31 Weeks

It's been a long time since the last blog update, but I have an excuse...

I'm tired.

My work schedule is exactly the same as it was last school year, but seems exponentially more difficult. I go to a preschool in the mornings, work from 8-12, come home for lunch, then head to my afternoon job where I work from 2:45 to 5:45 running an after-school program.  Pre-pregnancy I was running 4 miles on my lunch break, showering, and eating and was on my way out the door by 2:20. It was no problem to run errands after work or to have the energy to cook dinner when I got home....but pre-pregnancy and 8 months pregnant are two very different things. 

Now, if I want to run errands, grocery shop, or clean the house, it has to happen between jobs. I'm too tired and my feet are so swollen that additional standing is out of the question. Most days I try to get dinner ready mid-day and almost every week requires planning so that I can get everything done. For instance, yesterday after eating lunch I exchanged things at Target and went to Hobby Lobby before the afternoon job. Today, I stayed home and cleaned, put up baby gifts, and caught up on thank you notes because I knew that this evening we were going straight to childbirth class. 

So that's my excuse for the lack of blogging....by the time I reach the end of the day, I am so worn out that I just haven't made it a priority to sit and blog. But since my grandma asked when in the world I was finally going to blog, I thought I would make sure it got done tonight. (Sorry Grandma!)

Lots of pregnancy fun has been had around here...we had a wonderful shower at the church a few weeks ago. The church blew Scott and I away with the love and generosity that they showed us--we are so blessed to serve at our church! The nursery is in a state of limbo...the crib is assembled but the mattress is propped against it still in the wrapping. Clothes have been organized in piles but the dresser still needs to be painted and moved upstairs (hopefully this will happen this week!) We traveled home to Birmingham this past weekend where my sister and mother hosted a lovely little shower with family and friends. It was so nice to see my grandparents and spend the weekend with friends that I rarely get to see. We came home loaded down with goodies and an antique dresser (my grandmothers from when she was little) for the nursery.

 

And here I am at 30 weeks. I haven't taken many photos of myself pregnant because, to be completely honest, I don't really love the way I look. I hope that doesn't sound terrible--I am very aware of the fact that pregnancy is a gift and a blessing--but I'm 5 feet tall. I don't carry as gracefully as some of my taller friends, but that's okay. I know this too shall pass and soon we'll be holding our little girl instead of watching her roll around in my belly every night. 

I still haven't written about our Thanksgiving plans and my ideas for some unconventional Christmas decorating, but that can wait. I'm going to prop up my swollen feet and try to sleep!

Pregnancy Confessions, Part 1

Today officially marks the beginning of the sixth month....with four (give or take) more to go. I didn't know that technically pregnancy lasted 10 months until I was in my twenties. I mean, 9 months doesn't sound that bad. But 10 months? THATS ALMOST AN ENTIRE YEAR. That changes everything. I realize I'm being dramatic, but I never truly understood how long pregnancy is until I began experiencing it. (duh).  

19 weeks....today marks 22 weeks. 

But it's okay...I'm thankful. I haven't forgotten the days and weeks and months of not being pregnant and wondering if I was ever going to be able to sustain a healthy pregnancy. I guess I'm just going through what I'm hoping is a normal realization that every first-time mother experiences: things are a changin'.  Big time. 

Simple things are more difficult....like shaving my legs. Sleeping comfortably. Bending. Looking at my toes. Finding clothes each morning that fit AND match. But really, I'm learning that in every small thing that is more difficult and different there is still so much room to be thankful. 

So because I don't feel like cooking tonight, I'm going to go eat a bowl of cereal for dinner. And then sweep and mop my kitchen. Or iron some clothes. But definitely not both. :) 

Walking Together Ministries

Our former pastor, Wyman, is a wonderful pastor, preacher, and writer. I linked to his blog today  because: 1. His blog is fantastic and 2. I think that his words best reflect my personal response regarding the Koran burning controversy. I believe that his is an incredibly well-written, Biblical, and intelligent response to this sad event. Check it out! 

Well said Wyman! 

Walking Together Ministries

It's A.....

....GIRL!!!

We are so excited. (please forgive these photos...they are pictures of pictures. We don't own a scanner) During our ultrasound, little one was being quite squirmy and after a few minutes we finally got the right angle. The ultrasound tech froze the image and asked us if we had any guesses...neither Scott nor I did since neither one of us knew what we were looking at. She said, "It's a girl!" and I immediately got teary....seeing that little baby and knowing that was our tiny little girl made me so thankful. God is so good. And we CANNOT WAIT to meet her! 

Look at that little face! I love the nose. 

And her feet...she's breech right now, feet down, so we got lots of good shots of her feet and toes. I hope she plans on turning her little self around but the ultrasound tech said she has plenty of time and should turn on her own. 

Face forward shot, legs and arms tucked in. 

I might be a little biased but I think she's beautiful! :) 

One of the many projects on my list of things to do before baby girl arrives was to paint the living room. We had been putting it off since the built-ins on two walls were not going to be fun to paint around...but we buckled down and got it done Saturday with no problems. (And don't worry, I wore a painters mask. I couldn't breathe through the thing, yet alone smell any fumes.)

Above shot is the final product, minus the shelves in the built-ins. 

We used a left-over can of primer left in the garage by the previous owners.

And we used left-over paint from when we moved into the house.

We were able to paint the living room for the cost of some drop-cloths and a painters mask. We had the exact amount of paint and primer needed to complete the project. I was so excited we didn't have to spend more than $20...God is so good to care about even the most trivial things!

What do you think? We went from bright red to neutral on the walls and a slightly darker "milk chocolate" inside the built-in walls. We wanted to "open up" the living room and I think it worked! Even Scott has said several times that he likes the new colors. (And he typically doesn't get too involved with the decorating and color decisions.)

And for the sake of keeping it real....

I thought I would share this. 

I washed a load of old towels and rags last week. I noticed they smelled HORRIBLE even after washing. So I washed  them again. They still smelled bad. I began unloading them into the dryer (hoping a dryer sheet would help the smell) when I noticed a little visitor under the towel. I had washed the poor thing TWICE! He was quite dead but Scott was still gracious to fish him out of the washing machine. I was mortified. I WASHED A LIZARD IN MY WASHING MACHINE. And I didn't even know it...I don't know which is worse. I have no clue how he got there but he did. At least he was clean when he died! A cycle of hot water with some bleach and the washer was good as new, no lingering lizard stank.

The Battle of the Stank

"Stanky" was not always a word that was in our vocabulary but thanks to one of my funny little pre-schoolers, it's a word we now throw around quite frequently. Last school year he went through a phase where everything was stanky instead of stinky: "You stanky," "I'm stanky," "It stanks in here," etc. 

A few weeks ago Scott walked into the living room, wrinkled his nose, and said, "It's stanky in here!"  He was right. I had been smelling something for a few days but I hadn't said anything. I though maybe it was my pregnancy hormones causing me to smell a non-existent smell, but I was wrong.  After some searching we discovered the source of the stank: the rug. I was horrified because it didn't take us long to realize that our dogs had been relieving themselves on our rug. I was even more horrified to realize that since we keep the dogs outside when we aren't at home, it had to be happening while we were there!

At first we thought that maybe one of our two dogs might be sick. They both have been house-broken for years and it was very unusual for them to do something like this. So we took them to the vet for their check-ups and made sure we talked to her about our little problem that we had been having. She mentioned several reasons why a house-broken dog will suddenly begin using the bathroom inside...and the basic conclusion was that we need a doggie door.

The vet told us that often, when dogs change environments (which they have in the last year) or are too afraid to use the bathroom outside, they simply go where and when they can. After talking to the vet, it suddenly made a lot of sense. We've moved to a new house with a smaller yard in the last year. We live 10 minutes from an air force base and the sonic booms and planes terrify them. And our neighbors have some not-so-nice dogs next door. So added together, there were many times that they were too afraid to use the bathroom outside. The vet also mentioned that when dogs start using the bathroom in one place, they continue to do so as long as they can still smell their "mark," particularly on "grass like areas" like carpet and rugs. 

So Scott and I discussed what to do. I wanted to get rid of the dogs (or the one that was making the mess...and we think we know which one it is). Scott reminded me that dogs are a commitment and it's not so easy to just "send them to the farm." I didn't want a doggie door for many reasons: I thought they would drag in lots of dirt, I was afraid it wouldn't look good, I was afraid we were going to cut a hole in the door and it still not solve our problem. So I said no to the doggie door. We started blocking the dogs in the kitchen and I went to work on the rug.

I steam cleaned the rug a total of 9 times. I used enzyme cleaner and everything else I could think of, but nothing worked. And I will be honest, I was furious at the dogs. It's amazing how I allowed two animals to bring out my sin nature. And it came flying out...I begged to get rid of the dogs. I cried. I got on my hands and knees and hand scrubbed the rug with carpet cleaner. (which was while I was still having the 1st trimester nausea....ugh.) The stank wasn't going to leave. I was losing the battle, so in a last-ditch effort we rolled the rug up and placed it bottom-side up on the driveway, hoping the sun would get rid of the smell. Two days later, it still smelled so we rolled the rug up, and put it in the shed. And that's where it's been ever since. 

After a few days I finally admitted that maybe a doggie door would be best. The dogs had already ruined a rug...I didn't want them to have the rest of the house too.  Scott graciously didn't mention how he had been right all along and his granddad helped us install a doggie door last weekend. And it's been wonderful. The dogs go out when they need to (and when they aren't scared) and they don't track in much dirt. It's not tacky like I was afraid it would be and it seems that we won't be having any more problems with the stank...and the added bonus is I realized that I don't have to have a rug. I kind of like the open look of the living room now.  

On another note, we had a FREE 3-D ultrasound on Monday because of a promotion at my doctor's office. It was wonderful. It's amazing to see that tiny little life rolling and moving around. It made me so, so thankful. And it's nice to know that there's something in there and I'm not outgrowing my clothes for no reason. We weren't able to see the gender...the little thing was either rolling, showing us it's back, putting it's hand in between it's legs, or crossing it's little legs. While we do want to know if we're having a boy or girl, we were still so excited to see our little baby! We go back the 23rd for my 20 week ultrasound so we should find out then...if he or she isn't being stubborn! 

Hope

Last week, Scott and I got to hear something special. It was a tiny heart beat, beating at a strong 166 beats per minute....

....and it's our baby's heartbeat. 

We've spent much of the last year praying for that moment. Last September I went for my ten week appointment with my first pregnancy. I assumed it would be a routine visit, so Scott didn't go with me. The midwife couldn't find a heartbeat and I was whisked down the hall to the ultrasound room. I will never forget looking at that screen, knowing in my heart that there was no heartbeat. The silence in the room was overwhelming, the nurse staring at her screen for what seemed like an eternity before she said, "Mrs. K, we have a problem...." Before I had time to process what was happening, a nice nurse was holding my hand and leading me out the nurses secret exit so that I wouldn't have to march back through the waiting room sobbing. The next morning I had a D&C and my doctor reassured me that we would "be sending him baby pictures before I knew it." 

We moved two weeks after the surgery. I felt so lost. I stopped praying. I was so angry with God for allowing this to happen, especially letting it happen while we were moving. I felt empty and lonely and confused...and God took me straight to Miss E. 

We lived with Miss E, a wonderful godly lady, for the first two weeks in our new town while we were waiting to close on our new house. One morning over breakfast she and I were talking and I mentioned how I was feeling, how I felt like I didn't know how to handle the hurt I was carrying in my heart. Her response was so simple and so wise, "Get up in the morning and pray. Then go to work." 

She went on to explain that the way she has learned to grieve is to pray for the strength to get through one hour at a time and to take it one day at a time. I had no idea how to grieve...I didn't understand that God already understood my grief. I learned to pray again, and for many days and weeks my prayers were nothing more than, "Help me." And I learned that was okay. 

Months passed and we were pregnant again. And we miscarried again. And again, God took us straight to the exact person we needed. This time it was Dr. H. I woke up one morning and immediately understood what was happening. By early afternoon I was in the doctor's office, crying, in pain, and completely confused. Dr. H walks into the room because she was the one doctor that so happened to have a cancellation at that exact time. She asked if I had a doctor and I told her we were new in town and had only seen one doctor. She immediately "adopted" me as her patient. Did you know that some doctors will not do testing until after a third miscarriage? Not her. Before I left the office that day she had ordered blood testing and put me on a regimen of vitamins and baby aspirin. 

Our hearts were so heavy the next few weeks and months. Nothing abnormal was found in my blood work so we were given a brand-new list of scary words which included, "habitual aborter, genetic testing, in-vitro, secondary infertility..." 

But even through this God was so good. He gave us joy. We found laughter often lies just behind our tears and that hope can grow in our darkest times. And one of the many blessings that we have been given through all of this is that God has taken our time of grief and transformed it into the sweetest time in our marriage. 

And so when we got that positive pregnancy test in May, the first emotion I felt was hope, not fear. I thought I would be fearful and cautious or even sad. I had pictured myself tip-toeing into the bedroom and tapping Scott on the arm and quietly sharing the news with him. But God had already restored to me what the locusts had eaten...He had given me back my hope. I busted out of the bathroom and yelled Scott's name (while he was still dead asleep) at the top of my lungs and said, "I'm pregnant!" over and over. I might have even jumped on the bed once or twice. I laughed with tears streaming down my face while Scott sat there and looked confused and sleepy. 

Hope. How beautiful. 

I have hope because I have a Savior that promises difficulty in this world but freely offers peace and joy. I have hope because I have been blessed with an amazing husband, and even if we never get to hold a child in our arms and call it ours, my life with him is enough. It is full, happy, and joyful. I have hope because I know next time the Lord leads me down the hard road I have learned He goes before me and beside me. I have hope because I can say thank you for the pain, grief, and struggles we have been through.

I have hope because of that tiny, precious heartbeat and I know what a wonderful, wonderful blessing that is. I am so thankful. 

(J, I'm sure you'll read this is...I've been trying to email you for over a week to share our news but my email isn't working and won't let me send any outgoing messages. Thank you for all of  your prayers and encouragement over the last few months.) 

Happy Anniversary!

Yesterday I celebrated 3 years of marriage with the most wonderful man.... 

He is a godly man, always leading by example with a servant's heart.

He is joyful and full of laughter.

He is the most compassionate, genuine person that I have ever met.

He teaches me how to slow down, stop worrying, and "chill out." 

He is funny and has filled my life with laughter.

He cares deeply for people and genuinely hurts when others hurt.

He is kind, strong, and a true gentleman. 

He loves the Lord and gently leads me to do the same. 

He makes wise decisions for our home and our finances.  

He always lets me decide where to go to dinner. 

He is patient. 

And I love him more every day.