HER birth

Throughout my pregnancy with Neve, I had planned to write how things were going.
Emotional, physical, mental feelings about it all...but never sat down to do it.
Even now, I feel so physically exhausted it's all I can do to keep my eyes open and stare at the screen.
I'm forcing myself to think and to relay information, because details slip from our minds with time, and sleep-deprivation often changes facts to far fetched fiction.

So, lets start with the end.
Yeah, her birth - because that truly is the beginning.
My pregnancy went very smoothly, comparatively.  Of course I battled with nausea and vomiting in the beginning, had contractions from early on (which made me think she may come early), and dealt with swollen ankles, rib pain and bouts of insomnia.
Yet, each time I went to the doctor I was told things were perfect and that there is nothing of concern. I was graduated from the High Risk doc (which we were seeing on a precautionary basis because of my prior pregnancies)...and even at the end, my body wasn't even dilating like I had thought (and of course secretly hoped!) :)
When I scheduled my c-section for 39 weeks, I never for a moment thought I'd make it to that date.
But, we did.
Neve would have probably been perfectly content to stay put even beyond that...but Jan 30, 2013 was the date we had scheduled to evict Miss Neve.
The nights leading up to her birthday I got a lot accomplished...I felt as "prepared" as possible.
I didn't sleep much at all the night before we went in for my c-section, but still popped my head off the pillow at 6:15 am and was ready to go within minutes.  My bags had been packed for weeks (in preparation for an early delivery)...and my checklist was all marked off.  It was surreal driving over to the hospital NOT in labor.  Easily checking in and being wheeled off to the triage labor and delivey space.  They were already preparing for me...my gown, ivs, medical forms, and nurse all waiting.  We casually talked with the nurses about how excited we were to be having a girl and it just felt so strange just laying there "waiting my turn" - listening to Neve's heartbeat which we could hear on monitor.  Strong and steady, unaware that her life was going to change drastically within the hour.
And then it was our turn.  I waddled over to the wheelchair and they took us back to the OR.  Tim gave me a kiss goodbye and I was taken in to the room to be prepped.  I can remember thinking how strange this all was.  I recall details of the room - thinking it was quite a bit smaller than the other room I had the twins in...how I didn't like having to listen to Lady Gaga on the loudspeaker (yes, I asked them to turn it off) and wondered if there was music being played when the others were born.  
I remember thinking the anesthesiologist was speaking so normally, almost boringly...I detected no hint of hurried panic in  his voice.  I spoke jovially with the nurses...about thier children or grandchildren...the weather...the flu season.  It was bizarre.
And then that all-too-familiar spinal block warmth spread down my legs and I was told to lay on my back.  Per normal, up went the privacy sheet and on came the warm blankets.  I felt nauseated so I was told to lay my head to the side.  The whole time I kept thinking how very strange this was.  Sure, I felt enormous, but was she ready to come out?  Was it finally the end of my last pregnancy?  Would it really be a girl...could we adjust?  Then Tim came in.  I felt better having him hold my hand.  I squeezed it tightly as they began the procedure.
Baby girl was more "stuck" than the boys were.  That feeling where "an elephant is sitting on your chest" (where one nurse basically pushes with all her strength to get the baby to pop out) - happened 3 times.  I remember thinking, whoa...this is a LOT of pressure.  I asked Tim if things were okay after awhile and was reassured yes, but I kept waiting for that cry.  To hear the life that I had felt for so long.  And then it happened.   She arrived.
I felt perturbed they didn't lift her over the sheet to let me see as normally they would, but scooped her away to get cleaned and assessed.  I looked at Tim - "is she a girl?"
He assured me she was "I triple checked....she's beautiful baby, absolutely beautiful."
And then I broke down.
It's an odd feeling to cry uncontrollably when everything in the world seems so wonderfully right.  No one was necessarily paying attention to me...well, the surgeons were nicely putting me back together, and the nurses were cleaning up and weighing my daughter, but I cried.
The tears of relief, of joy, of almost every emotion one could think of.  The last few months flashed through my brain...
And then they brought her over.  And I fell in love.  Again.
You know how with your husband it take a little while to feel that everlasting love?  Because you had to weigh the good vs the bad, right? :)  jk...
Well, it's never like that when they give your child to you, is it?
Because they are absolutely perfect.  The child is the most beautiful, special thing in the world and no one else could tell you otherwise.  And she was...and is.
I was told she weighed 7 lbs 2 oz.  My doctor guessed 6lbs 14oz just moments before she started my section - and wow, she was close!  I admit I figured she'd weigh significantly more than the others with having carried her full term, but she's my peanut.  A petite lil lady. ;)
I closed my eyes and zoned as they closed me up.  This part always seems the same - I lay, attempting to process what has happened while the surgeon and nurses talk about their kids or television shows, or who they think will win the super bowl.
....I think of how my life has changed.
When I'm all done in the OR, I head to recovery...waiting patiently while they brought my daughter to me.  Lady Neve was hungry and wasted no time or pleasantries - getting right to business.
So I just studied her as Tim and I discussed who we thought she looked like.  No one in particular - just bits and pieces of Tim and I - slightly resembling her bio brothers in part.  And I kept thanking God for the miracle she was...and how she came to be.
Before her birth we were told the new rules for visitors were limited to 2 people.  One being your husband... so really just 1 visitor.  This made me pretty sad because I had plans to allow all my good friends to come and hang out - where with the twins I had little to no visitors.  But, oh well.  Our stay just ended up a bit quieter than I had imagined.  Even Tim couldn't be there as much as he liked - having 4 children at home means we can't just leave them to fend for themselves - or take advantage of the care provided family or friends...so Daddy had to say goodbye around dinner time.
That first night was fine I guess - I mean, I was really anxious to get the IV out and the air puffers off my legs (they were making me insanely sweaty), but I suppose I slept relatively well...considering the nurses and various persons who came in and out of my room for this and that.  One nurse I had often came in to check if I was falling asleep holding Neve.  It was quite annoying really - I was wedged in with about 5 pillows and if I'm feeding her and want to close my eyes - please let me... But otherwise my caregivers were very nice.
Anticipating the previous C-section related pain I was beyond thrilled to feel such little pain in comparison.  I was up and about as soon as they let me - all systems were a-go...and I felt so much better than I had with previous recoveries - praise the Lord!
My two visitors consisted of Tim and my mom (who came around lunch time the next day).   When they weren't there, I just spent time napping, surfing the internet, eating or just hanging out with Neve. 
I decided to leave on Saturday morning even though insurance would have paid until Sunday...I felt pretty good physically and I missed my boys- especially the twins...I had never been away from them for more than 1 night.  We skyped some, but it wasn't the same as giving them kisses!

...Home life has been crazy.  The reunion was totally overwhelming for me having had been in the quiet for 3 days, but we're adjusting.
More on each son's initial and continued reaction to come.................

 I probably have about 100 pictures of her already, but I'll try to stick to the ones that are hospital related, as is this post:
 Mommy ready to go back! (I was probably asked many times if this was my first child - and it was funny EVERY time I watched people's reactions when I said, nope - 5th!) :)

 Are you ready for a daughter?!

 Meeting Lady Neve for the first time on the outside...

 Daddy's all set!

 The beauty is here.  She's a she. :)

 In recovery - burping after a feeding.

 In one of the headbands Mommy made!  (doesn't fit now only 3 weeks later!)

 There are 2 Nester girls now!!!  Hooray!

 Swaddled and clean after her bath.

A beauty queen.

 My husband has a new girlfriend.  ...but I don't blame him. We can share, Neve. :)

read at your own risk

when your day goes something like THIS:

wake up twice to sore back and try to fall back asleep only to be woken additionally by 2 different screaming children.
child #1 - needs his binky.
child #2 - screaming because the wrong blanket is in his crib (mean mother i am covered him up with a warmer one when he was asleep when i should clearly know he will ONLY go to bed with receiving blankets) - yeah, i wish i were joking
shower
dress
help get children freshly diapered/dressed
go to last OB appointment
pray/wish/fantasize she will check me and find that i am in labor
discover there has been no change in a weeks time
get disappointed to hear that my extremely swollen ankles dont really concern her (sure she's seen worse....)
go home
discover mouse turds in lazy susan
take out all food and pile it on already crowded counter top
say goodbye to daddy
attempt to crochet to relax away contractions (nothing seems to be coming of them anyway), while breaking up fights
direct cleanups
discover thad is alone
find him upstairs in master bathroom with a can of peanuts
take him downstairs
attempt to crotchet again, but feel guilty for not folding those 3 loads of laundry waiting for me downtairs
go down to fold
break up fights
direct cleanups
discover thad is alone
find him in the kitchen covered in baking cocoa
strip him and put him in a contained area
clean up mess
make lunch
clean up lunch
break up fights
direct cleanups
discover thad and sheppy are alone together
sheppy is reading, thad is messing with the comcast cable box and playing with the wii
attempt to seperate and redirect as i try to block off access
warm up bottles (don't judge me now....)
get megersa on potty and clean up lunch
discover thad has found said bottles and spilled one all over kitchen floor
put kids to bed
find crayon on the wall
scrub off what i can
paint over area with tiny bit of leftover paint
put movie on for cale (yet another few days off of school)
come in kitchen and try to will myself to eat before i collapse in exhaustion.........................................................................

then you need something like THIS for a laugh:
changing sheppy's diaper on the floor yesterday i wonder if i should discuss the difference between girls and boys (strictly inside the diaper)...
causally mention my thoughts to tim and get his approval to give the basics "boys and girls have different privates"
tell cale exactly that and that his sister wont look the same as him
hear this and die laughing:
"yeah, i know.....it looks like a line, right?"
 trying to contain my excitement for getting out of this anatomy and physiology lesson so easily, i give him a thumbs up and say: "YEP!"

a little bit too stinky

Yeah...that's right.
This blog post is gonna be about poop.
No...the twins aren't potty trained.

I write because my brain can only handle so much information, and sometimes it's annoying to realize so much of that space is being taken up by the daily poop routines around here!! ;)
Sure every adult human takes care of their own "business"...but is that an accomplishment?
Hardly.
Fact is, I happen to have an extensive knowledge of not only everyone's poop preferences - but their timing and peculiarities about it.

For instance:
The twins ALWAYS go in the morning.  Tim and I hope it's in their diaper when we get them out of the crib...for the sole purpose of saving money on diapers and to change 2 less later.  Sometimes they even go again before nap. 
But it's a one poop minimum before nap-time approaches.
If they don't reach their goal then they'll stay in their cribs awake until they go...and if that happens they usually don't go to sleep.
 More often than not, we'll have another dirty diaper change during the afternoon/evening...but we don't look out for it as much as that first morning BM.
Thad can go for what seems like an eternity with a dump in his pants (couldn't be bothered to be changed), then all the sudden start freaking out and running at me screaming "Mommy! MOMMY" as he tries to climb in my lap (presumably so I can smell the offense).  Apparently when he's had enough, he's had enough.  Or when he's ready, he's ready...whichever saying you prefer.
Sheppy has just recently started sharing with us when he poops.   Instead of telling us before, or accurately for that matter - he'll poo, then come over to us...point at his butt and say "pee-pee."
It's a step in the right direction, and pretty funny to boot.
Has me thinking he'll be easier to potty train when WE'RE ready for that challenge.......... ;)

Since Cale takes care of wiping himself, I'm not totally aware of his "schedule" - except for when he makes his loud announcements - waiting until the last minute...then comes running out of nowhere, holding his bottom screaming "I GOTTA GO POOPY REAL BAD!!"
Cale hates an audience, but always ends up leaving the door open.  He starts getting all crazy about anyone looking at him...
Problem could be easily solved: SHUT. THE. DOOR!
Come on, it's an unpleasant sight no matter who's on the throne, am I right?

Megersa loves company. When we were first training him,  he and Cale would have poop-parties, which I'm certain he enjoyed.  He welcomes people into the bathroom with him..."Mommy!  Sheppy came in to talk to me!  Thad wants to read this book with me..." and taking time to have deep discussions with Cale about which one of them loves sea creatures more. 
M always goes in the morning, and often time directly before or after nap.  He usually goes twice a day.  No...he doesn't wipe himself yet.  ....Oh he'll TRY...but we certainly don't let him out until we approve (it's in the near future, right??  *sigh*).
Megersa loves to play while he's on the potty.  He smuggles toys and books in the bathroom and makes up his own scenarios for his motorcycles or "reads" his books out loud.  For a period of time there he would start singing when he was actually going.
Unfortunately now he's getting a little more vivid about his descriptions -heard this one tonight:
"Mommy, all my poop isn't coming out at once.  I squeezed it - I tried to get it out, but it won't come!" 
Lovely, no?

Lastly, I happen to know when the adults in this family go...because in addition to my own schedule, it almost needs to be something planned.  We need to clock in and out of parenting before we take a "time-out" for ourselves. Tim would request his plea for a bathroom break to me and I once said "hey - you don't need to tell me when you have to go - just go."  - but the more mischievous kids we have who seize any unsupervised opportunity, the more detail-oriented our lives become.
"Yes darling, you may take the next 5-15 minutes in the bathroom alone to do what normal people don't think twice about doing...thank you for holding it until they are in their high chairs for lunch."
;)

AND...there ya go.
Are we ready to learn and experience yet another person's poop routine/needs I wonder?
I certainly hope so...because if not, we're gonna be one of those families with at least one very stinky kid.

the middle hours of the day

For the most part, the littles seem to welcome nap time.
Which I really appreciate....
When Cale's not in school his "quiet time" is usually not very quiet (unless he's engrossed in a movie), but that's not what we're talking about here...

Strictly before nap is lunchtime and that is usually a whirlwind of trying to get enough food on my kids plates (the twins dont eat much breakfast for whatever reason, so by 11:30 they are cranky and apparently "starved")... It is by far the most quickly eaten meal, so I'm in always a rush to get enough food, but not too much before they start throwing their sippy cups and trying to wiggle out of their highchairs.  Long ago, I stopped trying to eat when they eat, because it's pretty much useless...by the time I get their food on their trays and go back to make my own, they're done and want OUT!
I should really time the process...from when they climb in their chairs to when they are out.  I swear it's gotta be about 15 minutes MAX (for the twins I mean...Megersa could sit in his chair all day)!!
So, then it's the prep for bed.  Wiping hands/faces...brushing teeth, getting milk ready...having M poop on the potty...new diapers, finding favorite blankets, binkies and "babies"........  Its like a marathon running up and down the steps with each child.  But I get giddy with excitement when I close those doors.  As I take my final walk down the steps I usually breathe a sigh of relief out loud.
And when I sit down to eat my lunch Neve kicks me, to let me know that I've woken her by sitting and also to make sure I'm not completely "alone" in my silence. ;)
When I'm full I usually do a few things...pick up around the house, maybe switch out a load of laundry or run the dishwasher...but then the anticipation sets in, as I march up the steps in hopes to find sleeping children. Most days the kids fall asleep without a problem, but there are some days where one of them can't seem to settle and I need to reinforce my position on nap time.
"Lay down.  No talking.  Close your eyes."  ...That's a stressor.  I know they need sleep, but they fight it.  I can't imagine why...
There are a few days that I don't nap myself, but those days are rare...  Because even if I get lost in a show I haven't watched on Hulu, or my creative side pulls me in to a project, after about an hour at most I feel wiped.  Pregnancy and care of young children will do that to ya I guess.
On the good days that no one makes a peep and I creep in their room to take a closer look. I'm always overcome with love.  ((When they're already asleep I mean.... ;)) 
So peaceful, so beautiful, so darling!!
Honestly, sometimes I wanna just scoop each one of them up and smooch on them...but I dare not.
Shepherd might be okay with some petting, because he is the one who required the most hands-on soothing in the past.  Thad will let me play with his hair a little bit, but he usually can tell right away if I come in and will open his eyes or try to get up to see what's going on, so I usually just peek in on him.  And Megersa??  I must be careful not to walk on the wrong floorboards in case they creak and wake him up!
...Even on sleeping days I get anxious wondering when the silence will break.  Sometimes it hinders my own ability to fall asleep.  "What was that noise?  Is he awake?  I wonder if I should go check on them again..."
If I do fall asleep, I usually feel refreshed (once I can pull myself out of bed), but on days like yesterday where I woke up, looked at the clock to read 2:30p then fell right back to sleep until after 3p - I feel totally zonked.  I stumbled out of bed and realize at least one, if not 2 or 3 of them are already awake and starting to get irritated. 
And with the flick of a switch, round 3 begins. 

mischief managed

Okay, so here's the story.  This past Saturday I had meant to take Sheppy to the Urgent Care to get his eyes checked.  Turns out they close really early, so we decided on Sunday after naptime.  That left Tim to take the other 3 with him back to church in the evening and do what he needs to do with the teens.  So, Shep and I went and came back.  

He's got pink-eye in both eyes...and it's simply miserable.  Poor little buddy.  

At any rate, I figured a little Blues Clues would cheer him up.

All my boys like to sit on the coffee table and watch the show.  So, he climbed up there and was quiet as a mouse.

I sat in the kitchen cleaning up, making dinner...or doing something.

....too quiet.

I come in to find Sheppy playing with Vaseline.

Of course as any good parent would, I decided that getting the camera out to video him surely takes prescidence over cleaning him up...

cale's friends

With a school-aged child, we've been getting a lot of new friend's around the house.
Various shapes and sizes...they all go by the same name: germs.

First it was the flu - which caught hold of 1/2 our family.
Tim, Cale & Shepherd.


That was rough, but thankfully it didn't last too long...
Then he brought home "the cold that never ends" - that was about several weeks ago, and seriously, I think Tim got it the longest.  What a pain!
Those germs took out 5 out of the 6 of us.
Megersa ended up missing both!  That kid has a hearty immune system!

Now we've got pink eye.

 Currently the twins have it - and man it looks painful.  You know when your eyes start to water just looking at someone else's?  Oh, yeah, I got that.
So far the adults have been spared.  Megersa had it last week for a day or two, and I feel like Cale had it awhile back....but I can't remember exactly.

It's craziness around here.
Tim and I are battling colds now, but thankfully our eyes are still the right color...

Who knows what else the flu season will bring....hopefully just snow. :)

school status update

Like most of my posts - this one had been started prior to today.
I sometimes like to at least get the title of the post going so that I know what I've been meaning to write about. 
The intention was just to brag on how much Cale has grown in the past few weeks and months, and to state the fun little things he's been learning or doing in relation to school.
...but yesterday that bliss came to a halt.

My son stepped off the bus with a grin from ear to ear.
He was a "Star Student"...and was rewarded with a sticker.
There was no fear in his eyes or uncontrollable crying stating how he'd never wanna ever go back to his school.
His world is a bubble, and I am thankful that his 5-year-old mind does not need to question right now the depravity of man.
But we do. 
And I'm sure all of the parents everywhere but Connecticut awaited their school children with anxious breath, eager to wrap them in a giant hug as they stepped off the bus.

When I read that mainly Kindergarteners...babies like my Cale, were amongst the large number of the dead I could barely breathe.
Even today I can only allow myself to think of this tragedy in tiny little bursts...because my fellas at home need a functioning mother, not one who cannot stop weeping.
But the littles are all down for naps now, and Cale is plugged in to a Christmas movie.
So my brain is free, and my heart is heavy.

The weight of the sin of the world comes crashing in....
God is good.  He orchestrates all things in our lives - do not forget that.
...But he DOES NOT cause us to sin.
Sin is human.
This shooter was human...and in my opinion one of the worst kinds of humans.

I started to form this post in my head while my older sons were playing "bad guys."  No specific persons in mind, just "people who are bad...do bad things."  ...I heard them saying how they will kill these bad guys.  So I took the opportunity to teach them.  We talked...and as simple as I kept it for them to understand that Jesus commands us in the Bible "Do Not Kill'"....I couldn't help but say it without a bitter taste in my mouth.
If it had been MY son at his school......I'm sure I wouldn't be thinking rationally. 
But we need to teach our children that God can redeem any person.
...even a bad guy.  Even someone who kills.
Because God loves them...  He even loved that killer and is even more devastated than we are by this.

This horrific event doesn't make me question God...though I can understand those who do.
Above all it makes me thank God that it wasn't my child.  That it could have just as easily happened to Yellow Springs Elementary and it COULD have been my son.  But I praise God it wasn't.  I get on my knees and plead even harder for the safety of my children.  I try to swallow the lump in my throat and lift up the families of the lost.  I force myself to look at the faces of the people in the pictures...urge myself to live in this world and feel its ache.
I will not pretend my world is full of marshmallows today.

I think we need to talk about it.  To rally around the idea that even at Christmas, this world is fallen.  To take into reality our lives and how fragile they are. To live a life as fully devoted followers of God.  To BRING God into these conversations and defend Him.  To wake up...  To stop complaining about everything that doesn't go our way and to hold tight to the most precious of all gifts - life.
God's life he's given us...but more importantly the lives he's entrusted to us.
Because ultimately, they are His.

God is in control.  But people are lost.  Their sin...our sin pollutes everything.
From a solitary thought that goes astray...to the actions that lead to death.
There is always a progression...but God did NOT cause that.

I don't know how I feel about telling Cale what happened...it's too real to his 5-year-old life. 
I'm not sure he could wrap his head around it today...or tomorrow...or even this year.
His heart is the most fragile of my children it seems his fears take over him.
I think we'll wait.

But even for that I am grateful...that we have that opportunity to shield our children's minds from this world.

Thank you God for sparing my child...I pray these families experience the "peace that passes all understanding."
And I pray unashamed...selfishly...desperately that in this lifetime I will never have to bury one of my children.