Christmas Cookies

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Christmas cookie baking with daddy!

This evening was kind of a hot mess. Simon wanted to crawl up on the counters and destroy everything, Planning Porter was frantic about things not going according to schedule, the dough had to be refrigerated overnight, we couldn't use the cookie cutters, blah blah blah.

But Hallmark Christmas movies were on in the background, and you guys all miraculously posed for this little gem... and I was lucky enough to capture it. Such a fun night with my boys!

Porter Alan, You're Almost 4 Years Old!

My big almost-4-year old.

You're my favorite little human. You recently got a taste of Sprite, and now you're obsessed. We told you you can only indulge on the weekends, but the other night we were out of apple juice, so I let you have a can... and I jokingly told you not to tell daddy. He walked in the other night, and you said: "Daddy, I'm not supposed to tell you something." COOL. Looks like I can't confide in you, ever ;)

You have a heart of gold, Porter, and I'm so thankful for your sweet disposition and your attention to detail. You pick up on my moods, and you are so aware of your environment. 

Getting you to eat lately is a chore. You pretty much only like pasta and waffles. This dinner, above, you did pretty well - garlic-soaked baked chicken and "funeral potatoes". I even got you to eat one brussel sprout, which is a total win.

See those shoes? You've been aching to fit into them for years. They were handed down from your buddy Kyan, and you're had them in your room, sitting on your shelf, since that very day. Big boy shoes, to go with your big boy hair.

Lately, your favorite things:

working outside with daddy
collecting rocks
your ipad ("minecrack" and other random games your cousins show you. Goat Simulator... wha?)
short sleeved shirts (it's a battle to get you bundled up for winter)
teenaged mutant ninja turtles
your blankie, thank God
worship music
class at church / rehearsal at church
Amelia (you say you're going to marry her, work at the fair, and your first dance will be "Jesus, we love you")
Polar Express

Things you're not a fan of, lately:

Simon (I'm waiting for you two to finally realize you're best friends)
being patient
eating anything remotely healthy
going to bed
mom and dad picking you up from aunties, lol


Friday, November 4, 2016

As I was getting settled into my room, waiting for my D&C, the nurse popped in and proclaimed: "hi! Are you the lucky one today?"

I was confused. Surely she'd read my chart and knew why I was here. I gave her grace, though. I imagine it's tough to know what to say in times like these. Maybe she just wanted to make me feel like she cared, and I was lucky because she was going to take good care of me?

I got undressed, and into the hospital bed. Paul was nervously seated next tome, watching my face for any sign of distress or discomfort. I knew he was so worried about me. I loved him even more in those moments.

The nurse's assistant came in, and the nurse left to grab something. The assistant took my temp, and started to place the cuff to take my blood pressure. As the machine whirred and he cuff began to tighten, my nurse poked her head back in the room.

"Hey! ...any chance you could be pregnant?"

The silence was deafening. Is this a sick joke? I stared at her, processing. "What?"

"Pregnant." She smiled. "Could you be pregnant?"

My stare turned to utter disgust. "Yes. I am pregnant. My baby is dead. Do you have any other questions? I'm here for a D&C because I'm pregnant and my baby is dead."

Then I broke down in tears. Paul demanded to know if this was a normal question to ask, because the nurse was busy assuring him that it was, and that "people have D&Cs for lots of reasons". She apologized, but it was a backhanded apology: "I'm sorry I made you cry, but it's a normal question to ask."

A note to those in the medical field: maybe assume that anyone having a D&C might be there under extraordinarily sad circumstances, and do them a favor and check their file before you find it necessary to ask if they might be pregnant. I know hospitals that put a rose sticker on the charts of all moms that experience loss during delivery, to indicate that there is no baby in the room. Of all the ups and downs of this experience, that was the hardest moment of all... aside from my doctor searching and searching for the heartbeat that wasn't there.

After I shared this with my women's group, many other mothers shared they had the same question before their D&C. A question that unnerved them, and re-broke their fragile hearts. I know it's probably pointless, but I'm going to pursue a complaint and find out if this truly is the norm. If it is, it's absolutely not ok.

Our Miscarriage

At our baby appointment today, we weren't able to find a heartbeat. An immediate ultrasound confirmed that we lost our third baby, probably at around 11 or 12 weeks.

It feels so weird to say "lost", like I don't know where it is anymore. My body hasn't realized anything is wrong, so we will be figuring out the next steps here in the next few days. We would appreciate your prayers a lot during this time.

God is so good, and I feel a sense of peace and protection that I didn't expect to feel with news like this. I'm confident that this has happened for a reason greater and bigger than I can even comprehend, so I'll wait patiently to understand what that is in it's entirety and continue to see it through.


Sometimes God creeps me out in a good way. I literally have said, over the last 12 hours, that I feel like THIS is the entire purpose of this journey we're walking together. To give me understanding. Experience. To help me connect and support other women who will face this, in ways I couldn't before.

"If you are going to be used by God, He will take you through a number of experiences that are not meant for you personally at all. They are designed to make you useful in His hands, and to enable you to understand what takes place in the lives of others."

Simon's Eyes - June 2016

Friday, June 10, 2016

Simon had a great eye exam! For those of you that don't know, he has congenital nystagmus and we thought for a time he could possibly have a more serious disease OR was blind. Neither of those are the case, praise the Lord.

We love Dr. Shelley. He always takes his time to talk to us about Simon's vision, and explain best and worst case scenario. He's so kind and wise! I always leave appts feeling prepared to take on the world with a son who is very likely visually impaired.

We totally got this. Like Dr. Shelley said today, just because he can see a cheerio on the floor across the room doesn't mean he isn't visually impaired. Think about the smallest thing we can see... A speck of dust in a sunbeam, for example? There is a good chance Simon can't see that.

Those words could have been heavy, but for me, they weren't. My baby can see. He can see my face, he can see sunshine and green grass and the waves of the ocean. I remember begging that of God just one year ago.

I'm ok that he can't see dust particles. ;) It's a good compromise.

Mommy, You're Beautiful.

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

We have an appraiser coming by the house today, so in an effort to look like I'm not living out of boxes and totally overwhelmed with life, I put on makeup and a clean pair of yoga pants. I threw on some makeup, brushed my hair, and re-knotted it in a low ponytail. I felt nice and fresh, but Porter, you took it to a new level.

Sitting in our new living room, watching The Good Dinosaur and playing with your play-doh, you glance over, look me up and down and tell me (like you do almost daily): "Mommy, you're so beautiful."

It always takes my breath away, and I want to let you know how much I appreciate your observant little gestures of love. So, I smile at you, usually clasp my hands over my heart and sigh dramatically (because that's how I feel about your words) and say: "Oh my gosh, thank you so much Porter. Mommy loves when you say that."

You replied again, today: "You are. And you were beautiful last night. And you're beautiful today."

Seriously? You're THREE years old, and I can already tell what a remarkable man you're going to be. Keep complimenting the women you love - your cousins, your aunties, your grandmas, your MAMA... it's something that means so much to us, and you'll never understand how much more beautiful you make us feel when you do.

Porterisms: Jesus In His Heart

Monday, December 28, 2015

Last night, when Porter and I were rocking (unsuccessfully - it was a long night) before bed, we were singing Jesus Loves Me, and I said: "did you know Jesus lives in your heart?"

Well, I hadn't noticed that Porter had the hiccups, and he asked where his heart was. I went about trying to help him feel his heartbeat - and he found it, pretty amazed. Except for the next time he hiccuped. It was a particularly violent one, and he looked at me terrified and said "Mommy, I think Jesus is trying to get out!"