Thank You, God

For baby breaths--hot, humid puffs of air against my neck, born by a slumbering babe snuggled into my chest.
For deep wrinkles in stretched skin, and a scar across my lower abdomen--a visible reminder of the three miracles I carried, and of the great technology and amazing doctors who helped us safely welcome them to this side of my belly button.
For sunshine and the warmth it brings, no matter the ambient temperature.
For an incredible partner, lover, husband, friend; Raleigh, you are my rock and I love you!
For pomegranates and the burst of juicy goodness each aril makes as it pops in my mouth.
For my Daddy, the world's strongest man and the first one I ever loved. He carried me on his shoulders, kissed my cheeks, and taught me how to properly wield a hammer, and now, for the opportunity to watch him dote, carry, kiss, and love on my boys.
For time; each minute I am blessed to draw breath, experience life, and BE.
For free will, forgivness, and the love of a heavenly Father that is deep beyond comprehension.
For the sparkle in the bright blue eyes of an almost two-year old, whose "Mama" can melt my heart even when throwing the biggest of tantrums.
For little piles of potting soil and garden rocks ground into the carpet, greasy handprints on freshly washed window panes, and chunks of half-eaten food stuck to the bottom of my socks--signs that I have active little people underfoot, everyday.
For naptime, whenever I'm blessed to partake.
For our home, a humble (and oftentimes cramped) abode that keeps us warm and dry, that holds our tears and laughter, and in some ways, has symbolically held the heart of our little family steady while chaos swirls wildly.
For my Mom, the always unpredictable/good for a laugh/heart of gold/tell-it-like-it-is force that has taught me to be strong in the face of adversity while loving with all I have.
For health--my own and this year especially, that of my family and those I love.
For healing in all forms.
For the soft touch of my pillow against my face, in a bed that I wish I could spend more time in.
For rainbows.
For letters and cards, handwritten or otherwise--gifts that touch the heart simply because someone took the time to send them.
For my husband's culinary talents and mechanical smarts; I am one lucky lady!
For my youngest born, whose spirit is like fire in more ways than one, and whose heart--both literal and figurative--has already taught so many of us so much.
For the annoying buzz of the alarm, reminding me that despite the early hour, I have an outlet to express my talents in a way that helps others and from which I can earn pay and help support our family.
For the piles and piles and piles of laundry I wash and dry, as we have plenty of clothing to keep us fitted and warm.
(And on that note, for the technology of the washing machine, dryer, and dishwasher!)
For the three-toothed smile of the oldest twin, whose joy is indisputable and deep giggle contagious.
For rain and  the cleansing it brings.
For hot chocolate and snuggles beside the fireplace.
For Wednesdays, the "extra" day each week I get to delight in my children without the distraction of work. 

For the love and support of family and friends, who remind us we are never alone, ever.
For light.
For love.
For everything . . . I am so blessed.

"Advice"

One of my dearest friends is soon to give birth to her second child. As she  approaches his/her (still unknown) birthday, I asked what I could for her to support her pre-baby. Although I was thinking she'd request pre-made meals, diapers, laundry (or something of the sort), she insisted that all I give her is--advice.  Specifically, she asked me to share my "thoughts, tips and tricks" to having more than one child at home.

"What a silly idea," I thought.  "Who in the world am I to give advice on parenting?!  I'm still learning for myself and most days, wonder if I'm even close to getting this right!"

She was a HUGE support to me when I was pregnant with Blake (since she had recently been pregnant with her first as well) and so I felt like although I probably could "do" something more helpful to support her in getting ready for baby #2, I would kindly accomodate her request and share with her what I know.  (As if I am an expert, HARDLY!)  Yet since SO many other folks (friends and strangers alike) see us out with three little ones and ask us how we do what we do, I thought maybe others might like to see my thoughts on the matter, based on our experience.  I have thought about it a lot, and here is a summary of what I've learned this far . . .

Advice From Still-Learning, Not-So-Expert Parents of One Plus More

1. Trust your gut!

You know what you know and no one knows your kids or what works best for your family than you.  Believe that you CAN do a great job, and you will!

2. Keep moving.

Having more than one child requires that you live in almost constant motion.  Why?  Because that's what the chillins do!  In their 7 months of life I've seen the kids all take a substantial nap at the same time only a handful of times.  And now that the twins are crawling (and Blake is running), Raleigh and I are moving as fast as we can to stay one step ahead of them.  As Raleigh says, "it's like herding cats."

3. Give yourself (and your partner) much grace.

Especially in the early days of having more than one, it's easy to find yourself doing things you swore you would never do such as letting your oldest watch t.v. or sleep in your bed, eating breakfast cereal for dinner, or wearing your pajamas until bedtime.  It's not the end of the world and your children will not be ruined.  Sometimes, you just do what you need to do to make it through the day, and then start again tomorrow.

4. Here and there, INDULGE!

It took me MONTHS to carve the time out to paint my toenails after the boys were born.  And I felt like such a lady when I did, my only regret was not making the time to do it sooner.  I learned it is important to do little things here and there to treat oneself in the name of nurture.  To indulge even just a little bit can refresh the soul more than you might think.

5. It's all about . . . timing.

Whether you feel like you're going to pull your hair out or you're having a blissful I-have-this-parenting-thing-down type of day depends greatly on the timing of things.  Something as little as the timing of meals, naps, playtime, etc. make a huge difference in how your kids do during the day and how you as a parent respond.  I can still remember when this finally "clicked" for us--one day the kids were off just enough to run us ragged (Blake wanting to play at the same time I was trying to feed the twins, then needing to eat as I was trying to lay them down, etc.) and the next they were well behaved smiley angels and I didn't feel quite so stressed.  So play around with the timing of things until you find a pattern that works.  And as things flux (because they will), adjust accordingly.

6. If they all start to cry at once, take a deep breath.  Then, proceed to suggestions #1 and #2.

And if you need to cry too, it's ok.

7. Ask for help!

Chances are if you look around you, you have lots of friends and family who love you and are willing (and happy!) to lend a hand where need be, whether it's watching your kids, helping with a meal or transportation, cleaning, or just listening to you and reminding you you're doing a great job.  If you feel in need of some outside support, it's ok!  Just ask!  There is great truth to the line "it takes a village to raise a child," and this isn't more true than when you have more than one child to raise.

Give me time, and I'm sure I'll think of more "tips" to add.  Parenthood is a process and despite how easy we may make it look (I still cannot believe folks who tell us we make it look easy--ha, what a joke!), I don't think we'll ever be experts!

Why?!

Tonight I am sad, which isn't new.  But I'm also angry too, and that also is not new.  I'm afraid to say I'm getting really good at being both sad and angry . . .

So random, indeed.  And SO unfair.  Why dad?  Why now?  I mean really . . . why couldn't it be someone else?  Someone who is mean, unloving, disrespectful, violent, etc.  Someone who doesn't have any family or friends, who hates life and/or isn't going to be living it (i.e. a criminal already locked up somewhere).  Why?!

I know, I know--I sound horrible right now.  And life isn't fair.  And sometimes, bad things happen to good people.  I get it.  I've heard it before.  That still doesn't change the way I feel.  And no, I'm not wishing this on anyone else; I'm simply wishing it wasn't my dad.  MY dad.  My hero.  The first man I've ever loved.  One of my biggest fans and my boys' sweet Papa.  Why?!

I'd be lying if I said I haven't raised my head to the heavens and asked Him directly, "What do you think you're doing?!" as this reality we're living doesn't feel like we're being protected, cared for, or loved in any sensible way . . .

And yet, I cannot give up hope.  I won't.  It's literally all I have to cling onto right now, as Dad lay in ICU fighting for his life and Ethan is scheduled to undergo open heart surgery later this week.  They both HAVE to pull through this.  There's no question.  Any other alternative is not acceptable.

Which leads me to feeling sad.  And angry.  And asking why.  WHY?!

Tired

 I'm so tired.  

Yes, I'm tired of waking up in the middle of the night to tend to a screaming 18-month old whose canine teeth are working their way through the gums. But the lack of sleep is just a fraction of my problem. I am tired for other reasons as well.

More than anything, I am tired of not knowing.  Not knowing how long we get to juggle schedules and rush, rush, rush to squeeze in every moment with dad as we can while still attending to work and other obligations, simply because I'm not sure if each kiss I plant on his forehead or hand and/or whispered "I love you" will be my last.  Not knowing if dad will recover, either physically or mentally, or both.  Not knowing if he'll wake up.  And if he does wake up, what will life look like?  Will he know who we are? Will he have the same witty sense of humor, same prankster spirit?  

Even if he regains all his functions and is the dad we remember and love, it will be MONTHS before he'll be able to do what he used to, if at all.  WNV takes it out of you, and even for very healthy individuals who have minimal medical interference to help them fight the virus, the weakness and fatigue that lingers takes many months to many years even, to resolve.

And if I'm this tired already, I cannot imagine how much harder this is going to get.  Ethan's surgery is next week and what we're dealing with now is in some ways about to multiply.  Even just thinking ahead makes me nauseous, as I cannot comprehend the number of balls I'll have to juggle while not gaining any more hands.  The fire is raging and I have no choice but to walk through it.

Sigh.  Ready?  No.  BUT . . ready?  Go.

I'm tired.

Perfectly Perfect and Still in Need of Prayers

As I look at my sweet Ethan tonight, I find it hard to envision how his little heart is just not working as it should--he is so perfect in our eyes! Today's echo confirmed the positive growth seen last month was short lived, as the hole in Ethan's heart remains and does not appear to be closing. It is no longer smart to "wait it out" in hopes that things change. Surgery will occur within the next two months. 

Thank you for the prayers...this momma (and her boy) really need them!

Today's Lesson

Today Blake learned two very important anatomy lessons while taking a bath with his brothers...
1. "Gentle" still (very much) applies when belly button exploring, and
2. The only penis we are allowed to touch is our own.

Thankfully, he is a quick learner.

And back down . . .

So after yesterday's good news, today's less-than-good news tastes more than bitter. 

Ethan will need open heart surgery to repair the hole in his heart; it is simply not healing on its own and the increasing weight difference between the twins (currently 1.5 lbs) is too much to ignore. Surgery will be in approximately one month.

Sigh.

All day I have been fighting all sorts of feelings about this, and am doing my best to remain both grateful and positive, which has proven more challenging than one might think.

Continued prayers for our tribe are much appreciated...

Blake's Brain--the results are in!

For those who have been following our family since God blessed us with our first son...

So today was our boys' 2 month check up. Carson weighs just over 10 lbs, which is a gain of about 4 lbs in 6 weeks. All looks good for him! Ethan weighs 8.5 lbs, which is a little less than 3 lbs in the same timeframe. All is good for him too, although his growth is definitely slower since he doesn't eat as much as his brother due to VSD tiring him out during feedings. Checked his oxygen level, which is fine, so good there. He has an echocardiogram tomorrow, which hopefully will tell us more on whether or not the hole in his little heart is closing on its own or not (gulp).

In other news . . . DRUM ROLL PLEASE . . . Blake's one-year follow up MRI results are in and all but one of the spots that were "never going to go away" are gone!! In fact, all spots in the critical language center of his brain have disappeared! The lone spot remaining is on the side of the brain, smaller in size than before (only 4 mm), and now characterized not as dead tissue but as "high density white matter" which can sometimes exist in folks without previous injury. Our God is an AWESOME God and Blake proves to be a miracle again! A perfect little head on our perfect little boy! 

Now for those angels to heal Ethan's heart so he can catch back up to Carson in size and remain healthy and happy . . .

Thank you to everyone for your prayers; keep them coming!!

Boy Smells

Raleigh: Did you notice that Carson already smells like 'boy'?

Me: What?! 'Boy'?!

Raleigh: Yeah, 'boy'. If we don't give him a bath at night, he smells like 'boy'. Here . . . (He lifts Carson's head to my face, at which point in time I give a quick sniff over.)

Me: That's 'boy' smell?

Raleigh: Yup. (As he issues me a quick proud papa smile.)

Me: Well then, I guess I have a lot more of that to look forward to, don't I?

Here's to a lifetime of 'boy' smells, and all that comes with it. :)

I choose...

Laundry.
Dishes.
Write Thank You notes.
Sort mail.
Work on journals/baby books.
Upload and order photographs.
Organize baby gear and hand-me-down clothing.

I have SO much to do.  Really, the list is quite exhausting.

Yet instead of any of these, I choose to hold my babies.  Stroke their hair.  Trace my finger over their soft cheeks, and lay a gentle kiss upon each one.  Soak in each moment of this never-to-be-repeated day in their babyhood.

I choose to sit on the floor with Blake midday, barefoot and in our pajamas, and stack blocks as quickly as possible before he knocks them to the floor.  To delight in his boyish giggle and that irresistible toothy smile.  To remember how happy he is to simply have me here, playing with him.

I choose to breathe deeply, and remember that today is just one day.  One day, that I will never get to see again.  So take it in, I will.
Everything else can wait.

Outnumbered

It's happened.  We're officially outnumbered.  :)

At 10:19a on Saturday, February 16th Carson Matthew Elstun was born.  One minute later, his brother Ethan Joseph made his way into this world.  Both boys weighed in over 5 lbs each (Carson at 5 lbs 6 oz and Ethan at 5 lbs and 1 oz) and let us know how healthy they were by crying often and LOUD from the moment they made it to this side of my belly button.  (In fact, at one point, both kids were crying in unison!  Raleigh's got a great video/recording of that!)  They were so healthy in fact, that their APGAR scores were 8/9 and 7/8 respectively; we were/are so proud and happy!

And because the boys were doing so wonderful, they got to stay with me/us the entire time after birth--no NICU visit!  They roomed with us in the Mother/Baby Unit and were discharged with me on Tuesday, February 19th.  Hooray!

Besides having normal pre-surgery jitters and a reasonable amount of anxiety related to what life may look like once the boys were born, the only scare we had was at the end of our hospital stay when we learned that Ethan's heart murmur is caused by a moderate-sized VSD which will need some follow-up.  Other than that, we experienced peace and calm and general happiness that we weren't so lucky to experience during Blake's birth.  What a blessing that our "high-risk" pregnancy and delivery was smoother than most everyone (including our doctors) could have guessed.

Still, now that we're on the back side of that part of the process, I surmise that ease we experienced was to make up for the double amount of work that it's taken at home, transitioning to a family of five.  Because believe you me, it's been a LOT of work and Raleigh and I have been seriously challenged, sometimes feeling like we're barely surviving...

Clash of the Schedules:  Babies need to eat every 2-3 hours.  I pump after nursing in order to increase my milk production, and provide bottles for the boys to eat at night (saving time when I'd rather be sleeping).  Blake naps twice per day very much on schedule and is in bed by a certain time each night.  Making sure I have the kids awake at the right time so that Blake can still get his naps in (and get to bed every evening) and the boys can eat on time has been tough.  Add in time for pumping and the desire to still get on the floor and play with Blake when I can, and there isn't much time for anything else.  Hopefully we'll continue to fine-tune the daily schedule until we find a groove that flows.

Teething and Nighttime Feedings:  It's truly a bummer when you are up every 2 hours to feed (and/or pump) throughout the night, only to have your one year old wake up screaming right as you crawl into bed because his mouth hurts due to incoming teeth.  It's a double bummer when he then refuses to go to bed for two more hours because, well . . . he can.  Bottom line--there's no good time for teething; especially with newborn twins at home.

Big Brother Blake: We're still working on "gentle", although he's really doing quite great.  He loves to kiss his brothers (see below for image of the adorable act) and yet can get carried away with "patting" their heads and faces.  (Aren't newborn eyes so irresistible to poke at?!)  He also can still be a bit clingy at times, wanting to be held exactly at the same moment that we are busy feeding his brothers--sometimes with pant-clinging tendencies.  Many times, once we're done with them, he's more than content to play on his own.

It's My Party and I'll Cry if I Want To: There's nothing worse than when both twins and/or both twins AND Blake are all crying and want attention NOW.  How's a good mom/dad supposed to choose?  (Usually this circumstance results in mom crying too.)

I'm a Milking Machine: At least it feels like it.  Two out of every three hours I'm either nursing the twins, pumping, or feeding them a bottle of expressed breast milk.  No wonder I feel like I resemble the black and white animals from Grandpa Simon's dairy farm!

Hormone City: Yes, coming down from twice as many hormones running through my body is twice as evident as it was when I was post-partum from a singleton birth.  Thank God Raleigh believes I'm not going to stay this way and as far as I know, hasn't yet packed any bags.

Despite the above, we are incredibly happy and grateful to have three amazing, beautiful, and healthy boys.  Team E^5 will prevail and soon (I hope), be thriving once again!

Please continue to pray for our family:

• That we continue to make this transition to a family of five with much grace and love...and patience--with ourselves and our children.
• For Ethan's heart, that it heals itself and requires no surgery or other medical treatment.
• For Blake's brain, that the upcoming MRI (to check on things since it's now been a year after his traumatic birth) reveals that everything is working perfectly and (God-willing), that there is no evidence of any of those infant infarcts!
• That we are able to find great child care for our kiddos for my return back to work, and soon!

A Love Note?

Blake crawls all over the place now, and his hands are on anything he can reach.  Every day he spends some time in our bedroom, as Raleigh and I are getting ready in the morning, putting away clothes, or preparing for bedtime at night.  He checks out our closet, inspects any baskets or bags on the floor, stands at the middle drawer in our master bathroom (and pulls out what bottles/containers he can reach), etc.  He literally is EVERYWHERE.

One of his regular stops is the little bookshelf in the corner of the bedroom, next to (generally) my side of the bed.  For weeks he's pulled out several books (which I lovingly put back into place once he's done), thumbed through them, and left them on the floor.

But lately . . . it's only been one book he's pulled out and left.  And once he pulls it, he seems to be satisfied and moves on his trek across the rest of our space.  He doesn't flip through the pages or attempt to rip off the cover.  He just pulls it out and moves on.

I had noticed I'd been putting the same book back for over a week now, but really didn't put much thought into it.  That is, until Raleigh said something last night as we were preparing for bed, and he had picked up the book from the floor.

"Have you noticed that Blake's only been pulling this book lately, In the Arms of Angels?"

"Yeah," I said, stopping to think about it.  "That was the book I took with me to South Dakota and read to Grandma just a few weeks before she flew away."  (The book is a collection of real-life stories of folks who believe they've encountered angels here on Earth.  Click here to read about the amazing story about Grandma when she flew away--a miracle in its own right!)

"I know," he said.  "I just wonder if she or God is trying to tell us something."

---

So this morning as Blake is wandering around the room and I'm doing my thing getting dressed and ready for the day, my eye catches as he wanders to the bookshelf and without thinking, pulls the book from the shelf, places it on the floor behind him, and then quickly crawls away.

I sit down on the floor, slide him next to me, and ask him why he keeps choosing to check out this special book.

"Is there a particular section you want me to read?" I ask.  He stares at me with big eyes, pacifier in his mouth, turns and travels on.  "Ok," I thought, "maybe not."

I went ahead and opened the book somewhere in the middle, and began reading.  Here are the first words that I see/read: 

There is an old saying that before a baby is born,

God kisses its soul.

And as its guardian angel bears it earthward to its little body,

he sings.

Is there, in my subconscious self,

still a dim memory of that kiss,

a faint echo of that song?

That's it.  I could read no more.  My eyes were brimming with tears.

Especially once I became pregnant with Blake (which was only a  few weeks after she left us), I've felt that Grandma Ruth was definitely watching over us (and him specifically) as one of his guardian angels.  And I felt her presence more than I can tell you when we watched over his little body as he lay on the cooling bed in the NICU, unsure of what the future held for our family.  And now, as I prepare to welcome two more (and still unsure of many things), I often talk to her, certain that she is watching over her next two great-grandsons as well.

I don't know exactly what she may be attempting to tell me, other than "Yes, we are here . . ." But even that--as we enter these last couple weeks and face all sorts of fears and uncertainty, as we work to hold onto faith and hope that all will be well--is a great message of great love.  We are not alone in this journey, and of THAT I am most certain.

The hardest part . . .

What can I say? We are BLOWN AWAY.

When we found out we were expecting twins, we of course immediately started thinking of all that we would need in order to adequately prepare ourselves and our home for the addition of two more Elstuns. And as I've mentioned before, we were scared. Caring for one child is challenging enough, but two more? And so soon? Could we really do it? With regards to finances specifically, would we really be ok?

In so many ways, it felt like God was giving us more than we would be able to handle.

So when we announced we were expecting twins, we were both humbled and surprised at the outpouring of support we have received . . . and without us even asking!

Diaper drives and a double stroller fund. Hand-me-down clothes and crib sheets. Cash. Gift cards. Promises of meals post-babies (this is Raleigh's favorite!). New clothes and toys. Coupons. Beautiful cards of well wishes and offers to come over and help with laundry, cooking, cleaning, babysitting . . . whatever we need. (Even a secret "help-keep-Kim-off-her-feet-and-keep-these-boys-cooking" campaign orchestrated by my loving husband.) Even very thoughtful gifts to include Blake, in celebration of him becoming an older brother.

We've received gifts from family, from friends, from friends of friends, from coworkers, from Blake's current day care provider, from complete strangers even (truly--people we've never even heard of!).

All that being said, why is receiving gifts/support sometimes so difficult?

• My cousin offered to host a "shower by mail" for out of town family and friends. I said she didn't have to, yet she did anyways.
• Some of my coworkers have insisted on throwing me a shower for the boys, however I adamantly refused. Finally talking them down to a "sprinkle" to be held during an already-scheduled community lunch hour, they've agreed (but have lovingly told me to "get over" their refusal of my request for a "downplayed" celebration).
• I've caught myself answering folks' offers for help or gifts with "Oh, you don't have to do that!" or "That's so sweet of you, but we'll be ok . . ." as if my polite rejection of their kind offer will somehow spare them a burden of doing something they want to . . . (silly, huh?).

We've said "thank you" and are genuinely grateful for all that folks are doing for us (trust me, it does relieve some of the feelings of overwhelm we've quickly become accustomed to), yet Raleigh and I have agreed--this is hard. RECEIVING support can be hard and has definitely made us uncomfortable on a variety of levels. But why?

I cannot tell if it is a worthiness thing (we feel like we are undeserving of such attention and acts of great love), or if it is a guilt thing (knowing we just did this a year ago for Blake's birth), or if it's something else?

We are usually on the giving end of the equation, and find great joy in that (even when we give anonymously); it's just who we are and what we believe. To find ourselves on the other end has been quite a change though, and truly, we have been humbled. This is a growing process for sure, and there is no doubt we are loved.

Sigh. So continue on we will, and are grateful for all that comes our way. And as difficult as it may be, we will work to intentionally push aside any thoughts that discount our worthiness to receive anything given to us by those who love and care for our family.

Sometimes, that can be the hardest part . . .

So in an effort to embrace that plan (despite my difficulty in doing so), here goes--the ask: We still want (and need) support.

First and foremost, we need prayers. For the boys to continue growing well inside my belly until week 37 (which starts on 2/15), when they can be born healthy and strong via a delivery process that is smooth and perfect as well.  (I have had a few contractions over the past few days, and realize it's my body's way of telling me to SLOW DOWN.  Prayers that I do this well, as that's not something a go-getter like me often does naturally.)

For help. I have NO IDEA what it will look like to have newborn twins at home, and am not really sure if I can "prepare" for that reality. I think in some ways, we'll just have to figure it out as we live through it, and appreciate the offers (and follow-through!) of those who are willing to walk alongside us during that time as well. (One specific request I know we'll have--which was VERY helpful after we came home with Blake--was prepared meals for us to eat, so we didn't have to spend too much time in the kitchen or at the grocery store. Raleigh in particular is hoping we will be blessed as well as we were last time in this area!)

Whew!  I did it!  :)

Now to continue to rest and be grateful for (and welcome with open arms) all the gifts/blessings we have in our lives--people like YOU included!

Soaking up Blake

So we're less than 3 weeks away from "full term," and when our twin boys will be born into this world.  We're still figuring out how we'd like that to look, assuming all goes according to plan--(more on that in a separate post later)--however know that our time as a family of three is quickly coming to a close.  As excited as I am to meet the next two members of our family, thinking of the transition is a bittersweet one.

My time with Blake as an only child is down to a number of days, and I don't want to miss anything.  I just want to soak up every little bit of him I can, hold it close to my heart, and remember it forever.  These days will never be again, and soon, Blake won't be the only little boy to have a piece of my heart and/or need/want my attention. 

Not only do I have fears of letting him down in someway (I don't remember when I became a big sister, but have been told numerous times of how I was caught stepping on my brother's back several times shortly after he came home--so I can only imagine I was in some way struggling with the new little attention-getter that had invaded my space), but I also am grieving the loss of how life might be with him as an only child until the age of 2 or more, as Raleigh and I had imagined in our heads.  We will do all that we can to celebrate him individually and encourage his growth accordingly, but are realistic enough to know some things we'd expected to see or do with him might not happen (at least in the same way as we had originally envisioned).  Pregnancy so soon--with twins--has definitely been a game-changer.

I don't want to be too distracted with two more children so as to miss something important in his life.  I don't want him to feel second (or third) best, or really, anything less than the incredible son who is loved beyond words as he is now, just because we have two more little guys living under our roof.

I know, I know . . . "he's so little he won't know any different."  And maybe as a 5 or 10 or 30 year old, that will be true.  But I know--and as his mother I mean I know--he WILL know something is happening and he will sense a difference, even if he doesn't remember it later.  Three weeks from now, life in our family will NOT be the same.  He may just not be able to tell us with words how he feels.  And I so very much want to this adventure to be one that not only has a happy ending, but a happy journey to the ending as well.  And I don't want Blake to feel caught in the middle.

The clock is ticking, and there's still much to be done.  So, I'm taking this time to soak him up and delight in everything he is and everything he's becoming--including a big brother to twins.  I'm finding that the laundry is piling up as I play with Blake on the floor--guilt free.  I'm trading the logical and oh-so-necessary task of organizing for the fine art of making a mess (toys, dishes, blankets--anything we play with, really).  I'm spending my time singing silly songs and making funny noises, stretching out pre-nap and pre-bed rituals just to enjoy a little extra time with him, letting him sleep on my chest longer than usual before laying him in his crib, reading more stories than is generally allotted before bedtime, etc.  I want him to always know he is special and loved, no matter how many children we have.  And I'm not going to let the next three weeks pass without enjoying what I can of my time with him, and vise-versa.  These days are special.

In sharing these thoughts with a friend recently, I was reminded that for a little while, it may be divided attention, but it will never be divided love.  And the fundamental basis to that is that love does not divide--it multiplies.  That's it.  And in our family, it will multiply exponentially as we welcome two more little ones at once, growing from a family with one beautiful boy to three!  Knowing how much love we have surging through our circle already, it's difficult to imagine how much will abound and flow through our family then!

Here's to 3 full weeks (and not a moment less, God-willing) of soaking up Blake and delighting in his being.  AND . . . once the next two boys are here, continuing that practice . . . in just a slightly different way.

Blake enjoying his birthday cake.  

(We celebrated about a month early to ensure he got to feel as loved and special as he is, knowing that on his actual birthday he will have two little brothers to celebrate with him as well!)

Beautiful

I feel like I am as heavy as a whale. I waddle like a duck. I am about as quick as a turtle and roll over as easily as one too. My clothes don't fit well and my ankles have morphed into large sausage-like rolls that extend from my calves to my toes. The stretch marks across my belly are deep red and purple and my belly button is inverted halfway, oddly visible through the front of my clothes. I breathe heavy doing, well...nearly anything, and feel exhausted most of the time. Some days I don't even feel human, let alone pretty.

And yet every day--every single day--I am reminded of this reality, of how I look:
Adorable. Cute. Pretty. Flickin' Hot. Sexy. Beautiful.
He says it with words, he shows me with gestures. I may complain about this or that ("My hips are so wide!" or "How ugly are my cankles?!" or "I look incredibly large in this shirt."), however his response is the same, and I am reminded of how beautiful I am--even now--when I often feel anything but.

Now THAT is beautiful. And so am I.

Thank you, it's true. :)

TRUST.

2013.  It's a new year.  With new possibilities, new life, new love.  A chance to begin again and a chance to continue on.

Whether we like it or not, it will be everything we create it to be.  I've learned that's just how life works, and have embraced this idea (somewhat reluctantly at times) to help me adjust my attitude accordingly.  Do I want things to be difficult or easy?  Do I want to focus on all the beautiful and good I have before and around me, or just the pain and hardships?  (Give this one a shot, and you'll find you'll experience more of what you focus on, whether it's something you want or not.)  Do I want more of the same, or something completely different?  It's largely my choice, and how I choose to perceive and respond to any given situation.

So in thinking about this upcoming year, what do I want it to look like?  Lord knows we have a lot on our plate and in many ways, I'm downright terrified.  There are so many questions we don't have answers to, and so many "plans" that--since they remain in the future--remain unfulfilled.  And we know better than anyone that plans don't always work out as originally intended, and have therefore transformed our expectations into hopes--wishes for the future with great prayers backing each thought of how I'd like it to be.

2013.  What do I want to experience?  How do I want to feel?  How do I want to be?

Inspired by a friend's blog (http://www.inwardboundco.com/?p=1478) I decided to choose a word for this year, something that I could intentionally practice, that if I was more of, could/would support me in experiencing more of what I want to experience this year.  I thought of a word right away, yet chewed on it for awhile before making it official.  My word, for 2013: TRUST.

Trust God, that He truly knows what's best for me and my family this year (because it's His plan that's underway!), and will lead us in the right direction all the way around.  That He will provide for us, and remind us how much we are loved regardless of what may lie ahead.

Trust myself, that I will make good choices and do all that I need to for the well-being of myself and my family.

Trust Raleigh, that he will do the same on his end and that even when I cannot control certain pieces, he will manage what he can and things will be taken care of as needed.

Trust the doctors, that they support me in keeping our babies healthy through a full term pregnancy, and assist us in a smooth delivery of two healthy and strong baby boys.  And that if any situation presents itself that needs their expertise and knowledge to support us in making a decision about our care, that they will be able to guide us well, with great compassion and love.

Trust that we'll find adequate caregivers at the right time, to care not only for Blake, but his two brothers as well.  (Suggestions welcome!)

Trust that we'll financially be able to pull this off, and not only provide for our family of five with ease, but continue to share our blessings with others less fortunate.

Trust that others mean what they say, when they say it; believing offers of help and support from others are genuine and coming from the heart, versus being said out of obligation or because "that's just what you do".  And trust that when I accept these offers, I am not damaging the relationship with these folks and/or perpetuating any feelings of resentment or ingratitude.

TRUST . . . it is a daily challenge to live this word, and yet when I have done so wholeheartedly, have already seen great results.  Here's to more of it in the days, weeks, and months to come!