In October of last year my grandpas already troubled health started getting much much worse. By November the doctors said that his kidneys were not working right. Grandpa had a pretty good thanksgiving (it was always his favorite) and even a pretty good good Christmas. By January we knew it wouldn't be long before grandpa finally got to go home.
The doctor came into the hospital room to tell him and grandma that his kidneys were no longer filtering. He told them he didn't want to do dialysis because of his health. Grandpa said he didn't want it. The doctor, trying to make sure he understood what it would mean, asked him if he knew what that meant. Grandpa said, "yes, I'm going home." The doctor, thinking Grandpa didn't understand the question asked again, "Do you know what will happen if you do not do dialysis?" and my grandpa said, "yes, I'm going to heaven."
That is probably one of the most reassuring stories that I have ever heard. He was not afraid of the next step, because he knew exactly what it would mean. I am so very thankful that on that Mothers Day so long ago my grandpa answered Gods knocking on his hearts door and said yes.
He was a man who was my hero, a man who had a ton of grand kids but could make you feel like you were the one he loved most right at that moment (I really was the favorite, just don't tell anyone else...;) ), a man who gave his life to bring others to the savior who saved a sinner like him. A man who loved his wife, and family, and church.
I was thinking back about some of my favorite times with him. I remember playing hide and seek in the church (a couple of them) and getting caught and scolded, but seeing the twinkle in his eye. I remember when he would call and say, "We are going fishing, make me some Peanut Butter and Jelly" and hang up before you even got to ask what time, how many, and what kid of Jelly. Lol I remember on those fishing trips sometimes he would go out in his tube in the middle of the ponds and yell at us to be quiet because we were scaring the fish away. Lol I remember sitting in church with him and giggling when he would scare the congregation with his "WELL HLORY!" and "PREACH IT" and "mmmmmhhhmmmm, that's good stuff" or finish a sentence for whoever was preaching. I remember sitting there just talking about anything and everything and sitting on his lap while he told me about my dad, or about Jesus, or about the football game that was on tv. I remember him scaring the daylights of us by coming in a room and yelling at us just because it amused him to see how high we would jump.
I'm not gonna lie. Every once in a while I felt extremely selfish during those last few weeks. I wanted to keep my grandpa forever. Jesus was supposed to come back before he took him. It's no fun to say goodbye on this earth no matter how exciting the next hello is going to be.
But when all is said and done I would not ever ask him to stay and be so sick. Even though my heart hurts for myself, and my grandma, and my daddy, and all the rest of my family, thinking of him in heaven rejoicing makes it worth it. To know he isn't hurting or struggling anymore gives peace. To know exactly where he is and how much he longed to be there gives a peace that definitely passes all understanding.
The family that was around when when he went HOME tells an amazing story of Gods grace and peace. He didn't struggle or fight, he didn't have pain. God let him come peacefully before him. What a blessing!!!!
At his funeral we had church. It was one of the best church services of my life. It was one of the hardest of my life. But more than that it spoke of my grandpas testimony, and character. He sold out to God. He wasn't perfect. He was a SINNER saved by GRACE. And he was proud of it. I can't even imagine where all 136+ of us would be if it wasn't for that grace. God blessed our tribe because of my grandparents love for him. Not because of who they were, or what they had done, or how many churches they pastored, or how many people they won to Christ. Not for how many times he preached, or read the bible, or how many of their kids serve Him. He blessed them for their faithfulness. What an awesome heritage and legacy we have been left. Not everyone can say what we can all say about our heritage. I have always been proud of who I am. Where I came from. I have always known why we are so blessed. But now, more than ever, I am amazed and my heart is full with it.
So even when I have a sad thought or miss him, because being the ones left behind is very hard, I know that someday I will see him again. And while I am still here and living this crazy life, I will strive to bring honor to my God. Not because I want my grandpa or grandma to see what all I did for Christ, but because through their lives they have taught me to want to do it for Jesus.
And THAT is the greatest inheritance anyone could ever receive. <3
Monday, February 13, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Goodbye 2011! Hello 2012!
2011 was a very long, trying, eventful year. To say the least. I am thankful for the things I learned. The blessings I received. The hard times I survived. And the great things that were all mixed in. But I am not sorry to see it go!
This New year will probably bring a lot of unexpected things too. But I'm excited to see what those will be. I usually make New Years Resolutions, and I NEVER keep them. Usually its about 3 weeks max and then it's so long to whatever I was deciding to do that year. So this year I decided that I want to make life and heart resolutions. I want to grow closer to God, become a better wife and mother, and live for the days I have, come want may. I want to not worry so much, and trust God more. I want to be thankful for what I do have, instead of looking at what I could have. I want to love better, laugh more, and live like I know where I'm going (because I do!).
In church this morning I remembered something my dad taught us to do every New Year. He would trace our hands and our feet and cut them out. Then he would take us to the church when no one else was there and we would lay our hands and our feet at the alter and he would pray for us. He would pray that God would keep us in His will. That we would let Him use our hands and feet for Him. And he would, every year, give us back to God. When I was little I thought it was fun to trace my hands and feet and give them to Jesus. Now that I have my own kids I see how precious and blessed I am to have a dad that wanted only Gods best for us. So this year, with my New resolutions, my only prayer is that my children and family will see that in me. Even through the times when I fall and don't do it just right. I want "to do everything I do to the glory of the one who made me, cause He made me!"
So, if you think about it, please pray for me this year! I won't ever be perfect and I won't always do everything just right. I will always be taking tiny little baby steps and probably falling flat on my face (a lot). But hopefully by 2013 I will have learned to pick myself back up a little better than I do now. I am so glad God knows me, and that when I do fall He is right to help me back up.
Happy New Year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
I'm thankful for the tears. =)
Yet again Its been a while. I'm a busy Momma! =)
I was watching Abby and Kenzy Grace today and thinking about myself as Abby's age and what I liked, or didn't like. How I played. What my favorite things were. Then I realized I honestly didn't know. I seem to hit a brick wall everytime I start trying to remember things that happened before I was 8 years old. I couldn't tell you the date, or the season. But i can tell you what I was wearing that day, exactly where I was standing, and the exact words to come out of my dads mouth. I wont go into that now, but it always bothers me that there are only a few things that I can remember before that day, and most of those are only because there is a picture. On days like today when I struggle to break down that wall to only let the good in, I have a very hard time not letting hurt in too. But everytime I have a day like today, I am also thankful that God has given me a family of my own to make memories with that (I hope) will be remembered even without pictures. I love hearing my girls giggle and laugh, even when its not a real giggle anymore. I love being a mommy so very much more than I ever even imagined I could. To me, that is the greatest gift God could have ever given me (besides salvation, of course). Being a mommy was something I was completely terrified to try. I didn't know if I could do it, or how to do it for that matter. I am thankful that God gave me someone to show me how, even if it was later and in unexpected ways. I know, compared to a lot of people, my story isn't so bad. And everyone has a story! I'm thankful God doesn't give any of us anything HE can't handle, and that even on days when my "little" hurts seem very very big, God is always a whole lot bigger. I pray that the girls will grow up knowing that too. God gave me the best dad in the world to protect us and guide us through our lives, and then let him marry the person who helped make me who I am today. God definitely works in mysterious ways (And I think He has a very imaginative sense of humor).
I used to hate that I would feel sad or even mad. I would (I thought) rather feel nothing at all. But now that I am a mommy and a wife, those feelings mean that I am not who I was always worried about becoming. Another of Gods greatest gifts. It seems God has a very good way of turning the ugly into the beautiful in every part of my life when I let Him. My dad instilled in us that God is good all the time, and my mom made sure it was enforced.
So on the days when I feel sad, or heavy hearted, or even sometimes angry, I am glad God hears those cries and I know He has done a very good thing for my heart. So I will finish with this....
Psalm 27:7-14 Hear, O Lord, when I cry with my voice: have mercy also upon me, and answer me. When thou saidst, Seek ye my face; my heart said unto thee, Thy face, Lord, will I seek. Hide not thy face far from me; put not thy servant away in anger: thou hast been my help; leave me not, neither forsake me, O God of my salvation. When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up. Teach me thy way, O Lord, and lead me in a plain path, because of mine enemies. Deliver me not over unto the will of mine enemies: for false witnesses are risen up against me, and such as breathe out cruelty. I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shal strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Homeschooling....dun, dun, dun...
Growing up I had no idea that Homeschooling was so controversial. It's what we did at my house, and while I knew that not everyone did it, I never realized how much peoples opinions varied on the subject.
When I was home schooled I learned to read at 5, I HATED math, and I SWORE I would never do that to my children. I felt left out because I didn't go to the Christian school all my church friends went to. I was very shy and very introverted. I thought then that it was because I was home schooled. I thought that home school kids never got to make friends, never got to be in choir, never got to play sports, never got to go on field trips, and I sure didn't get to have a "sick day" or "snow day."
What I didn't know was that most homeschool kids went on field trips, played sports, sang in choirs, made friends, had play dates. What I didn't know was that because of our family situation (which I will not go into detail about here) was the reason that I didn't do all that. It wasn't just because I was home schooled! It WASN'T just because I was HOMESCHOOLED!! That knowledge was priceless to me when I realized that.
However, knowing that did not change my opinion of it. Until I had my own first baby that is. When she was one I had started thinking about what kind of school I wanted her in (ie- Private, Public). I started going to FBC Mustang and there were a couple of families there that homeschooled and I started thinking about it. But I wasn't thinking, "Hey! I'm gonna home school my kids because I loved it so much!" I was thinking, "It's all good and well for them, but it's not for me!" But as the years went by (all 3 of them!) it seemed like God was laying it on my heart. I told myself, "My husband will never go for that. He wouldn't understand, so I am not even going to talk about it!" And then she turned 2.
I asked Anthony what he thought and he said, "That's a long ways away. We'll see." And I told myself, "See! He is hoping I'll forget, or change my mind. He doesn't want me to." And then she turned 3.
I broached the subject a little more carefully this time. I asked him what he thought about homeschooling, and what he thought about public school. He didn't really say anything, but a few weeks (or months, I forget...) went by and it seemed like we kept hearing about crazy stuff happening at schools, even the ones that were in "good" districts.
Now, I know that it might sounds crazy to some, but when God has wanted me to do something in the past, I very rarely get away with not doing it. So sometimes I try and half do it, like asking to be a helper in Sunday school and, what do you know! They only need a teacher. Seriously...it so happens. Ask my mom.
So this time it's my hubby that says, "Homeschooling is going to be the only safe school pretty soon!" Of course he said it flippantly and not with much enthusiasm, but it made me say, "Well crap!" I very likely even said it out loud.
About 6 months later I decided if Anthony said to do it, then I would do it. I asked him what he thought again and told him we needed to decide because I needed to start figuring out how to enroll her in school if we were sending her. And he says, "You want to home school her?" I say, "Yes. I think its what we should do." and he says, "It's what we are going to do."
I'm not gonna lie. I was speechless. That was what he said, and HOW he said it. Like he had already decided and was just making sure I was still going along with it.
So here we are. Six and half weeks into it and I am amazed at what she has done so far! She knows all her letters, she can count to 30 (almost by herself, and we are working to get to 100), she is learning all the sounds her letters make, and already figures out more than I expected all on her own. She is learning how to blend her letters to make words. She read cat, hat, sat, and mat the other day (although she refuses to do it again, LOL).
When I got her school stuff I ordered Kindergarten stuff. The Pre-K stuff was mostly colors, shapes, letters, and numbers. She already knew most of that so I didn't want it to be too easy. I wanted her to be challenged because she gets bored with things very easy. I have had to modify some of it for her, but I am completely surprised at how much she has done and that I haven't had to change! She can write all her name, all her numbers, and about half of her letters.
We have had play dates, and she wants to play the drums. (Side note: mommy isn't too excited about that. daddy thinks that is cool.) She says she wants to play every sport there is. Basketball, Baseball, Soccer, Volleyball, Tennis, and Football (even though daddy keeps telling her girls can't......). She is stubborn as can be and some days school work is a struggle. She will act like she doesn't know any of her letters, or any of their sounds, or how to write them. If you name something in her work that day she probably doesn't want to do that either. But most days are an adventure for her. She is proud when she can sing the alphabet all by herself (even though she has been since she could talk), and when she writes her letters or numbers right. I must say that homeschooling is probably the most rewarding thing I have ever done besides being a mommy. Who knew!!
Disclaimer:
1. I know homeschooling isn't for everyone.
2. If you are that one that it isn't for, I absolutely do not think less of anyone who doesn't choose it.
3. If homeschooling is not only NOT for you, but you can't possibly see how it can be for anyone, or good for the kids involved, you can keep it to yourself. I don't come to your house and tell you how you should or shouldn't raise your kids, where they should or shouldn't go to school, what they should or shouldn't wear, or who they should or shouldn't talk to . What's best for my family is not best for anyone else's. And what's best for yours isn't what is best for mine. So lets be friends, and keep the negative comments out of it. With love of course! ;)
When I was home schooled I learned to read at 5, I HATED math, and I SWORE I would never do that to my children. I felt left out because I didn't go to the Christian school all my church friends went to. I was very shy and very introverted. I thought then that it was because I was home schooled. I thought that home school kids never got to make friends, never got to be in choir, never got to play sports, never got to go on field trips, and I sure didn't get to have a "sick day" or "snow day."
What I didn't know was that most homeschool kids went on field trips, played sports, sang in choirs, made friends, had play dates. What I didn't know was that because of our family situation (which I will not go into detail about here) was the reason that I didn't do all that. It wasn't just because I was home schooled! It WASN'T just because I was HOMESCHOOLED!! That knowledge was priceless to me when I realized that.
However, knowing that did not change my opinion of it. Until I had my own first baby that is. When she was one I had started thinking about what kind of school I wanted her in (ie- Private, Public). I started going to FBC Mustang and there were a couple of families there that homeschooled and I started thinking about it. But I wasn't thinking, "Hey! I'm gonna home school my kids because I loved it so much!" I was thinking, "It's all good and well for them, but it's not for me!" But as the years went by (all 3 of them!) it seemed like God was laying it on my heart. I told myself, "My husband will never go for that. He wouldn't understand, so I am not even going to talk about it!" And then she turned 2.
I asked Anthony what he thought and he said, "That's a long ways away. We'll see." And I told myself, "See! He is hoping I'll forget, or change my mind. He doesn't want me to." And then she turned 3.
I broached the subject a little more carefully this time. I asked him what he thought about homeschooling, and what he thought about public school. He didn't really say anything, but a few weeks (or months, I forget...) went by and it seemed like we kept hearing about crazy stuff happening at schools, even the ones that were in "good" districts.
Now, I know that it might sounds crazy to some, but when God has wanted me to do something in the past, I very rarely get away with not doing it. So sometimes I try and half do it, like asking to be a helper in Sunday school and, what do you know! They only need a teacher. Seriously...it so happens. Ask my mom.
So this time it's my hubby that says, "Homeschooling is going to be the only safe school pretty soon!" Of course he said it flippantly and not with much enthusiasm, but it made me say, "Well crap!" I very likely even said it out loud.
About 6 months later I decided if Anthony said to do it, then I would do it. I asked him what he thought again and told him we needed to decide because I needed to start figuring out how to enroll her in school if we were sending her. And he says, "You want to home school her?" I say, "Yes. I think its what we should do." and he says, "It's what we are going to do."
I'm not gonna lie. I was speechless. That was what he said, and HOW he said it. Like he had already decided and was just making sure I was still going along with it.
So here we are. Six and half weeks into it and I am amazed at what she has done so far! She knows all her letters, she can count to 30 (almost by herself, and we are working to get to 100), she is learning all the sounds her letters make, and already figures out more than I expected all on her own. She is learning how to blend her letters to make words. She read cat, hat, sat, and mat the other day (although she refuses to do it again, LOL).
When I got her school stuff I ordered Kindergarten stuff. The Pre-K stuff was mostly colors, shapes, letters, and numbers. She already knew most of that so I didn't want it to be too easy. I wanted her to be challenged because she gets bored with things very easy. I have had to modify some of it for her, but I am completely surprised at how much she has done and that I haven't had to change! She can write all her name, all her numbers, and about half of her letters.
We have had play dates, and she wants to play the drums. (Side note: mommy isn't too excited about that. daddy thinks that is cool.) She says she wants to play every sport there is. Basketball, Baseball, Soccer, Volleyball, Tennis, and Football (even though daddy keeps telling her girls can't......). She is stubborn as can be and some days school work is a struggle. She will act like she doesn't know any of her letters, or any of their sounds, or how to write them. If you name something in her work that day she probably doesn't want to do that either. But most days are an adventure for her. She is proud when she can sing the alphabet all by herself (even though she has been since she could talk), and when she writes her letters or numbers right. I must say that homeschooling is probably the most rewarding thing I have ever done besides being a mommy. Who knew!!
Disclaimer:
1. I know homeschooling isn't for everyone.
2. If you are that one that it isn't for, I absolutely do not think less of anyone who doesn't choose it.
3. If homeschooling is not only NOT for you, but you can't possibly see how it can be for anyone, or good for the kids involved, you can keep it to yourself. I don't come to your house and tell you how you should or shouldn't raise your kids, where they should or shouldn't go to school, what they should or shouldn't wear, or who they should or shouldn't talk to . What's best for my family is not best for anyone else's. And what's best for yours isn't what is best for mine. So lets be friends, and keep the negative comments out of it. With love of course! ;)
Thursday, September 1, 2011
What time I am afraid....
Some days I take for granted the fact that I was raised in a Christian home and taught to learn lots of Bible verses, and know the Bible stories, and how much God loves us. Then something happens and reminds me not to take it for granted.
So my thought for the night is this:
I am going to do my best to stop taking for granted that God loves me and won't give me anything I can't handle. Because, in my taking for that granted, I assume that God won't give me anything hard, because I don't like hard or handle it very well. But that's the point of trusting God through everything. I don't have to be able to Handle it. HE will help to handle it if I will let Him. And in order to do that I have to stop thinking that when He says He won't give me anything "I" can't handle, He doesn't mean by myself. I am very thankful that I was raised to know that. And I am also thankful that God gives things in my life to help me remember not to take it for granted.
Isaiah 41:10 Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.
So my thought for the night is this:
I am going to do my best to stop taking for granted that God loves me and won't give me anything I can't handle. Because, in my taking for that granted, I assume that God won't give me anything hard, because I don't like hard or handle it very well. But that's the point of trusting God through everything. I don't have to be able to Handle it. HE will help to handle it if I will let Him. And in order to do that I have to stop thinking that when He says He won't give me anything "I" can't handle, He doesn't mean by myself. I am very thankful that I was raised to know that. And I am also thankful that God gives things in my life to help me remember not to take it for granted.
Isaiah 41:10 Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Homeschooling a Preschooler...
It seems that I am not as faithful to my blog as I intended. I guess every three weeks will have to be acceptable for today.
We started homeschooling on August 1st. I always swore growing up I would never, ever, ever home school my kids. I guess that's what I get for saying never. When Abby turned 3 I started talking to Anthony about what he thought about homeschooling. We didn't talk a lot about it but I would bring it up every once in a while and he would just say something like "We'll see." At Christmas 2010 I brought it up again. We talked about how shy Abigail is, about the pro's and con's of going to school, and about what we really wanted for her. I felt like I really needed to home school her and since Anthony had no arguments against it we decided to see how it went. In March of this year I started researching what I wanted to start her out on. I didn't want it to be something that I took lightly and I wanted to make sure I made the right decisions for all of us. I decided on
A-Beka. It's what I knew and a lot of what I did when I was home schooled oh so long ago. I picked out some Pre-K stuff, but mostly I got Kindergarten books. She has always loved to color, she knows all of her colors and shapes. She knows how to write and draw and cut out paper. And she loves to do things where you follow the directions. Most of the Pre-K stuff I found was stuff she already knows and while reviewing them is a very good thing I didn't want her just coloring and playing, I wanted her learning stuff. She already knew all of her vowels and all the sounds that they make but she doesn't know how to write them. So for the last 5 weeks we have been learning how to write them and how to write the numbers
1-5.
I have been taking what she knows and adding it into the new things she is learning. I have been taking some things slow when she gets stubborn and doesn't want to even try. She has been doing so good most of the time, but every once in a while we have melt downs about whether or not she can write any letter or number. I tell her that I don't need it to be perfect. I tell her that if it doesn't even look like the letter/number the first couple of days that is OK! She is a perfectionist and thinks if she can't do it right the first time then she most definitely shouldn't try again! I have had to tweak some things and make up my own stuff along the way. But she has progressed so much in just these few short weeks and now tells me she wants to learn how to read! I am loving every second of it, even when she doesn't want to do it. Because after the crying and stubbornness has gone and she tries again anyway, I am so proud of how well she will do.
Homeschooling with a new born is interesting, but I am glad that she sleeps, and that she will lay in the floor with Abby and I and watch a baby show while I help Abby write a letter, or do her number workbook, or read our books. She is such a good baby, and even when she is extra needy and just wants me to hold her, she is so quiet and sweet it doesn't bother the schooling.
I LoVe being a mommy and wife. It's what I was created to do.
In a few weeks I will start looking for a Transcription job to do from home while the kiddos are napping or watching a movie and when Ant gets home. There are a couple other things I am considering as well, and I am excited to see how this school year goes and who knows, I might have a reader in my house by the spring. She can already tell me what sounds are in words and match them to their letter. It's pretty exciting to be able to watch that!
A little update on the girlies:
In the last three weeks nothing to exciting has happened other than my girls getting WAY too big!
Abigail went to her 4 year check up and weighed 40lbs and is 43.5 inches tall. She is off the charts and I love it. She is such a big girl, and I love how big of a help she wants to be.
Kenzy Grace had her 2 month check up today and is 11lbs 14oz and 24 inches tall. She is in the 91st ion height and the 65th in weight. Both my girls like to make sure they are at the top of their charts. Lets hope that carries over into school work, jobs, relationships, and life in general!
We started homeschooling on August 1st. I always swore growing up I would never, ever, ever home school my kids. I guess that's what I get for saying never. When Abby turned 3 I started talking to Anthony about what he thought about homeschooling. We didn't talk a lot about it but I would bring it up every once in a while and he would just say something like "We'll see." At Christmas 2010 I brought it up again. We talked about how shy Abigail is, about the pro's and con's of going to school, and about what we really wanted for her. I felt like I really needed to home school her and since Anthony had no arguments against it we decided to see how it went. In March of this year I started researching what I wanted to start her out on. I didn't want it to be something that I took lightly and I wanted to make sure I made the right decisions for all of us. I decided on
A-Beka. It's what I knew and a lot of what I did when I was home schooled oh so long ago. I picked out some Pre-K stuff, but mostly I got Kindergarten books. She has always loved to color, she knows all of her colors and shapes. She knows how to write and draw and cut out paper. And she loves to do things where you follow the directions. Most of the Pre-K stuff I found was stuff she already knows and while reviewing them is a very good thing I didn't want her just coloring and playing, I wanted her learning stuff. She already knew all of her vowels and all the sounds that they make but she doesn't know how to write them. So for the last 5 weeks we have been learning how to write them and how to write the numbers
1-5.
I have been taking what she knows and adding it into the new things she is learning. I have been taking some things slow when she gets stubborn and doesn't want to even try. She has been doing so good most of the time, but every once in a while we have melt downs about whether or not she can write any letter or number. I tell her that I don't need it to be perfect. I tell her that if it doesn't even look like the letter/number the first couple of days that is OK! She is a perfectionist and thinks if she can't do it right the first time then she most definitely shouldn't try again! I have had to tweak some things and make up my own stuff along the way. But she has progressed so much in just these few short weeks and now tells me she wants to learn how to read! I am loving every second of it, even when she doesn't want to do it. Because after the crying and stubbornness has gone and she tries again anyway, I am so proud of how well she will do.
Homeschooling with a new born is interesting, but I am glad that she sleeps, and that she will lay in the floor with Abby and I and watch a baby show while I help Abby write a letter, or do her number workbook, or read our books. She is such a good baby, and even when she is extra needy and just wants me to hold her, she is so quiet and sweet it doesn't bother the schooling.
I LoVe being a mommy and wife. It's what I was created to do.
In a few weeks I will start looking for a Transcription job to do from home while the kiddos are napping or watching a movie and when Ant gets home. There are a couple other things I am considering as well, and I am excited to see how this school year goes and who knows, I might have a reader in my house by the spring. She can already tell me what sounds are in words and match them to their letter. It's pretty exciting to be able to watch that!
A little update on the girlies:
In the last three weeks nothing to exciting has happened other than my girls getting WAY too big!
Abigail went to her 4 year check up and weighed 40lbs and is 43.5 inches tall. She is off the charts and I love it. She is such a big girl, and I love how big of a help she wants to be.
Kenzy Grace had her 2 month check up today and is 11lbs 14oz and 24 inches tall. She is in the 91st ion height and the 65th in weight. Both my girls like to make sure they are at the top of their charts. Lets hope that carries over into school work, jobs, relationships, and life in general!
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Makenzy Grace, 9lbs 1oz 21 inches.......
Well, I have been very neglectful of my poor little blog so I thought I would give it some attention. How about the exciting Makenzy Grace to help get it started again.
Being pregnant, as I have said before, is most definitely not my thing. This time it was really hard on me. Every part of me. My emotions, my body, my mind, my little family. There were things going on in my body that I didn't tell anyone I was worried about, and I tried to be ok with. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen.
I asked my doctor if I could have the baby a week early because I was having so much trouble with everything. She suggested I go two weeks early but I didn't want to do that so that Abby would have her birthday all to herself. I didn't realize at the time that she was also a little concerned about my heart and the crazy things it was having fun doing in the last three months (maybe the whole time actually) of pregnancy. She put me on partial bed rest 7 weeks before I was due, telling me that I really needed to take it easy because of my swelling and my blood pressure. She never said anything about my heart rate, which was going from around 100 to 135 or higher for no apparent reason.
June 27th couldn't have come any faster! I was ready for it! But I was also scared to death. I was never that scared with Abby. But this time I was worried. I didn't know how my heart was going to handle getting a kid out when it was barely handling the very little I could manage to do with a 3, almost 4, year old. I didn't tell anyone I was worried about it. I told my mom what it would do but never how completely terrified I was.
Finally it was the day before we were to go to the hospital. I was sooooo happy and relieved it was almost over. And then my phone rang. It was my doctors office calling. I thought they were calling to remind me that I was supposed to be at the hospital at 5am to get ready to be induced. Like I could possibly forget that. haha I answered it fully anticipating that it was going to be a recording telling me when, where, and how. What I didn't expect was to hear my doctor on the other end. She asked how I was doing and I said I was ready for the morning. And then she asked if I would like to come in that night (Sunday night!!!) to start the induction process early by doing something a little extra. Well of course I was not turning that down. Anything to hurry that process sounded GREAT!
When we got to the hospital they hooked me up (after 5 VERY painful tries, 4 blown veins, and an infiltration) to the IV and got my fluids started. Once again I was slightly dehydrated so they kept me hooked up all night. They gave me a cervadil to help get my "stuff" ready to have that baby! Every time a new nurse came in they asked me about my "heart condition" and everyone would freak out. It was actually quite comical if they wouldn't have been making me more freaked out every time someone asked why I wasn't seeing a cardiologist or taking meds. I am guessing your heart rate trying to match the babies is NOT a good idea?
At 2:30am I started having contractions. Not bad enough to make you cry, just bad enough to not let me sleep very well. I asked for Tylenol and the nurse said no. I was ready to cry then. She said it wouldn't help so if they got over a 4 in pain to call her and she would give me a shot of Staydol. I didn't call her because I got annoyed. Plus they weren't too bad. See...I can do pain...haha
They started my Pitocin at 5am. They told me they would have the anesthesiologist come in at 7:30am and give me my epidural and came to see how I was doing at about 6:45. I was READY for that epidural by then and she said she ordered it. The changing of the guard happened at 7:30...and I was crying and waiting and praying I could just make it the few seconds I thought I had, without completely losing it and bawling. Then my new nurse, who's name was Ashlee, came in, threw a huge fit about the mess my IV cords were in, the mess the night nurses had left me and the room in, and I knew she was going to be my angel. She asked me how I was doing, and I was handling it ok. The contractions were about a 6 consistently and 7-8 every once in a while...I could do this until he got there. She looked and guess what....Night nurse Teresa didn't order my epidural. I did cry then. But Ashlee found him and he was doing one right across the hall and would came as soon as he was done. I have no idea how long that was. I just know I was doing my best not to cry and not to lose it. Then he was there. I think it must be a prerequisite for Anesthesiologist's to be tall dark and handsome (even if they are old), or maybe that is just what you see when they come in and rescue you from the pain. Either way...I don't mind. He did his magic. It took a few minutes and the pain started going away slowly. What a relief. I was only at a 1 (barely) and the baby was still way high up and not coming down anytime soon. But I wasn't hurting so bad and decided if they just cut her out I was good with that. I had to be on Oxygen because my placenta was not working right and the baby's heart wasn't doing so good because of it. Mine went WAY up and hers went down. Go figure. The oxygen worked though and all was good.
About 2:30pm the contractions started hurting again. All on my left side and slowly the pain was getting worse and worse until I could no longer hold back the tears. My mom called the nurse in and she gave me a bolus of the epidural and that helped some. About an hour later they started coming back again. Now, this whole time I had been rolling from my left to my right side trying to help get baby to come down. I was at a 7 when they started hurting so bad and I was on my left side. The baby was hiding from the monitors and they kept having to come and move them and she didn't like that. She was doing fine...just stubborn. They came in, gave me another bolus and had me roll over to my right side. That's when I absolutely could not take it anymore. I could NOT lay on that side after about 5 minutes of that and I wasn't getting a break in between the contractions, unless 30 seconds counts. My mom called the nurse back in and they checked me and I was still a 7 and the baby was still not coming down. My wonderful nurse decided to sit the bed up so I was sitting straight up and my mom and MIL said it looked like I could fall out, sat me Indian style and called "THE man" to come back and see what he could do. Once again I have no idea how long that was...but it was the longest however long of my entire life. I tried to have a conversation with the people in the room, but I don't think I did so good. And they kept all talking about me like I couldn't hear when the contractions came. Like "did you see how bad that one was", "she's not even really getting a break", "Whoa! That's a huge one!" I wanted to say "I am pretty sure I know how big it was, no I am not getting much of a break, and PLEASE someone get me something so I don't puke!" I'm not sure if I said any of that....but I was trying to! After (however long) "THE man" finally came in and gave me some extra pain meds and I have no idea what else, but wow! After about 5 minutes I was so very much better. Still sitting up Indian style but I could talk again!!! I know I asked for something to help me not throw up then. . I was trying to breath, not throw up, and be brave through the most horrible pain of my entire life (which I failed miserably at) so looking at the clock to try and remember when and how all this happened like I did with Abby was not gonna happen. My doctor came to see how I was doing at some point during all that and asked the nurse to give me something for nausea. About 20 minutes later (I'm guessing) I told my mom and Ant I was feeling like I needed to use the bathroom and I was pretty sure that meant the baby was coming NOW! The first time I was just saying it in passing...the third time my mom and mother-in-law were saying to call the nurse.
The nurse came, checked me out, told me I was complete, but that she was calling another nurse just to make sure. Another nurse came, checked me, told me to push a little and said "She's ready, call the doctor!" My doctor was there in pretty record time and they were prepping me to have the baby. I get all positioned and they check me, tell me to wait for a contraction, and then say "Push!" I did...and out came a head. No one expected that, so my doc pushed her back in, told me to wait until the nursery people got there to push again and then we all just waited. I looked at Ant because I was a little shocked and he mouthed "She's RIGHT THERE!" Once again I was quite shocked, as were my mom and mother-in-law who I asked to stay in the room too. The nursery people got there and had stuff ready and the doctor said to push again when another contraction came. And there she was....well almost. She got stuck. So the doctor had to help. I am not sure what she did. There isn't really time for questions and mirrors and such when a baby practically falls out of you. All I know is she came out, it was completely weird, and she did NOT cry. Ant cut the cord and they laid her on me while they did more gross stuff to me. She still didn't cry. I was trying really hard not to panic, but apparently they all knew she was fine even without hearing her voice because they just kept telling me that. They took her and this time I listened with all my might to hear if she was ok. When they took her she started crying a little but it sounded like she had lost her voice. It was so sad.
They weighed and measured her. A healthy 9lbs 1oz, 21 inches. I KNEW I jinxed myself with the whole "short, fat, lazy" thing. haha But I loved every single bit of those 9lbs!
So there I am, getting nasty stuff taken out of me, getting sown up, and trying my hardest to hear over the people working on me to hear what the people working on her were saying. I heard something about an eye...but Ant told me later that that was just while they were talking about the stuff they put in her eye. After they cleaned her up they gave her back to me and told me to be careful with her left arm. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what that meant, but Anthony told me that they thought something was wrong with her arm and they were going to have to xrays because she wasn't moving it. I was VERY drugged, and hardly understanding what he as saying, but I was NOT happy that yet again something was wrong with my baby.
After I got back from my surgery and Anthony brought the baby to me he told me they thought her collarbone was broken from the "having to help her out" and that they did xrays and we would know in a few hours. While I HATED that my baby was hurting and possibly broken, I was so very relived that was all it was. I was so very happy she got to stay with me and was breathing great. She was also talking. And talking, and talking, and talking. It was the most adorable thing I had ever heard. Her quiet little raspy voice just went on and on. She talked non stop for almost 48 hours. I think now that it was her way of telling us she was hurting, but it was still very very sweet.
The results came back and she was definitely broken. I cried then. I felt so awful for her. But I was still very happy that she would be ok. She would heal in about 6 weeks they said, and be good as new and no one could even tell.
Well...6 long weeks later she is thriving, happy, healthy and amazing. We have had a rough 6 weeks, but they have also been great. I will never get to have this time back and it's my last time to go through those long 6 weeks of recovery, and figuring baby out, and emotions that you can never explain. So I am thankful that while they have been rough sometimes, they have also been long days with my last baby getting to love every part of it. Sometimes when you get what you pray for it's never what you had in mind. I asked God to help me get every minute of my last baby and for it not to seem like it is going too fast, even though no matter what it will. Sometimes I wish I would stop praying for stuff because it seems like God likes to give me what I ask for...but NEVER in the easiest way. LOL But either way I am thankful for my precious baby and her big sister who I have no idea what I ever did without.
Maybe later I'll tell the story of my tubes being tied, but since this is about my baby with a 100 names (And they are Makenzy. Kenzy, Kenzy Grace, Gracey, Mac, Kenzy-kenz, Sissy, Sister, stinky, and Chubby Bug to name a few) I figured I would leave that part out. =)
Being pregnant, as I have said before, is most definitely not my thing. This time it was really hard on me. Every part of me. My emotions, my body, my mind, my little family. There were things going on in my body that I didn't tell anyone I was worried about, and I tried to be ok with. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen.
I asked my doctor if I could have the baby a week early because I was having so much trouble with everything. She suggested I go two weeks early but I didn't want to do that so that Abby would have her birthday all to herself. I didn't realize at the time that she was also a little concerned about my heart and the crazy things it was having fun doing in the last three months (maybe the whole time actually) of pregnancy. She put me on partial bed rest 7 weeks before I was due, telling me that I really needed to take it easy because of my swelling and my blood pressure. She never said anything about my heart rate, which was going from around 100 to 135 or higher for no apparent reason.
June 27th couldn't have come any faster! I was ready for it! But I was also scared to death. I was never that scared with Abby. But this time I was worried. I didn't know how my heart was going to handle getting a kid out when it was barely handling the very little I could manage to do with a 3, almost 4, year old. I didn't tell anyone I was worried about it. I told my mom what it would do but never how completely terrified I was.
Finally it was the day before we were to go to the hospital. I was sooooo happy and relieved it was almost over. And then my phone rang. It was my doctors office calling. I thought they were calling to remind me that I was supposed to be at the hospital at 5am to get ready to be induced. Like I could possibly forget that. haha I answered it fully anticipating that it was going to be a recording telling me when, where, and how. What I didn't expect was to hear my doctor on the other end. She asked how I was doing and I said I was ready for the morning. And then she asked if I would like to come in that night (Sunday night!!!) to start the induction process early by doing something a little extra. Well of course I was not turning that down. Anything to hurry that process sounded GREAT!
When we got to the hospital they hooked me up (after 5 VERY painful tries, 4 blown veins, and an infiltration) to the IV and got my fluids started. Once again I was slightly dehydrated so they kept me hooked up all night. They gave me a cervadil to help get my "stuff" ready to have that baby! Every time a new nurse came in they asked me about my "heart condition" and everyone would freak out. It was actually quite comical if they wouldn't have been making me more freaked out every time someone asked why I wasn't seeing a cardiologist or taking meds. I am guessing your heart rate trying to match the babies is NOT a good idea?
At 2:30am I started having contractions. Not bad enough to make you cry, just bad enough to not let me sleep very well. I asked for Tylenol and the nurse said no. I was ready to cry then. She said it wouldn't help so if they got over a 4 in pain to call her and she would give me a shot of Staydol. I didn't call her because I got annoyed. Plus they weren't too bad. See...I can do pain...haha
They started my Pitocin at 5am. They told me they would have the anesthesiologist come in at 7:30am and give me my epidural and came to see how I was doing at about 6:45. I was READY for that epidural by then and she said she ordered it. The changing of the guard happened at 7:30...and I was crying and waiting and praying I could just make it the few seconds I thought I had, without completely losing it and bawling. Then my new nurse, who's name was Ashlee, came in, threw a huge fit about the mess my IV cords were in, the mess the night nurses had left me and the room in, and I knew she was going to be my angel. She asked me how I was doing, and I was handling it ok. The contractions were about a 6 consistently and 7-8 every once in a while...I could do this until he got there. She looked and guess what....Night nurse Teresa didn't order my epidural. I did cry then. But Ashlee found him and he was doing one right across the hall and would came as soon as he was done. I have no idea how long that was. I just know I was doing my best not to cry and not to lose it. Then he was there. I think it must be a prerequisite for Anesthesiologist's to be tall dark and handsome (even if they are old), or maybe that is just what you see when they come in and rescue you from the pain. Either way...I don't mind. He did his magic. It took a few minutes and the pain started going away slowly. What a relief. I was only at a 1 (barely) and the baby was still way high up and not coming down anytime soon. But I wasn't hurting so bad and decided if they just cut her out I was good with that. I had to be on Oxygen because my placenta was not working right and the baby's heart wasn't doing so good because of it. Mine went WAY up and hers went down. Go figure. The oxygen worked though and all was good.
About 2:30pm the contractions started hurting again. All on my left side and slowly the pain was getting worse and worse until I could no longer hold back the tears. My mom called the nurse in and she gave me a bolus of the epidural and that helped some. About an hour later they started coming back again. Now, this whole time I had been rolling from my left to my right side trying to help get baby to come down. I was at a 7 when they started hurting so bad and I was on my left side. The baby was hiding from the monitors and they kept having to come and move them and she didn't like that. She was doing fine...just stubborn. They came in, gave me another bolus and had me roll over to my right side. That's when I absolutely could not take it anymore. I could NOT lay on that side after about 5 minutes of that and I wasn't getting a break in between the contractions, unless 30 seconds counts. My mom called the nurse back in and they checked me and I was still a 7 and the baby was still not coming down. My wonderful nurse decided to sit the bed up so I was sitting straight up and my mom and MIL said it looked like I could fall out, sat me Indian style and called "THE man" to come back and see what he could do. Once again I have no idea how long that was...but it was the longest however long of my entire life. I tried to have a conversation with the people in the room, but I don't think I did so good. And they kept all talking about me like I couldn't hear when the contractions came. Like "did you see how bad that one was", "she's not even really getting a break", "Whoa! That's a huge one!" I wanted to say "I am pretty sure I know how big it was, no I am not getting much of a break, and PLEASE someone get me something so I don't puke!" I'm not sure if I said any of that....but I was trying to! After (however long) "THE man" finally came in and gave me some extra pain meds and I have no idea what else, but wow! After about 5 minutes I was so very much better. Still sitting up Indian style but I could talk again!!! I know I asked for something to help me not throw up then. . I was trying to breath, not throw up, and be brave through the most horrible pain of my entire life (which I failed miserably at) so looking at the clock to try and remember when and how all this happened like I did with Abby was not gonna happen. My doctor came to see how I was doing at some point during all that and asked the nurse to give me something for nausea. About 20 minutes later (I'm guessing) I told my mom and Ant I was feeling like I needed to use the bathroom and I was pretty sure that meant the baby was coming NOW! The first time I was just saying it in passing...the third time my mom and mother-in-law were saying to call the nurse.
The nurse came, checked me out, told me I was complete, but that she was calling another nurse just to make sure. Another nurse came, checked me, told me to push a little and said "She's ready, call the doctor!" My doctor was there in pretty record time and they were prepping me to have the baby. I get all positioned and they check me, tell me to wait for a contraction, and then say "Push!" I did...and out came a head. No one expected that, so my doc pushed her back in, told me to wait until the nursery people got there to push again and then we all just waited. I looked at Ant because I was a little shocked and he mouthed "She's RIGHT THERE!" Once again I was quite shocked, as were my mom and mother-in-law who I asked to stay in the room too. The nursery people got there and had stuff ready and the doctor said to push again when another contraction came. And there she was....well almost. She got stuck. So the doctor had to help. I am not sure what she did. There isn't really time for questions and mirrors and such when a baby practically falls out of you. All I know is she came out, it was completely weird, and she did NOT cry. Ant cut the cord and they laid her on me while they did more gross stuff to me. She still didn't cry. I was trying really hard not to panic, but apparently they all knew she was fine even without hearing her voice because they just kept telling me that. They took her and this time I listened with all my might to hear if she was ok. When they took her she started crying a little but it sounded like she had lost her voice. It was so sad.
They weighed and measured her. A healthy 9lbs 1oz, 21 inches. I KNEW I jinxed myself with the whole "short, fat, lazy" thing. haha But I loved every single bit of those 9lbs!
So there I am, getting nasty stuff taken out of me, getting sown up, and trying my hardest to hear over the people working on me to hear what the people working on her were saying. I heard something about an eye...but Ant told me later that that was just while they were talking about the stuff they put in her eye. After they cleaned her up they gave her back to me and told me to be careful with her left arm. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what that meant, but Anthony told me that they thought something was wrong with her arm and they were going to have to xrays because she wasn't moving it. I was VERY drugged, and hardly understanding what he as saying, but I was NOT happy that yet again something was wrong with my baby.
After I got back from my surgery and Anthony brought the baby to me he told me they thought her collarbone was broken from the "having to help her out" and that they did xrays and we would know in a few hours. While I HATED that my baby was hurting and possibly broken, I was so very relived that was all it was. I was so very happy she got to stay with me and was breathing great. She was also talking. And talking, and talking, and talking. It was the most adorable thing I had ever heard. Her quiet little raspy voice just went on and on. She talked non stop for almost 48 hours. I think now that it was her way of telling us she was hurting, but it was still very very sweet.
The results came back and she was definitely broken. I cried then. I felt so awful for her. But I was still very happy that she would be ok. She would heal in about 6 weeks they said, and be good as new and no one could even tell.
Well...6 long weeks later she is thriving, happy, healthy and amazing. We have had a rough 6 weeks, but they have also been great. I will never get to have this time back and it's my last time to go through those long 6 weeks of recovery, and figuring baby out, and emotions that you can never explain. So I am thankful that while they have been rough sometimes, they have also been long days with my last baby getting to love every part of it. Sometimes when you get what you pray for it's never what you had in mind. I asked God to help me get every minute of my last baby and for it not to seem like it is going too fast, even though no matter what it will. Sometimes I wish I would stop praying for stuff because it seems like God likes to give me what I ask for...but NEVER in the easiest way. LOL But either way I am thankful for my precious baby and her big sister who I have no idea what I ever did without.
Maybe later I'll tell the story of my tubes being tied, but since this is about my baby with a 100 names (And they are Makenzy. Kenzy, Kenzy Grace, Gracey, Mac, Kenzy-kenz, Sissy, Sister, stinky, and Chubby Bug to name a few) I figured I would leave that part out. =)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)