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Six Dollar Car Wash and Shattered Glass

If you’ve ever wondered how many times you’re allowed to go through a carwash on one $6 purchase, the answer is at least four.  On Monday morning I drove the kids to school in my dad’s car.  So thankful we are able to borrow it while he and my mom are in Africa right now.  On Friday we had a glass shattering accident with Silver Belle (our van) which has left us without a vehicle.  More on that later. I can only fit 4 kids at a time in the car, so there is always a shuffling around to make it work.  After I dropped the older two off at school, I swung back home to pick up the middle crew since Jack had a dentist appointment.  Shortly after we arrived, some dear sweet friends we haven’t seen in much too long, started piling into the waiting room with us.  My entire weekend had been pretty shaken up with the accident and I was battling some discouraging thoughts.  You know how after being with certain friends for even five minutes changes your entire outlook on life?  That’s how this mama is to me.  You should check out her journey.  Between the two of us, we have 15 children.  We left the dentist office blessed and refreshed.  She even scheduled her follow up visit to match our follow up visit so we can hang out again in the waiting room together again in a few weeks.  Yeah.  She rocks!

From there, we headed over to the carwash, because my dad’s car needed a bath.  Plus, it’s fun.  We paid $6 for the express wash then drove into the tunnel, paying close attention to the traffic light telling me to “enter slowly”.  I drove ahead until it said “STOP”.  Then it told me to drive forward again.  Stop.  Drive forward.  Stop.  Then it started and soap sprayed all over the car, but the brushes only barely touched the back bumper.  A few seconds later, the light told me to exit slowly.  Say what?  I parked the rather soapy car in front of the gas station and stated my problem to the owners.  A very Italian man smiled and coached me on the skills of carwash etiquette, because how I described what happened must have sounded like I truly had never gone through a carwash before.  He walked out with me and told me to drive through again.  He gave me instructions on what each hand motion he would make, meant, and we tried again.  He stood at the end of the tunnel, like an air traffic controller about to land a jumbo jet.  Except he added another hand motion we didn’t go over in our briefing: “put the car in park”.  It looked a whole lot like “Back Up”, so I did.  Slowly, of course.  The loud “exit slowly” buzzer came on.  He shook his head and motioned for me to circle around again.  He typed another pass into the little computer thing while I drove to the entrance.  The second attempt was better.  Not correct, but better.  Something happened which forced me to circle yet again.  He certainly must have thought I was fresh out of drivers ed.  Or carwash ed.  This time we had all the details worked out and I was dying of laughter.  He put on his traffic controller hat again, and this time it worked.  Harry only cried a little as the gigantic brushes scrubbed Grandpa’s little red car, which is now sparkling again.

After the carwash, I had to run to the police station to pick up the police report from the accident.  Last Friday, we were two blocks from home, driving to school.  I maneuvered down the narrow city street, noticing someone was double parked on my left.  As I navigated between his car and the other cars parallel parked, a woman to my right opened her car door as I was passing her.  The crunch was loud and sickening.  Her door was stuck in the sliding door window of our van, and the entire window shattered into a spider web.
2017-08-25 08.10.56Thankfully no one was hurt, but I did start to cry.  The second day of school, and we would be late.  The van was a mess.  To make matters worse, the party involved refused to take responsibility and mouthed off to the police officers.  It wasn’t a pleasant experience.  Now the insurance companies have to figure out what really happened since it is now word against word.  At the police station, I obtained the report no problem.  Harry was totally enamored with the receptionist.  He is usually serious towards strangers, but something about her sweet face turned him into a sunbeam!  It was darling.  I think we will need to go back just to say hello.

Much happened during those first 3 hours on Monday.  Tuesday found us at the eye doctor.  Jack and Elsie both need new glasses.  More dentist appointments and doctor appointments coming up too.  Then we’re all caught up on WELL visits for at least 6 months.  ALL THE PRAISE HANDS!  Matthew still has regular checkups to keep tabs on what’s going on in his unique, anatomically incorrect sinuses.

Nadine and Elijah absolutely love school.  We had our first parent/teacher back to school night last night and got to meet each teacher and hear how God is blessing them there.  So thankful for the input of others into their lives.

Our other three students begin school next month here at home.  Harry blends into the mix in his own sweet way.  As Betty said while she helped me at the store yesterday: “You are just such a precious child!”  Yes, yes he is.

No dentists, doctors or grocery stores in the mix for today, but there is plenty of laundry to do.  I’m going to pretend my laundry detergent is like the widow’s oil which didn’t run out until she didn’t need it any more.  Because it looks like there is only one more load’s worth left in the container, but I have a few more loads to do than that.  And as trivial and trite a need that is (because I know the detergent I ordered is on its way soon, and hey… I’m cool not doing laundry for a few days) we do have a true and real need right now.  Matthew needs a work truck by this weekend, so we pray and look and wait and anticipate that answer to prayer!  And maybe we’ll celebrate its arrival by… a carwash or three!

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Scars That Change Us

Last night everything felt off.  A deep sadness overwhelmed me.  I couldn’t even explain the tears that welled up while I sat on the front porch, with my feet propped up on Matthew’s lap, my hand in his.  The day had not been a bad one.  It found me outside, staring into my empty cereal box, like the rest of America, to see as much of the solar eclipse as we were granted.  A 73% eclipse isn’t too bad, actually.  The crickets started chirping and the atmosphere got a bit cooler and almost orange, like when a thunderstorm is rolling through but it’s still sunny outside.  Harry busily put tiny rocks into his mouth and then spit them out every time I made a “blah” sound.2017-08-21 14.22.29

Yet I couldn’t shake this feeling.

Then this morning I woke up to a precious text from one of my best friends, reminding me what had happened four years ago.  When I had called her in the middle of the night to pray.  When I stared at the dark, stormy ocean I thought for sure would swallow life that night.  I clung to my Bible that night, tears wrinkling the pages of the Psalms I read, while I stared at Matthew in the hospital bed.  He was very still, struggling to breath, but the amount of steroids they gave him over the course of the night and into the morning saved his life, and he emerged smiling, yet with very little voice.  Subglottic stenosis.  His airway was but a pinhole the night before, which has altered his voice ever since.  Scars do that.  They change us.

Then another precious text from another dear friend.  She reminded me that it’s okay to both grieve and rejoice.  To lay my grief at one altar and my thanksgiving at another.  Thanksgiving, so I never become bitter, and grief, so I never make an idol out of the blessing and gifts God has given.  So, even though it’s been four years, I do touch that scar and let the tears flow a bit.  Feeling the gift that it is, because it is a rich reminder of His Presence which always goes before us.  He gathers our tears in a bottle, and knows which ones are from grief and which ones are from thankfulness.  Bless the Lord O my soul and forget not all His benefits. Who forgives all your iniquities, Who heals all your diseases!

I asked Matthew how he feels today, and he simply said: “I feel amazed.”  He is playing soccer tonight and preaching the gospel!  There’s a WHOLE lot of thanksgiving about that!

Yesterday marked another momentous occasion as well.  Matthew officially began working for himself again.  Weldon Carpentry is back in business, and we are both excited for this new chapter.  We are praying for a work truck for him, so if anyone has any leads, we’re all ears!  We’re excited to see how God will provide!

Well, tomorrow is the first day of highschool for Nadine and Elijah.  We have an incredibly early start, and I’m a bundle of nerves for them.  I sense a whole lot of growth in the upcoming months.  As I have pondered the past 9 months, our family has experienced six huge NEW changes.  Yet nothing surprises the One who orchestrates the perfect alignment of the earth, moon, and sun.  Nothing is beyond His ability.  Nothing is impossible.  From solar eclipses to subglottic scars to unbelievable struggles which leave invisible marks… He is aware of it all and cares so very much about me and you.


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Sometimes I’m Not Okay… and That’s Ok

Sometimes Friday comes around, and when Matthew gets home from work, we shake hands and introduce ourselves.  Does this ever happen to any other married couples?  It only takes a few days of work and collapsing into bed each night before the distance between our hearts starts to grow.  When we were dating, we could talk for hours on the phone.  Back then, we had to wait until 7 o’clock in the evening, when the “long distance” between Coatesville and Philadelphia was less expensive.  Yup.  When the time on the phone with him got excessive, my dad would highlight my conversations on our phone bill and I’d have to pay him back.   It was always worth it.  And it’s still worth the lack of sleep, to sit on the front porch to refill our emotional cups and reconnect again.  To get past the handshake stage and dig deeper.  If we only ever give each other the dregs of our day, this will eventually make us forget what it’s like to really know the other person.  Dregs are not as delicious or fulfilling as the freshly made batch of coffee or tea, or some freshly squeezed orange juice.  Allow your spouse more than just your dregs.

It’s been a tough couple of months for us.  I’ve actually been avoiding this blog.  Because I WANT everything to be okay.  I hate fake, so as to avoid writing truth, I don’t write anything at all.  But it’s been 11 doctor visits in 4 months and I completely broke down yesterday.  After our initial positive visit with Matthew’s specialist, things went slowly downhill.  He started to lose his voice and has had some sinus infections which have been incredibly persistent in nature.  Long story short, we are almost at a turning point.  Yesterday he had a biopsy taken of his sinus tissue to see if it is indeed Wegener’s flaring up again (bloodwork was iffy and inconclusive) or just a really bad infection.  Given the permanently scarred and damaged sinus cavity he has, from twelve years of surgeries and disease-damaged tissue, we know things will never be “normal” again.  It makes figuring out if a “stuffy nose” is something which warrants buying a box of tissues, or getting a round of blood work done.  I should call it LWW.  Life with Wegeners.  Remission is so fun, because this stupid disease is not the first thing people chatter to us about when they see us.  It’s awesome to feel “normal” and not like you’re wearing a t-shirt that says, “ask me how I’m feeling.”  Don’t get me wrong, we totally appreciate people’s concern for us, and how Matthew’s feeling.  But it’s so exhausting to be sick.  It’s lonely too, because you want to act like nothing is wrong, all while fighting something that is very wrong.  So I’ve somewhat angrily been avoiding this topic, because I’m so over it.  Wegeners took a back seat for two beautiful years.  It is never welcome, in my book.  Which is exactly why I’m not the one writing the story.

Someone close to us recently asked me how I was doing with Matthew being sick.  It kind of threw me for a bit, because I realized I’m not really okay.  I want to kick and scream and order a large pizza.  I’m jealous of people who can eat whatever they want and get a stinkin’ cold without worrying about it turning south.  I’m jealous of people who don’t have doctor visits flooding their calendar and drying up their bank accounts.  Then all of a sudden, I realize where I’ve gone wrong.  My eyes have completely turned from Jesus to the waves.  Like Peter, I’m sinking.  It’s not the first time.  These churning waves and I have met before.  They’re scary and ugly and as my focus turns to their depths, my faith gets lost in their darkness.

So our late night porch talk covered a lot of this, and Jesus has reminded me again of His faithfulness.  He hasn’t moved.  It’s okay to be weak, because then He is strong.  And believe me, we’re not weak in the sense of giving up.  That phrase doesn’t belong in our vocabulary: Give up.  We’re weak in our OWN strength to get through what this storm-filled life throws our way.  Our hope is built on nothing less than Jesus.

When you pray for us, pray for our faith to be strengthened.  For Jesus to be glorified.  For us to be bold.  No fishy handshakes or wimpy hugs and sighs.  He has not given us a spirit of fear, but of love, power and a sound mind!  Look us in the eye and remind us not to give up.  To rest, not quit.  You can ask God for healing if you want, but more importantly, please pray for our eyes to stay focused on Jesus, and our marriage to grow even deeper in love and grace.  We already know a day is coming very soon where we will be completely healed.

Now I need to go and enjoy a fresh cup of tea with my love.  It’s Saturday, and we have two full days together, and I still haven’t run out of things to talk about with him.  And there’s no long distance bill to worry about anymore.

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Better Than a Box of Chocolates

Why are some days so hard?  This question was texted to me from the other room.  I sat upstairs feeding Harry, while a raucous crew finished their supper.  For various reasons, we both had an uphill day.  I woke up with the urge and desire to make our bedroom look cute and tidy.  But all I managed to do today in my room was eat chocolate.  Because even though the incredible supplements we use have taken away my cravings for donuts, candy, just about every cereal, and most things found in the center aisles of the grocery store… chocolate is still okay in my book.  In fact, today I did something I’ve always wanted to do.  A rather nicely sized box of mixed chocolates came into my possession this week, and I took a bite out of every single one.  Just to see what was inside it.  None of this dainty and mysterious picking out of what you really hope isn’t orange-cream-filled chocolate or weird chocolate liquor.  (At least that’s not my favorite.  Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.)  I bit into each one, leaving a tooth-marked morsel in its place.  It looks like an animal sniffed out and sampled the box of crack.  I mean chocolate.  Nope.  Just a mama of six who may have had one or more things overwhelm her slightly sleep-deprived mind.  I claim with Anne of Green Gables: “Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it.  Yet.”

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Betty decided today was a great day to pull out all of the summer clothes and try them on for size.  I suppose I forgot to mention where we are heading in twenty days.  Our entire family will be boarding a plane and flying to Roatan, Honduras!  2017-01-25-19-24-25-1It has been our dream to return, since Matthew and I lived there for six months when Nadine and Elijah were babies.  Now, thirteen years later, we are.

It’s hard to imagine Caribbean temperatures and bathing suits as I sit wrapped in my scarf, clutching yet another hot drink.  2017-02-01-18-11-07-1As Betty squealed with excitement over her shorts still fitting her, it slowly started to sink in today.  The last time we traveled outside of the country was to Belize, when Jack was Harry’s age.  I guess I should start thinking about fitting into my bathing suit.  Stupid chocolates.

So why are some days so hard?  I don’t have a solid answer, but my reply was: So we will long a bit more for Heaven.  Because as awesome and beautiful as our life is here, it’s covered in pain and sickness and brokenness and imperfection.  If you don’t know where you’re going when you die, this is as good as it gets.  But if you have peace in the finished work of Christ, then the best is yet to come!  Better than a box of chocolates.  With no mistakes in it.  Ever and for eternity.  Come, Lord Jesus.


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This is Not a Normal Life

“This is NOT a normal life!” she exclaimed from the back seat.  I glanced back at the stop sign to see what she was doing.  She had a small notebook and pencil.  Her legs were crossed, the tips of her fuzzy boots sticking up almost to her knees.  “This is NOT a normal life.”  She was playing MASH. With herself.  I laughed out loud while Betty told me how she was living in a mansion with THREE children and driving a Ford.  Oh, and she was married to Toby Mac.  When something is interesting or exciting for her and she wants me to listen she will say, “Hear this!”  Such a herald.  She is doing fabulously in school, reading sentences like, “The path led to the shed.”  She recently celebrated her 6th birthday.

Elsie is a great teacher and when she’s not DOING school, she is PLAYING school.  She has a vim and vigor for life.  A shaker and a mover.  Literally.  The other day she and Betty rearranged their room.  A girl after her mama’s own heart.  She is our pancake-maker, and does a fine job of it!

Jack is back into wrestling season full swing.  When he’s not wrestling, he is doing pushups.  Hundreds of pushups.  I’m excited when I do 30 in one day.  He’s not satisfied until he does 300.  We also recently discovered a Ninja Warrior gym not too far from us.  He conquered the warped wall the first day there, and loves to challenge himself with the other obstacles.

Elijah is my right-hand man in the kitchen.  We can throw together supper in less than half an hour.  I love teaching him stuff in the kitchen.  He gets my style of cooking, which doesn’t lean on recipes as much as a hunch on how different flavors will work together.  Having an instant pot has made dinner prep SO easy.  He is a geometry whiz, and we are looking in to some sort of coding class, as he is bent in this direction.  Sometimes he explains things to me and I have no clue what he’s talking about.  He’s also doing daily pushups and slowly inching closer to my height.

Nadine is our baby-whisperer.  Harry and her have a special bond.  She is convinced he can say her name, and it does sound pretty close.  I honestly don’t know how I could manage this house without her.

Harry adds the most perfect element of sweetness, joy and delight to our home.  When he starts to talk, everyone comes running.  He smiles and the sun comes out.  He is two months old already!  He is the king of expressions, and makes so many faces.  2017-01-12-10-21-55-2We’re slowly getting onto a sleeping schedule.

Though we often pass like ships in the night (literally), Matthew is my biggest support.  Between coaching, working, and being an amazing dad to these six… 2017-01-09-19-12-48
He is also the one whom my soul loves.  2017-01-21-15-35-34-1
It’s not hard to love him, but sometimes lack of sleep and the demands of being needed by 6 people can sometimes push me over the edge.  He is so patient with me.  It’s not tear-free, anger-free, frustration-free or hardship-free.  But it is full of joy, forgiveness, humor, and faith.  Had we been thrown the life we are living now, I might have also exclaimed: “This is NOT a normal life!”  But it’s the perfect life for me.
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Harry’s Birth Story

The week before he arrived was a big one for our family.  Right before we found out we were pregnant, we had started the ball rolling on buying the home we have been living in for the past 6 years.  Little did we know how closely it would coincide with the birth of our 6th child!  So many huge changes, all within a week’s time.  Even though I was anxious to have this sweet baby, I was glad he decided not to come on the day we closed on the house.

Not a huge fan of due dates, I surprised myself about how disappointed I was when the 17th came and went with nary a contraction on the day.  His sweet little bed sat empty.  And we waited.2016-11-14-10-02-36
I decided to tackle “small” projects, like painting the kitchen white.  On Friday, I had some feelings of things starting to happen, so we got the kids squared away for a weekend at Grandma’s.  Matthew and I went down to the city and walked a LOT.  We got my engagement ring cleaned along jewelers row in Philly, and somehow knew it was the last date before baby was born.  Saturday and Sunday came and went and I was a heap of emotions on Monday when things still hadn’t started.

But then my water broke Monday morning.  I went the entire day without any contractions, but that night headed over to the birth center with Matthew to make sure baby was fine, since it had been 12 hours.  Chip was strong, there were no signs of distress or infection, so they gave me another 24 hours to see if labor would start.  I headed home with pretty strong contractions after she stripped my membranes, and my body was showing plenty of signs of being ready to start labor.  In hand, was a little brown bag with castor oil in it. If labor wasn’t in full swing by morning, I was going to give that a go.  Having never done any kind of induction, natural or not, I was really nervous.  But I was even more nervous about arriving at 36 hours of having my water broken with no signs of labor.  I slept uncomfortably, but woke up NOT in labor.  With a big sigh, I cracked open my paper bag and chugged the first dose of castor oil.  It is actually tasteless, and mixed in a little juice, went down the hatch pretty easily.  A couple of hours later, I took the second and final dose.  My stomach was already starting to protest.  The idea behind castor oil is that you will have enough bowel movements to stimulate the uterus into contracting, and hopefully kick it into gear.  By mid morning it seemed like this is what was happening, but my contractions were not painful or consistent.  Just annoying bouts that sent my hopes falling each time.2016-11-22-10-13-52
The Holy Spirit had prompted me to do two things on Tuesday morning: to play worship music all day and to text my good friend, Janice, and ask her if she was available to come over and do some CFT on me.  Craniosacral Fascia Therapy releases the fascia strain in one’s body, allowing it to relax and unwind.  Janice arrived mid morning and worked on me for a few hours.  We took a couple of walks around the neighborhood as well, and I tried not to be disappointed when I walked a whole mile and only experienced one contraction.

Matthew was home, but doing work and taking care of the children, who had all never been a part of mom being in labor before.  I decided to take a hot shower, and let the tears flow a bit, begging God to allow my body to relax and start the process of delivering this baby from my body.  Music constantly filled my ears and slayed many fearful thoughts.

You unravel me with a melody
You surround me with a song
Of deliverance from my enemies
‘Til all my fears are gone

When I got out of the shower, something had changed.  I came downstairs to find Matthew and talk to him.  He took one look at me, leaning on the table during a contraction and said, “It’s time we think about going.”  Nadine and Janice were washing dishes, and I started making sure we had everything we needed.  One moment that stands out in my mind is when Jack came over to me, looked at my face and said, “This is it, isn’t it?” I nodded and he burst into tears and hugged me so tightly.  I don’t think I realize even now how much patience and delayed hope they had each experienced in their own way the last few weeks.  Right before we left, everyone circled around me and prayed.  While walking with Janice, I had mentioned that I had always wanted to have a baby in the daytime, before the sun went down.  As everyone prayed, Janice boldly asked that this baby would be born with the sunshine.

From my mother’s womb
You have chosen me
Love has called my name
I’ve been born again
Into your family
Your blood flows through my veins

We got in the van, and the entire way to the birth center, the sunshine was in my face as we drove towards the West.  It was like a kiss from God.  The intensity of the contractions picked up considerably as well.  We arrived around 4:30.

I’m no longer a slave to fear
I am a child of God

I was almost 5cm, which from my history doesn’t mean a whole lot, because once things picked up, I knew it could go pretty quickly.  Yet way back in my head I kept pulling out doubtful thoughts and laying them on the table.  Fears of the impossibility that lay ahead of me.  I did this already.  I remembered the pain now.  How would it be possible to do it again?  Nadine was in charge of music, and I told her to quickly turn it back on.

I’m no longer a slave to fear
I am a child of God

Half an hour later, I crawled into the tub at the birth center, and fought with two voices for the next hour.  One voice that tormented and taunted me and told me I couldn’t do this.  Then one Voice that always rose a little higher and held me up through the incredibly intense waves.  Janice was behind me, supporting my body as it moved to make room for delivery.  I knew this was happening, but still kept fighting the fears.

I am surrounded
By the arms of the father
I am surrounded
By songs of deliverance

Matthew and my mom were perched in front of me, each holding my hands and encouraging me.  I wanted so badly to scream the words, “I CAN’T!” but the steady strength of my Father, played out through the hands of my mom, Matthew and Janice, kept the words from actually coming out of my mouth.  I knew the moment they did, everything would take longer.

The music had stopped and between contractions I told Nadine to start playing “Baby Chip’s Playlist”.  It started right up, and I knew one of the songs on there would be the right one in which for him to enter the world.

We’ve been liberated
From our bondage
We’re the sons and the daughters
Let us sing our freedom

The all-too-familiar feeling of needing to push flooded over me like a wave.

You split the sea
So I could walk right through it
My fears were drowned in perfect love
You rescued me
And I could stand and sing
I am a child of God…

I remember calling out those words during a wave: I am a child of God.  Speaking truth over myself, which is one of the biggest things God has taught me this year.  This was the song that was playing when he came.

Yes, I am
I am a child of God
Full of faith
Yes, I am a child of God

There is a moment of time when a baby enters the world that is so holy, so indescribable, that I can’t even write about it.  When his sweet little body was brought up to my chest, I kept saying, “Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.”  This gift.  This son.  Longed and waited for, I felt like I had fought through so many battles to hold him at last.  It was 5:58pm.

I’m no longer a slave to fear
I am a child of God

None of us know the answers to “what if” questions.  All I can say is, I know the promptings of the Holy Spirit who lives in me.  He knew what I needed that day.  To be surrounded by songs of deliverance.  I know there was a fight, and I don’t know why it unfolded the way it did.  Harry was born with the cord wrapped around his neck three times, and there were two knots in the cord as well.  Once I was back on the bed and delivered the placenta, things kind of went into high-speed.  My body started to hemorrhage and I just remember wanting to take a nap.  Matthew’s voice in my face asking me if I was alright.  I felt just fine, only tired.  They gave me three medications to stop the bleeding.  It worked, and though I never felt fear, it was tiptoeing around the room, ready to pounce again.

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Harry’s breathing was concerning to the midwives.  His little chest was retracting a bit, and I started having a fever.  Even though I was sure it was because of the medicine, because I tend to get every side effect possible, they were concerned enough to transfer us both to the hospital.  So it was a really rough transition, but ten minutes later, I found myself in one ambulance and Matthew and Harry were in the other.  The whole way to the hospital, I started to feel more and more like myself.  My fever was going down, and an hour later, was gone.  I said no thank you to an IV and to antibiotics, and waited for the doctor to see me.  He saw my bleeding was normal, my temperature was gone, and discharged me right away.  Then the NICU doctor came and told us they found a pneumothorax on Harry’s lung.  It was super small, and they were hopeful it would resolve itself.

After two unexpected days in the NICU, we were grateful for the news that Harry did not have any infection and the pneumothorax did indeed resolve itself.  It was the strangest and humanly very lonliest Thanksgiving I’ve ever experienced.  Yet it was full of the peace and grace that can only be experience when you are a child of God.  Matthew brought me tons of food from the grocery store and my mom’s Thanksgiving dinner for my voracious appetite.

Again, we can never live in the land of “what if”, so even though the first couple of days were not in any way what I had imagined, it is what it was.
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We are home now.  Harry Charles is two weeks old.
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His furrowed brow is lightening up a bit, and he’s opening his eyes to the world more and more each day.  We all absolutely love him.  He is named after Matthew’s Pop Pop who went to be with Jesus earlier this year.  He was a tall, handsome, incredibly loving man.  We think Harry already has some of his charm.  His name means “Warrior”, “Leader in War”, “Manly” and “Free Man”.  God knew the ferocious world he would be born into.  Our prayer is that he would be a warrior and leader.  A man who fearlessly fights for the freedom of souls, both physically and eternally.
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Thirty-four Week Reality

I tried to bend over.  My shoelaces felt like they were a mile away, and I sat back down on the couch, defeated.  My sweet baby girl, who is no longer a baby, knelt down in front of me.  Her own sneakers neatly tied, warm winter coat covering her little body.  It was so chilly this morning.  She deftly took my shoelaces in her pinkies and tied my shoes in her own special Betty way.  Unique like her.  Her helpful servant’s heart overflowed through her fingers to make a perfect bow.  It was a soft moment in a rather rushed and not so gentle morning.

2016-10-11-08-10-03-1My day began around 3 o’clock this morning when a noise woke me up.  Which in turn led my bladder to wake up and I shuffled out of bed to the bathroom.  It’s a dangerous journey these days, down the hall and through the bathroom doors.  As we’ve been painting baby Chip’s room, there are extra things tucked along the edges, making it very tricky for a balance-challenged-half-asleep-pregnant woman.  Often I can fall right back asleep, but this morning my body felt VERY awake, despite the long day of painting before.  I read for a little while, then dozed off right about when Matthew was getting up for work.  The next thing I remember is being fully awakened by a phone call from Matthew, at work, to make sure I was awake.  Only then did I remember hitting my snooze button.  Oops.  So, we had 45 minutes to ALL wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, and pack lunches for their day at camp.  Insert my shoes getting tied here, after an incredibly rushed and harried morning.

We did make it in time.  After I dropped them off, I had the entire day alone.  This is both therapeaudic and eery for me.  To not talk to anyone, or hear my name being called for the thousandth time, can actually be a bit lonely.  Right around 1 o’clock I somewhat lost it.  I had many hopes and expectations for my day, and about the only thing I accomplished was putting away the groceries I got and washing the dishes from our incredibly crazy morning.  Something about the water rushing over my hands, and the quiet of the house, made the tears fall freely.

There are other things at play, I’m sure.  Something like pregnancy hormones, and all the changes going on in our family right now.  For the past fourteen years, each and every pregnancy has been coupled together with major changes, as if having a baby isn’t change enough.  Yet their births have been like exciting exclamation points, accentuating God’s blessing on our family.  When we found out we were expecting mid-November, I knew God had something huge in store for us at the end of this year.  We’re still unsure of what that is, but we feel the crescendo of God’s masterful handiwork, as November swiftly approaches.  Stay tuned.
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