One month left. It’s hard to believe we’ve lived in Georgia for 2 years, and now that time is coming to an end. It’s hard to believe that we’ve been entrusted with the most precious of gifts - - the means and ability to move overseas to minister to another people group and have the opportunity to share an even more precious gift - - the gift of eternal life in Christ Jesus.
Some people think of missionaries as antiquated lone individuals, walking about in long monk robes with a basket of bibles to liberally distribute to the masses along with a loaf of French crusted bread. That’s not exactly the way we do missions. We do want to meet people where they are, help meet their felt needs, establish meaningful friendships, and in effect, earn the right to share what we believe. We are in the business of relationships. Christ Jesus, fully man and fully God, was our perfect human example, and he majored in relationships.
I care about people and I care about where their souls will spend eternity. Some might question the need to leave this country when there are so many hurting, needy people right here. Well, yes, I would agree. There are. And there are already many individuals reaching out to meet those needs. God’s plan for our family is for us to take the message to those who, though their culture is steeped in tradition and religious practices, might not have heard the simple message of the gospel. Modern America has had the privilege of all out access to evangelical Christianity and is therefore, now without excuse for the loose moral standards she brazenly espouses. Christians don’t need to sit in a defensive position, but rather we need to attack Satan’s stronghold of depravity for we have the ultimate victor on our side.
I could go on and on, but I won’t.
In one month we head back to Texas to share sweet time with our families before heading out for 6 months of training, even before we even reach our final destination.
As such, there are several prayer requests I would specifically ask of you to remember and intercede on our behalf:
1.) Our marriage: Satan would love to see our marriage disintegrate so we lose our witness.
2.) Our children: they will easily adjust, but there are many transitions coming for them before we finally arrive in Spain.
3.) Our health: that God would protect our mental, physical, and emotional well-being so we will be effective and able to perform our daily tasks.
4.) Our ability to learn the language quickly: Jeff already has a working knowledge of Spanish, but I only know my food, in Tex-Mex.
5.) Our spiritual lives: that Jeff and I will be able to maintain the healthy disciplines we’ve already been practicing – our prayer lives, our Scripture study and memorization – that we’ll be consumed and motivated by our love for Christ, but that our hearts will stay pure before God, and that the task and busyness will not precede the people for whom we leave to serve.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
The "Peenano"
My father is not a distinguished piano player. He’s a good piano player, but we tease him that all of his songs sound the same. Hymns and praise songs alike sound as if they came out of the 60’s rock-n-roll era. If a song requires my father to sit still and play, he just can’t. He’s got to be be-boppin’ and foot stampin’ to enjoy playing.
So, it should come as no surprise, then, that our Gideon has taken quite a fancy to his child size “peenano.” We can hear him banging away with glee, singing his ABC’s, the B-I-B-L-E, Jesus Loves the Little Children, and Wheels on the Bus. He and Scarlett take turns playing. She daintily pecks away key by key, while he merrily pounds his little hands to the bone.
I’ve been sick for the past few days. I think I’ve had the flu, now turned into a terrible head cold (and no, it’s not the swine flu or H1N1 as they’re now referring to it as). I have not been actively involved with the children as I normally am…take today for example.
I was sitting on a pallet of blankets in the playroom holding Lexi, while Gideon and Scarlett entertained themselves. I tried reading them a few books, but my voice is going somewhat hoarse, my throat and ears hurt when I swallow, my nose is clogged up all the way to my brain, and therefore, reading books didn’t last too long. I shooed them over to more enticing toys.
As I was sitting there with Lexi wishing I were in bed, not really paying attention to the children, I come to my senses and hear Gideon banging away on the piano. He finishes his song, expects me to clap, and I do. We continue in that vein for a few minutes. Apparently, his music is not elegant enough for Lexi, for she begins to squall as if in pain. Meanwhile, Scarlett is happily dancing about as if there were some type of real rhythm to his keystroke mechanics.
I turn my attention back to Gideon. He’s really going at it. His face is beat red, and there’s a vein popping out of his neck. I’m half afraid he’s going to burst a blood vessel with all that straining, but I let him have his fun. As I’m thinking these thoughts, he stops mid “song”, lifts up his leg, and grabs his rear end.
“Uh oh,” he says, looking at me. “My poo poo.”
Apparently, all that straining did burst something. But, it wasn’t a blood vessel.
So, it should come as no surprise, then, that our Gideon has taken quite a fancy to his child size “peenano.” We can hear him banging away with glee, singing his ABC’s, the B-I-B-L-E, Jesus Loves the Little Children, and Wheels on the Bus. He and Scarlett take turns playing. She daintily pecks away key by key, while he merrily pounds his little hands to the bone.
I’ve been sick for the past few days. I think I’ve had the flu, now turned into a terrible head cold (and no, it’s not the swine flu or H1N1 as they’re now referring to it as). I have not been actively involved with the children as I normally am…take today for example.
I was sitting on a pallet of blankets in the playroom holding Lexi, while Gideon and Scarlett entertained themselves. I tried reading them a few books, but my voice is going somewhat hoarse, my throat and ears hurt when I swallow, my nose is clogged up all the way to my brain, and therefore, reading books didn’t last too long. I shooed them over to more enticing toys.
As I was sitting there with Lexi wishing I were in bed, not really paying attention to the children, I come to my senses and hear Gideon banging away on the piano. He finishes his song, expects me to clap, and I do. We continue in that vein for a few minutes. Apparently, his music is not elegant enough for Lexi, for she begins to squall as if in pain. Meanwhile, Scarlett is happily dancing about as if there were some type of real rhythm to his keystroke mechanics.
I turn my attention back to Gideon. He’s really going at it. His face is beat red, and there’s a vein popping out of his neck. I’m half afraid he’s going to burst a blood vessel with all that straining, but I let him have his fun. As I’m thinking these thoughts, he stops mid “song”, lifts up his leg, and grabs his rear end.
“Uh oh,” he says, looking at me. “My poo poo.”
Apparently, all that straining did burst something. But, it wasn’t a blood vessel.
Monday, May 11, 2009
What's Going On
It seems my life of blogging has had to take a hiatus for an undisclosed amount of time. The children and their needs are keeping me so busy, I rarely have time to write. But, this blog shall not die because when we get to Spain, I know there will be stories upon stories I want to share. So bear with me until I can get Lexi a little older.
This montage is from April and May. Jeff's sister and her "special fella" came to visit. And the last series of pictures is from yesterday. Our church had a special baby dedication during the service, and naturally, we were a part of this. Besides Lexi deciding to make a dirty diaper as soon as we got into the sanctuary, Gideon trying to get away and climb the stairs, while Scarlett following his lead, it was a sweet time. Though I must admit I have no idea what the pastor prayed for because I was too busy gentling yanking Gideon from down the stairs where he was creeping up, soon to be right next to the podium and the pastor!
Enjoy the footage!
Gideon on the piano with a little help from his sister:
This montage is from April and May. Jeff's sister and her "special fella" came to visit. And the last series of pictures is from yesterday. Our church had a special baby dedication during the service, and naturally, we were a part of this. Besides Lexi deciding to make a dirty diaper as soon as we got into the sanctuary, Gideon trying to get away and climb the stairs, while Scarlett following his lead, it was a sweet time. Though I must admit I have no idea what the pastor prayed for because I was too busy gentling yanking Gideon from down the stairs where he was creeping up, soon to be right next to the podium and the pastor!
Enjoy the footage!
Gideon on the piano with a little help from his sister:
Friday, May 01, 2009
For the Birthday Boy
( I know, I would pick a picture where he looks like he's so worn out he can hardly keep his eyes open.But, he's my Superman, exhausted and all!)
Almost exactly 4 years ago, I met the man who was to become my husband. We worked a Disciple Now together at church, and though I wasn’t too impressed with his flirting tactics (threatening to cream me with peanut butter and then smear it all over my car), somehow, and for some reason beyond my understanding, I allowed him to use these very middle-school “strategeries” to win me. I like to tell him these days that I must have felt sorry for him and wanted to help him win me! He, on the other hand, likes to tell me that his tactics, however juvenile, worked. He’s got a point there.
The reason I remember the date of 4 years ago is that Jeff asked me out to a Texas Rangers game after his birthday (which happens to be today) on Mother’s Day. I turned him down for two reasons 1.) He asked me out in front of all of my co-workers and dreadfully embarrassed me and 2.) It was Mother’s Day and I had plans to cook my mother lunch.
A normal man who has been rejected won’t try again. We have already established in my many previous posts that I did not marry a normal man. He called to apologize for embarrassing me, and because of that move, he rose many levels in my estimation and earned himself a date (and subsequently, a lifetime with me!).
Anyway, this post is not about me.
This post is about my husband, for today he turns 30.
I want to honor him with my words because, as with many of you who have the gift of encouragement and can relate, I’m not always purposeful in using my gift to affirm my husband.
3 years and some loose change isn’t a long time to be married. It’s a drop in the bucket of life, but 3 years is long enough to show tremendous growth and change.
I married a boy who still had many things to figure out (as did I), but 3 years later, I can say that he’s become a man, and not just any normal run-of-the-mill man. He’s an exceptional, godly, endearing, motivated, generous, hard-working, driven, Spirit-filled man.
He gets up at 3:45 a.m. just about every morning to suffuse himself in God’s word. That discipline, more than anything, has matured his relationship with the Lord. I can’t say I have that same kind of practiced discipline, but I can say that it has sweetened our marriage, allows us to have a home where peace reigns, and has allowed me to truly see him as the one who has been placed in authority over our home and to trust the decisions he makes because I know they come from a place of Scriptural consultation first.
Jeff is hard-working. We’ve been in Georgia for almost two years now, and he has worked 6 days a week for almost the entire time. He’s just now, in the last month or so, scaled back to 5 days a week. We love having him home on this extra day. He’s worked so hard so that I could stay home with our children and give them the love and nurture they need to succeed in life, and ultimately, come to know Christ at an early age.
Jeff is loyal. He is loyal to his Lord, loyal to me as his wife, loyal to his family, and loyal to his friends. I have never worried that he was secretly checking out other women. He’s kept his heart pure and his eyes where they need to be (on me, even when I’ve been as large as a walrus). He doesn’t have a secret stash of pornography and I know, without a doubt, he doesn’t “accidentally” stumble onto any websites.
Jeff is a visionary. This is one of his greatest strengths. He’s an idea-generator. It used to make me nervous because I assumed if he was coming up with ideas (especially when they concerned our future) he was going to act on them without thinking them through. He doesn’t. Thankfully. I’m different. I’m a bit more cautious and like to quietly think through all the options and then talk about the best one. Jeff just verbally churns ideas out and then sifts through them. He’s a man of possibilities. He’s a man of faith.
I could go on and on, and perhaps I should. I just really want him to know, publicly, how proud I am of him, how thankful I am, and just how much I love him.
We’re in the final stages of this part of our lives. Transition is coming and coming soon, but with God’s leading and Jeff’s obedient guidance, all of our concerns will be met.
Jeff, honey, there’s not another man I’d rather be teamed with in this marriage or in this life. You are simply exactly who God planned for me, and I’m excited for the days to come with you.
Happy 30th birthday, man of my heart.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
When Will This End?
Okay, so whomever you are who told me that going from 2 to 3 children was easier than from 1 to 2, I’d like to tell you (without inflicting too much bodily harm because I’m restraining myself), that it’s simply proven false for me. This is the worst time of our lives, and I’m not really seeing much hope for the future. (Okay, perhaps that's a bit of an exaggerated stretch, but read on and you'll see what I mean).
I thought I’d seen my wits end before; I thought life couldn’t get any more hectic or chaotic, but no, my wits end is here waving its cape like a Spanish torero, locking gazes with me, and taunting me as if I were the bull about to be pricked to death by tiny dagger bites. My wits end is sporting mercilessly with me, and it’s dangling by a threadbare hair!
And Lexi isn’t the problem.
She’s a wonderful baby; slept 8 hours last night and averages between 6-8 per night. She’s such a joy, literally. She has her moments of crying until she’s held, but she’s a baby - - a forgivable offense :)
Our evening terror comes in the form of a compact little man, a two-year-old miniature Jeff, who is much too smart for his own good.
Two weeks ago, he figured out how to unlatch his gate, and I would awake from my sleep with a little face peeking at me. “Hi, mommy” he would say.
Oh, no. We tried switching gates, but he figured the other one out. We tried doubling the gates, but he was on to that. Finally, I took packing tape and covered the latch. He no longer can escape. And, if we didn’t live in an all hardwood floors house, with steep uncarpeted stairs, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. But, we do, so it is.
But, his escape artistry is not the biggest issue. The real problem lies in the fact that he refuses to sleep. He either refuses to go to sleep, or if we manage to get him to sleep, he refuses to stay asleep. And it’s wearing us out because it lasts for HOURS.
We’ve tried the soft approach, the hard approach, the spanking approach, the ignore-him approach, the scream-it-out approach, the sit-in-front-of-his-door-until-he-falls-asleep approach, and various combinations of the afore-mentioned….and let me tell you, NOTHING IS WORKING. It just keeps getting worse. Two nights ago, he screamed and cried from 7:45 until somewhere around midnight. I went to check on him at 2:00 a.m. and up popped his little head. He was still awake. AT 2.A.M.???!!!!????
And now, it’s turning into nap-time, too. He will not go to sleep at nap-time. You’d think he’d be worn out, but no, he’s up in the morning by 6:30 crying for “daddy”, and he’s raring to go the rest of the day, as if he’s slept for 12 or more hours, and though there are dark circles around his eyes, you can’t tell by his behavior that he’s tired. So, come nap-time, he’s a-bouncing, and it’s not like he’s eating sugar or imbibing caffeine.
I’ve asked around. It seems this is normal behavior for a 2-year-old upon bringing home a new baby. Is it “acting out” though? I don’t know. He loves the baby; smothers her with his love, in fact, during the day. Some say it lasts for a few weeks, others, a few months, and even others, a few years.
All I know is that I’m worn out, Jeff is worn out, and Gideon SHOULD be worn out. None of us have had a decent night’s sleep in three weeks (and I’m not even asking for a “good” night’s sleep) and I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can do. Actually, Scarlett, who shares a room with Gideon, sleeps like a log, and wakes up as refreshed as he thinks he is. Wish I had her ability to tune him out or simply some mental earplugs. As a mom, though, if I know my child is awake, and especially if I can hear him/her, I can’t go to sleep until he/she is.
The other thing that I’m becoming painfully aware of is that I have a strong-willed child and life with him doesn’t look like it’s going to get easier. Anyone own the Dr. Dobson book and want to pass it along? I’m going to need to read it.
I want to be a loving, sweet, and sensitive mother, but I’m having such a hard time with this. The Lord has given me strength and patience during the day, but in those wee hours when my eyes are heavy and I can barely keep them open, I feel the frustration level rise. That’s when I usually pass on the Gideon-duties to Jeff, but still, my desire isn’t to be a frustrated mom.
If any of you have advice on how you handled a similar situation, please feel free to pass it along. We’ve tried it all, and it looks like we’ll be doing this for awhile. I wish the Bible had a book, or at least a google search on, “specifics for handling toddlers: what do to when they won’t [fill in the blank]…”
I thought I’d seen my wits end before; I thought life couldn’t get any more hectic or chaotic, but no, my wits end is here waving its cape like a Spanish torero, locking gazes with me, and taunting me as if I were the bull about to be pricked to death by tiny dagger bites. My wits end is sporting mercilessly with me, and it’s dangling by a threadbare hair!
And Lexi isn’t the problem.
She’s a wonderful baby; slept 8 hours last night and averages between 6-8 per night. She’s such a joy, literally. She has her moments of crying until she’s held, but she’s a baby - - a forgivable offense :)
Our evening terror comes in the form of a compact little man, a two-year-old miniature Jeff, who is much too smart for his own good.
Two weeks ago, he figured out how to unlatch his gate, and I would awake from my sleep with a little face peeking at me. “Hi, mommy” he would say.
Oh, no. We tried switching gates, but he figured the other one out. We tried doubling the gates, but he was on to that. Finally, I took packing tape and covered the latch. He no longer can escape. And, if we didn’t live in an all hardwood floors house, with steep uncarpeted stairs, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. But, we do, so it is.
But, his escape artistry is not the biggest issue. The real problem lies in the fact that he refuses to sleep. He either refuses to go to sleep, or if we manage to get him to sleep, he refuses to stay asleep. And it’s wearing us out because it lasts for HOURS.
We’ve tried the soft approach, the hard approach, the spanking approach, the ignore-him approach, the scream-it-out approach, the sit-in-front-of-his-door-until-he-falls-asleep approach, and various combinations of the afore-mentioned….and let me tell you, NOTHING IS WORKING. It just keeps getting worse. Two nights ago, he screamed and cried from 7:45 until somewhere around midnight. I went to check on him at 2:00 a.m. and up popped his little head. He was still awake. AT 2.A.M.???!!!!????
And now, it’s turning into nap-time, too. He will not go to sleep at nap-time. You’d think he’d be worn out, but no, he’s up in the morning by 6:30 crying for “daddy”, and he’s raring to go the rest of the day, as if he’s slept for 12 or more hours, and though there are dark circles around his eyes, you can’t tell by his behavior that he’s tired. So, come nap-time, he’s a-bouncing, and it’s not like he’s eating sugar or imbibing caffeine.
I’ve asked around. It seems this is normal behavior for a 2-year-old upon bringing home a new baby. Is it “acting out” though? I don’t know. He loves the baby; smothers her with his love, in fact, during the day. Some say it lasts for a few weeks, others, a few months, and even others, a few years.
All I know is that I’m worn out, Jeff is worn out, and Gideon SHOULD be worn out. None of us have had a decent night’s sleep in three weeks (and I’m not even asking for a “good” night’s sleep) and I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can do. Actually, Scarlett, who shares a room with Gideon, sleeps like a log, and wakes up as refreshed as he thinks he is. Wish I had her ability to tune him out or simply some mental earplugs. As a mom, though, if I know my child is awake, and especially if I can hear him/her, I can’t go to sleep until he/she is.
The other thing that I’m becoming painfully aware of is that I have a strong-willed child and life with him doesn’t look like it’s going to get easier. Anyone own the Dr. Dobson book and want to pass it along? I’m going to need to read it.
I want to be a loving, sweet, and sensitive mother, but I’m having such a hard time with this. The Lord has given me strength and patience during the day, but in those wee hours when my eyes are heavy and I can barely keep them open, I feel the frustration level rise. That’s when I usually pass on the Gideon-duties to Jeff, but still, my desire isn’t to be a frustrated mom.
If any of you have advice on how you handled a similar situation, please feel free to pass it along. We’ve tried it all, and it looks like we’ll be doing this for awhile. I wish the Bible had a book, or at least a google search on, “specifics for handling toddlers: what do to when they won’t [fill in the blank]…”
Friday, April 03, 2009
Catching Up
I think the hardest part, and mind you, this is only two weeks into mother-of-three, is disciplining/fixing/helping etc. while nursing. For example, just this morning, I was feeding Lexi when Gideon walked up to me with fingers outstretched. I saw chocolate goo gooped onto 4 of his 5 fingers. For a second I was confused, and then I realized that goo was poo! Thankfully, I had just changed Lexi and the box of wipes was still on the sofa beside me. Gross and more gross, and yes, I used this word over and over so Gideon would get the hint that he ought not perform his own finger check again.
Anyway, this last month has been a whirlwind of activity, as you well know, and my blogging time has been limited. Well, to be honest, the few hours I could work on it in the afternoon, I’m napping, and that’s a must to get through the rest of the day until bedtime.
I’ve put together a little montage of last month. You’ll remember how desperate I was to get the baby out of my tummy. We took Gideon and Scarlett to a jump house (you know, one of those inflatable slide places). I didn’t realize pregnant women weren’t supposed to jump, but as you’ll see, Jeff got some footage to show me in contempt of the bounce house law, but didn’t bother telling me until AFTER I had attempted to bounce Lexi out.
P.S. The birth story is below for any who are interested.
Birth Story:
I’ll make this fast. My inducement date was Thursday, the 19th at 10 a.m. (since my parents were only in town until the next day), AND we had set up a pre-op appointment for the children on that same day at the same time. Well, Jeff and our sweet friend, Lisa, took the children to their appointment (which was thankfully right across the street from the hospital), while my parents took me to the hospital.
Jeff, in frantic mode, convinced the nurses (who obviously pitied this poor pappy) to let him in ahead of the waiting room full of people because according to him, if I was induced at 10, there was a possibility I could have the baby within the hour. I told him if that were the case, I’d be in the Guiness Book of World Records. Well, you know what men can be when they get an idea in their heads…there’s no stopping them.
It was barely 11, and I’d yet to receive the pitocin. I’d just finished all the paperwork, dad had gotten bored and left to go study, and mom and I were just chatting and relaxing. She hears pounding coming down the hall, as if someone were in a big hurry. Yes. It was Jeff running through the hallways, almost knocking people over, to get to me. He was breathing hard and heavy, so sure he’d miss the action.
Anyway, we laughed at him, and for the next 4 hours, the action was slow and almost un-noteworthy. By 3:00, I’d barely progressed to a “3”, and mom left to go meet dad so they could take care of some business (from the hail damage at the house). I asked the nurse if the pitocin was working because I wasn’t feeling any pain (just a few contractions intermittently), and so she said, “oh, I can bring on the pain.” Big mistake, Audrea. She cranked that i.v. up as high as she could, and within about 15 minutes, I was definitely feeling the contractions. Around 4, I asked if I could get that epidural anytime soon, and though I’d only progressed a little further (3-4), they said okay. By the time the anesthesiologist got in the room and set up his cart o’ fun, I was IN PAIN, and apparently, I’d jumped to a 6 or 7 within that next hour.
He told me my back was an anesthesiologist’s dream. Wow. Now, feeling big, chunky,n breathless, and pregnant, that was solace to my ears! Once that nectar kicked in, I was back to my happy self.
Now, this time, I told him ahead of time that I had had “hot spots” with the last two labors (a big spot where the epidural didn’t work), so he expertly inserted the needle more shallowly than other anesth.’s and it worked. This time, I wasn’t completely numb. I could still feel activity (sort of).
The doctor came in to check me, and said she’d break my water to get things moving. You know I was all about getting things moving. I called my mom and only got voicemail. Told my mom things were about to get interesting. Once the baby got moving, she wasn’t wasting any time.
And they did. Between 6 and 6:15, I felt pressure and Jeff called the nurse back in. She had me push once to see if she could get the baby moving, and then stopped me. The baby was all ready. They got the doctor, set everything up, and by 6:15 got me ready.
I either forgot how to push or could only do it while completely numb. Having a little bit of feeling totally threw me off. Jeff said my face was all red, my fists were clamped, and I looked like our children do when they’re straining to do “strong.” So, after I had urinated towards the doctor (yes, I know, gross, but not as gross as it could have been), I guess I figured out which muscles to use because 15 minutes later (9 pushes and 3 contractions), Lexi was out at 6:34 p.m.
The funny part was that Jeff was on one side of me rooting “come on little fella” and the delivery nurse was on the other side chanting “come on little girl.” The doctor pulled out the baby and turned her “parts” toward the nurse. The nurse said “Ha.” And Jeff said, “what is it?” “It’s a girl.”
A girl?? We totally weren’t prepared for that. We’ve thought this baby was a boy from the beginning. We were asked what her name was. “We don’t know. We thought it was a boy.”
Anyway, we figured it all out after an hour or so of deliberation and Alexandria (Lexi) Joy was named. She's named for my brother, Alex, and Jeff's mom and sister's middle name.
She’s such a sweet baby, a good sleeper, only whimpers when she’s hungry, dirty, or needs to burp. Who can complain about that?
Anyway, this last month has been a whirlwind of activity, as you well know, and my blogging time has been limited. Well, to be honest, the few hours I could work on it in the afternoon, I’m napping, and that’s a must to get through the rest of the day until bedtime.
I’ve put together a little montage of last month. You’ll remember how desperate I was to get the baby out of my tummy. We took Gideon and Scarlett to a jump house (you know, one of those inflatable slide places). I didn’t realize pregnant women weren’t supposed to jump, but as you’ll see, Jeff got some footage to show me in contempt of the bounce house law, but didn’t bother telling me until AFTER I had attempted to bounce Lexi out.
P.S. The birth story is below for any who are interested.
Birth Story:
I’ll make this fast. My inducement date was Thursday, the 19th at 10 a.m. (since my parents were only in town until the next day), AND we had set up a pre-op appointment for the children on that same day at the same time. Well, Jeff and our sweet friend, Lisa, took the children to their appointment (which was thankfully right across the street from the hospital), while my parents took me to the hospital.
Jeff, in frantic mode, convinced the nurses (who obviously pitied this poor pappy) to let him in ahead of the waiting room full of people because according to him, if I was induced at 10, there was a possibility I could have the baby within the hour. I told him if that were the case, I’d be in the Guiness Book of World Records. Well, you know what men can be when they get an idea in their heads…there’s no stopping them.
It was barely 11, and I’d yet to receive the pitocin. I’d just finished all the paperwork, dad had gotten bored and left to go study, and mom and I were just chatting and relaxing. She hears pounding coming down the hall, as if someone were in a big hurry. Yes. It was Jeff running through the hallways, almost knocking people over, to get to me. He was breathing hard and heavy, so sure he’d miss the action.
Anyway, we laughed at him, and for the next 4 hours, the action was slow and almost un-noteworthy. By 3:00, I’d barely progressed to a “3”, and mom left to go meet dad so they could take care of some business (from the hail damage at the house). I asked the nurse if the pitocin was working because I wasn’t feeling any pain (just a few contractions intermittently), and so she said, “oh, I can bring on the pain.” Big mistake, Audrea. She cranked that i.v. up as high as she could, and within about 15 minutes, I was definitely feeling the contractions. Around 4, I asked if I could get that epidural anytime soon, and though I’d only progressed a little further (3-4), they said okay. By the time the anesthesiologist got in the room and set up his cart o’ fun, I was IN PAIN, and apparently, I’d jumped to a 6 or 7 within that next hour.
He told me my back was an anesthesiologist’s dream. Wow. Now, feeling big, chunky,n breathless, and pregnant, that was solace to my ears! Once that nectar kicked in, I was back to my happy self.
Now, this time, I told him ahead of time that I had had “hot spots” with the last two labors (a big spot where the epidural didn’t work), so he expertly inserted the needle more shallowly than other anesth.’s and it worked. This time, I wasn’t completely numb. I could still feel activity (sort of).
The doctor came in to check me, and said she’d break my water to get things moving. You know I was all about getting things moving. I called my mom and only got voicemail. Told my mom things were about to get interesting. Once the baby got moving, she wasn’t wasting any time.
And they did. Between 6 and 6:15, I felt pressure and Jeff called the nurse back in. She had me push once to see if she could get the baby moving, and then stopped me. The baby was all ready. They got the doctor, set everything up, and by 6:15 got me ready.
I either forgot how to push or could only do it while completely numb. Having a little bit of feeling totally threw me off. Jeff said my face was all red, my fists were clamped, and I looked like our children do when they’re straining to do “strong.” So, after I had urinated towards the doctor (yes, I know, gross, but not as gross as it could have been), I guess I figured out which muscles to use because 15 minutes later (9 pushes and 3 contractions), Lexi was out at 6:34 p.m.
The funny part was that Jeff was on one side of me rooting “come on little fella” and the delivery nurse was on the other side chanting “come on little girl.” The doctor pulled out the baby and turned her “parts” toward the nurse. The nurse said “Ha.” And Jeff said, “what is it?” “It’s a girl.”
A girl?? We totally weren’t prepared for that. We’ve thought this baby was a boy from the beginning. We were asked what her name was. “We don’t know. We thought it was a boy.”
Anyway, we figured it all out after an hour or so of deliberation and Alexandria (Lexi) Joy was named. She's named for my brother, Alex, and Jeff's mom and sister's middle name.
She’s such a sweet baby, a good sleeper, only whimpers when she’s hungry, dirty, or needs to burp. Who can complain about that?
Monday, March 30, 2009
Baby is Here
Okay, for those of you who don't know (and I've been a little too preoccupied to write - - so sorry), we got the surprise of our life.
We welcomed little Alexandria Joy into the world last Thursday at 6:34 p.m. She's 10 days old now and is the sweetest little gal. She was such a good sleeper until I had some caffeine. She didn't fall totally asleep until 2:00 a.m. last night, and needless-to-say, I'm a little groggy today.
Will fill the blogging world in on the details of her birth (we hadn't settled on her name because we were SO SURE she was a boy!)...in a few days. In addition to her birth, we also had to take our older two to get tubes in their ears when Lexi was just 6 days old. This has been quite a week as you can well imagine.
Thankfully, Jeff's mom is here occupying "the squeaky wheel" who needs loads of attention!!
Here's a couple of pictures of my newest little precious.
We welcomed little Alexandria Joy into the world last Thursday at 6:34 p.m. She's 10 days old now and is the sweetest little gal. She was such a good sleeper until I had some caffeine. She didn't fall totally asleep until 2:00 a.m. last night, and needless-to-say, I'm a little groggy today.
Will fill the blogging world in on the details of her birth (we hadn't settled on her name because we were SO SURE she was a boy!)...in a few days. In addition to her birth, we also had to take our older two to get tubes in their ears when Lexi was just 6 days old. This has been quite a week as you can well imagine.
Thankfully, Jeff's mom is here occupying "the squeaky wheel" who needs loads of attention!!
Here's a couple of pictures of my newest little precious.
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