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I saw an awesome pregnancy shirt the other day that had a picture on it like you would see on a computer that was loading a program.  Totally made me smile.  I haven't really posted much on this pregnancy so far, so I thought it was about time for a quick update.  (I actually go back to all of my old posts on my previous blog about the other kiddo's pregnancies just to see how I was feeling/looking/doing at this point in pregnancy... and I get super bummed when I didn't post anything.)

Baby and I have reached Week 30.  Definitely into the third trimester.  And overall feeling really really good.  Thus far pregnancy #4 has been the easiest of all of them (minus the INSANE nausea I had first trimester.)   But I only had to deal with one puke-fest, so that was pretty awesome.  But I have a feeling that things will begin to get a little dicier as the third trimester goes on.  Since Will came at 33 weeks, my uterus is about to hit the size that it was when they did his c-section.  Research tells me that I'll probably start feeling pulling pains and aching around my incision site as the scar tissue stretches and the adhesions break up.  This will likely COMPLETELY freak me out, so if you've got some extra prayers to send my way over the next month, I'd be greatly appreciative!

I've got a new OB this time around and he's pretty much AMAZING.  He seems to have much less of a "god-complex" than the other OB's I've met with and that makes me happy.  He's also against doing the gestational diabetes test unless necessary which seriously rocks because who wants to drink that nasty sugar grossness that they make you drink?  He seems really willing to listen to my desires for this baby and how it comes into this world, and yet he still will give me the down-low of how he thinks things will go.

I've also, for the first time EVER, hired a doula to help Andrew and I this time around.  She's delivered over 300 babies and has 8 kiddos of her own.  She's uber faith-filled and really neat and I have a feeling she will be an asset to us as we approach our due date.  She's a great resource for me between appointments and she's worked with my OB many times which makes me happy.

This is also the first pregnancy that I've been working out at least 1-3 times a week the WHOLE time.  The girls at Curves marvel at how much bigger my belly is every week, and my working out always spawns great discussions about kids and birthing and the like which makes my work out go by super fast.  I don't know how long I'll continue the workouts, but I can pretty much tailor my workout to how I'm feeling on any particular day, so I'm going to try to keep it up as long as possible.

The biggest issue Andrew and I are having this time around is naming this kiddo.  Andrew doesn't come up with names (I guess that's my job), but he tends to respond with "I don't hate it."  I've gotten frustrated on more than one occasion and decided U4 just won't get named, but then I always have some new fun name pop in my head.  Which I share with Andrew.  To which he responds, "I don't hate it."  GAH!  Oh well... in theory, we've got a couple months left, so maybe he'll more than not hate something I come up with soon.

Hmmm... I guess that's about all.  I can't believe how big my belly is getting and I frequently ask Andrew, "Are you sure I get a LOT bigger than this?" to which he responds, "Oh yea... you get WAAAAAY bigger than that!!"  Yipes... Seriously?

(FYI, I actually wrote this post about 2.5 weeks ago, but it's taken a while to post it... So I'm actually even closer to U4's arrival!!)

A Love Story: Part II - The Bumpy Road of Engagement

You always imagine as a girl growing up that it will be so exciting to be engaged.  Planning a wedding, spending time with your beloved, knowing that soon your day-to-day life will drastically change.  But Andrew and I, while enjoying all of those things, found engagement to be incredibly trying and difficult.  I have heard from many friends since then, that they too, really disliked the period of engagement.

I don't think we surprised anyone too much as we started to call family and friends to tell them.  My parents knew it was coming because Andrew had asked their permission.  And the rest of our family and friends knew it was coming because most of them were avid readers of my blog, and they had read how in love we were.  My most favorite memory of announcing our engagement was telling our friend Erin.  She had told me months before that Andrew was delightfully quirky and "you MUST marry him."  When we told her, at her house, on the fourth of July she screamed and hugged us.  I made her re-enact it so I could get a picture.

But after the initial "WOO HOO! We're engaged!" wore off and we had to start planning things, engagement got a little more dicey.  One of the first problems we ran into was picking our wedding party.  It seemed only natural that since he had two sisters and I had two brothers that we would put them in the party.  But what about our friends?  And what do you do when you marry a man who doesn't have a ton of guy friends but you have some really great girl friends that you want to include?  A bit of drama ensued around that.  But nothing too terrible.  I ended up with three bridesmaids and three honorary bridesmaids.  And when you put 6 women together to plan showers and stuff... or even try to get 6 very different women to like the dress you pick for them... well, let's just say, it's not all roses and daisies.  They were gracious enough to keep most of their opinions to themselves but the bride always hears murmurings even if she's not supposed to.  Oh well.

Early in the engagement I had a lot of questions about my vocation.  I had felt that I had been fighting a call to religious life for at least 4 years, and I worried and wondered if I actually had said "no" to God when I said "yes" to Andrew.  But through much prayer and discussion, it just seemed right to be with Andrew. And I never felt I was fighting my call to be Andrew's wife.

By far the most disconcerting part of being engaged were all of the naysayers we encountered along the way. We had friends who told us we were spending "too much time together." We had family encouraging us to wait longer... think harder... even don't get married to each other at all.  Their opinions weighed heavily on us.  Their sentiments thwarted a time that I had imagined would be joyful. People weren't shy about expressing their thoughts to us.  They came from both sides of the family.  For different reasons and at different times.   We heard everything from, "She doesn't want to marry YOU, she just wants to be married," to "Are you sure you can marry a man who will never let you spend money? Can you be happy living that way?" Throughout marriage prep, I kept getting a sense that if God wants something to happen, then the devil certainly does NOT want it to happen, so I leaned on that and just prayed that our loved ones would someday understand why things were right between Andrew and I, and we really were incredibly happy, and we were very assured that we were doing the right thing.  There was a peace in our love that neither of us had ever experienced, and it seemed no matter how much other people tried to shake that peace, Andrew and I were always able to fall back on it.

It wasn't always easy to regain that peace. I found out years later that Andrew nearly called off the engagement on numerous occasions.  But I vividly remember at least one conversation with him when I knew he was questioning us. We were standing by his car and I could see the worry and doubt in his eyes from a conversation he had just had with someone who didn't want us to be together. I was crying and crying because I just didn't understand why people couldn't see the peace that we felt together... the love that we had together... the depth that we shared.

I said to him, "Did you love me yesterday?"
"Yes," he said.
"Did you love me an hour ago?"
"Yes," he said.
"Then why would one conversation with someone who doesn't believe in us change your mind? I'm still the same girl you fell in love with no matter what they say."

We considered postponing the wedding on numerous occasions. One of our priest friends told us, "If you're going to get married, then get married!"  But we knew our choice of a May wedding would mean Andrew still had a year of grad school to finish, and we might not be ready for a baby right away.  We considered postponing to October so many times, but for some reason, the May date just seemed more right. (We now know that it was because our little Mia would be a wedding gift from God in May.)

Through all of the turmoil, angst and planning, Andrew and I made sure our communication was top priority.  If we had doubts, we talked about them.  If someone told us we were making a bad decision, we stood strong together.  We prayed together.  We talked to our Marriage Prep priest. We asked for our friends prayers.  We forged a relationship that could withstand the force of all kinds of things and it only made us stronger as we headed towards our wedding day. Although I would have happily avoided all of the tribulations we experienced, I think we are stronger for them today.

A Love Story: Part I

On February 28, 2005, my Andrew and I had our first official date.  After a month of flirting and hanging out in group settings together, he had finally asked me to come to a basketball game with him, and I happily (perhaps even too-excitedly) agreed.  I was so nervous that day.  It had been months since I'd been on a real date.  Andrew showed up at the door holding a pink rose.  As usual, he was so confident and calm and collected, that I was put right at ease.  And off we went to eat at Il Vicino (where I stupidly ordered a salad that had anchovies on it because I was too nervous to read the menu). GROSS.  And then we went to watch the Shockers play some hoops.  Awkward moment of the night came when Andrew had to tell me that he had actually invited two other guys to the game long before he realized this would be a date... so we shared a bit of our first date... but it gave me a good dose of the reality that is my now-husband and it really didn't matter at all in the end.  He put his arm around me during the game. When he took me home that night, we prayed night prayer together.  And we talked and talked and talked about our pasts and our futures and all the things you're probably not supposed to talk about on a first date. He introduced me to Proverbs 31: The Ideal Wife.  I promised him I would read it.  I didn't know then that it would become one of the readings at our wedding.

That was the beginning, and it was a whirlwind romance from that day forward.  Our second date a few days later was a movie night at Andrew's apartment. He wanted me to see the Notebook which he had seen but I had not.  When I arrived he handed me a rosary and said "I thought we could pray first."  So we prayed together.  After the movie, he turned on some music, and danced with me in his living room.  I remember hearing "When You Say Nothing at All" and "I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore."  I left that night in a dreamy daze.  The boy had still not kissed me, which I actually thought was super awesome, and I was quickly falling head over heels for him.

Days passed, and we became basically inseparable.  I can't remember whether our first kiss came first or Andrew said "I love you" first, but some time in the beginning three weeks both of those things blew me away completely.  Even though I knew that early in the relationship that I loved him too, I was totally not prepared to say it yet.  So I waited a little longer (but not too much.)

We only had one memorable fight during our courtship.  I got angry because Andrew would tell me he was going to call, and then he wouldn't.  Looking back, it seems really ridiculous that I was so mad about it considering we saw each other almost every day.  But for me, it was a trust thing... and when someone told me they were going to do something, I expected them to do it.  I was also projecting on Andrew some of the remnants of a previous college relationship where my trust had been completely violated.  It took months for me to realize that he wasn't going to lie to me like that guy had.  I think we almost broke up that night, but thanks be to God, we did not.

I remember a moment in late spring when Andrew insisted that we go to my parent's house. He was ready to meet them.  I was so nervous, but he was not at all.  They hit it off right away.  I showed Andrew the church where my mom, grandma and great grandma had all gotten married.  And he told me that we would get married there too.  At one point during that weekend, we were sitting alone in my folk's basement and Andrew put his hand on my belly.  We both closed our eyes and saw our future before us.  The marriage, the babies, the life filled with love.  So many people thought we were crazy and moving too quickly.  But there was something supernatural about the way we clicked.  For us, there was no doubt that God has put us together. By June we had met each other's families and were well on our way to engagement.

On July 3 (four months after our first date), Mr. Andrew put a ring on my finger.  It was a no-frills, unplanned, perfect proposal.  We sat on a couch at my house after a night on the town with friends.  Neither of my roommates were home.  Andrew looked at me seriously and asked, "Do you think I'm conventional?"  My answer (with a strange look on my face) was, "Um... no!!"  He got up... walked to the other couch (where I was apparently supposed to be sitting), and pulled the ring out from under it.  He came back over to me, got on one knee, and proposed.  We both cried.

...to be continued...

If I Could Turn Back Time: Advice for Rookie Preggos

As my Facebook posts, blog updates and general conversations likely indicate to those of you who know me, my birth experience with William profoundly changed the way I view pregnancy, labor and birth.  It changed me in lots of ways.  Probably the biggest and most important change I experienced was truly being able to "let go and let God."  I really DIDN'T have a choice in a lot of things with Will's pregnancy.  And no matter how much I longed for a "natural" birth, I knew it couldn't happen with him.  So I had to give it to God and trust we'd both be okay.

But through that journey with my little William and in the two years since, I have done some serious soul searching and internet searching, and REsearching on all things pregnancy and birth.  I've learned a great deal of unfortunate things about the American medical establishment and their current cultural view of how babies should enter this world.  I've learned that frequently moms aren't really given choices or options anymore.  They're told what the doc believes is BEST, and they're made to believe that this is their only option.  I've experienced it first hand.  It's sad, to say the least, that because of the tremendous amount of litigation in our culture, doctors are now afraid to "allow" women to birth their children naturally.  Induction is easier.  Sections are easier.  Scheduling is easier.  And though all three of those things increase the risk to mom and baby, and though the c-section rate in the United States is very close to an all-time high, that doesn't change anyone's minds.

Well, in all my reflecting, I've been pondering a list of things I wish I'd known when Mia and Vince were born.  These are just a few of my thoughts... more of them always seem to pop up.  But if you're a new momma, or an older momma who hasn't ever thought about questioning your doctor, I hope maybe my thoughts will at least give you some things to think about.

1) It's okay to say "Thanks. But, NO thanks."  I vividly remember the morning in the hospital when I was in labor with Vince.  I had gone into labor about 4 hours before my scheduled induction and my doc said it was "okay to let me go for awhile without starting pitocin."  But after 3 hours of laboring and continued progression, I guess things just weren't moving fast enough for her.  So she called the resident and said, "Let's start Pitocin to speed things up."  Momma instinct (and having experienced induction with Mia) kicked in and the first thing I said to the resident was, "Can I say, 'no'?"  The dumbfounded resident was all kinds of shocked that I would even suggest saying "no" to my doctor and thus offered me no reassurance.  And I let them start the dreaded Pitocin.  I regret that to this day.  An hour and a half of hell all because my doctor wanted to "speed things up."  LISTEN TO YOUR INSTINCT.  YOU CAN SAY NO.

2) Don't trust the scare tactics.  It's so easy in late pregnancy to let your doc convince you that induction is a good idea.  You're tired of being fat.  You can't tie your shoes.  You want to meet your baby.  And if you're past due (like I was with #1 & #2), you've pretty much convinced yourself that baby will never come.  So when the doc tells you "This baby is getting really big,"  or "Your risks get higher and higher the longer we wait," it's easy to believe them.  And it's extra convenient to just get induced.  But induction isn't natural.  It increases your risk for so many things.  And, frankly, the PAIN from pitocin SUCKS.  Don't be scared.  Trust your body.  Your baby will come when your baby is ready.  It's absolutely normal to not have your baby until 42 weeks.  You think you're two weeks over, but on average, you're actually only a few days over when most kiddos arrive.

3) "All the matters is that you have a healthy baby." Sorry to break it to you, folks, that really isn't ALL that matters.  People love to give you this line when you've had a birth experience that was less than ideal.  They say, "But look at that little bundle you have... it's all worth it now."  Unfortunately, that just isn't true.  Birth is a profoundly personal and spiritual experience.  And while it is AMAZING to have that little baby in your arms, the way that baby gets into the world really REALLY does matter.  A traumatic birth experience can cause physical pain for years to come.  But the emotional and mental angst that can be caused by a bad experience, in my opinion, is far worse.  I know mommas who've had PTSD from their births.  I know mommas who can't even consider getting pregnant again because their fears are too high based on their last experience. After everything that went down with Will, of course I felt blessed that he was here, and we both were healthy.  But I still grieved.  I grieved the fact that I didn't get to hold him right away.  I grieved the fact that I had to go home without my baby for 2 weeks.  I grieved the fact that my guts had been cut open and my birth experiences from then on out would not be the same.  And I lived in fear of another pregnancy for a long time.  Could I go through it again?  Would it even be safe?  How much risk was I willing to take?

There are so many more little things that I could write about this.  And I desperately wish sometimes that I could go back to the births of #1 and #2 and tell myself these things.  But I can't do that.  So all I can do is hope that I can help other new mommies be educated.  Yes, you should be able to trust your doctor.  But you should also know that your doctor is human and your doctor has priorities that aren't always 100% in YOUR best interest.  It's okay to question.  It's okay to follow your instinct.  And it's okay to do research even if your doctor says "there are no other options."  You are the momma.  And you need to believe in yourself to know what's best for your baby.  And if you can't decide, then seek out experts to help you.  Find birth professionals like doulas and midwives who believe in natural birth.  Find other moms who have been in your shoes and talk out your fears with them.  You are not the first momma in the world to be worried or to have faced whatever problem you might be facing.  And when you find peace in one of your choices, you'll know which choice to make.

Easy Eggplant Parmesan

I haven't blogged in two months, but tonight's supper was just too delicious to NOT post the recipe.  It was half from memory and half made up, but it turned out great, so here you go...

Easy Eggplant Parm
(all amounts are approximate)

1 Eggplant
Salt
1/2 cup Parmesan Cheese (or Parm/Reggano) - I used the fridge stuff, not fresh
3 cups Rice/Corn Flakes
1/2 tsp basil
1 tsp italian seasoning
2 eggs
Butter/Olive Oil/Cooking oil of your choice
Jar of Spaghetti Sauce
1/2-3/4 cup Mozzarella Cheese

The first thing you need to do is "sweat" your eggplant.  1-2 hours before you plan to start cooking, peel your eggplant and slice it into 1/8 inch slices (pretty thin, but not paper thin or anything).  In a colander layer the eggplant slices and salt.  You can really salt them up because you're going to rinse it all off eventually and the salt helps take any bitter-taste out of your eggplant.  Sit your colander of eggplant slices and salt in the sink and put something heavy on top of the eggplant to kinda smash it down (I use two glass bowls that would fit in the top of my colander).

Once you've waited 1-2 hours (or 30 minutes if you're in a rush), you can take the slices out and RINSE THEM REALLY WELL.  And, people, I've made the mistake in the past of not rinsing them enough, and salty Eggplant Parm is NO BUENO... so rinse those things!!!  Then lay them on a double layer of paper towels on your counter.  Meanwhile, you can prepare your breading.  You can be really simple and just mix some italian breadcrumbs with some parmesan cheese if you want, but I wanted mine gluten free.  So I put 3 cups of rice chex in my Ninja, then threw in some parmesan cheese, basil and italian seasoning and whirred it all together.  Dump that on a nice place or large flattish bowl.  In another bowl, crack your two eggs and scramble them together with a little bit of water.

Put your spaghetti sauce in a sauce pan and start warming it up.  (Mine was on medium low the whole time I was cooking the eggplant.) Melt some butter/oil of your choice in a big frying pan and heat to medium heat.  Now dunk your eggplant slices in the egg, then the breadcrumbs, and fry them up until they're golden brown.  You'll have to do this quite a few times unless you have a really big pan.  As soon as you remove the done eggplant, sit it on a plate with a paper towel (to soak up excess oil) and then sprinkle with mozzarella cheese. (You can keep this plate in a warm oven if you're concerned with it getting cold. I wasn't.)  After your last batch of eggplant comes out of the skillet you can start dishing up the plates.  Ours included a few slices of mozzarella-covered-eggplant, a nice spoonful or two of spaghetti sauce and sprinkle of parmesan on top.  We had a side-salad with our eggplant parm.

YUMMY!

Monumental Day

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, I have a VERY important announcement to make. Something happened today that hasn't happened in a really long time. I witnessed something I have never witnessed before. It was astounding. Astonishing. Amazing. Surreal.

Today, this 23rd day of November in the year 2012, my dear husband, who has been a vegetarian for the past 16 years VOLUNTARILY ATE MEAT!!! (I say voluntarily because there have been a few accidents along the way, not including the cream of chicken that I use in his casseroles). but I digress. Today at his family's thanksgiving celebration, my dear husband decided that he would try the delicious wild caught turkey that we were feasting upon. And he not only nibbled, he ate a whole piece!!!!!

Does this mean I can start cooking more meat in this house? Who will catch some more wild stuff that Andrew believes is healthier?? Do I have hunter friends?

Best. Thanksgiving. Ever.

At the foot of the cross

There's something unexplainable about the connection of a mom to her children. It comes from somewhere deep within and bonds you to them in a way you can't be bonded to any other. It is this bond that causes us to hurt when they hurt, struggle when they struggle, rejoice when they rejoice, and triumph when they triumph.

On Monday morning I arrived home from work and asked Andrew how our sick little boys were doing. They had both started on bad colds the previous day and Will had not slept well at all. Andrew said "okay... Just bad colds" and rushed off to work in his normal pattern. But my first look and listen to baby Will told me something different. He sat on the couch and sleepily stared at me with droopy eyes. His breaths were coming far faster than usual and he seemed to be struggling with each exhale. My mommy instinct said that even though Vince was going in that afternoon for a check up, I needed to get Will in ASAP. So I called the pediatrician and off we went.

The waiting room was agony. Vince happily watched the fish in the tank, but William wouldn't leave my lap. He wasn't talking or pointing at the fish. He just sat there limp, struggling to breathe and clutching me. Patient after patient was called back for their appointment and I just prayed we would be next.

Finally we got to see the nurse practitioner. The good news was that his oxygen levels were fine, but she said that his airways were just inflamed and he needed a breathing treatment. We were sent home with a nebulizer and an oral steroid prescription, and told to come back the next morning for a follow up.

After only two treatments my little man was doing so much better. He was like a different kid the next morning at his follow up. Laughing, playing, singing. Even smiling at the nurses! And I was a different momma.

It's so hard when they are sick and there's not much you can do. A mom feels their agony but can't take it away. During this small blip in our daily life I was transported back to the NICU and all those memories of my tiny baby hooked up to monitors and tubes lit up my memory.

It made me think of what agony Mary must have gone through watching Jesus die on the cross. I turned to her many times that day to help me. The pain she must have felt for him is unimaginable.