful and despite the shroud of exhaustion in which I function, I don't seem to have damaged Rosie by snapping at her (sometimes I almost wish she was a little less resistant...) and I hope I haven't gained too much weight from the obligatory snacking that holds my constant nausea in check.

12 weeks along, and so far another no-puke pregnancy!! Wondering if it's another boy.... May 19 and hopefully we'll know.

Rosie will be so sad. "Vewwy, vewwy sad" in her words. "But you can still hug and rock and sing a baby brother to sleep!" She paused for a minute to think about this... then decided she'd negotiate. "How about a boy and a girl?" obviously a very generous compromise on her part. She wasn't impressed that there was only one baby and we didn't get to choose the gender.

A picture to leave you with... and best wishes for a soon-to-be big brother who is turning 2 today! Insane.

Down the rabbit hole

I've been feeling a little off lately, so on Wednesday morning, February 12, when I was handed the little guy I babysit and the smell of his hair almost made me gag, I began to have suspicions. I messaged Lee and asked her if she had a spare pregnancy test. She, in turn, headed straight out to buy me one on her way over.

She showed up.

I peed.

Nothing.

We sat in the living room and looked at each other for a bit. Are you disappointed? She wanted to know. No, not really, more relieved.

She looked at me. 

OK, maybe a little disappointed, but definitely relieved too, we're not exactly planning... We chat for a little while as the kids play, and she gets up for a moment to respond to Ari's call, and walks by the bathroom. "Um, Bekah? Sit down."

I'd left the test on the counter, apparently I was a little too impatient for that result. Now there were two lines.

"How do you feel?" ... shock. God decided that now was the time, and His way is always best, so I've gotta trust what He's doing. And a part of me, always, no matter what, thrills at the idea of another baby. I can't imagine not being excited, not wanting to meet that person, to find out what his/her personality, life, is going to be about. Frankly, I'm over-the-top, out-of-my-mind happy about this tiny life.

The hesitations came from our season, we are stepping out of a particularly difficult one. One that we have been in for over a year, and only felt truly free of for about three weeks. Father, your timing is best. Give us strength to stay the course, give us love to depend on and rest in, and thank you for the months ahead where we have time to prepare and re calibrate in the face of this change.

There is also bittersweet as we are slowly discovering how things will be for another baby in our lives. We are watching test results and struggling to understand what they might mean for her life. Struggling to see God's hand, to amend expectations and sooth broken hearts. Oh Father, the ache of love and pain of loss... Step in, your healing is sorely needed!

Baby, you are here at a tumultuous time of life, but isn't that true of us all? Father, thank you for this precious gift, this joy in the midst of turmoil.

Welcome baby. Welcome nausea. Welcome sore back and chronic exhaustion. welcome "why do I have a tummy ALREADY??!" and "Seriously, that's all? But I had to pee SO BAD!!"

Down the rabbit hole once more!