veda's birth story

I labored for 3 full days. (In case you missed that post, you can find it here.)

It's strange - living in the world among people and doing the usual things I do while feeling so completely unusual. Those days of laboring and contracting took place in their own dimension. It's otherworldly to me, and it felt like that with Nova too. It's a weird and quiet kind of reverent feeling. Not necessarily serious or miserable (until, of course, it gets serious and miserable). But it's solemn. It feels tender and strong both physically and mentally. I feel the urge to be still and rest as much as I can to store up energy. It's similar to a fever. Not feverish in the way it feels, but feverish in the sense that all you want is for everything stay in place and remain peaceful. Not a lot of movement, not a lot of noise, not a lot of commotion.

It seems like it'd be almost impossible for an environment to feel like that with two other kids around, but they knew things were different. They were their usual 2 and 5 year old selves all throughout those 3 days, but once they saw my hands reach out to the closest piece of furniture, my body bent over, and heard my breathing, they came to my side quietly and rubbed my back. I would nod my head as they asked, "Mom, are you having a 'constraction'?" They had been watching how Colt responded to me and decided to react in the same way. It was really precious.

On Friday morning, March 10th, at 3:45 a.m. we had been at the hospital for around 30 minutes. Once we signed our names on some initial paperwork, the nurse checked me and I was a 5. A five! I was so relieved and so excited. By 4 a.m., we were in a room and by 4:30 a.m., I was a 6 and fully effaced. My doctor came in around this time and broke my water. As soon as we got settled, I told the nurse I'd like an epidural whenever they could get around to it.

It was totally my plan to try for another natural birth like I had with Duke, but I also didn't want to labor all the way to a 9 and stall for 3 hours like I did with Nova. Getting an epidural at a 9 was not something I wanted to repeat. And because I had been up with practically zero sleep for the past 72 hours, there was no way that I had the energy, stamina, or mental power to continue laboring. Opting for an epidural was a no-brainer. I needed that bed and I needed those drugs and I needed some rest.

Several of Bethany Barnard's songs made it onto my labor playlist. "Your praise is an ocean, and my troubles are a puddle"

At 5:00 a.m., I got the epidural. Praise God from whom all epidurals flow. Around 7:15 a.m., our nurse, Jody, was about to start pitocin as another nurse was checking me. But once they saw that I was a 9.5, they realized there was no need for pitocin. They could summon the troops. (My doctor had a root canal scheduled for that morning, so there were at least two of us that wanted this baby out as soon as possible.)

Contracting as the epidural was kicking in

After about 5-10 minutes of pushing, our sweet Veda arrived at 8:07 a.m. on Friday, March 10th, 2017.

She was identical to Nova when she came out except for that full head of BROWN hair. My heart leapt when I saw it! She was a dream come true. All of the nurses began commenting on her size and I thought, Eh, she looks average. Then I heard the nurse shout, "10 lbs. 1 oz.!" from the scale. I laughed and thought no wonder it hurt to walk! Later on, they measured her length and she was 22 inches. Colt noted, "She's almost halfway to a Frontier City ride!"

Duke had his spring pre-k program that morning, hence the dots on his face. :)

To me, Veda's birth story is the least dramatic of the three. It was the longest labor and there were exhausting and painful hours when I felt really desperate, but the hospital part of it? E-a-s-y. By the time I got to that point, I was planning on getting an epidural so there was nothing to question or decide. I knew after 3 full days of contractions that this birth would resemble the others, but most certainly Nova's. This wasn't going to be one of those "My 3rd baby just slipped right out!" stories. All signs were pointing to a long and hard and 3-hours-to-change-1-centimeter kind of birth. Because I had experienced a natural birth and an almost natural birth that was absolutely crazy, it made sense to take a completely different route. What if I sat in the hospital bed and hung out and waited to dilate? I could hardly fathom it!

I love that they each have their own special story. One was by the book, one threw the book out the window and set it on fire, and one gently reminded me that the book doesn't exist. Although my birth experiences didn't come without a handful of doubts, disappointments, and, ultimately, life lessons alongside them, my dreams came true. The Lord wanted my story and these kids' stories to look this way. I have three healthy children and there was not one moment in any of their labors or deliveries that was an emergency. That right there is a blessing and a miracle, and I will never take it for granted.

We are so thankful for our sweet Veda making us a family of 5.

Photos taken by the lovely Sara Young
Read Nova's birth story here and Duke's birth story here.

the days before veda

Recording and writing about the day of and the days surrounding my kids' births is one of my favorite things to do. Their birth stories (Duke's, Nova's) foreshadowed so much of their personalities. I think it's so wonderful that even from day 1 we began to get glimpses of who they would become. Veda's labor and birth seems to fall somewhere in the middle of Duke and Nova. She wasn't as stubborn as Nova, nor as prompt as Duke.

I'll start at her due date which was a week before she actually showed up. Each day, I jotted down some thoughts, notes, or happenings.

FRIDAY, MARCH 3RD

Veda's due date, March 3rd, came and went just like Nova's due date. It seems that of all the days I've ever been pregnant, the due date is the day that the most people happen to ask, "So when are you due?" They never expect to hear, "Well, today!"

I woke up, took the kids to school, met up with my mom for a mani/pedi, went to my church for a meeting, and then ran some errands. That evening, Colt and I got to squeeze in one last date.

I had registered to go to a conference the next morning, but as I went to bed that night, I wasn't sure if I wanted to go. How do I want to spend what I assumed would be my last Saturday morning before a new baby? I thought through it as I fell asleep. One of the hard things for me to sacrifice during newborn season is not getting out as much as I want to. For me, getting my babies on good schedules with dependable rest and feedings takes priority. So that gave me my answer. I planned on waking up and heading out the door first thing in the morning.

SATURDAY, MARCH 4TH

I walked into the church that morning with my 40 weeks plus 1 day belly and all the chaos that comes with buying a house and having yours on the market. One guitar strum into the conference and I found myself weepy. There was a lot going on in life, yes, but more than that, I was feeling the sweet, weird, other-dimension-like tenderness of living past your due date. I was a prime candidate for tears.

It's funny that something I was so unsure about attending ended up being a pretty precious milestone for me. I was challenged in the very thing that was coming my way - a new season.

I am constantly at battle with myself to do more or to do less. I've learned that my natural tendency is to say yes and to commit to more than I should, or at least more than is good for my sanity. Because of that, I've learned to say no and to really try and weigh what takes priority. However, I've also recognized that the enemy can be behind that voice. I can think I'm doing a good thing by saying no or not jumping into something when really it's just fear of the unknown, fear of taking a risk, fear of crowding my plate too much. Not my new habit of guarding my time.

It's not like I walked away with a whole new direction on my life, but I walked away with a little more kindness towards that thing in me that so quickly and eagerly wants to jump up and raise my hand at every request in life. It was good for me to go against my natural grain these past few years by practicing the word "no." I have to remember that no is an option and that it's good for me. But it's also good for me to embrace the healthy version of being someone who says yes and fills life up with what the Lord is asking me to fill it up with.

Being busy isn't innately bad. Like everything, it has to be monitored, balanced, and moderated. What can be bad is the kind of busy that we are. A life of world-induced busy or Claire-induced busy isn't going to feel satisfying or allow for rest, but a life of Lord-induced busy will.

SUNDAY, MARCH 5TH

Colt and I got to play one last time together this Sunday at church. Not being able to play/sing on Sundays together is one of the things I miss a lot when I have a new baby. It was sweet that we got one more chance to do it.

MONDAY, MARCH 6TH

I went on a get-the-baby-out walk this night with Tally and Sara. I've done these walks with each of my kids and it's been interesting to see what has come, or hasn't come, from them. After the walk that night, I sat on my birthing ball for an hour or so. Throughout the day, I did a few side lying releases, a suggestion from my fancy midwife friend, Jenni. I also started popping those Evening Primrose Oil pills.

Colt and his man-bun assisting me in a few side lying releases.

I finally got my bag and the kids' bags packed for whenever Veda decided to show up. You know, things you should probably check off the list three days after your due date.

TUESDAY, MARCH 7TH

I had one of those still-asleep-but-awake moments early this morning when I thought, I'm having a contraction, but I don't have to wake up for it. After a handful of contractions in that state, I finally jolted awake at 5:15 a.m. with a contraction that had a little more sting to it. However, I could still lie in bed and breathe quietly through it. And that's how they continued for the next 2 hours in bed. I had about 7 of them, 15-30 minutes apart.

I got up that morning and realized there were some other signs that things were moving along. Contractions continued the rest of this morning, but only every hour or hour and a half.

I had an appointment at 11:45 a.m. that day and was excited to tell of my labor beginning. I had dilated to a 1 at 36 weeks and a 2 at 37 weeks. I stayed at a 2 until this day, 40 weeks plus 4 days. My doctor told me I was 70% effaced and dilated to a 3. A THREE. I had already been amazed at how much I'd progressed so far, but hearing this was beyond exciting.

Around 3:30 p.m. that afternoon, contractions got closer together and happened every 15-30 minutes until 11:30 p.m. that night.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 8TH

I woke up with a contraction at 1:30 a.m. and had one every 45 minutes to an hour throughout the rest of the morning.

Around 2:00 p.m., they took a turn and got a little more painful. They occurred anywhere from 9-30 minutes apart and the intensity had grown by the time we went to bed that night.

My parents kept the kids overnight because I really thought this was it. Colt and I took a late night walk, hoping to rev everything up. However, the reverse happened, as they began to spread out a little more.

We went to bed late that night. Contractions continued and, while I was able to drift off to sleep in between them, I did have to get out of bed to stand up and breathe through each one.

THURSDAY, MARCH 9TH

Around 4 a.m., I moved to the bath. Lights were off, candles were lit, music was playing, and I was contracting every 6-10 minutes for awhile. After an hour and a half, they began spreading out a bit more, so I decided to finish the night in the living room.

That morning, we decided to head to the hospital. It was around 9:30 a.m. and although I felt ready, I also felt strange. I shouldn't be headed to the hospital in the daylight to have a baby. That's such a nighttime-while-everyone-is-asleep kind of activity. There's something weird about this. But contractions were pretty painful and around 8-9 minutes apart, so we went.

As things like this go, we stepped into the hospital and the contractions spread out. We were there for a total of 2.5 hours and I only had 4 contractions in that time. Also, the nurse informed me that I was still dilated to a 3. "You said I'm still a 3?" I had to make sure I was hearing her clearly. It had been 2 full days of labor since my last appointment when I was a 3. All of that and no progressing? It was hard to believe, but I did light-heartedly tell her, "You know, I knew this couldn't be it because it was daytime. I don't go into active labor when the sun is out."

She asked if I wanted to get induced. As much as I wanted this baby out and these contractions to stop, I said no.

A few days earlier, I had a dream that was so vivid. I dream a lot and so many of my dreams have real meaning. God gives me direction or reveals something or gives me some kind of encouraging word/picture/story for someone else. Many times, even seemingly silly or strange dreams have significance. So over the years, I've learned to pay attention. I won't go into the details of the dream, but I felt very strongly that I should trust what I was sensing and opt out of getting induced.

This left me with no other option than to go home. I had to keep laboring and keep doing what I was doing which, at this point, felt like a form of torture. I'd never gotten labor "wrong." It was surprising to me that with the way my body felt I wasn't further along. I was exhausted and hitting my emotional breaking point.

Colt and I got in the car and I cried a lot. We drove through Cane's to grab lunch and the sweet young girl working the drive-thru said, "Whoa, you're about to pop!" It made me want to cry more - not because she had offended me, but because I was thinking, Well, you'd think so!

Colt drove me to my parents' house where the kids were and then he headed back to work. Contractions were very painful and came every 6-10 minutes throughout the evening. There were also some additional signs that labor was picking up and things were changing.

We had the kids stay with my parents overnight again because I was certain there couldn't be another day of this. There was just no way.

We headed home and decided to sleep on the two couches in our living room because it was much easier for me to pop up and contract from there. At the nurse's suggestion, I took a Tylenol PM to keep me drowsy enough so I could fall asleep in between contractions. I also kept the low murmur of HGTV on in the background to help distract from the pain. The contractions continued throughout the night around every 10-12 minutes.

It was a slow and quiet night with not many words to each other. For most of my contractions, Colt, a normally heavy sleeper, heard my movements as I got up to stand. By the time I let out my first breath, he was next to me. I will always hold some sweet memories from this night.

FRIDAY, MARCH 10TH

The pain took another turn. I was absolutely certain this wasn't going to slow down. We were going to have a baby. We left for the hospital around 3 a.m.

36 weeks - thoughts, reflections, and excitement

This pregnancy is coming to an end. (Well, I use "end" loosely. I'm 36 weeks tomorrow and, while I don't wish to go 13 days over again, I'm not ruling it out of the possibilities.) Although I won't miss breathing heavily, the nightly heartburn, and the constant need to pee, I will miss Veda being in my belly. I really like and enjoy being pregnant even if it means I get fat face, my voice changes, and I have to do gymnastics to put on my pants.

For those of you who know my life (or who read this blog), you may remember that Duke came on his due date and Nova came 13 days late. Because their birth stories turned out to be so absolutely and perfectly matched with their personalities, I am so curious to see what this little babe will do. Will she be full of surprises? Will she be "nice and easy," as Nova once claimed over her? Will she be stubborn? Will she be early? Will she be late? Will my labor be any easier than the other two?  

I have no answers to these questions, but I love not having answers. I love this part - the wondering and the waiting. I wish that at any point in my life, I could jump back into being 36+ weeks pregnant for just a few minutes to feel these unique feelings of anticipation.

But even beyond the last days of pregnancy, the labor, and the childbirth, I am so excited to see our family of five take shape.

I know there are plenty of things I could be worried about. How will everyone adjust? Will Veda nurse? Will Nova do okay suddenly not being the only girl? Will we all lose our minds in this house? Can I really tote 3 kids around all by myself? Etc. But honestly, I haven't worried about this stuff that much. I have talked about it and thought about it, but I haven't really worried about it. I guess that's maybe part of the third-time mom gig though. There are things you know and can plan for, and then there are things you just have to let happen. So instead of losing sleep over worrying, I have mostly lost sleep over the things I'm most excited about.

I am excited for that first moment of meeting Veda. "Meet" doesn't even really work as the word to describe it. I mean, how do you describe the moment when you finally see the baby you've been dreaming about, planning for, talking about, and carrying for 9 months? "Meet" hardly does it justice. It's one of the most beautiful, most overwhelming, most perfect moments in all of life.

I am excited to watch Colt. I love watching Colt in new-dad mode. The way he carries me through the labor and delivery, the way he pushes through exhaustion to support me, the way he jumps up to change all the diapers and fill all the requests I make of him, the way he cares for me. It's odd because it's the most tiring season of all of life, but it's also romantic and dreamy.

I am excited to watch the kids experience all of it. To see Duke become a big brother again, but with a completely different perspective and understanding this time. To see Nova practice her mommy-ing skills on a real little person. To see both of them step into new roles, new responsibility, and new big-ness.

I am excited to see this house burst at the seams. It's something I don't think I ever imagined when we bought it. I envisioned having kids here I guess, but not necessarily three of them. There's something sweet about using up every inch of every floor and every shelf of every closet. While moving and getting a little more space is something we'd love to do at some point, we are patiently waiting for the right house and for God's timing. Until then, the five of us will be here together.

I am excited to see who I become. With each child - the pregnancy, the delivery, the first months - God is very intent on teaching me things. He chisels away at me, working through the grime of my sin and wrong beliefs. He teaches me about his character and he teaches me about mine. It might sound strange, but I like myself better with each new baby he has given me. I like where 30 year old Claire is way better than 25 year old Claire. Each new baby has made me a better person, a better wife, a better mom, and a better friend. Don't misunderstand me - I can list all of my flaws and struggles out for you quite easily. But there's a lot of self-awareness that comes to the surface in newborn land. God does some meaningful work in me through motherhood and, while I don't necessarily enjoy the learning process it takes to get there, I am always thankful for it. What a beautiful thing it is that God uses the blessing and the weight of most wonderful gifts to mold me into who I should be.

Veda Claire

I was thinking we might actually birth this baby before giving her a name, but I'm glad to have settled on one beforehand. Baby #3 has officially been named Veda (pronounced Vayduh) Claire.

The first time I ever heard the name Veda was on the movie "My Girl." (Although hers was spelled Vada.) The second time I heard it was in college. There was a band named Veda (now Vedera) that I really liked. But it wasn't until we were sifting through girl names this time around that I saw it and thought it belonged on our list to consider. I remember loving the sound of that name as a little girl and I still feel the same about it today. Claire was an obvious choice for us for her middle name. I love that her name will carry a piece of me.

Veda means knowledge or understanding and Claire means bright, clear, or shining. I love the combination of all of those things, and I will be praying them over her. That she will be a person who has a clear understanding of who she is and who God is. That she will have a gift to discern and know things that may feel confusing or unclear to the people or world around her. That her ability to understand people or situations produces a big heart of compassion in her. That she will be a bright representation of the character of God so that others come to a knowledge of him through her.

Veda Claire, we love you so much already. See you soon.

looking back on grace, looking forward to expand

I just re-read my post from last year about grace, which was my word for 2016. It was an interesting read because I had forgotten how I felt coming into this past year. I can't really put my finger on it or give some life-changing revelatory moment that shifted my thinking, but I do know that things have changed. That doesn't mean I've mastered this art, of course. Giving myself grace and allowing myself room to make mistakes or change plans will always be a challenge of mine. (After all, I'm a 1 on the Enneagram. It will be a lifelong mission.) But I do know that God has worked in me this past year and I'm thankful to be in a new place.

As I enter into 2017, there's more of a comfort in knowing I can't do it all or be it all. God has never asked me to. And no one else has either. It doesn't feel like "giving up" anymore to pick what's important to me, do it, and then say goodbye to the rest. (Jen Hatmaker's chapter in "For the Love" about picking what's on your beam was really helpful and encouraging to me if you happen to find yourself stuck in that conundrum.) Ultimately, the choice in 2016 was to decide what I would believe. Would I believe what the world says - that having it all is really important? Would I believe the perfectionist or inner critic that can lurk inside of me? Or would I believe what God says about me, my life, my gifts, and my purpose? I must've opted for the latter more often than not because I felt lighter leaving 2016.

When I look back on the year, I think of two specific seasons when I reacted in a typically "out of character" way for me, proving that God was doing things in me and shifting my mindset.

First, I think about how releasing an EP with my band, Mopak, was a set plan for this past year. It was on the horizon with a very clear path leading up to it. These songs had been birthed in me during the recent years and I felt like they were ready to share. I was so excited to tell this story. As a band, we were writing, practicing a handful of times each month, and even playing places. (I know, a band playing gigs! It's revolutionary! But it actually was for us.) Everything was going as planned. Until it wasn't. We kept having to push our recording date back, the songs weren't completely ready, things were feeling rushed, and, to top it all off, our Kickstarter didn't get funded. Things stopped falling into place and it just didn't feel right to shove them there. Aside from all of that, our bassist was awaiting the arrival of baby #4 and I had just gotten pregnant with baby #3. It was obviously time for another shift from band mode to baby mode.

It wasn't a devastating time, but I was pretty sad to put that project on the back burner. However, it surprisingly took me less time to get over this disappointment than I would've imagined. Typically, my response would've been to sulk for weeks, contemplate the meaning of my life, doubt my skills, question my ability to do what I say I'm going to do, and internally punish myself for not meeting my very desired goal. But I knew deep down that if and when the Lord wanted this music to be finished, he would make it happen. Thanks to God, Colt, and my people, I was able to move on pretty quickly from this let down.

I hadn't revisited any of these thoughts or emotions until our pastor said something a few Sundays ago. He was listing off different life circumstances or feelings that might resonate with us. I sat at the piano feeling disconnected from all of them. Until he got to the last one. "I feel like I need to remind some people in the room that a dream delayed is not a dream destroyed." My eyes immediately filled with tears as I thought about this delayed musical dream. On the one hand, I'm living out the dream of having a third baby. But I am still holding this project in my other hand. There's a tension that exists in holding both and waiting. Yet, what a sweet reminder that this dream has not been destroyed. Who knows all of God's reasons for delaying it, but I trust he has some good ones.

So as I moved out of this season with the band, I moved straight into the first trimester of this pregnancy, my second example of when grace just had to win. I was an exhausted mom of two living with constant nausea, aversions, cravings, and intense emotions. Needless to say, a lot of things fell by the wayside. A bin of clean laundry to fold resided in our living room as if it were a piece of furniture. Many days, dishes were in the sink when Colt came home from work, which is not how I typically operate. We spent more money on going out to eat than we ever do. To-do lists were made and items weren't crossed off. I felt like I was a zombie going through life most days. And while I didn't do everything right in that season of life, I will say that I really did my best to not beat myself up about my lack of energy and accomplishments. I jumped into grace and made a nice little home there while my body was forming this new little baby. As someone who values hard work (sometimes a little too much), I am grateful for the reminder that my worth is not determined by the amount of household tasks I get done in a day. That's a hard one to remember as a stay-at-home mom.

2016 was a great year and I'm glad I got a bit closer to understanding what it looks like to live under the umbrella of grace instead of expectations, goals, and plans.

I have been thinking and praying about what my word would be for 2017 and I feel like the Lord gave me the word Expand. I type this word as my arms curl around the expanding belly in front of me. It's obvious that I'm expanding, but I think my belly is just one of the many ways I will experience expansion in the coming year.

My heart is expanding as it stretches and loves a new member of our family. Our family number count is expanding. Our home is expanding to squeeze 5 people in it. My capacity will expand to handle and manage three children each day instead of two. My perspective and mind will expand as dreams and hopes may look differently than planned or require a different timeline. And I have no doubt that the Lord has some ideas of his own around the idea of expansion. I am always a work in progress, figuring out what parts of me to hold on to and what parts of me to let go of, change, and allow the Lord to work on.

I am looking forward to an exciting year that will certainly be full of challenges and adjustment, but will also be rewarding and full of growth.

welcome to the third trimester

Several nights ago, I was at a lipsense party and trying on the millionth color of the night. I never wear makeup, so deciding on a lip color was ... hard. Am I picking an everyday color even though I'm not an everyday-lipstick-wearer? Am I picking a every-once-in-a-while color which basically means the tube of lipstick will last me several years? Thankfully, I have good friends who know about makeup and told me what to do. I ended up with an everyday color as well as a bit of an intense color. But the best part about the whole night was when I had this intense color (Rhubarb) on and Sara said, "Claire, you need that color! That's what I picture you in! Your black and white stripes, glasses, fun lip color, and blogging!" This has made me laugh intermittently throughout the past weeks for lots of reasons, but one being because I hardly ever blog anymore.

I really like blogging and, trust me, there have been plenty of #thingstosay about life, but once I arrive at the coveted naptime each day, I find other things to do. But I'm making/letting myself blog today so I can share a little life update.

Colt and I just got back from our babymoon in NYC. It has always been a dream to go with him (one more thing crossed off my 30x30 list!), but even more so since seeing "Waitress" back in May. I wanted so badly to see it with him. He surprised me with plane tickets for my birthday in July and we finally got to make that dream, along with many others, come true this past week.

I'm so thankful we got some solid time together before this little baby girl comes in March. We slept in, had brunch, explored, took evening naps, and had conversations that were completely interruption-free. I really love this guy.

Grand Central Station

The New York Public Library

"Wicked"

"Waitress"

Stardust Diner

The 9/11 National Memorial Museum

Joe's Pizza

SNL Dress Rehearsal

On the SNL stage

Rockefeller Tree

Central Park

But I need to back up for the sake of the documentation of this pregnancy. Somewhere around 15-16 weeks, the nausea stopped, the exhaustion let up, my energy level shot up, and I was able to eat (and enjoy) food in my house again. But man, that first trimester was hard stuff. I felt sick, had lots of headaches, dealt with a sinus infection (my first ever), and had a constant list of things I absolutely could not eat and things I desperately had to put in my mouth within the next 30 seconds or I'd melt. But I survived. I made it through with the help of chicken noodle soup, naps, lots of eating out, Colt (who basically ran this household because I felt paralyzed when it came to chores and preparing food), and Sara Groves.

So take up what we’ve been given
Welcome the edge of our days
Hemmed in by sunrise and sunset
By our youth and by our age
Thank God for our dependence
Here’s to our chasm of need
And how it binds us together
In faith and vulnerability

This cup, this cup
I wanna drink it up
To be right here in the middle of it
Right here, right here
This challenging reality
Is better than fear or fantasy

Listening to these words reminded me that this season of feeling sick and exhausted while taking care of two children would only last for so long and that I could still find beauty in a challenging reality. I was still grumpy and unendlessly hungry and just had to have fries and a malt to survive the day many times, but there was also a calm knowing that this was all still a wonderful thing - to be pregnant with two other little people running around, reminding me what all of this was for.

Finding out our little babe was a girl was so much fun, but no surprise at all. I mean, honestly, we all knew it was a girl. In fact, when we told Duke, he was a little frustrated. "Mom! I told you it was a girl this whole time!" And it's true, he did. I'm so excited for Duke to be a big brother to two precious girls and I can't wait to see Nova fill her new big sister/middle child role.

 

A couple of weeks ago, I failed my glucose test and had to take the 3 hour one. It felt pretty devastating to me because I didn't fail with Duke or Nova. I thought something might've really been different this time. Thinking about watching what I ate for the duration of this pregnancy sounded like absolute doom. I was so relieved to find out I passed the 3 hour test and that all of my levels were completely normal.

Although I have definitely noticed how different things are being 30 and carrying baby #3, I'm still feeling great. I have always loved being pregnant and this time is no different. I am aware of the crazy blessing that it is and am very grateful.

As for now, I'm 28 weeks and my mind and days are occupied with my "Before the Baby Comes" to-do list, which has already included an exciting room change-up for the kiddos as they now share a room. It has had its challenges, but sleep is something we take very seriously in this house. We try to give grace and let the fun of sleeping in the same room run its course, but we also try to keep the shenanigans to a minimum. It's been around a month now and I think we've all adjusted pretty well.

Other than that, our to-do list includes things like building extra shelves in the kids' closet so we can add Nova's clothes in with Duke's, putting the crib up, getting the nursery ready, and many other miscellaneous things that are completely non-urgent and unnecessary in order for the baby to come but that seem like emergencies to me. Ah, nesting. I love it. It's like an excuse to be my naturally crazy self about getting things done. Of course, it feels overwhelming at times, but it's also so exciting to be making room for a new member of our family. I don't think I ever imagined living in this house with 3 kids, but here we are and we're going to make it work!

Just as suspected, this pregnancy has gone by a lot faster than the other two simply because my days are busier and fuller. And with the holidays coming up, the new year will be here before I know it. And from there, it's baby shower, final preparations, and, of course, the waiting for her to come, which is my favorite part of all.

becoming a family of 5

As a new mom of one, I wondered how in the WORLD people ever had more than one child. What kind of witchcraft is involved for such a feat? How were they doing this? Did they just give up on their lives?

I was a mom of one wishing to be a mom of more one day, but I could not wrap my brain around how that was actually going to be possible - physically, spiritually, mentally, emotionally. I looked at these moms like they had found some magic ingredient I was somehow missing. Maybe I'm just not 'mom material,' I would tell myself in my Kirsten Dunst voice.

Fast forward five years and I find myself pregnant with baby #3. I'm totally drinking the Kool-Aid.

I had forgotten I used to have all of these thoughts until I talked with a mom of one a few weeks ago. I noticed the way she looked at my friends and me. Like we were heroes and had done something truly amazing. She didn't know how we did it. But I reassured her that one child is very hard. One child is plenty of chaos, crying, whining, diapers, boo-boos, laundry, discipline, and messes. Adding more is just more. More of all that same stuff. More can still be hard, and it is many times! But man, once you get that baseline mom-ness in your blood, the adding of another kid just isn't as traumatic. At least that's how it felt for us when we added Nova into the mix.

I can't speak to what three will do to my life. I'm aware of the concept of being outnumbered, but right now, I'm really not worried about it.

I've learned that there's a fine line between my love for plans and worrying in advance. I'm working on it and I think I'm getting better. I still love my precious plans and playing out some hypothetical situations that are healthy and productive to play out, but I'm trying to stay away from worry and fear. There will be a lot of changes over the course of the next year. Lots of things up in the air. But what I've discovered is that I don't have to know how things will go down before they do.

This realization came a few months ago at our women's retreat where one of my favorite women in our church spoke. She talked about growing up as one of nine children. People would ask her mom how she did it. How did she do NINE children? Her answer was simple and so encouraging. She would say, "Well, when I had one kid, I had one-kid grace. When I had two kids, I had two-kid grace. With nine kids, I have nine-kid grace." This was like a breath of fresh air to me.

There's simply no use in wondering whether or not I'll have the grace or patience or mom-ness to handle three children because I legitimately don't have the grace for it right now. I have the grace and capacity to handle what's in front of me - Duke and Nova. It does me no good to jump forward 6 months with worry and doubt in my mind.

Now, that doesn't mean that grace is magically and easily planted into our hearts at the time we need it. These kinds of graces the Lord gives us come with refinement and our share of growing pains. That's inevitable. But God gave me what I needed when I had Duke and when I had Nova. And he'll do it again.

We are really excited to be in this spot as a family. Duke is thrilled and totally gets what's going on. Nova knows there's a baby in my belly, but obviously has no idea what is actually going to happen. Many times, Colt and I exchange glances with raised eyebrows when all hell is breaking loose in our home, reminding each other that another one is, in fact, on the way. But then we sit on the couch after bedtime routines and talk about how crazy we are about our kids. We can't wait to see who this little person is growing inside of me.

We are incredibly thankful for where God has us as a family right now and look forward to what the coming months will bring.

BFBN guest post: being his girl when positives turn to negatives

Today is Babywise Friendly Blog Network day and we've added several new members to the network!  I'm over on Kimberly's blog talking about living by faith with my kids and introducing them to our beliefs.  Amy is here talking about her journey with infertility and the struggle to trust God in the midst of it.

Being His Girl When Positives Turn to Negatives

My daughter-in-law & I were matching socks and having normal conversation. We typically spend a day together throughout the week doing laundry, chasing kids, and catching up on the latest. I asked her about her pregnancy a few times throughout the day and her response was minimal and lacked any enthusiasm. If I would have taken the time to access what I had seen & heard from her body language in the last few weeks, I would've known right away, but I didn't.

I continued to ask til finally I laid down the obvious in question form...

Why are you not excited about this baby?

Why don't you ever talk about your pregnancy?

You know you can be happy around me, right?

I certainly thought this must be about me.

Why else would she be harboring joyful feelings about a new baby?

We found out they were expecting again just recently. It was a tough time just because we had lost our own pregnancy one month prior. Although we were happy to be having another sweet one on the way, we were reminded of what we also just lost a few short weeks ago. I was certain that she was being careful around me because of that and didn't want to rub it in that she was pregnant. How selfish my heart can be at times.

She barely looked up at me and said, "I just don't know how things are going to work out..."

What could she mean?
Finances?...things will always work itself out.
Housing?...they do have a small place and will need another bedroom.
Work?...Juggling a schedule, 2 kids, a home, and possibly school in the fall...

All of these things are factors that can be overcome, she must know that.

Then she spoke, still with her face downward pretending to be focused on the socks...

"The Dr said that I am probably losing the baby."

What!? How?

My heart sank deep and a range of emotions set in. For two weeks this dear girl, my own daughter, had known her baby was possibly dying and didn't say a word. I couldn't believe it.

Infertility and pregnancy loss has always been a part of my married life. With 11 losses and 17 yrs of infertility experience, I am a seasoned veteran in this arena. This is what I know, who I am, this is my area of expertise. It's been my scarlet letter, my identity, my testimony... how can my daughter sit across from me for weeks and I miss all the signs?

A few days later I rubbed her back and sat with her as she labored in the passing of my grand baby.

Trusting God while hating infertility is a tough combination. A friend of mine explained it to me like this the other day...

A women hates infertility which causes her excruciating pain and loss, all the while she loves the God who can save her from it, One who can take it all away but chooses not to.

It's a tough balance.

Infertility and pregnancy loss is about trusting God. Bottom-line.

Every testimony you hear, every story you read, every article, diagnosis, every failed cycle or blank pregnancy test is about Him. The One who gives life and the One who can chose not to give it. It's about learning to rely on and give glory to a God who loves you even when He tells you no. Even when He allows your womb to be closed and your positives turn to negatives.

It's the same as any loss or disappointment you may face in life.

You can look forward into the future, you can look behind you into despair, or you can tilt your chin upward and see hope. God's tenderness in times like that are only seen if you look up. If you look too far ahead you may see fear, afraid to trust God because of what you have already gone through. If you look behind, you may feel anger, reminding yourself of what you wanted rescued from, but had to endure.

But. If you look up; you will see truth. You will see that you are not being punished, not being disciplined, and not being unworthy.

Your heart will soon start to see that you are not only set apart for God's great purpose but you are actually favored. Set aside, not as you are in trouble, but as you are the star pupil, the leading role, and the blessed one. The trusted one. The one that when the enemy cowers before the Lord and asks permission to test you, God says yes...because He knows your heart. He hears the conversation between you and Him and He knows that as much as you want to have a baby or be a mother again; you want Him more! And He is willing to show the world that your core response to any heartache that may come against you; will always be that you love Him beyond it all and you are His girl!

If you look up, you will be reminded that while you are running this race with calloused soles and swollen joints; He is standing at the finish line with a bouquet of flowers and wild anticipation in His eyes that is eager for you the closer you get. And as you close the race & finish well, He envelopes you with joy, understanding, and believe it or not...laughter. He is what you desire most and He can never be taken away.

It's never been about us, about you, or about me.

It's not about what we want and what we don't have.
It certainly not about what others have and why they have it.
Its always simply just been about Him...
and about His love for you.

looking back on pregnancy #2

Presenting Nova's life inside my belly:

(the day of Nova's due date, May 16th)

(40 weeks & 6 days)

 (in labor right outside of the hospital // 41 weeks & 5 days)

Nova was born the next day, 13 days overdue.  It was a rough wait, but she was definitely worth it. :)

{Click here to look back on pregnancy #1.}