To The Man in Our Lives

Happy Father's Day to a man who would literally do anything for his girls, whether that means putting on some Mickey ears, making holiday crafts, whipping up pancakes every Saturday morning, or reading Fancy Nancy fifteen times in the course of a week.

A man who is more than a father, but a Daddy that will kiss the owies and get right in there and be a part of their little lives.

A man who I completely trust with the precious hearts of our girls.

I love you, sweetie, for the man that you are to our children and to me. We are so very blessed to have you as the only man in our lives!

Drama Queen

Did you know that an OB appointment can last 7 hours? No really. You didn't? Well, it can.

Did you know you could turn that harmless appointment into a fun-filled trip to labor and delivery, complete with a call to your hubby to get his butt downtown a.s.a.p.? You know, just for kicks...

And did you know you can then top it all off by driving home in 2 hours of Chicago traffic during rush hour when there is a complete downpour?

Oh, yes, yes, you can.

That, my friends, was my Tuesday.

And, yes, I would REALLY like some WINE with that whine. Please, please have a glass for me. Or two. ;)

Now, first of all, let me say that everything is totally fine and that the drama here is totally intended. (But, of course, we all know there is at least a smiggin' of truth in sarcasm.)

Anywho...

Needless to say, Tuesday's appointment wasn't as "uneventful" as we had hoped. Well, in the end it was (a blessing, I know!), but not without some drama.

I really, really hate drama. I try to avoid it at all costs, but I'm afraid I'm turning into a drama queen. Seriously. I've never even broken a bone, but now? Well, I feel like it's always something.

And it's not like a "poor, poor me" kinda thing -- honestly. It's more like a "this is getting embarrassing because I need you to now watch my kids for 7 hours because I can't seem to sit on a fetal monitor without something fluke-ish happening" kinda thing. I mean really?

So here's what happened: I went for a typical OB appointment (no ultrasound), which started with a stress (NST) test. I got downtown in record time, so I was feeling really good that we were going to break our current 5-hour minimum: NST, pee, weight, belly measure, and see ya next week!

Notsomuch.

I was hooked up to the NST machine, chatting away with my nurse while Miss Brooklyn was happily displaying her latest moves via line graph, when BEEP, BEEEEP, BEEEEEEP!!!!

Nurse runs out; another runs in. Doctor comes in. "Turn on your right side. Turn on your left."

Chaos, chaos, chaos.

"Turn back over and let's get that heartbeat again."

No more BEEEEEEPS! Just beep, beep.

Calm.

Me: "What just happened?"

New female OB I had just met who looked like she was straight out of Grey's Anatomy: "Your baby's a bit of a trouble maker. Her heart rate dropped significantly for a while there, but she looks fine now. We just want to monitor you over at labor and delivery for a few hours. We'll do your OB exam over there."

Me: "Uh, okay."

So I call Jeff and waddle across the street to triage, call my absolutely angelic sister-in-law babysitter, get hooked up again, and snooze until my now-stressed hubby arrives. Oh joy.

Brooklyn is fine, but yes, she is a trouble maker. It appears that she decided to grab hold of the umbilical cord and give it a good squeeze, which made her heart rate plummet just enough to freak us all out.

But all is well now.

She is moving plenty, and I feel fine. And this grabbing thing? Well, it doesn't surprise me. I swear this girl has a hold on my bladder and squeezes it any time she feels the need for a good laugh...and lately, that is quite often. :)

I too can laugh about it all now, but I'll admit it wore on me a little Tuesday night after I finally got the girls to bed and I was waiting for Jeff to get home from his second trip into work...ya know, at 9pm.

But we all need a good cry now and then, right? And thank goodness I decided to give in and buy that heavenly bag of chocolate the night before when I went grocery shopping. Now THAT was a God-send for sure.

So there's some more drama for ya'll. I have an ultrasound next week, so we'll see what happens. At least I get to see Miss Queenie herself and those grabby hands! Seriously, could I write a better script?

Sting

I sit on my bed, belly up, with a needle in my hand.

I am finally listening to my OB and attempting to take my second daily shot of blood thinner that somehow has taken me 10 weeks to accomplish. There is just not enough time in the day.

This needle, this shot, has nothing to do with Brooklyn. It is to protect me. Yet as I get ready to give the shot, she moves and I am distracted. She shifts, and the right side of my belly sticks up and contorts and is uneven. How that still amazes me.

I carefully put my hand on what I am sure is her backside. The tears start to fall, and I pray hard for healing. I pray for power in my hand. I hold her the only way I know how to right now, and I talk to her out loud and in unspoken words that go straight from my soul to my belly. She kicks, and my heart jumps. I am now smiling through the tears, and I know it is time to give the shot.

As the needle goes in my belly, it stings. Some shots hurt more than others, but today it’s not that bad. A breath of relief sneaks out. It’s the little blessings sometimes.

Yes, there are bruises on my belly. Bruises that were never there before this pregnancy. They are bruises I can hide and never show. But that wouldn’t be fair.

Because I am not alone. We are all hurting, somehow, some way. I am no different than anyone else going through this life. Life stings, and at times it may feel like too much pain to endure. But we do. We get through it.

The bruises fade, and we move on. But we never forget the sting.

And that’s where I know I am different….but in a good way. I could get angry. I could hold on to the pain, bury it deep within my body. I could focus on the hurt, the black and the blue, and give in to my human nature to sit in the sadness and dwell.

But that is where He comes in.

He doesn’t take away the sting, but He will heal the bruises and, most of all, He will fill the brokenness that goes so far beyond my skin. He will replace those bruises with all the colors of the rainbow, making the black and the blue beautiful and in perfect harmony with the bigger picture He is painting.

If you don’t know who He is, I am talking about God. And He makes all the difference in the world.

You see, I will get to hold the baby in my belly, look at her face, and I KNOW that I will be in awe of the beauty He has created. Not only because the Bible says it ( Romans 8:28 ), but because I feel it…even now. And that feeling is so much stronger than the sting.

I am still healing, yes, and it still hurts. But the assurance, the promise that lays before me is what I bury deep within my body. And even though there is another shot in my near future, there is also a life to live, a man to love, little girls to take care of, and much happiness to be had.

I will not be wounded. I will be better.

For me,
for her,
for them,
for Him.

Foto Friday: F is for Fun

So, I realize this blog has gotten a little heavy lately. I write when I feel led, and today I feel led to lighten up a little and share some of our family fun.

Truth be told, I was born a scheduler and rule-follower -- especially when it comes to our girls -- which means that sometimes I have to be reminded to chill out and just live. They are only little once, and the best part about being a Mommy is that you get the chance to be little all over again.

One thing that I have definitely learned over these few months is that life is truly what you make it. You can either jump in and laugh, or sit and miss out on all the fun. So I have vowed to change things around this house -- making it more playful and more joyful and full of l.i.f.e.

That started with a promise to make this summer as fun as possible...balancing planned trips with last-minute adventures and all-out silliness (and getting some work done in between). Although my hormones are trying REALLY hard to work against us, I think we've gotten off to a great start!

(Cue lots and lots of photos... Enjoy!)



Impromptu trips to random parks we drive past


Home-made popsicles on the deck


Touch a Truck day!






Home-made pizza WITH lots of gooey (dairy-free) cheese


Making sure we are dressed appropriately for every occasion ;)




Lots of fun with glitter (which Jeff just loves...)




Tickle fights with Daddy at bedtime


And last but not least...getting creative when Mommy is in bed sick all day (and Daddy is on the clock ;)

Faith Like a Child

When actions speak louder than words...

Whispers

It’s absolutely amazing how God has revealed himself to us these last few months. Sometimes it’s in quiet whispers as I look out the window or soak in the smell of a giggling ponytail bouncing on my lap. Other times, I swear He has been right there in the room, very loudly telling us, “I am here.”

Even in the weeks leading up to our first ultrasound, I feel God was whispering in an effort to prepare my heart, even though I had no idea what was to come. I vividly remember sitting on the couch with Jeff a few days before the ultrasound, telling him that sometimes I had a small feeling we might have a child with special needs simply because I thought Emma would be so awesome with him or her. Jeff quickly dismissed the idea—and so did I—assuming it was nothing more than “third-child paranoia" and nerves.

As I’ve mentioned before, we also decided to find out the sex of our baby this time—Jeff’s idea—and I admit I was pretending to be more excited about it than I was. It honestly didn’t matter to me. I also have never been a huge fan of saying, “As long as it’s healthy” simply because what if the baby wasn’t healthy? What if she had 9 fingers instead of 10? Did it matter? Would you not love the baby the same? I can honestly say that those words never sat right with me…especially now.

On the day of our ultrasound, Jeff and I were on the phone (he was meeting me there), and I asked him if he was excited. He said he was, and I teased him about the baby being difficult so that we wouldn’t be able to find out the sex. But then in all seriousness, I said, “We do need to remember what this ultrasound is really about. It’s not about girl or boy—although that is bonus information—it is about our baby and his or her health.” He agreed, and we hung up as I arrived at the ultrasound facility.

Now don’t get me wrong, the information we received in that ultrasound room took both of us completely by surprise. I plan to write about that experience in the future, but I can tell you I will never forget Jeff’s reaction. Watching a heart breaking before your very eyes is an image you can’t escape. The red cheeks, the confused eyes, the nervous hands…it’s like it happened yesterday. I will never forget that night -- ever -- even though I was in total shock. Even today, the reality of it all surprises me and catches me off guard as we go about our daily routine. Sometimes I think that is a sign of pure acceptance, while other times I wonder if it’s God giving my heart a break.

So it’s not like I had this “I already knew” moment, but as I look back, I can hear the whispers. The small preparations He made. The way He opened my heart to His possibilities, His plan—a plan that was so far removed from mine.

And while I have lots of “yelling” moments to tell you about as well (stay tuned!), I have learned to listen closely for His whispers.

Sometimes they provide what I feel might be very real information, but most of the time, they just provide a whole lot of comfort when I need it the most. Sometimes they come from a little girl who stops mid-eating to quietly pray for her sister’s “sick legs,” and other times they come from another little girl who stops mid-play to announce in her proudest (and loudest!) voice that she is going to be a big sister.

No matter the volume of His voice, I am trying to listen hard these days…and that usually means ignoring the world a little bit.

In my hallway, a framed image reads:
“Make time for the quiet moments as God whispers and the world is loud.”

I am still learning to listen, to drown out the other voices, and I am far from perfect. Before this experience, I admit that I would pick and choose when I followed God’s lead. I'm sure He has tried to tell me a lot these last few years, but life is busy, and well, it’s easy to get caught up in the meaningless jibber-jabber that is all around us. I can only imagine what I've missed, the murmurs of Truth I've ignored.

But now, it is different. Everything is different. I am different.

I am listening.

"Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know."
Jeremiah 33:3 NIV


"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Jeremiah 29:11 NIV


“You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory.”
Psalm 73:24 NIV

Quick Update...All is Well

Good news at our ultrasound today! Brooklyn's ventricles are about the same size as last time, which means the fluid in her brain is stable and not rapidly increasing. Praise God!

Of course, we would like all that fluid to simply disappear, but one step at a time. For now, we are rejoicing in what was actually a pretty uneventful appointment. Jeff was able to meet me there this time, so I feel kinda bad that we were in and out of the ultrasound pretty quickly. No sneak peeks at her cute little nose or even those kicking feet. But we both realize we can't expect every single appointment to be some momentous occasion, and honestly, it was kinda nice that it wasn't. Hearing a simple "all is well" is more than okay with us these days.

Miss Brooklyn is weighing in at a petite 3 lbs, 1 oz, which puts her at about the 23 percentile and definitely within normal growth rates. (A very good thing!) However, because she is a little bit on the smaller side, our OB is being cautious and would like to make sure she is getting enough oxygen, which means he wants me to start having weekly (yes, WEEKLY) NST tests...ugh!...on top of seeing me for regular appointments every 2 weeks...ugh!....and an ultrasound every 3 weeks...grumble, grumble, grumble...

Now, I don't mean to be whiny preggo, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that this makes me a tad frustrated. These appointments literally take half a day. Today, for example, was 5 hours from the time I left my house until the time I picked up my little ladies. Five hours! Last time was 6 hours. That's a long time for my wonderful babysitters (love you, sisters!) and kinda exhausting for this mama. BUT, it is part of the deal, Brooklyn is totally worth it, and, well, we gotsta get used to it. So suck it up I will.

Our OB is willing to let me do some of the NST tests at Palos, so I don't have to go out there EVERY time, which I suppose is a little better. Right?!?!???? Yes, yes it is (...as I inhale five more peanut butter M&Ms...)

Anywho... she is still in position for a normal delivery (which they are really encouraging us to do), and she is really moving a lot -- hands and feet! Jeff gets to feel her move all of the time, and both girls love talking to my belly and making her kick. (I swear she knows their voices!) I know how much joy it brings to my heart every time I feel her move, and it is so awesome that they get to enjoy that now too. We get to rejoice as a family, and it only makes us that much more excited to meet her.

So, my friends, that is the scoop. As always, thank you for your prayers. You are all taking a part in our baby's life and our family's journey, and we are eternally grateful for the work your prayers have done. Next ultrasound in 3 weeks...let's hope it's just as uneventful! :)

Foto Friday: 29 weeks...

...and I can no longer see my toes! :)

Update on Brooklyn

We had another ultrasound yesterday. As if getting another peak at our peanut wasn't enough, we also got lots of new information.

First, the good news! Miss Brooklyn is kicking around in there!!! Yes, her legs are moving! This is the first time we have been able to see that. Up until now, they were not detecting any leg movement. We still don’t know if this indicates specific movement from the knee down, but it is encouraging. God is so good!

Also, she is no longer breech and has moved herself into "position," which is making a normal delivery (not a C-section) a very real possibility. We are waiting to see if our neurologist agrees with our OB that this is a safe option for Brooklyn’s condition, but our OB seems very confident that this will be more than fine based on the defect’s lower location and its size. Yesterday’s ultrasound showed that defect is measuring “small,” which is another yahoo!

Either way, Brooklyn’s birthday is scheduled for July 27. BUT if she's anything like her sisters, she may decide to show up a little sooner, which would be fine with us. We can't wait to meet her!

She is also growing just fine and all of her organs look great, so we are more than overjoyed!

Unfortunately, we did get a bit of discouraging news. The fluid in Brooklyn’s brain has increased and has been upgraded from “mild” to “severe.” This increases the chance of her needing a shunt once she is born, could make breathing a little difficult at first, and also increases the chances of cognitive challenges later on in life. We remain hopeful that the fluid will level off at this point, but our next ultrasound in 2 weeks will give us a better idea if this is progressive or not.

Our OB is hopeful that the fluid will not increase, and so far, it is not causing her head to swell, which is very good. Still, we are concerned and asking for prayers on this very specific item.

And, by the way, your prayers are working more than you know! All of our anxiety about our appointments and switching doctors has clearly been bathed in prayer, and God is showing His presence in very real ways.

As you already know, we are very confident in our neurologist, but I haven't had a chance to share that my OB nurse actually prayed for me at my first appointment (yes, PRAYED!), and yesterday’s ultrasound was performed by a gentle woman who had lost her own child to a more severe form of Spina Bifida. (More on those stories later...) We KNOW that these were not mere coincidences.

"For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them."
Matthew 18:20 NIV


Jeff and I are so thankful for all of the prayers and support we have gotten up until this point, and we feel very confident that your prayers -- and God's awesome power -- will help the fluid in her brain subside. We continue to trust and hope in His plan!


"Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
your kingdom come,
your will be done
on earth as it is in heaven."
Matthew 6:9-10 NIV

Up

She tells me she wishes she could fly.

I totally know what she means.

The weight of this world is so heavy sometimes. Too heavy.

But lately, I find myself floating. Floating somewhere between Heavenly hope and worldly reality.

This in-between, this waiting. It's confusing. Some days, I really don't know what I feel.

As I float, I work hard to keep my eyes focused on the prize, even when the gravity of it all tries so hard to keep me down.

I look at my girls; I try to live in the blessings. I try to ignore the rain and concentrate on the sparkle of the glitter that is providing so much joy. Sparkle that is making our day brighter, even if it is a little bit messy.

It's a choice, happiness. To have an Upward perspective. To hope. And I thank God every day that I have that choice because without it, my feet would never leave the ground. Even if that means I have to float a little before I fly.


(Emma's preschool Teddy Bear Picnic balloon release)

but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
Isaiah 40:31 (NIV)

Dandelions & Tulips

Saturdays are my favorite day of the week, especially in the spring and the summer, when the weather gets warm. Jeff is (usually) home and takes the girls outside to work with him so I can have a little "me" time, which usually involves toilet scrubbing and laundry. But nonetheless, I get a little break.

However, it isn't long before I hear a tap at the door or several urgent doorbell ringings. As I open the door, I am greeted by two little girls with hands full of dandelions and faces full of smiles. "Here, Mommy, for you."

I love that. And I don't think it will ever get old. Ever.

A few weeks ago, we had a Saturday that followed that exact series of events. As I relished the moment, I filled a plastic cup with water, gently placed my gifts inside, set it on the kitchen counter, and happily went back to cleaning the bathroom.

A quick water break led me back to the kitchen, where I noticed that the plastic dandelion cup was actually sitting next to a glass vase full of purple tulips Emma and I bought a few days before in honor of Brooklyn. We both agreed she would like them, so we "splurged."

As I saw the contrast of those two vases, my human nature took over and I started to go there...

Brooklyn will probably never be able to run around the yard on a Saturday morning with her sisters.
She will have to watch them from afar.
And she will never bring me bouquets of dandelions...at least not without a lot of physical effort.

When these types of moments come, I have learned to literally look Up. And just like every time I choose to that, God revealed something amazing to me. This time, He drew my eyes back to the tulips. The beautiful, beautiful tulips.

How in the world did I miss their beauty?

And then He fixed my eyes on both flowers:

The dandelions...bright like the sun, full of life, carefree, and a bit wild.



The tulips...purple like Royalty, peaceful, carefully constructed, and a bit more fragile.



Both created by God. Both beautiful in their own way. Both perfect in His image.

My mind was then drawn to a short essay someone sent my Mom days after we found out about Brooklyn:

WELCOME TO HOLLAND
by Emily Perl Kingsley
c1987

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.



Interestingly enough, going to Italy has always been a dream of mine, and Jeff and I were fortunate enough to literally go there a few years ago. It lived up to every expectation I had, and we absolutely loved it there.

But I know we will love "Holland" as well, and I'm pretty sure it will surpass all of our expectations.

After all, I hear they have lots and lots of tulips there.

A Piece of Me

I had my first dream last night. Well, my first dream that wasn’t really a dream at all, but more like a glimpse into the future.

I was in the hospital awaiting surgery. My Dad was there and so was my friend Katie. There was a mother and a daughter in the waiting room as well, both of who seemed to have symptoms of Spina Bifida. The daughter was joking with the mom that she didn’t have any real problems, but the mom was arguing that she did. They were smiling and laughing together. And next in line for the surgery.

I was trying to be brave, and I couldn’t see my Dad for a second. And then I caved in and hugged my friend Katie. I was crying. I told her I was scared. I had never been operated on before. She said, “I know,” and cried with me.

Then it was time to sign my name in at the surgery check-in. But instead of my name, I was supposed to write my relation to those in the waiting room. I wrote, “daughter, Mommy, friend.”

Only neither Emma nor Kendall was there.

And that’s when I realized I wasn’t the one really going into surgery. It was Brooklyn. But I couldn’t see her, which actually makes sense. She isn’t here yet.

I was woken up from my dream to the sound of Kendall crying, and I as walked to her room, I realized just how real my dream was.

Every time Brooklyn goes into surgery, it will feel like I am the one going in. A piece of me getting wheeled into that room. I can’t phantom that feeling yet, but I know I will have to feel it many, many times in the years ahead. I am scared.

But I do know I will have my family there and my friends. They will hug me and cry with me. They will be—and have been—there to support me every step of the way.

And my daughter will have to remind me every time that she is the one going into surgery.

But I will argue that is not the case at all.

More Hope!!

Today was an awesome day! We met with the pediatric neurologist, and she is absolutely wonderful. She is extremely knowledgeable (well, duh... she is a brain surgeon), but she is also extremely compassionate.

I was so nervous about meeting her... about finding out all sorts of clinical details from some genius doctor who would talk over my head and give me all sorts of gloom and doom scenarios. I expected this to be our reality check. A day when we would receive knowledge that would take away the comfort of the "unknown" and leave us with just our faith. I prepared myself for the worst, knowing that no matter what we learned today, I would still choose to hope for the best.

But that wasn't how it was at all. Immediately, I felt at ease when I met the doctor. She was very friendly (and quite fashionable I might add!) and was interested in what we wanted to know. She was very forthcoming with information, but waited for our questions and truly took her time with us.

She started off by saying that no matter what our ultrasounds are showing her, it does not give us an indication of what Brooklyn's condition will be. She has seen a wide range of scenarios, and every child is different. Common sense, sure, but I expected a medical professional to be more black and white. But let me tell you that all that gray is a HUGE comfort to us.

She told us that she has seen children with defects in the upper part (thoracic) of their spine walk successfully, while others with very low (sacral) defects can't walk at all. In other words, you really don't know those types of details until the baby is born. Brooklyn's defect is in the mid-lumbar/sacral area, so there is a lot of hope that she will be able to at least walk with braces. Her clubbed feet will have to be adjusted, but once they are, walking with assistance is a very real possibility.

Long term, she may or may not end up having to use a wheel chair. That will depend on her quadriceps strength, her weight, and her personality. It will also have to do with how much we motivate her and encourage her to be independent. The hospital really encourages independence, something I know Jeff is extremely committed to and ready to tackle. Heck, if he has his way, she will be running marathons! I am committed to this as well, but I know it will be hard as the Mommy. As the neurosurgeon told us, she will have to pick up her toys and make her bed, even if she has to do it differently than her sisters. We have to push her so that she can have a full life, even if it that means it's a little hard on us in the process.

The neurosurgeon also told us that she wasn't concerned with the fluid in her brain (hydrocephalus). It is only mild, and it is very common. Once the defect in Brooklyn's back is closed, they will closely monitor the fluid levels in her brain. In fact, the goal is to NOT use a shunt (to help drain the fluid in her brain) unless absolutely necessary. I won't bore you with all of the medical details, but while shunts have saved many, many lives in the last 30 years, they also create lots of complications (infections, mortality, etc.). So whereas 20 years ago they would have quickly put in a shunt, they now wait it out to see if the body can heal itself and learn to absorb the fluid. It's a little more of a "cutting edge" approach, and Jeff and I are on board 100%. This may mean that Brooklyn will be in the hospital a little longer (an average of 3 weeks), but every day she gets older and stronger without a shunt is an advantage. The surgeon assured us that if they see any evidence that a shunt is needed, they will definitely use it. And they will only release Brooklyn from the hospital when they are sure she is stable and truly ready.

We also learned about possible feeding challenges (very common), learning challenges (math can be difficult), and the logistics of moving Brooklyn from delivery to surgery, as well as the series of events that will take place while she is at the hospital.

In the midst of all this information, we also talked about personal stuff...my pregnancy, our girls, her children. She referenced her other patients by name, and she told us she couldn't wait to meet our little girl. I believe her. She made sure to introduce us to the very nice office people I talked to on the phone. They were just as friendly. As Jeff said, we felt like we were becoming a part of a family. And that was such an amazing feeling.

I can honestly say that Jeff and I could not feel more confident that this is the perfect surgeon to operate on our baby. No matter what the outcome, Brooklyn is going to receive the best care. I know these people will not only take care of our baby, but care for her.

Once again, our prayers were answered. Keep 'em coming! :)

And Away We Go...

Appointments.

That is basically where we are at right now. Lots and lots of appointments. I was putting them off, I admit, because that meant time away from the girls and really, I wasn't ready for that yet. I know that will be a big part of our life from here on out...but it is honestly a part I dread.

Funny how it's the little things that can get to you. I've always been that way though. I can handle the "big things" pretty easily. Maybe because I know only God can handle them, but it's the little things that I struggle with. It's the day-to-day stuff that makes me feel like I am lacking and that I am somehow failing. And letting the girls down is now a looming fear that creeps in way too often.

Many of you know that Emma was with us the night that we found out about Brookyln's Spina Bifida. Not the best situation, but in many ways, it helped relieve us of the decision as to what to tell her, when to tell her, etc. She knew from the start, whether we liked it or not.

Well, on the way home that night, I was trying my hardest to figure out the right thing to say to my little girl as I was still trying to comprehend it all myself. I told her that Brooklyn might have "sick legs." I told her that even though she might not be able to do all the things we can do, she is going to be a perfect addition to our family. She will teach us about God in ways we never imagined. She will be special, and she will be a very important part of our family.

After my pep talk, I was feeling pretty good about my words and the fact that I was doing a good job of hiding my breaking heart, when from the backseat came the smallest little voice...

"Mom, does that mean Brooklyn will be more important than me and Kendall?"

Silence.

My worst fear...spoken by a 4 year old that had more wisdom and understanding than I ever imagined. My worst fear...before I even knew it myself.

As I desperately tried to backtrack -- telling Emma we are all made special by God in different ways and all play an important part in our family -- I felt a horrible sense of failure.

Even as I become more informed about all of the challenges we have ahead of us, it is still my biggest fear: Taking care of all three of my children in a way that makes them all feel loved, special, and important. Making Emma and Kendall feel loved even though Brooklyn will be getting lots of attention. Making Brooklyn feel loved even though she can't do all the things Emma and Kendall will be able to do. Making them understand that they will each make me proud in different ways. And that I love them all equally.

I know this is a struggle every mother with more than one child has. But somehow it has now been magnified...by like 100. Maybe it shouldn't be and maybe I'm the one magnifying it, but I would be lying if I didn't say it literally makes my heart ache.

The comfort I have is believing that God will also use this experience to make Emma and Kendall the people He intended them to be... compassionate, caring, accepting. We want more for our children, and I think this does give my girls an opportunity to experience life in a more challenging, but more fulfilling way. I just pray God will help me guide them in this direction. That the stress won't take over and that the moments we are together make up for the time lost. For the confusion.

So the decisions are being made. Assuming all goes as planned at all of our appointments next week, we will deliver at Northwestern, and Brooklyn will get her surgeries at Children's Memorial. I will have to have a C-section, which means there will be a few days when I sit in a hospital room by myself while Jeff waits in another hospital for our baby to come out of surgery and my other babies are at home being cared for by someone other than their Mommy.

These are days I have to choose not to think about. Because the thought of those days tear. me. to. p i e c e s.

I know this will not be easy. But God never said it would be easy.

As my bible study lesson so perfectly revealed to me this week...

"For it has been granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in him but also suffer for his sake..." (Phillipians 1:29)

If my God can die on a cross for me so that I can spend a perfect eternity with my children, the least I can do is use our short period of worldly suffering for His Glory.

And I pray with all of my heart that all three of my girls learn to do the same.

Meet Brooklyn Hope

Today we had our fetal echocardiogram and -- praise God! -- our baby’s heart looks healthy. The doctors weren’t really worried there was anything wrong, but any time they discover abnormalities, they usually check out the heart just to make sure there are no other issues. Up until this morning, I wasn’t worried either, but as our appointment time got closer, I admit, I was scared.

We went to the same place I had my ultrasound, so needless to say, the feelings were welling up and my heart was heavy. My mom was there for comfort, and she kept me strong. But as I sat down on the same table in the same room we originally got the news, it took everything in me to keep it together. Thankfully, our ultrasound technician was extremely kind and was happy to chat, which kept my mind at ease.

Although a pediatric cardiologist still has to review the ultrasound tape to confirm that all is well, the technician said our baby’s heart looked “perfect.” Thank you, thank you, thank you, God.

As if that wasn’t enough, our technician also gave us a few more praises: She confirmed that we are indeed having a girl, and she gave us more than a few photos of our little sweetheart.

God is so awesome. This was supposed to only be an ultrasound of my baby’s heart, but by the grace of this technician, I got to see her precious face, her active hands, and even those tiny little toes. She waved to me, and at one point, gave us a thumbs up as if to say, “No worries, Mom, I am okay.” I can’t describe the joy my heart felt in that moment. Another image imprinted in my heart forever.

Also, now that we know for sure that our baby is a girl, I want you all to know that her name is Brooklyn Hope. Or, as her Daddy already calls her, “Brooke.”

When we first found out we were pregnant, Jeff and I quickly decided on names, and it was always going to be Brooklyn for a girl. But I admit, the night we found out she had Spina Bifida, I was tempted to change it. The next day, however, we decided her name needed to stay exactly the same because she was the same baby God had put in our life just 3 months before. He created her and has known her all along, and we wanted to honor that with the name our hearts chose in the beginning. She is our baby no matter what the details are, and we love her just the same.

Her middle name, however, did change. Originally it was going to be Marie, which is my middle name and my Great Grandma’s name. But we knew we wanted to also honor God and the impact Brooklyn was having on all of us, and “hope” just seemed to fit in so many ways.

“And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.”
Romans 5: 2b

While we certainly hope for our baby’s healing, more importantly, we have learned that God provides hope, comfort, and strength even in the darkest of days. Hope in Him gives us perspective, peace, perseverance, and even praise when challenges take us to places we never thought we’d be.

He is the light in our sorrow. A light that is so brilliantly shining through our little girl, that even she knows, it is all going to be okay.

When Doubt Creeps In

Today was a bad day.

And while I know what you are thinking, the day was really like any other bad Mommy day. It was a day of way too much crying, way too much whining, way too much yelling, and way too many Reese's peanut butter cups (don't you dare ask how many...)

It was a day when bedtime couldn't come soon enough and once it did, the Mommy regrets came, along with the urge to run into their bedrooms to hug and apologize for all the wrong things I did.

But instead of the "at least there is tomorrow" thoughts that usually provide some peace, that is when it hit me. And this bad day only got worse.

The questions and fears and tears came out of nowhere, and they hit me hard. Really hard.

If I can't handle a day like today, how can I handle a "bad" day once the baby comes?
If I have no patience now, how will I possibly have the patience for the challenges ahead?
How can I provide the emotional support for three precious little girls when I am such a mess?
How can I do this?
Clearly, I can't do this.
There is no way I can do this.
God, you didn't pick the right woman.

The doubts just kept coming, and the cries to God were loud and painful.

Oh God, I just want her to be okay. I want this all to just be okay.


After a call to Jeff, I felt a little better, but my heart was extremely heavy. And then I was led to a copy of the sermon our pastor gave 2 weeks ago that I'd been meaning to read, and here is the verse that I saw:

"Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." (Romans 5: 3-5)

The verse instantly provided peace, but as I reflected on it a little more (while cleaning toilets no less), it occurred to me...

This is not about who I am now, but who I will become from this experience. In other words, God will use this experience to make me the Mom I need to be to this baby...and even the Mom I need to be for Emma and Kendall. He will give me the perseverance and the character. And the hope that will make me turn to him when I feel I'm not enough.

You see, it isn't about what I can't do. It's about what God can do.

Since we started our journey, a lot of people have told us that God "chose" me and Jeff to be this baby's parents. That He only picks special people to take care of such a special child. And I'll admit, those words have provided a lot of peace and reassurance. But in some ways, they've also provided a little bit of pressure. And for those of you that know me, I don't take pressure lightly.

But now, after tonight, I'm not so sure I believe those words. I think God could use any one of us to do anything He needs us to do. The point is not that Jeff and I are "special" or even the "right" people for this job. The point is that His power is so great that He can use even us to do His work. We just have to allow Him to work through us.

That knowledge gives an enormous amount of comfort and peace to my soul. It renews my heart and encourages my spirit.

"I can do everything through him who gives me strength." (Philippians 4:13)


As God forms this precious life inside of me, He is also forming me. What a blessing. What a comfort. What a God.

Foto Friday: Doses of Sunshine

The Beginning of Our Journey

I know the last few posts haven't been very informational, but I do intend to make this a place where you can find out the latest on our little one. However, I have a feeling I will also use this as a place to share my emotions, so I'll try and label future baby updates clearly in case you want to skip all the mushy stuff! ;)

I realize some of you might not actually know what is truly going on with our baby, so I will start at the beginning and do my best to be concise. As you can imagine, I could write 100 posts on the last 13 days, but I'll stick to the key points this time. Thoughts and reflections will come later...trust me, they are brewing.

Almost 2 weeks ago, we went for our routine 18-20 week ultrasound. We decided to find out the sex of the baby for the first time (I finally gave in), so we decided to bring Emma, our 4 year old daughter, with us (more on that later).

However, the sex of the baby became secondary once we learned that our baby has Myelomeningocele, the most severe form of Spina Bifida. Basically, during the early stages of development, our baby's spinal cord did not form correctly and actually failed to properly close. This means part of her spinal cord is literally sticking out of her back, leaving nerves exposed. Although this doesn't always lead to permanent nerve damage, it looks like it has in our baby's case.

The doctor was unable to visualize any movement in either of our baby's legs from the knee down. In other words, she wasn't kicking, and we couldn't get her to change position during the ultrasound. In fact, we have a photo of her with her leg sticking straight up in front of her...an image forever planted in my heart. This may indicate some level of permanent paralysis in her legs. Both of her feet are also clubbed, a secondary effect from the Spina Bifida.

Because she only weighed 7 ounces during the ultrasound and wouldn't change position, the doctor was unable to see just how much of her spinal cord has been affected. This is something we hope to find out at our next ultrasound, which is scheduled for the beginning of April.

The most concerning information was that our baby also has mild Hydrocephalus, which is unwanted fluid in her brain. This is the result of her exposed spinal cord pulling down on her brain (called Arnold-Chiari Malformation) and obstructing the correct flow of brain fluid. This is very common in Spina Bifida. However, as the spinal cord continues to pull, there is a chance that this fluid can continue to build up and put pressure on her brain. If that happens, there is the risk of mental challenges as well as physical challenges. Right now, our baby's fluid levels aren't overly concerning, but the next ultrasound will tell us if it is stable or if it is increasing.

So what does all of this mean? Well, it means that our baby will need surgery after she is born to cover her spinal cord. She may also need to have a shunt placed in her head to drain out the excess fluid. These are often permanent. She will also require surgery at some point to correct her clubbed feet.

As far as what it means long term, we just don't know. There is a chance more nerve damage will occur as our baby grows these next 19 weeks, but we are hopeful that God will prevent that from happening. We do not know if our baby will walk on her own some day, but, again, we our trusting God's plan for her life and will patiently see what He decides.

All of this was totally unexpected. Both of Emma and Kendall are active, healthy little girls. This does not run in our family. Only 1 in 1000 babies are born with this condition...1 in 1000. That number still blows my mind.

None of this is easy. Writing this isn't easy, but God is putting it my heart to share our baby's story so that people will pray for her...and boy are they praying! We have been overwhelmed at the amount of support and love we have received these last few weeks. God is so good! I can't tell you what an honor it is to carry a life in my womb that is already glorifying the Lord so much. Although I would never choose this for our baby or our family, in many ways, I actually feel blessed. I can't wait to see what God has in store for our precious angel. We are celebrating her life, and I am falling more and more in love with her every day.

Yes, the journey ahead is a long one. We will have many big decisions to make and a whole lot of learning to do. But I know now more than ever that God is with us every step of the way. Some days He will guide us, while others He will carry us. But He is there and always will be. We can feel it.

The Promise

When this world gives you rain



You need to dance in it

And soak in the life it brings.





For behind the clouds

Is the Son




And when He is shining,

There is always the promise of a rainbow.

Hope

I sit here and pray, "God, is this really happening?"

He gently reminds me, "It is, and it is okay."

He hugs me with the sun as I walk my girls across the yard. He gives me a gentle nudge and a tickle in my tummy to remind me of the life that needs me so much. He understands my cries, and He forgives me when doubt creeps in.

Our baby has Spina Bifida. An unexpected challenge, but a fact that has brought more hope and faith into our lives than we ever imagined. It's only been 6 days since we found out, but God is moving mountains and providing peace all at the same time. He is taking care of the little life in my womb, and we are whole-heartedly trusting that care. It is His plan, not ours.

We will hope, but we will celebrate and accept and love unconditionally.

We will love this child the way God loves her. She is perfect in His eyes. And, really, this is all that matters.

Foto Friday: Round 3

Can you see past all that drool?!! Baby B #3 is due August 2nd.

Details coming soon...lots of surprises and a little drama..just the way we like it around here. :)

Foto Friday: Christmas in January

"Better late than never" -- my moto of the last 4 years! ;)

Foto Friday: O Come Let Us Adore Him

I was so blessed this week with both of my girls' little Christmas programs. Both really focused on Christ...his birth...the REAL reason everyone (whether you admit it or not) is celebrating.

Of course...there were some jingle bells and red noses thrown in there too. It is a party after all!

Foto Friday: Still Thankful

Deadlines, volunteering, housework, bills, overall exhaustion, and fear of the future...

In the midst of it all, my heart knows what really matters.

Foto Friday: Cousins!

If there is one thing Emma is most passionate about, it is her cousins. She L.O.V.E.S her cousins. If she could spend every waking moment with them, she would. Kendall is also pretty smitten. Thankfully, my family is so awesome that my girls get to see them at least once a week, if not more. We are so blessed, and I hope they stay close as they get older.

Here are just a few pictures of all of my favorite kiddos!

A Fresh Start?

This blog layout has been soooo boring for sooooo long, that I thought it needed an update. At 11pm last night of course. It's not exactly what I would have designed for myself, but it was FREE and colorful and made me smile. So here it is.

And you may be thinking that this new look might motivate me to write more often. And you might be right, but we'll see.

For now, I'm just enjoying the happy trees and the thought that maybe I will find a few minutes during the week to write for fun again. But we'll see.