Solids and the fourth child.

Its one of my very favorite parts of the first year.  

Solids.  Oh, they're so stinkin fun!  

In our house, a baby always begins solids on carrots.  I'm not really sure why, exactly.  Probably because we're creatures of extreme habit, so we like to carry on in a consistent fashion.

Whether it's 2010 or 2017, beginning solids means a trip to Whole Foods and a reunion with a few faithful old friends.

It should probably be noted that even my hand blender is tired and thinks we'd better not have any more kids.  This baby, which has prepared virtually every meal all my babies have ever eaten, is definitely on its last legs.  

But still managed to get the job done!

My favorite part of beginning solids is the faces.  Both from the parents and the tiny baby.

That's it.  That's the face.  Why would you do that to me?!

A few more...

Oh yes.  Carrots is a success!

And, because we can't resist a good trip down memory lane...

Her bib sums it up:  Happy.

18 Weeks

We've been having some very unusual weather for Colorado at the beginning of August.  Cool.  Almost cold.

But, wherever there is Luke, there is always sunshine!

Our little guy is one heck of a wiggler, as you can probably tell from the background of his photo.  He's practicing sitting up on his own, and has amazing control of his body.  He loves toys, and handles them beautifully from whatever surface they are on right into his mouth.  He is also coming to enjoy tummy time for brief periods of time.

This week, I introduced a few of our "big kid" toys like the bouncer and high chair.  It's nice to give him a few places to go besides my arms.  Unlike big sis Livvy, he's pretty happy to check them out.  That's a nice change for me, too, what with him him being so much heavier than Liv!

Postcards from Rushmore

Official announcement: We're moving to Nemo, South Dakota!

Well, okay, so maybe not.  But we did have an absolutely fantastic time on our family trip visiting South Dakota and all it has to offer.  

Yes, I am a nerd.  A history nerd, even, but Mt. Rushmore has been on my bucket list for years.  I had absolutely no idea that it is a quick 6 hour drive from the state in which I've spent my entire life.  How did I miss that all this time? 

Before our trip, we read a book and watched a documentary about the history of the monument, created by John Gutzon Borglum and his son Lincoln from 1927-41.  What an absolutely fascinating endeavor!  To think that about 400 men scaled this mountain and blasted and chiseled it into what we see today... amazing! 

The Gutzon Borglum studio, which houses a one-twelfth scale completed rendering of the monument, was amazing to see!

The monument itself was created using measurements taken from this sculpture with a degree stick and a weighted string, as pictured above (hanging off of Lincoln's head).  AMAZING what human ingenuity and determination can do!!!

Just to give you an idea of the scale, we present: Leah!  And this is the small version. 

The entire monument was never finished according to Gutzon Borglum's specifications for three main reasons: 1) they ran out of money, 2) WWII began, and 3) John Borglum died before the project was finished.  They "settled" for just the heads.

It was pretty incredible to see in person.

And something the entire family enjoyed. 

Or, at least, as much as a person can when they're two and have missed nap time.

(Don't worry, they made up later.)  

We all took time to thoroughly appreciate the scope of history that stood before us with solemn, serious reflection.

Honest.

Rushmore was probably the highlight of our trip to South Dakota, but it was also only the beginning.  There is so much to do and see; we stayed three nights, but it was nowhere near enough.  This is definitely a trip we'll make again.

Check one off the bucket list!

(I like to do that while wearing small babies.)

9 weeks and stats

My suspicious little guy would like to know why he's not being fed.

Because, well, you don't get thighs like that from skipping meals!

At his two month appointment, Luke weighed in at 13.1 lbs, in the 65th percentile.  My question? How big are the two month olds in the hundredth percentile?!

(But I should probably keep my mouth shut, since Logan was over 14lbs at two months.  Glass houses and what-not...)

Two months flies by.  Love him.

The one with all the details

The hospital is quiet in the dark of the morning.  When you're coming in for a scheduled c-section you wake up early.  There is an incredible sense of anticipation and excitement, so you smile a lot, and enjoy.

You know... while you still can.  Because, let's face it --

...you're tired.  It's early.  There's no such thing as a flattering photo, because you're super pregnant and hospital lighting isn't helpful. And, oh yeah...

...you're about to be cut open while still awake. So there's that.

I felt pretty calm all morning.  My sense of confidence that I was making the right decision outweighed the nerves over having the actual surgery.  The hard part was that this time, I knew exactly what I was walking into.  I remembered how I felt the day Leah was delivered, and how long recovery really does take.  So there was definitely a little more of an underlying edge, but also greater steel in my resolve.  I felt the anxiety, but I also had to let it go.  This is how we meet our baby, and whatever happens to me, he'll be safe.

Although, just to put my resolve to the test, right as I got up to walk into surgery, my water broke.

Ha!  Because, of course it did!

And in a really, comically big way.  Exactly like in the movies.  You could almost hear a pop! and there it was, all over the floor.  Go figure, right?

But I wasn't in any kind of serious labor, although I had a few contractions here and there, and the fact that my water had broken changed nothing in the way of how high up and how big a baby we were expecting.

Casey didn't get to go in while they were putting in the spinal block, which was news we hadn't expected.  Seven years ago in Boulder, he was able to be with me during that part, which is scary and sterile, particularly when you're alone.

They got me situated on the table, brought Casey in, and it was off to the races.

I am absolutely amazed at how quickly they can get those babies out.

His little cry undid me.  I couldn't see him, but I could hear that beautiful sound.  It is the very best sound in the whole world.  It seemed to take forever while they checked him out and cleaned him off, but I'm sure it was really just moments.  He pinked up so quickly, a nurse made a comment that it was concerning.  I'm not sure whether she was serious.

Then, they did something which they didn't do seven years ago - they brought him to me.  8 pounds 10 oz of naked baby boy, and let me have skin to skin time while I was open on the other side of the curtain.

It was heaven.  I remember thinking with Leah, this is heaven, right here in the middle of hell.  I so feared that surgery all those years ago - it was absolutely my worst case scenario short of endangering Leah's life.  As they laid him on my chest, that same thought came back to me.

The love of a mother is so powerful.  So, so very fierce and strong.  I am always overwhelmed.  When you hear the cry, when you look into their eyes and feel the beautiful weight of their little bodies on the outside for the first time, even the fact that your own body is literally open - things that should be on the inside aren't - cannot hold a candle to the overpowering joy they bring with them.

As they finished stitching me back together, they bundled up my special little bundle, and Casey got a chance to hold him.

And then it was over.  They wheeled us back to recovery, and that was that.

The surgery went well.  The only hiccup was that I had a really good spinal block.  Which, on the surface, doesn't sound like a problem, but I was numb all the way through my chest and arms.  That made it difficult to hold and touch my little guy, and it also created a lot of pressure on my lungs.

I brought this up to the doctors, only because, well, it seemed like it might be important.  Pressure on my chest while still open on the table?  I just wanted to check and make sure everything was okay.  I was reassured that it was normal.  But it didn't resolve itself, and so I told them again that I still had pressure.  I'm not sure exactly how or why, but they ended up giving me a good dose of morphine, interpreting my concern as pain.

Whew.  Morphine.

I would make a lousy drug addict, because the morphine was really a shot to the gut.  I was nauseous, out of sorts, and the rest of the day looked a lot like this:

I was pretty foggy until sometime after midnight.  I was even worried about having the kids visit, because I didn't want to scare them.  My speech wasn't particularly clear, and the morphine made me sooooo groggy.  It was bad.

But even so...

he is worth every second. 

Spring has sprung, and the package is huge.

You know those adorable quotations you find for the nursery when you're having your first child?  Things like, first we had each other.  Then we had you.  Now we have everything.

Well, when you're cooking human #4, which actually ends up #5 because of adoption, those adorable little sayings aren't quite as endearing.  Or little: 

First we had each other.  Then we had Leah.  Then we had Logan.  Then we had Livvy.  Then we had Jake.  Then we had you.  Now we have everything.  And we're really, really tired.  

Despite the fact that it is March - hardly after St. Patrick's Day, no less - the view from my window is lovely.  The grass is turning green in our yard, and delicate little blossoms are emerging on all the branches.  As I type this, it's nearly 80 degrees.  The winter world is bursting into new life. 

At 36 weeks, bursting is one of my favorite words. 

It's just so descriptive.  And appropriate!

My husband came home earlier this week.  Can I just tell you?  The level of relief was pretty incredible.  Literally palpable.  I could feel the tension drain away - whatever happens now, it's okay.

We celebrated his homecoming with a day of baby-oriented fun.  First a trip to buy a handful of pairs of new cloth diapers, then a tour of our new hospital, lunch, and last but not least, my 35 week doctors appointment.  The best part?  My mom had the kids, so we got to do all of those things just the two of us.  It was glorious.  

The purpose of the appointment was to determine if I was in better shape physically, and if I could officially resume some-what normal activities.  And, because I was measuring so far ahead at my last appointment, they also wanted to do an ultrasound to check his size. 

It was a great appointment.  I am looking much better physically, and was cleared from bed rest.  I'm dilated, which at 35.5 weeks is not as concerning as it was at 33.  And the best part? 

We got to see an amazing, clear picture of our sweet little man.  Isn't he incredible?!  Look at that precious little face!

But.  (Isn't that just the way?  Always that unfortunate but...)  

But, at 35 weeks, he is measuring big.  

His head?  It's literally off the charts, measuring larger than 99th percentile at 41 weeks instead of 35.  If that wasn't enough, they got clear measurements and estimate that he is 7.8lbs.  That's as big is a Logan on birthday!  As I'm writing this today, baby boy is probably flirting with the 8lb mark.  

And if I manage to make it to my due date, they estimate he'll be somewhere between 9 and a half and ten pounds.  

Whew.  So, that was interesting news to digest!  

Based on his gestational size (not gestational age - the doctor won't change my official due date), the sonographer estimates my due date at 3-26. 

I have to admit that, despite the potential challenges, I'm actually incredibly relieved.  I have been saying for literally months that nothing I'm feeling seems normal; I feel like I'm way ahead of where I should be.  The entire medical profession has reassured me that this is normal for a fourth pregnancy (which is just harder - they insist!).  

Casey was supposed to have a trip the last week of March, a trip I adamantly suggested he find a replacement on, because I've been convinced for several weeks that the baby is coming either the last week of March or very early April.  That lines up perfectly with where he is measuring.  Score one for mother's intuition!  

So even though we have been worried for the last three weeks that he might make an early appearance, the new concern is that he may actually be too big to make it out that way at all.  The doctor already talked to me about scheduling a c-section, something she would most likely like to do at 39 weeks.  Particularly since I'm only "battle tested" to the size he was earlier this week.

The reality is that we'll get where we get.  I have peace that I'll know the next steps when they are upon us.  I know for a fact that I can't control what comes next; I'm still doing all my daily exercises to try and give him his best shot... but I've been through this exact emotion four times now.  All I can do is trust.  One way or another, in less than a month I'll get to snuggle that potentially giant baby boy, and plant kisses on his adorable chubby cheeks.  None of this uncertainty will matter once that happens.  And I cannot wait.   

That's the blessing here.  The one I'm holding out for, in whatever form it comes. Because on that day?  We will truly have everything.  

Easter Sunday

Easter is certainly our favorite spring holiday.  Despite the fact that the weather showed no signs of the spring season that was on its way, we had a wonderful resurrection Sunday. 

I so enjoy filling their little Easter baskets!  

Leah's

We decided long ago that Easter baskets were not to be filled with junk.  

Livvy's

 Instead, we try to pack in things that will be useful for the upcoming summer season.  

Logan's

Each child always receives a pair of sandals.

And my kiddos are absolutely wild about jammies, so they each get a summer pair of those as well.

They also got new shades (don't worry, Liv got a real pair, too!)

We rounded it out with the Milne Pooh collection of stories and poems, which we hope to read this summer.

Last year, I began the tradition of tucking Bible verses in along with their treasures.

I love having a reader in the house!

But my favorite part of Easter morning is watching the whole gang as they hang around in their jammies and mussy bed-heads. 

Those unguarded moments when they're just all together. 

I suppose these moments aren't that different from our other mornings.  Homeschooling gives us the wonderful advantage that most of our mornings aren't rushed or hurried.  Still, these days of tiny rushing feet and silly giggles are just my favorite. 

And, because it was still snowing and cold, I didn't subject my family to the traditional Easter church photo.  But I did try to re-create it a week later, once the snow had melted.

Of course, by then, Casey was on the road again.

And the three had a serious case of the sillies.  But hey, those are the things our lives are made of.