Welcome to the Family, Mataya Hope.

 Mataya Hope was born at 4:56 pm on March 18, and from the very moment she was placed on my chest, the entire focus of the hospital staff was having us ready for the kids to come see ASAP.

I had an absolutely wonderful labor and delivery nurse, Kami, who had been laughing all day as Sierra texted,  "is she here yet?"  Kami was determined that nothing would get in the way of our 5 at home meeting their baby Tuesday!

So - once she was laying on my chest, healthy and beautiful, a new race  - Operation Family Unification - began.  Kami, Chad, and I decided that the kids could arrive at 7.  And let me assure you, we were rushing things to be ready.

The hospital staff was truly amazing.  They were also a bit shocked and awed that we really had 5 kids at home, and perhaps a bit curious to see them all.  They allowed us to keep Mataya in the room from the moment she was born until after the kids arrived.  So when the kids first met their baby sister, she had not even been to the nursery at all yet.  She was diapered, but her cord had not been clipped short, she had not had a bath, and she was naked under the layers of blankets in which she was swaddled.

I am most thankful for their flexibility.  If they had been sticklers about hospital protocol the kids would have had to wait another day to meet Mataya, and they would have been devastated!  And in all honesty, the "race" was also a bit exhausting.

We had promised the kids that they would be first to meet the baby.  We vowed to not reveal her name or send anyone photos until they had met her.  With the age span of our kids, we really wanted the kids to know that they have a special place in this baby's life.  They are special and important to her in ways that no one else is.  We really felt that sibling bonding needed to come first.  

 Sierra was first to hold her.

Her comment was and is, "Oh!!! She is just so perfect!"

 Krissy keeps saying how gorgeous she is.

Though I can see traces of all the kids in her, Mataya looks most like Krissy did as an infant.  They have similar coloring in skin and hair.  

Krissy and Sierra also want to know when they can start painting her toe nails and braiding her hair.

I am so thankful for the amazing big sisters Miss Mataya has.  They will be amazing sources of inspiration and guidance for this tiny one as she grows.

 Joshua marched right into my hospital room, dashed to the sink to wash his hands, and said "let me hold my baby!"  He was so, so excited.  He had been waiting and waiting to meet her.  He was "tired of being the baby!" so her birth was more than welcome with him.

He continues to be absolutely precious with her.  He is sitting next to me as I type, snuggling her in a soft blanket, giving me play by play of her preciousness - "Mom, her nails are so tiny!  She is just so cute!  She smells so good.  How can she be so sweet? etc..."  

 Grandpa Scott had the next turn.

 Then Brenna and Grandma Donna arrived.

Brenna got one quick hold and then the nurses insisted on taking Mataya to the nursery.

I grabbed her quick and pealed back her blankets so the kids could see her newness - the cord, her wrinkles and unwashed skin.  Then the nurses took her away.

 We could see her under the warmer through the glass.

We chatted for a bit, and then Grandma and Grandpa took the kids home for bed.

At this point I was so exhausted.  I had been at the hospital since 7 am being poked and prodded.  It was about 8:15 PM at that point and my body had been through quite a bit, plus I was in desperate need of supper!  Thankfully my mom had brought that!

Chad and I headed back to the room to eat while they checked out our girl.  

Jamison had to work until 10 PM the night Mataya was born.  His boss refused his request to leave early, so we were unable to talk to Jay until 10:45 that evening.  He was really bummed to not be with us.  (Us too!) In this world of instant everything, I was feeling intense pressure to update people.  At the same time, I wanted to make sure Jamison was in the know first!  I  also desperately needed to just have a minute to breathe and enjoy.  Life has changed so much since Krissy was born!  At that time no one expected to be instantly informed of anything.  It was so much simpler!

I was finally able to talk to Jay at 10:45.  He gave us permission to send people her picture, name, etc...  though he was not able to see her until the following day.

Sleep is never peaceful at the hospital.  Between adrenaline running high, waking for feedings and vitals, uncomfortable beds, new noises, and an aching body - I did not sleep much.  I did spend quite a bit of time gazing at my baby and trying to soak her in.

 I continue to be in complete awe that she is here.

I really had a baby.

It is nearly too amazing to comprehend.

The nurses took Mataya at 6 for some tests, so I jumped in the shower - expecting a busy day.

 Grammy and Grandma Great Hoff were there to see her right away in the morning!

(They are checking out her hair!  She has some crazy beautiful locks!)

Finally Jamison arrived!

I felt so much better after he had a chance to meet his sister.

He did not balk when I placed her in his arms, though previously he has always refused to hold infants.

I think he is a bit in awe of her tiny-ness.

We were also visited by several friends and "interupted" by many doctors, nurses, lab techs, etc...

By 3:30 PM, I was watching the clock.  I was feeling totally overstimulated.  I needed to get HOME!  There is a blood test they need to wait 24 hours to do, and I was determined that we would leave at 5!

Before we headed out the door, my brother and nieces were able to take a quick peak.

 Adrianna is nearly 12 and so good with babies!  I am glad she was able to see Mataya that day.

 Lexi got some snuggles, too.

Then Grandpa, Brenna and Joshua stopped on their way to church.

In all honesty, I pretty much kicked everyone out.  I tried, and more than likely failed to be gracious, but I just HAD to get home.  I was so tired and feeling completely overstimulated by the constant commotion of it all.  I could not wait to get home.  Thankfully Chad and my nurse read me well.  They had us packed up and ready to go by a few minutes after 5:00.

 Sweet Mataya Hope is a gentle, patient, serene baby.

She was nearly as overstimulated as her momma, but when we got her buckled into her seat she went right to sleep.

Home was quiet!

Chad grilled brats for Jay, Sierra, and I.  The rest of the kids were at church.

After we ate, I grabbed my baby and hid out in my bedroom nursing her and napping.

By the time the kids came home, I felt much more human.

 There is just no place like home.

Mataya's first night at home was fairly uneventful.

Like almost all babies, she woke up about the time the rest of the family headed off to bed.

She and I slept snuggled up together.

Thursday morning Chad made breakfast and then got everyone off to school.

And then it happened. .  .

I was home all alone with my baby.

Sigh.

It was absolute perfection.

We rocked and napped and snuggled.

And that is ALL we did.

I felt totally restored by the time sweet Brenna Joy skipped off the bus at 4 with one goal in mind. . .

 let me hold Mataya!

That has become the routine.

Busy evenings filled with noise and the delightful chaos of our family

and days sent like this!

My heart is incredibly full.

The blessings of the Lord are completely overwhelming.

Welcome to our family, Mataya Hope.
We are so very thankful for you beautiful one.

So very thankful.

She is Here!

She is here!

Baby Girl Dietrich arrived at 4:56 on Tuesday, March 18.

And if still-wet baby photos along with labor and delivery stories, offend you - skip this post.  There is one above that contains ONLY post delivery sweetness.

In all honesty, in this age of birth plans and momma's trying to decide just how they want their labor and deliveries to go, this baby's birth would be a complete fail.  If I were one to make a birth plan and expect it to be followed it would have gone much differently.  However, I am not one to write a detailed birth plan.  It may be old school, but my "birth" plan has always been to be flexible, to adapt, to follow the advice of the medical personal - while thinking and questioning on my own a bit,  and in the midst of all the chaos to try and be fully present and enjoy the moment.

I had really wanted to go into labor naturally this time.  I had planned to go at least a week beyond my due date if need be and wait for natural labor to begin.  After being induced with all the other kids, I really wanted a less planned, less clinical labor day.  However, since my blood pressure decided to climb, that was not to be.

I arrived at the hospital on Tuesday morning, March 18, at 7 am, knowing I would be induced.  Chad had an early morning meeting, and I insisted he go to it.  I knew it would be hours before anything exciting happened, so it seemed senseless for him to sit in my hospital room watching boring things like blood draws and IV's being started.

The medical team took over in a flurry of activity.  Blood was drawn.  An IV was started.  Monitors were hooked up.  Antibiotics were hung.  The endless cervical checks began.  (I was 2 cm dilated at this point.)

My previous inductions had gone very quickly.  The doctor had broken my water, started pitocin, and two of our babies were born within two hours.

This time a different procedure was used, and somehow I knew from the start that it would be a much slower process.  I had warned everyone - from the kids to my labor nurse - that I did not expect the same crazy fast delivery this time.  I am glad I was prepared.

At about 8:30 the nurse placed a tiny pill of something called cytotech directly on my cervix.  She explained that the doctor's say it is like dynamite.  It can take a while to ignite, but once it does. . . watch out.  After it was inserted I needed to lay flat for a bit over an hour.  As the cytotech soaked in, she ran a bag full of antibiotics in through my IV since I was strep B positive this delivery.

Chad arrived between 9:30 and 10:00.  At that point I was having some pretty minor cramping.  We were then instructed to start walking laps, with the idea that walking would speed up labor.

By 11:30, I was bored and impatient.  (Probably foolishly so.)  I could tell it was going to be a long afternoon, so I begged for lunch.  They brought me some soup and a sandwich right away.

My doctor came to check on me at 12:00.  At that point I was maybe 3 cm dilated, and feeling really good.  If I had been at home, I would more than likely not have suspected labor - but I would have started to notice intermittent contractions.  She broke my water.  I asked when she wanted to start pitocin.  She laughed at me.  She said that we should walk for a while and see what happened.  She cautioned once again that once cytotech "ignites" it "explodes."

So we walked.

If I had to do this labor again, I would just relax at this point.  Things were progressing.  Contractions were certainly taking place - but the labor was "gentle."  We walked laps and chatted until 2:00.  The central theme of our conversation was her name. . . which one would it be?  And how would it be spelled? I was feeling really good during all of this.  It was the first time in 20 years that I asked Chad to slow down when we were walking, but I was able to walk and talk through all of the contractions.

At 2:00 I needed to be hooked up to the IV for more antibiotics.  I was about 5 cm dilated and having regular contractions.  They were increasingly strong, and I was starting to feel the baby descending.

I was also aware that there was a long way to go before baby would arrive. . . and that the kids got out of school in an hour. . . and that they REALLY wanted to meet the baby THAT DAY.  Sierra had been texting me all day wishing for updates.  I had a decision to make.  Should I hold off on the pitocin and see what developed, or bite the bullet so to speak, and rush this baby along?  I hesitated and Kami, my nurse, suggested we just get it done!  So she started a "small dose" of pitocin.

I would say that the pitocin and cytotech combined into the explosion my doctor had been talking about because I was soon experiencing a labor like no other I had experienced before.

My biggest concern with starting pitocin was that I would then be stuck in bed, hooked up to a monitor.  My nurse assured me that had changed.  They now had monitors that could leave the bed.  However, we could not get that monitor to work.  Baby girl was hard to monitor during this part of my labor.  Her heartbeat kept coming and going as her position changed.  The nurse reassured me that nothing was wrong, but it was stressing me out.  Because we had her heart checked out so thoroughly earlier in my pregnancy, I was totally paranoid about having her well monitored as labor progressed - so staying chained to the bed was how I remained until she arrived.

By 3:30 I was wondering if I could survive this labor without pain meds.  I have never had an epidural - the needle in my back idea freaks me out.  I had a drug called stadahl during Krissy's delivery, but the other three came sans pain meds. . . and fast.  I have always gone from 7 to 10 cm in about 15 minutes - and although I had been cautioning myself and everyone else all day that there was no guarantee that would happen again - I was hoping.  Trying to make a wise decision about pain management in the midst of the craziest pain of your life is surreal.  Trying to think through a fog of pain about what would be best for the baby is so hard.  I remember telling the nurse, "I don't know what I want."  Assuming baby would come quickly - I was at 6 cm and "7" seems to be my golden ticket - I decided to wait until 4:00 to make a decision.  I did not want baby to be born drugged up and sleepy, yet I was not sure I could endure hours of pain like I was experiencing.

During my pregnancy I had happened upon a video of a woman in Ethiopia giving birth.  She was alone, assisted only by her neighbor lady, in her home.  She had a dirt floor, and her many other children were zipping in and out of view as she labored.  Right before the baby was delivered a piece of old plastic was placed on the dirt floor to provide a "clean" place for baby to drop.  Baby fell from her squatting position onto the "clean" plastic.  Her neighbor ran next door for a piece of old cording to use to tie off the baby's umbilical cord.  Minutes after the baby was born the mother made a statement that may never leave me.  She said, "Having babies is easy. . . it is keeping them fed that is hard."

All day as I labored I thought of that women and so many women like her.  I was having an overly medically assisted birth in a pristine hospital.  I had all sorts of options available to me. . . including the best pain meds in the world.  And to me, birthing a baby was HARD, but feeding her would be easy.  Knowing that fact was sobering and inspiring in an odd sort of way.  It challenged me to find a way to be fully present in the pain, to face it, embrace it, and use it.  Climbing on top of the pain, breathing slowly, relaxing, and not allowing myself to panic became my total focus.

When I was 8 cm, my nurse called the doctor to come.  She was sure things would speed along. The time for pain meds was in the past, and baby would soon arrive.  That is when laboring in a hospital becomes weirder than ever.  The room is filling with people.  Lights are being turned on.  Equipment is being hauled into the room.  Quiet chatter and anticipation fills the space.  In the center of it all, I am laying on a bed trying to stay focused on relaxing, breathing, all while feeling baby move down with a force and pressure that I have never experienced before.

Poor Chad hates all of this.  Seeing me in so much pain breaks his heart.  I get it.  I would feel the same way.  I remember him rubbing my forehead throughout contractions, knowing he would do almost anything to make it all stop.  Wishing I could reassure him that it would be OK, soon it would be over and she would be here.

I remember getting a work related text. . . and responding to it. . . knowing the sender had no idea I was in hard labor. . . scrambling at sanity. . . looking for anything to distract me from all the pain ripping through my body.

I remember random conversations whispered throughout the room.  Chit chat about boats.  Questions about whether I had had stadahl or not.  My doctor wondering if it would be OK for her med student "Jean" to deliver my baby.  What would we name her? My doctor checking my cervix. . . yet again. . . telling me 15 more minutes.  Thinking I may not survive 15 more minutes.  Then taking a breath and working through another contraction.  My nurse taking charge, deciding I could push through the remaining rim on my cervix and get the baby here sooner.

I have never pushed for more than a few minutes.  Once it was "go time" they have all come quickly.

Not this time.

As if even my body were mourning the end of this stage of life, pushing was slow going.  I had to work hard.  I could feel her descend each and every inch.  Between contractions they kept telling me to breathe for baby, listening carefully to her heartbeat,  feeding my slight paranoia. I remember my nurse calmly counting... the doctor commenting on how much hair the baby had while quietly coaching the med student on delivery... thanking another med student for holding my leg so I could rest between contractions. At one point the doctor pushed the baby back just a bit between contractions.  I gasped.  She said, "I like her heart tones better there.  She will be here soon.  It's OK."

Crowning happened in the midst of several contractions, and it was nearly unbearable.  That experience was new to me.  Birthing had never gone this slowly.  I had never been so aware.  In retrospect there is a rare beauty about that awareness.  I totally experienced this little one's birth with an acute awareness that I have never before experienced.  Suddenly her head broke completely through, her shoulders quickly followed, and then everything paused as they encouraged me to grab hold of this tiny, wet, slippery gift and pull her up to my chest.

I was shocked at how hard she was to hold onto.  She was so slippery, so tiny, yet so huge.  Above all, she was so incredibly welcome.

Seeing your child for the first time is the most incredible feeling in the world.

Whether by birth or adoption, coming face to face with the child you have been praying for for such a long time is a holy and sacred moment.

Time stops forever.

I will be forever grateful for these first moments with our baby.

They were unrushed.

They were precious.

They were a gift.

I was allowed to look at her, soak her in, hold her next to my skin, and just be with her for as long as I wished.  I am so very thankful.

While I gazed at the amazing little girl laying on my chest, there was activity all around me.  Chad cut her cord.  The doctors delivered the placenta, carts were wheeled around, supplies packed up, blood pressures taken - but I was fairly oblivious.  The only thing that mattered was the first moments I was having with my baby.

Eventually, I told her nurse she could grab her.  I wanted to know how much she weighed.  Plus I was freezing.  I needed the doctor to finish her work on me so that I could be swaddled in warm blankets.

The nurse took her to a table that was almost within reach of my bed.

I was able to experience everything that was happening with our girl.

I was so thankful.

About the time the nurse grabbed our baby, my doctor came near me and said, "You are not going to be happy with me."  

"How many stitches?"  was my first question.

"None."  she responded to my relief.  "But you are clotting quite a bit, so I am going to need to massage your uterus."    That did not concern me.  They always "massage" your uterus after you give birth. . . or so I thought.  This massage was like no other.  She took her hand and pushed long and deep into my uterus, twice.  It was awful.  It did end the clotting, and has totally reduced the post-baby bleeding though.

(I wondered if this was a new labor and delivery practice, but the med student the next day assured me it was not.  She had never seen it done before, so I guess I was just lucky!)

Thankfully, I had baby to keep me (and CHAD!) distracted through all of this.

She is breathtaking, is she not?

She weighed a perfect 7 lbs.

And look at her hair!

(Yes.  I did have lots of heartburn.)

Even after all that slow pushing, she has a perfectly shaped 14 inch head.

(For the record slow for me was quick for some,  I pushed for 30 to 40 minutes.)

And she was 20.5 inches long.

To put that into Dietrich baby perspective. . .

my smallest baby was 6.14

the biggest 7.10

longest 21.5

shortest 19.75

Here she is. . .

less than 2 hours old

waiting for her kids to arrive so we can reveal her name.

Leaving Pregnancy Behind

As I have said many times, this pregnancy has been an incredibly special time for me.

It has not been my easiest pregnancy - emotionally, physically, or spiritually.  Yet during these last 39 weeks and 4 days, I have grown so very much.  Though my belly is the most obvious signal of growth, I have grown in much deeper ways during this pregnancy.

Hope has been reborn in my spirit.  Trust and peace have once again overshadowed doubt, fear, and worry.  God has used this time, and this child as she grows within me, in incredible ways.  I will be forever grateful.

The honest truth is that I am having a really hard time wanting to let go of this pregnancy.  I have so enjoyed having this tiny one growing inside of me.  I have so treasured each kick, roll, and hiccup.  Heaving myself out of bed to go to the bathroom several times each night, heartburn, backaches, etc, etc... have all been signs to me of God's hope and faithfulness rather than irritations or inconveniences.

On Friday when my OB suggested we induce soon, I was incredibly sad.  In fact, I spent most of Saturday near tears.  I was NOT ready to let go of this phase of life.  I was NOT ready to share this baby.  I felt like I needed more time.

And as He sometimes does, God granted my heart's desire.  You see, I was supposed to be induced yesterday morning; however the hospital had some emergencies come through labor and delivery, so our induction was postponed.  The nurses expected me to be devastated.  Instead, I was thrilled!

During the last 48 hours, I have had the time to pray, morn, and process.  I am so thankful for this gift of time.  So thankful.

Letting go and moving on is hard - no matter what we are letting go of.  I have LOVED each and every one of my pregnancies.  Knowing that when this baby arrives I will never again experience pregnancy is really sad to me.  It is an end of an era, so to speak.  I have needed to spend some time grieving.  I have also been able to spend some time thanking God for allowing me to experience pregnancy and motherhood.  It is a blessing that I hold sacred.

I have also begun processing the FACT that I can NOT approach each and every event in this baby's life from a place of mourning and clinging.  She will more than likely be the baby of our family. While we do hope to adopt again, we currently feel that those adoptions will be of older children.  God is sure to have some surprises in store for our family, and we are open to His leading.  More than any plan we create, we want to bend to His will, which means - everything in our home is poised for change at any time.  That disclaimer in place, I expect that this baby will forever be the youngest Dietrich.  I refuse to spend her life being sad about that.

That would be unfair to both of us!

Mourning, so deeply, the end of this pregnancy has been good for me in that it has really opened my eyes to my need to approach this little girl's life with joy, anticipation, and gladness!  I can not and will not approach every first in her life as a last in my own.  I will not mark her personal milestones with my grief in another stage that is forever gone.  She and I deserve so much more.

Sweet baby, I will never be a mom that is THRILLED about you growing up.  I will never be the mom that throws a party when you are done nursing, head off to Kindergarten, or begin driving from the perspective that your growing up frees me up.  I LOVE being a mom.  I always have, and I always will.  I will savor each day, each moment, each milestone.  Yet I promise, my daughter, to celebrate with true gladness each one of your accomplishments.  I will do my very best to encourage your growth and independence, to cheer you on, and never to hold you back.  You are a gift, tiny one.  I am so very thankful that God chose me to be your momma.  So thankful.

I am so, so grateful for the extra days God has given me to work through these feelings.  I know it will take a conscious effort many times during her life to let go rather than cling.  It always does.  However, the time to look deep into my soul and to prepare my heart for this challenge is a healing gift for which I thank God.

I suspect my next post will be the announcement of this precious one's birth, and it will be posted with deep joy.

The time is drawing near, sweet baby, for momma to share you.

I can't wait to see the shape of your nose, the pout of your lips, the color of your hair.  Will you have a dimple like Jamison?  Long toes like Daddy? Will you suck your thumb like Sierra?  Be incredibly, yet sweetly independent like Brenna?  Tease  like Joshua?  Have shockingly gorgeous hazel eyes like Krissy?  The mystery of who you are is about to unfold, and I am most excited to be a witness to it all!

(I only promise to share a tiny bit!  I have always been a baby hog!  In fact I have heard my kids tell their friends that they can come see the baby, but they should not expect to hold her.  Their mom never shares babies! I am certainly guilty as charged when it comes to that "crime!")

Floating Boats

Joshua did not have school today.

His big kids did.

His momma had doctor appointments.

His daddy had to work.

Luckily, Grandpa Scott has retired from his office job, so Joshua was able to spend the day with him.

He was so stinkin' excited!  

The big event of the day?

Building boats out of scrap wood and then floating them in the stream that flows through Grandpa's pasture in the spring!  Though I was not there to watch Grandpa and Joshua build and play, Joshua was able to bring his boats home to show me.  He was thrilled to float his boats in the "stream" that melted snow has made in our ditch.

There are few things more wonderful than spring.  I love watching the snow melt!

Thanks Grandpa for a super fun day!

(And for the record, Jamison was excited to see the boats too.  Floating spring boats is a special memory to my now tall son as well!)

In other Dietrich news, Chad is sporting some spectacles.

He is not very happy about them.  After almost 40 years of perfect vision, it is a big adjustment.

His complaints make me laugh!  I have had glasses/contacts since the fourth grade so I am hardly sympathetic!

Miss Sierra earned her learners permit today.

She is pumped!  Not only can she begin driving, she also received 94 likes for the above picture on Instagram.  Sigh.  Teen culture is an interesting thing!

I teased her that if driving with her is not enough to put me into labor - nothing is!
Ha!

Lastly, baby has remained heads down!  I am so thankful.  Also, my maternity leave has officially began.  My blood pressure continues to be on the high side, so if this little peanut has not arrived by very early next week, we will induce labor.  I would really, really love to avoid an induction.  (I know whine, whine, whine!)  I have been induced several times in the past, and they have all gone very well.  I have no horror stories.  I'd just prefer a less medical birth this time.

So - I am trusting this desire of my heart to God, knowing that He knows what is best for all of us!

(I think Chad may be relieved about an induction.  He had a dream this week that he delivered the baby on the family room floor.  Check that. . . a nightmare!  Knowing we are soon hospital bound is music to his ears.)

39 Weeks

I am feeling totally ready for baby tonight.  My church office is settled.  While I have a to-do list waiting for me on Monday (and always will), things will be just fine if I do not return.

And her crib has arrived and is put together at long last!

 Sierra and Chad got the crib put together just hours after it arrived.

Putting things together is NOT Chad's favorite.  Far from.  He would actually build something from plans he has drawn than try to figure out how to follow instructions on pre-made furniture.  We both laugh (now) remembering the first time he set up a crib.  I was so excited.  He was so irritated.  It was not a great combination!  After that, I always put the crib together.

Until today.

Now that is growth people.  (Ha!)

It looks darling.

39 years old and 39 weeks pregnant feels significant.

While I am feeling extremely expectant - with all the typical symptoms, fatigue, sleeplessness, backaches, some swelling, lots of contractions, indigestion - I also continue to feel very grateful.

This pregnancy has been a gift about which I refuse to complain.  Instead I am savoring each moment.

However, at the same time, I am finally feeling truly anxious for her to arrive.  For weeks I have not been ready - there were things to do!  Additionally, I was not emotionally ready for this sweet connection of pregnancy to end.  It has been such an incredible time, and I have not been anxious for it to end.  Yesterday I finally felt ready. . . antsy. . . weary.

And that too is good.

There is a time for everything, and the time for this tiny one to arrive is quickly approaching.  Though I am mentally prepared to work one more week, I am really hoping she arrives before Monday morning.  I am not sure I have one more week of work left in me.  However, unless we discover she is still breech tomorrow, I fully expect to work next week.  My babies just do not come early, though you officially have my permission to begin praying her here!

Baby Shower

Though I was convinced that I was way too old and have far too many children to be the recipient of a baby shower, some very special friends showered us with love and lots of darling baby things today.  I am one lucky momma.


Brenna was the photographer.  She got some fun shots - but she missed a few things, too.  In fact, she only took shots of me.  Which means the rest of the guests, the beautiful punch, creative centerpiece and decorations, and the yummy buffet will remain our little secret.

 It is still hard to believe that in 12 days this little kicker is due!

Except, of course, when you check out my profile.

For many weeks my kids have told me that I look like I swallowed a basketball.  I think it has been upgraded to a beach ball.  I had a little boy at Joshua's school this week tell me, "That is one BIG baby!"  Joshua thinks it is hilarious when he pretends to dribble my belly like a basketball.  I thought it was funny, too. . . the first time anyway.  

She is one very low baby.  I am constantly paranoid that the bottom of my belly is sticking out of my shirts.  They are plenty big around but most are not long enough to cover her up.  I do not remember this problem from other pregnancies.  It is too bad it is not summer because sundresses would be much more comfy than my current wardrobe.

Other than the naked belly worry, I feel great.  The last two weeks have been over-the-top busy at work.  That did show up in my blood pressure this last week.  It was the highest I have ever seen it.  It was not high enough to totally freak out my doctor, but it did worry me.  Seeing the proof that I was pushing my body too hard caused me to slow down a bit.   I worked shorter days the end of the week and got some extra rest.  I am feeling a bit more sane now.

Dr. I. still thinks baby is heads down.  I am hoping she is correct - the ultrasound on Friday will be the final proof.  While I do think she is correct; I am a bit afraid to get my hopes up too high.  I am certain that baby feels "settled."  Although she still moves a lot, those movements have changed.  She no longer tosses and turns and rolls; she punches, jabs, and kicks.

I am a little over 1 cm dilated and have lots of contractions throughout the day.  I know that sounds like looming labor to some, but it is just normal for me.  I have never gone into labor without a bit of medical help.  I have always been between 3 and 5 cm dilated before real labor has begun.  I will be (happily) shocked if that changes this time.  I'd love to go into labor spontaneously. . . as long as the baby is not born in the car or on the living room floor.  Chad would NOT be happy if that were to happen.  So, I am predicting baby to arrive about 5 days late (assuming she has not flipped breech again) - but I will have everything ready for my leave at work by this Wednesday just in case.

Our home is ready for her as well.

 Her dresser is full of teeny, tiny, freshly-washed clothes.

 Our bags are packed.

And her bed is ready and waiting in our room.

We will meet you soon, sweet baby.

We WILL meet you soon!

Brenna's First Solo

 Last night we attended Brenna's 5th Grade music program.

We did not have good seats for photography.

Sorry Brenna!  I did try!

 It was a special night. . . Brenna sang her very first solo.

(This photo is taken of the screen that projected close-ups of the performers.)

 She was very nervous - but she should not have been.

She did an incredible job.

I was so proud of her.

As was Sierra!

She insisted on a sister shot - selfie style, of course!

Brenna's baby sister seemed to enjoy the show as well.  She put on quite a show dancing in my belly.  Sierra was quite entertained watching my belly rick and roll along with the music.  We both laughed and laughed when the baby kicked in perfect unison with the final note of the night, a whoop of "Yahoo!"