She's Here!

It's taken me a little while to write this because, well, I have simply had better things to do! :)

Let me start at the beginning. Friday, March 4th, we arrived at the hospital bright and early at 5:30 a.m. ready for our scheduled c-section. We weren't quite sure when we would get started because we were the second ones scheduled, but I think we finally went back around 9:00 a.m. As the time got closer and closer, I started to get so nervous, I actually thought I might throw up (although, I swear that could be all of the anti-nausea medications they gave me – blech!). But prayer and a lot of choosing not to dwell on my fears got me through the waiting, which was probably the worst part. 

When I finally got back to the operating room, they had the hardest time getting the anesthesia in (the procedure is the same as when getting an epidural). I lost count of how many times I was poked in the back – I guess being vertically challenged means that there is less room to work with between each vertebra. It was kind of nerve wracking, as it was hard not to wonder if the anesthesia would actually work. 

But eventually, everything was sorted out, Jordan was able to join me again, and it was time to start. Of course, I hardly remember Kieran's anymore because I was so tired, and I'm sure I don't remember all of the details of Elias', even though I wrote them both down. Still, this time around, the whole process seemed a lot more … aggressive. There was a lot of pushing and pulling and it seemed to take forever. Just like with Elias, they had to use the vacuum, this time because the baby's head was cockeyed. 

Nevertheless, at 9:51 a.m. we finally heard that first cry. When they announced, "It's a girl!" to us, Jordan and I were both in total shock. Every pregnancy we have entertained thoughts of a daughter, but with each boy the prospect seemed less and less likely – especially since boys run in the family. And this was all of her little face that I got to stare at while they finished taking care of me.

I felt so desperate for a good look at her face! Eventually, they took her to do her assessment, and about an hour after she was born, we were back in our room, and she was nursing like a little champ.

Our sweet baby girl, Adeline Hope, weighed 6 pounds, 11 ounces (another big surprise, since the boys were 8 pounds, 2 ounces and 8 pounds, 7 ounces) and was 19 inches long. She also had the tiniest little head (again, especially compared to our boys). We were delighted to see her head of dark hair after two bald babes and, for now, we think she looks a lot like Kieran did as a baby, but of course, still definitely her own person.

Kieran James (3 years, 11 months), Elias Finn (2 years, 4 months), and Adeline Hope

We are in love with our family of five, and we praise God for these souls He has entrusted us with for just a little while.

Nesting

We have 18 days until this baby arrives.

Eighteen. Days.

This morning, when I took the boys to the library, the librarian asked me, "So have you gotten everything ready for this one to come home?"

"Uhhhh … well, there's really not much to do when it's your third."

True and untrue.

Elias is still in "the nursery," and we haven't really figured out when we want to kick him out into Kieran's room. Of course, the baby will sleep in our room at first, so all that really requires is setting up the pack 'n play. :D

But do I still have a to-do list? You betcha! Somehow, what seemed like an eternity is all of the sudden just around the corner, and there are some serious nesting things I want to get checked off of my list. Unfortunately, we have had a few rounds of sicknesses go through our family, and that just really lets all of the air our of one's plans, doesn't it?

So today I decided to stop waiting for my grown-up helper to be well and healthy and available and coerce my little minions persuade my dear children to be my helpers, instead. For the 2.5 years that we have lived here, I have had my "pantry" in the closet of the nursery and kept our trash and can/bottle recycling bins in our coat closet. Since I have also been a stay-at-home mom now for over two years, as well, my baking and other kitchen projects have increased; therefore, I knew that wasn't going to work to have a little one slumbering in there just when I realize I need more brown sugar.

I wish I would have gotten some pictures of the boys hard at work today! Okay, so it was mostly Kieran who helped, but still, he was super into it! We emptied out the coat closet, swept, and scrubbed down the walls and the floor. I put away the jackets that we haven't been using this season, then we emptied my shelving unit so it could be moved. Once I had it in the closet (in the only position it would fit), Kieran carried each food item one-by-one so I could restock the shelves. :)

We got a new stainless steel trash can that sits in the kitchen (hopefully harder to accidentally knock over than the plastic ones?), and since I stopped buying pop/soda, we threw out both of our old cans (less scrubbing for me – yay!) We also threw out quite a few other things, so now the nursery closet is reorganized, and I need to decide how I want to use the space in there. And my so-called pantry is reorganized and more accessible to me, too. Maybe someday I'll have a real pantry, but in the meantime, I'm thankful for what we have (and for all the stuff I can sneakily store in our upright deep freezer).

Next on my list? The pit of despair that is our master closet. Time to get motivated!

Lovely Things

It's been awhile.

But, then again, that's pretty normal for me in this situation isn't it? I can't think of anything to write that's as important as the news I want to share.

Baby number four – and hopefully our third to hold in our arms – is due around March 10th of next year! I am finally past the morning sickness (although brushing my teeth and changing diapers is always a potential trigger), and Kieran is getting pretty excited. Most of the time he says we are going to have a baby Elias (as in, a smaller version of Elias), but he has also said we are going to have a baby Eunice (our friends' baby daughter), a baby horse, a baby cow, and a baby octopus, of all things.

Goob #1

Goob #2

I love these boys so much, and as much as I have thought to myself every day for the last month or so, "What are we getting ourselves into?!" I am so excited to add another sibling to the mix – brother or sister, we don't care! That being said, after pulling out twin boys from the baby gender predictor at MOPS yesterday (suckers out of a bag), I am relieved to say that there is only one baby in there. :)

Look at that sweet little thing! We are right on track at 14 weeks and happy to say that there is no placenta previa this time around. This was the longest I have ever had to wait to hear my baby's heartbeat, and I cried tears of sweet relief at the sound. What a perfect reason to smile and be overflowing with joy on this day of remembrance … which also happens to be 11 years to the day since the hubs and I started dating. So many reasons to praise God today!

Gravity

It can be so hard to be the one who consistently strives to help your children be aware of their sin and to help them understand the root of why we grieve over it and its effects – especially when we know we still have so much we ourselves need to bring before God. 

"Let there be tears for what you have done. Let there be sorrow and deep grief. Let there be sadness instead of laughter, and gloom instead of joy. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up in honor" (James 4:9-10, NLT).

How do we help our children go through a process we ourselves daily fail at? God wants me to see the gravity of my own sin and to be humbled by the grace I need for the responsibility I have to help my children realize their sin and sorrow appropriately. I myself often sit on the fence and flirt with the world while I say I belong to God. 

But then I read this:

Do you think the Scriptures have no meaning? They say that God is passionate that the Spirit he has placed within us should be faithful to him. And he gives grace generously. As the Scriptures say, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”

I am not in this alone. I have the Spirit inside me who desires to passionately battle with me as I face each and every trial and temptation – big or small. And I have grace. Generous grace. Every time I acknowledge my own sin and weaknesses, I have clear access to a wellspring of grace that pools into the dark and empty places within me. I have eyes that can better see God's wisdom as I seek to lead precious souls to see the importance of this daily process we go through as we fight the good fight within our home. And I have peace that while I may only see the difficulty of the here and now, God sees the glorious result of small moments of faithfulness building upon each other until we reach eternity. 

Hallelujah. He giveth more grace.

Source

Even When My Eyes Can't See

Hope.

Brokenness. 

Have you ever faced a mountain so big that you cannot see over or around it? Has it seemed so permanent that you start to believe it will always, always be there and, rather than continually bringing it before God, you start to believe (though you may never say it aloud) that He doesn't care about that particular mountain?

Sometimes the world steals our hope and pride or fear steal our ability to be broken before God, and we simply give up. We find it easier to stop thinking about the insurmountable and focus on what we can do and what we can change. We pour our hearts into another project, another soul, all the while knowing that God is waiting, waiting for us to resume the trek He has set before us. "Let me climb that hill!" we cry out desperately. "These people need my attention!" we mutter in self-justification. We can't understand why God would have us take up the climb one more time, when we have no surety that we will ever reach the top.

This weekend, I had the opportunity to visit my grandma's church, down south.

The pastor talked about John 13, when Jesus washes the feet of His disciples – nothing I hadn't heard before. But as my heart was being crushed by this mountain, I was so ready for His Word to speak life to me. Jesus was doing something that confounded everyone. He took on the mantle of a servant and willingly did one of the dirtiest and lowliest jobs: washing the dirt and grime of traveling on dusty roads and through animal droppings off of the crusty feet of these working-class men (no male pedicures, here). And Peter – our beloved Peter with whom we can all identify – just could not comprehend why Jesus would do this, nor how he could allow his revered teacher to see and touch and smell the filth collected on his feet. And when Jesus explained that if he didn't allow Him to wash his feet, then he could have no part in Him, Peter cried, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!"

As we sat in a chilly, air-conditioned room on a hot and muggy Sunday morning, we were reminded that Jesus was able to see past the sin of those closest to them to serve them physically and minister to their souls. That morning, what Jesus said to Peter struck me in a way it never had before:

"What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand."

Sometimes, we just cannot understand why God seems to be so slow to answer. So we stop asking. We cannot understand how things will ever improve when they just seem to be getting worse. So we stop hoping. We begin to forget that, in all things, God is for us. So we stop running to God, asking Him to break our hearts once more.

For me, this mountain is the family I grew up in. And while I would never share all the details, it is enough to know that there are many broken and strained relationships and many, many hurts that happened even before I was born that are still bearing fruit today. While we spent several days away from home and with different family members, I came face-to-face with some of those and felt the weight of a broken, mostly unbelieving family press down on me again.

But one glorious event shone through, like suddenly stumbling upon a mountain pass.

I got to meet my little brother.

A brother I hadn't seen since he was six months old and I was five.

And I never, ever thought this would happen. At some point, it just seemed like too much time had passed for reconciliation to occur. And while everything was not perfect or golden, nor would I expect it to be, I saw God answering my prayers and the petitions of others. He gave me an overwhelming sense of peace and a deep-seated knowledge that He is still there, working in the midst of what so often seems like an impossible situation. And though I may not understand now, someday I will stand with Him on the brink of eternity, He will show me what He was doing, and I will understand.

Far be it from me to not believe

Even when my eyes can't see

And this mountain that's in front of me

Will be thrown into the midst of the sea

Through it all, through it all

My eyes are on You

It is well

Through it all, through it all

Beauty in the Ordinary

About this time last Sunday my brother and I were driving into Chicago for a very impromptu trip. Our loving grandma (my stepfather's mother) and the matriarch of the family for almost 40 years had passed away after a five-month battle with declining health. This woman survived the death of her husband when she was in her early fifties, breast cancer on more than one occasion, and was the last of her siblings left. She always took care of everyone and worked hard without complaint.

I was surprised, honored, and a little terrified when I was asked to give the eulogy at her funeral on Monday. We remembered her family, her work, and her friends; however, what has stuck with me the most and I have been thinking on all week is the fact that Grandma was born, raised, and lived in the same neighborhood in Chicago for all of her 90 years. Most of the things that she accomplished and the people that she loved were in that neighborhood, too, at one time in her life. She didn't have to travel around the world to see and be thankful for all that she had around her. I am left with the overwhelming reminder that the life we live is made up of moments of faithfulness and sheer ordinariness.

And the sum of those moments is something truly beautiful.