9 months

Happy 9 (and a half...oops) months Hannah!!  This little girl is growing up so fast!  She is so incredibly full of joy, laughing and giggling at her brothers, content to play just about anything, in LOVE with peek-a-boo and flipping upside down.  Oh, she can throw her head back in a temper tantrum with the best of them, but I love seeing that innocence in her face, the quickness with which she forgives her brothers for being mean, and the sweet joy she has in life.

Have I really not given a Hannah update since 4 months??  Wow, I knew I was a little behind, but I fully expected that I had at least shared she was sitting...Hmm.  Anyway, she's certainly changed in the months since we moved, getting in 5 (almost 6) teeth, learning to sit, crawl, pull up and cruise, feed herself finger foods.  She looks like a little chunk to me but continues to only be in the 15th percentile and still fits several of her 6 month clothes.  Naps don't come as easily as they used to, but Hannah still loves her night sleep and typically gets a good 11.5-12 hours in.  I know we are completely blessed with that as I think back on those sleepless nights with the boys.

Here are some of her monthly pics.  Poor planning with the blocks as that child will not sit still if there is a toy nearby that she might be able to chew on, so we've lost our visual markers.

6 months, last with a block...

7 months

8 months

9 months

4 months and a dress

So, Hannah turned 4 months old!  2 weeks ago...oops.  It's been a busy and hectic 2 weeks, so I'm just now getting around to writing about our sweet daughter.

The last month passed in a blur of cleaning and home showings, temper tatrums and 2 year olds, and little Hannah just hanging on for the ride.  She's still very content, happily going along wherever we end up.  She's sleeping through the night and in her very own room.  She loves sucking her thumb and will put herself back to sleep in seconds if she can find that right one.  She's still rolling to her back and is getting close to being able to roll to her belly.  If I could safely leave her on the floor without worrying about her getting trampled, she'd be much more likely to accomplish that feat.  And she has the greatest little giggle and open mouth smile.  Love it - the joy expressed by a child. <3

My past month has revolved around creating Hannah's baptism gown.  Whew.  I got the idea to search pinterest for a gown I could make about 5 weeks ago.  My thought was I would sew something lacy, but I couldn't find a pattern I liked all that much.  And let's be honest, my sewing skills are sub par at best.  I can sew a straight line, but I'd really rather someone else handle the pinning and cutting.  And then I came across this little crocheted thing, and thought, wow.  That's beautiful and I can definitely do that.  Three days later I had about 1 inch of a vertical stripe for the skirt, and knew I was in trouble.  Where to find the time to do this??  I can crank out a hat with yard in under 30 minutes.  But this dress, with the thin string...  Step 1, chain 316.  Eek.  And then came along my husband, sweet man that he is, who said "you can't finish that."  Well, I don't have a choice now, do I?? Stubborn Meghan took over and I just had to do it.  Of course I also wanted Hannah to have something special, something she could pass down to her own children one day.  I knew it was something I would have made for Reagan and I didn't want the fact that Hannah was our 4th and my days were busy to stop her from having something beautiful too.  So, for the next 5 weeks, every spare second was spent on the dress.  From the second Hannah went down until 11:30, from the time my alarm went off in the morning until kids woke up, nap times, and even while nursing Hannah, I was crocheting.  It became somewhat of a full time job at times.  But, it was finished just in time.  And our sweet daughter was baptized Sunday into God's promises.

3 Months

I cannot believe our little girl is already 3 months old.  Time has just flown by!

At the end of 3 months, I already know so much about her.  How she likes to be swaddles, how she likes to be held, what songs will put her to sleep, what positions are most comfortable.  I know what her smile looks like when she is happy and what her cries are trying to tell me.  These are all things I wasn't able to know having twins, or maybe it was having preemies, or some combination of those factors.  Regardless, this sweet little girl is a breeze and complete joy.  I couldn't have asked for anything better to add to our mix of crazy.

And yet, I constantly feel like I am not enough.  It's so incredibly hard to balance time with the kids, to split myself amongst 3 little needy people.  When I am reading and doing puzzles and running with the boys, poor Hannah is left to defend herself from the floor.  When I am nursing Hannah or putting her down for one of her naps, the boys are left on their own.  This means I am returning to a room that is destroyed, books strewn about and things ripped off the walls.  Or, they are being babysat for that 10 minutes by a quick TV show...followed by the tantrums that I make them turn it off.  Don't get me wrong, these are good struggles to have, but it is a difficult stage of life.

I read (the beginning anyway) of another article on infertility earlier today.  And I am reminded that this crazy, messy life filled with temper tantrums and biting, silly smiles and laughter, tears and so many firsts is EXACTLY what my heart longed for.  In these quiet moments when Hannah is sleeping and the boys are destroying something I'm sure I'll be cleaning in just a few minutes, I am reminded that this is what I prayed for.  For a home that is full, for little feet running through it.  Though we always miss our Reagan's feet, though I always know life should be a little more crazy and my heart aches for that, I am so thankful for these moments.

So...Hannah ends 3 months right on track, rolling over, smiling at herself in the mirror, finally starting to enjoy tummy time, LOVING her thumb, and not too far off from graduating to the next size of clothes.  We don't have an exact weight or length (man, it takes some getting used to to not have bimonthly weight checks and appointments...) but somewhere just shy of 12 pounds and 25 inches.  Whew!

Full Term

Life with a full term baby is so SO different.  I am not balancing feeding schedules and apnea monitors.  I do not have to lie awake at night, imagining the beeping of the alarm to signify they've stopped breathing.   I've never watched Hannah struggle to catch her breath, never stood by helpless as she turned blue, never had to teach her to eat.  She came out huge and round, ready to go.  She came out crying, ate as soon as I was stitched up, and had these beautiful full cheeks.

And yet, she is growing up before my very eyes.  Each day, she is SO much bigger than the day before.  She is developing so fast - in growth and what she is able to accomplish.  She knows nothing of the battle to overcome the way Warren and Dean did.  She was born knowing so much, possessing so much.  Oh, how I would have taken it all for granted were it not for my 2 little miracles sleeping upstairs.  I wouldn't have given it a second thought - the ease at which she accomplishes all these "normal" milestones, eating and sleeping and playing exactly like she is supposed to.

Our weeks with W&D are now filled with 6 therapy appointments, progress notes, and goals to achieve.  Two and a half years later, they still have to work for it.  But, you know what?  They will be better because of that.  They will be stronger.  They will understand work ethic and persistence from a young age.  Life with preemies hasn't been easy, from our end or theirs.  But we are all so much different, so much stronger, because of their journey.  As I think back on my pregnancy with the boys, as I continue to struggle with guilt and pain at not providing more for them, I have to remind myself that God is still bigger.  His plan is STILL better than mine, whether I understand that at this exact moment in time or not.  It's a constant struggle for me, that letting go and trusting.  Even if it's simply letting go and trusting with what has already happened.

I love Hannah immeasurably.  And life with just Hannah would have been so carefree and easy.  She's such a blessing, a joy, to raise.  Even in the wee hours of the morning, when she smiles up at me, I'm filled with such love.  But who I am, the mother I have become, is all shaped by years of trials.  Of saying goodbye to Reagan, of standing by unable to do anything but pray and wait and trust with the boys, of months in the NICU.  I watch Hannah as she is growing up so very fast, trying to not take a second of that time for granted, knowing that tomorrow is never promised but desperately trying to not live a life of fear.  If I had never experienced difficulty, loss, sorrow, trials and struggle with our first 3 children, I would never have known what a blessing life truly is.  I might begrudge those 3am wakings, the crying and fussing in the evening.  But God has taught me how precious life is, how precious my children are, and how short time on earth can really be.  It's a lesson I wish I didn't understand, and yet I am grateful, because it has given me a greater depth of love.

Happy 2 months!

Happy 2 month birthday little Hannah!  Or should I say, not so little :).  Our petite little girl, who was down in the 12th percentile at her 1 month check up, hit a huge growth spurt and is in the 23rd (she's carrying most of the weight in her cheeks these days) weighing in at 10lb 4oz! Woo hoo!  I must say, it is so nice having a full term chunky baby.  After 2 kiddos who didn't reach the growth chart until their 2nd birthday, this is easy.  No weigh ins before and after every feeding, no consulting feeding specialists, no stressing and worrying over their lack of weight gain.  We still have our nursing struggles, don't you worry, but it is much different with a full term baby.

Hannah still loves to cuddle.  She is never happier than when she is asleep on my chest (as she is now), softly snoring away like her daddy and brother Warren.  She has slept as long as 6 hours at night which is incredibly important at helping me survive the days. She seems to only be incredibly fussy on the 4 days following any amount of dairy/soy intake.  So for now, none of that for this mama!  Totally worth the sacrifice to get the sleep.  And when my boys are whining and Hannah is crying at the same time it's, well, awful.  My head comes very close to exploding and the headache lasts far longer than the crying.  Let's just say that the whining is enough to make one go insane and Hannah's lungs are definitely not weak. We experienced some unfortunate days after a rather delicious Starbucks soy latte.  Never again...

But outside of that, she's a fairly laid back little girl.  Hannah still spends most of her time hanging out sleeping, eating, and pooping, as all 2 month olds should.  She's still fairly pampered with her expansive girly wardrobe.  Warren and Dean love helping me pick out her outfit each morning and require only a little guidance for weather appropriate attire.  She's just started smiling in recent days and will have a conversation of cooing with me.  I love those rare moments, when the boys are napping or with Andrew, Hannah is awake, and I'm able to really focus on her, playing and talking without guarding her head from flying wooden blocks.  It's a crazy household she's growing up in!

Love you so much sweet girl!  Don't grow up too fast for your mommy...

Hannah's first weeks

Once I survived the hospital recovery, the unexpected pain and extra required day, we settled quickly into a routine.  Having Hannah home has been such a blessing.  She is the sweetest.

Here are a few things I've learned about our little Hannah.  She sleeps like her daddy, solid.  Nothing wakes this child up - not temper tantrums, not whining, not an evening out at a fancy gala.  Nope, she will just continue to sleep.  We're not quite to her due date yet, so this could all change (and probably will tomorrow since I just started bragging on her).  But minus a couple fussy evenings, she's been a trouper!  She loves to eat.  This is such a huge change for me, as our boys sure did not.  Every feeding was a struggle, a fight to get them to take in anything.  We had scales and weight checks and all this extra calorie stuff to give the boys.  And Hannah?  She's taking in far more than she needs for her current weight.  Thus, she's gaining weight well enough that I don't have to wake her up at night.  What does this mean??  It means that last night she went 4 hours between feedings, giving me 3 consecutive hours of sleep.  That makes for one happy mama!  Of course, I still didn't pull it together enough today to get my shower in :)  There's always tomorrow.

My favorite thing about baby Hannah is how she loves to cuddle.  She is never happier than when she's asleep on our chests.  And she makes this little soft cooing noise, sighing contently as she feels safe and secure, tucked away with her parents.  It's amazing how she knows her mother's touch already, at only 2 weeks old.  She knows me and she trusts me so completely.  There's such an innocence in that, and I love it.  It's drastically different than what I experienced with our other kiddos.  I love being able to bond with her, to soak it all in, to try to take in these little moments, even when it's the middle of the night.  I don't want to ever wish away this time, even though we feel like we are living in a crazy zoo.

Warren and Dean are adjusting well and settling into their role as big brothers.  They are very concerned in Hannah cries.  They are always wanting to help Mommy with Hannah, to kiss baby Hannah, to feed baby Hannah, or to share with baby Hannah.  Sometimes it is a little upsetting when baby Hannah doesn't share back, but for the most part they are taking things in stride.  The sharing of time is going to be our biggest struggle.  It's masked right now with Andrew home, as he is able to play with them as I care for and feed Hannah.  But, these days with Daddy home are limited.  And I'm feeling incredibly overwhelmed at the thought of Andrew heading back to work.  I know it's possible, I know mom's do it all the time, but how do you balance?  How do I give my boys enough attention to continue to help them catch up on their milestones and delays and to let them know they still matter, that mommy still loves them?  How do I wake them up and put them down while nursing (and nursing and nursing) their hungry sister?  How do you choose who gets to cry and who gets Mommy?  We'll figure it out to be sure, but we'd love some prayers for patience and a bit of grace as we navigate the transition.

Hannah's Birth Story - God's grace

There is a lot of pressure, or the illusion of pressure anyway, to do things naturally when it comes to parenting.  So, for me, there was some sense of guilt associated with our entire pregnancy and planned birth.  From the very beginning, from conception on, we relied heavily on medical intervention.  I know without a doubt that the doctors would not have been successful, that we could have had no embryo, failed transfers, miscarriage, etc if it was not God's plan.  But still, we did nothing "naturally."  My body was made ready by daily shots and hormone patches, Hannah was transferred in a sterile medical facility, the contractions were controlled with weekly injections, and we had countless ultrasounds and tests.

I had a strong desire to deliver Hannah naturally.  Or at least to have a vaginal delivery, even if I did end up getting an epidural, which I was going to extend myself the grace to do if so needed.  But after an emergency cesarean with the boys, my options were limited.  And with a history of stillbirth, going past my due date was not an option.  So, we scheduled our c-section for 39.5 weeks, fully expecting my body would go into labor long before then.  But by 30 weeks, my anxiety was picking up.  I was dropping weight and it all felt very much like Reagan.  I began having twice weekly monitoring visits which helped easy my anxiety and fears for short time windows, but ultimately I was waiting for my body to fail.  I was waiting for my body to cause hardship and pain in the life of my family again.  It's a terrible way to live.  Our OB has been with us for all 3 pregnancies and knows us fairly well after all these visits.  He had suggested long ago to consider doing an amnio at 37 weeks so we could deliver earlier.  I flat out refused, partly because of the risks of the amnio and partly because I was so sure I would deliver early without it.  But as time drew near, we prayed about it and both felt at peace with the earlier birth plan.  So, we changed things, and Hannah's delivery was moved up 2 weeks.

As I prepared for the amnio, I had so many doubts.  Was this right?  Were we rushing things?  Was I not showing faith in God's ability or His goodness?  I walked into the doctor's office that day stressed and worried that this test could cause damage to our sweet daughter and still reveal that her lungs were not mature, pushing her deliver date back again.  After the initial ultrasound, the doctor did some more scans and informed me that the fluid was too low for any tests.  Hannah would be delivered the following day.  I was so thankful for God's answer to prayer, for His sovereignty and how He carried us through something so simple yet so stressful for me.  No large needle AND I was going to get to see my daughter face to face the following day!

After the surgery, as I'm lying in recovery, our doctor comes out and finds us to talk.  And he shared with us even more about God's provisions.  See, my uterus was weakened from the surgery with the boys and considerably thinned.  Had I gone into labor, my risks of uterine rupture were high.  We prayed and prayed that God would allow me to deliver, that I wouldn't need a painful surgery and the recovery while home with 3 kids who all need their mommy, but God could see the bigger picture and answered our prayers with a "no" that could have saved my life.  Second, Hannah's cord was tied in a knot.  How scary is that??  It wasn't pulled tight yet, but could have easily tightened if we had waited 2 more weeks or tried a vaginal delivery.  It's so scary to think that something so simple could have sent our world crashing down again.

I write all this because sometimes God's plan is not the natural one, because sometimes we don't need to feel guilt that we plan things out, because one birth plan is not better than another.  God showed us such incredible grace and love, directing us toward this early delivery and major surgery.  God prevented my contractions from causing dilation and allowing me to deliver as I wished, and saved the life of our child.  My heart longed for something seemingly better, but something that would have ultimately been detrimental.  It's amazing to see God's hand in every aspect of this "normal" pregnancy.  A pregnancy without any major complications, with all normal development and milestones, and yet so fragile.   Just like our boys, Hannah's life is a miracle.  And, despite the sleepless night and endless feedings, this little girl is a precious child of God and a beautiful gift entrusted to us.  I am grateful.

Hannah's Birth Story - delivery

The past 2 times I have given birth it was a time filled with uncertainty, anxiety, grief, and pain.  Even with the boys, there was so much about it that was not how I planned.  I wanted my body to do more, to do better, to carry them longer.  I was rushed into surgery and couldn't even make it through the whole process without having to be sedated (though I will blame the magnesium drip on some of that craziness).  Regardless, these were my experiences: vaginal delivery into a silent room and emergency cesarean with micro preemies.  Neither ideal.

On November 3, we calmly woke up at 7 (who am I kidding, we were both up and restless long before then!) and played with the boys.  We (they) ate breakfast, played with blocks, had a great time.  My parents arrived at 9:30 and we left for the hospital at 10.  Along the way, we stopped by the NICU to drop off some more supplies for Reagan's Garden and then chatted with some of our favorite nurses from 6 weeks on Special Maternity wing.  It seemed like any other morning, relatively carefree.

There is something surreal about walking into labor and delivery to say "we're here to have a baby" without needing a wheelchair or having strong contractions.  We got all checked in, were loved on by some of the nurse managers we've met through Reagan's Garden, and lead to our room.  Room 860.  As we round the hall, I get a sinking feeling in my stomach.  I see the room, and I break down in the hallway.  This is the exact room where I delivered my precious Reagan.  This is the room where I became a mother for the first time, where I held my child in my arms for the only time, where I said goodbye.  Reagan's entire existence outside me what lived in that room.  I couldn't do it.  This day needed to be about Hannah, about joy and life.  I knew Hannah wouldn't be born in that room, but it was too much for my emotional heart to take, I couldn't even walk in the door.  We were quickly moved to another room.  And the entire nursing staff was so sweet and kind to us in the process.

Once we were settled in our room, I was able to finish reading through the Bible...we had the tail end of Revelation left for that day.  I love that Warren, Dean, and Hannah have all heard the entire Bible while in the womb.  My contractions began to pick up and were actually consistently every 4-5 minutes.  And getting stronger.  Hannah would be coming very soon with or without the scheduled c-section.

I walked into the OR to see an entire table set up with scary looking silver things - probes and scalpels and who knows what, all lined up.  Deep breath.  Okay, another deep breath.  The anesthesiologist was incredible and gave me my spinal with almost no pain whatsoever - what a drastic difference from my cerclage placement!  I had a minor freak out that I wasn't actually numb yet before I was assured that if, in fact, I was not numb, I would not be lying still on the table.  Oh, I guess things had started.  It seemed like forever, with lots of tugging and pulling, before Andrew was able to stand up to watch Hannah come out.  It took a few seconds before I heard it, but there it was: crying.  Such a sweet sound.  She was crying.  The NICU staff showed me her sweet little face before setting her on the warming table to examine her lungs (we had some low fluid levels and no amnio to confirm lung development, though we fully expected things to be good at 37.5 weeks).  She had the biggest cheeks ever!  She looked absolutely huge to me, I was a little in shock.  How could she be so big already??  She weighed in at 6 lb 11 oz, but looked so much bigger to me.  Andrew was able to hold her and go back with the staff for first bath and footprints while they continued to work on me.  I was sedated with the boys after they came out, so I don't have any memory of the closing process, but it was way longer than I thought it would be.  About 45 minutes later I was taken to recovery and able to hold my sweet Hannah for the first time.  She was beautiful, just perfect.  She has these tiny petite features, despite the big cheeks.  She has her mommy's eyes and her daddy's chin.  And then this happened...she quit crying.  She needed her mommy.  There was something so special in that, something I haven't been able to give any of my other children at birth.  The calming of a mommy's touch.  She was able to nurse right away, and I was able to cuddle with her for over an hour, working on getting my toes to move.

Hannah Grace Savant was born at 2:45pm, November 3, 2015.  She weighed 6 lb 11oz and was 20 1/4 inches long.  She is perfectly knit together in my womb, a gift from God.  We are incredibly blessed to bring home a healthy baby girl.

30 weeks

30 weeks.  It sounds so old to me.  Now, when I hear of babies born at 30 weeks, I shrug my shoulders.  I'm not sure what is different about that first digit being a 3 versus a 2, but it seems to make all the difference in the world.  I'm officially 3/4 of the way through a NORMAL pregnancy, less than 2 months from full term.  Craziness.  I'm feeling very excited to be at this point.

Hannah's room is coming along.  We've got the walls painted now, which is huge!  Her crib is all set up with the hand made 3 tier ruffled bed skirt (tutorial here) and butterfly mobile.  It's nice to be physically able to make things for the room this time around.  And to feel like I can put more of myself into her room than I was able to with Warren and Dean.  I'll be posting pictures once we get a mattress because, well, cribs look funny without them...they're kind of important.  So, assuming we can figure out exactly which one we want, the pictures should be coming very soon :)

Approaching the 30 week mark for me also meant a spike in evening contractions.  I'm not at the point of calling the doctor yet since they are better throughout the day, but there is definitely a change in intensity with the evening hours.  I know some of that is related to being more active and getting Hannah's nursery ready vs lying on the couch in a constant state of miserable nausea. (So thankful that nausea is COMPLETELY gone)  But it's enough to cause me an initial fear of preterm labor being an issue.  Of course, I already established just having a 3- at the beginning of my gestation makes me feel so much more comfortable, but how wonderful would it be to have no NICU time and be able to take Hannah home with me right away?  I'm not even sure I know the answer to that question as it's so foreign to me.  But I'm clinging to that and the hope that we'll make it at least 5 more weeks to give us the best chance of coming home together.  That thought brings a smile to my face

All in a name

Our first three children's names were relatively easy, all names we talked about while dating or in the early stages of our marriage.  We knew Reagan would be our first daughter.  And we liked Warren and Dean equally, so it worked out extremely well that they were twins so we didn't have to choose.  But that was as far as we got in our planning process before reality set in, things got difficult, and we never knew if we would have any children, much less more than 3.  So, we never really discussed it again.

While silently facing infertility, our pastor did a sermon series on 1 Samuel.  I so wish I had downloaded it so I could go back and listen.  Anyway, 1 Samuel opens with the story of Hannah.  Hannah, suffering for many many years with infertility, watching her husband's other wife conceive and deliver child after child, tormenting her and rubbing it in her face.  I felt tormented, I felt like people were rubbing their fertility in my face as I got yet another baby shower invitation or saw another pregnancy/birth announcement come my way.  But the truth of the matter is, no one was doing that.  No one was actually making me feel like less of a woman.  No one, that is, except for myself.  But not the case with Hannah.  She faced this sense of failure in a very real way each and every day, being provoked constantly until she was weeping and unable to eat.  She wept to the Lord, cried out to Him.  And she pledged to give Him her son if she could only conceive.  I know a little of how that feels, though I didn't give my daughter by choice.  And I certainly wouldn't have if I had the option.  Regardless, it was the first time I listened to a sermon specifically on infertility, the first time I really felt like my struggles, the heartache involved in not being able to conceive, was addressed by anyone.  The first time I realized how much God cares for me and this struggle that no one else would talk about.  I remembered Hannah and how she continually took her petition to the Lord, how she trusted Him with her son Samuel, the faith required in that act.

Fast forward several years, 3 pregnancies and 4 kids later, and the scar and pain of infertility is still there.  There's still a part of me that struggles to wrap my head around the why.  And I know I haven't handled it with the grace and faith Hannah did.  But I find her and her story worthy of naming my second daughter after, and I can only pray my daughter will have the same faith, with trust in the Lord wholeheartedly as well.  And so we've decided on the name of this little one I am carrying..

Hannah Grace Savant

Warren and Dean have learned her name and seem to understand as much as possible that she is their little sister, just as Reagan is their big sister.  Both girls are included when they sing Jesus Loves Me, or when they talk about who loves them or who they love.  It melts my heart to see them stepping into their new role as big brothers.  I'm excited to meet little Hannah, hopefully not until November, but we'll take her any time she comes.  I'm ready to see if she looks like me, if she looks like her brothers or her daddy, or if she looks like her big sister.

3rd trimester

It's official.  I've surpassed all previous pregnancy milestones and duration.  I'm in the 3rd trimester.  Honestly, I thought it would feel more different than it does.  It's feels remarkably similar to the end of the 2nd trimester.  Maybe that is simply because once we got to the half way point, all indication was we would reach this point.  It's not a big surprise, though my heart still had it's doubts.  But medically, things were stable enough that it was fully expected that I would not deliver until the 3rd trimester.

It's exciting to have something normal.  (well, normal-ish given the frequency of my contractions)  To be doing things like scheduling my cesarean for mid November, to be applying lotion to my ever stretching itchy skin, to see new numbers on the scale never seen before.  And yet, it makes me realize how much I missed out on.  Funny how that works, how my mind can take such a blessing and make it about something else.  To take what God has given me and continue to compare it to what everyone else has.  Something is wrong with that.  It's not all the time, or even most of the time, but I hate that I couldn't reach this point with Reagan, Warren and Dean.  That my body seemed to fail time and time again as I couldn't provide them the best environment they needed to grow.  Though I know in my head that God watched over them, that He protected them, that His plan is good, it doesn't make it easy to know in my heart that I didn't fail my children.  All 3 of them.

But, things are moving forward.  We're cleaning out and painting another nursery, we've assembled another crib, and we're working really hard to teach toddler boys the meaning of the word "gentle."  I'll take some advice/expertise on that if anyone has some :).  Overall we are excited and ready to become a family of 6 as we wait for November to come!

26 weeks

I am now 26 weeks pregnant.  AND upright.  Wow.  Now, that is big.  I remember taking our maternity pictures at this point with the boys, standing briefly between contractions around the hospital, trying to keep a glowing smile on my face while wanting to cry out in pain.  I remember getting back to my room and being so exhausted from my wheelchair ride and time spent standing, getting an extra shot of terb that night and wondering if we had just made a huge mistake.  I love each and every picture we have, and I'm so grateful that our photographer was able to capture those moments and help create a background that looked nothing like the outside of a hospital I wasn't allowed to leave, creating some semblance of normalcy.  We were reassured several times that those few minutes would not have impacted the timing of our labor, so I have to trust in that.  Regardless, this time around, at 26 weeks, I'm sitting upright on my couch at home.  I'm taking my boys to the pool and swimming with them.  I'm getting things all ready in the nursery, making a mobile and bedskirt, helping put together a crib, deciding on the wall color.  I get more than my allotted 30 minutes of sitting time.  It's really quite wonderful to have something so "normal," something so many women take for granted.  God has been so gracious to us with this pregnancy, with this sweet little girl growing inside of me.  And, minus the whole morning sickness for the first 20 weeks part, I'm starting to see how people might actually enjoy being pregnant, being in awe and wonder at what is happening instead of living in constant fear.  I am trying to get over to that side, trying and struggling and failing, but God is working.

We are now 6 days away from when the boys were born, 6 days away from the moment our OB said very calmly that I had done everything I could, and he was going to take them "tonight."  So much terror in that moment as my mind flooded with all the things I should have done or things we should have tried or ways I had, once again, failed my children.  As I approach what will be the last of these milestones, the last moment to remind me of what went wrong in previous pregnancies, the last trigger for flashbacks and nightmares, I am thankful for these little reassuring kicks and understanding doctors and the prayers of our friends/family who are lifting us all up.  And I'm so ready for the moment when all I have ahead of me is something new!  

24 weeks and contractions

We have now hit 24 weeks.  This was a HUGE milestone with the boys.  The nurses celebrated with us, the doctors celebrated with us.  It felt like a little party was going on all day.  Viability.  Of course this little bubble was burst when our neonatologist came in and gave us the scary statistics on quality of life and disabilities if survival even happened.  Nevertheless, we had officially made it to our first goal.  With this child, even though there hasn't been months of complications, even though we were never once told she wouldn't make it, there's a little piece of me that just celebrates getting to the 24 week mark.  And it's a milestone that didn't have all the usual anxiety surrounding it.

So, I excitedly anticipated this 24 week point in pregnancy without the baggage that surrounds most of my other milestone points in pregnancy.  That made me all the more thrown when I started having more contractions.  I knew to expect them at 21 weeks with the stress of that moment and what it meant for my previous pregnancies.  But at 24?  No stress contractions should have occurred.  Yet I found myself downloading a contraction counter again and, sure enough, every 8 minutes.  Hmm...  I called the doctor.  When I finally got a return call, it was with instructions to rest and drink some water.  Awesome.  Very feasible with two two-year-olds at home.  Sure kids, get some dinner, put on your bibs, and play quietly while Mommy rests.  I was told to call in 2 hours with an update.  Two hours later I was still rocking Warren who, for some reason this week, has decided to start hysterical screaming after being in his crib for 5 minutes.  I didn't even bother to call.  What would I report...I haven't done anything you asked me to and I don't have a clue how frequently my contractions are coming?  That seems useless.  When I called before, it was during the end of naptime after I had been doing exactly what you prescribed and when I was able to monitor things.  Sigh...

As the night when on, contractions got closer together but not more intense, so I considered that to be a good sign and decided to forgo the trip to labor and delivery.  With Warren and Dean, I started getting contractions like this weeks before my first trip to the hospital.  Irritable uterus, they said.  I think that started around 17 weeks with them, so 24 this time around seems about right.  Regardless, a whole night resting, drinking lots of water, and peeing seemed to do the trick and I'm back down to my usual amount of contractions this morning.  Plus Andrew took the boys to the park after being gone for a few days so I can stay and rest.  Such a quiet morning.  I forgot how peaceful it is to drink my morning coffee while sitting down without little boy temper tantrums.  Add to it, Baby Girl seems to be enjoying the moment of calm and is kicking away.  I have to say, there is nothing better than little baby kicks as a gentle reminder that God is sustaining her (and me) in a way that I know is far bigger than me or my doctors.

Less than 3 weeks and I'll officially be the most pregnant I've ever been :)

22 weeks

There is something really special about hitting the 22 week mark.  A moment I never experienced with Reagan, a first for a little girl in our family.  And she's still healthy, another first for this moment.  I'm not lying in a hospital bed, I'm not hooked up to monitors, I'm not heavily medicated for strong, unrelenting contractions.  At this point with Reagan, we were saying goodbye and coming home empty handed.  At this point with Warren and Dean, we were praying I'd hang on for another 2 weeks so they'd have a chance of survival.  And the 3rd pregnancy?  Nothing.  Everything looks great.  At our check up on Tuesday, the specialist was confident that even if my contractions got worse, there was no way I'd deliver before 28 weeks.  Know what that means??  The 3rd trimester!  I've never experienced the third trimester.  I've delivered 3 babies in only 4 total trimesters.  Hmmm...  We are prayerfully optimistic that baby girl will make her appearance at some point much closer to term.

So...bring on the stretch marks, heartburn, and back aches that come with growing uncomfortably huge!

21.5 weeks

Today is the day.  The day that marks the point in pregnancy when we learned Reagan was gone.  The point in the pregnancy when I was given the news that my cervix was shortened and they couldn't guarantee labor could be stopped so I should prepare for the worst with Warren and Dean.  In one instance, God proved bigger than what the doctors could see and He saved my precious boys.  In the other, He took our daughter home too early.  In both, we were stripped of all our comforts and forced to rely on Him completely.

I'm at that point again.  And I'm terrified.  This child doesn't like to move much at all, she's calm.  Later in life, that will be an immeasurable blessing.  But right now?  It's terrifying.  I haven't felt her in the last 24 hours.  Nothing.  And I dropped weight while on vacation, which doesn't seem normal at all.  It's feeling all too familiar.  And I'm feeling like I'm on the verge of breaking down and retreating into my little hole.  Except for these two boys...and for reading them books, singing songs together, and watching them cook in their new little kitchen.  I've got some music playing softly in the background, and every minute or two one of them will start dancing.  I love seeing their innocence, the complete blissful ignorance toward the heart wrenching pain their mommy is feeling this morning.  I will hate the day when the world takes that from them.

We're heading out to an appointment in another hour, waiting to see our second little girl on the ultrasound screen.  And praying that all is well, that it's simply the stress of the day causing my symptoms (or lack of them).  Trying to trust in the Lord's plan for our life and in His goodness when it is just so hard and when our life looks nothing like what we pictured or planned.  It's all a bit overwhelming.

Half way

So, we've passed the half-way point.  Given that I'm, hopefully, going to have a cesarean around the 38-39 week mark, I actually would have passed that point over a week ago.  Regardless, I have mixed emotions about it.  This moment marks the last post I wrote while pregnant with Reagan, the first post I wrote while in labor with my boys.  And this time around?  Healthy.  No signs of any complications, no swelling, no bleeding, and all indication that the cerclage is doing it's job.  Maybe, once I'm past the next month, I can begin to relax.  Maybe.

In the mean time, we've started to plan out the nursery.  I was able to finish the baby blanket, crocheted in pink, grey, and yellow, to hang over the rocking chair.  I'm ordering fabric samples for the ruffled bed skirt.  We're planning how to rearrange furniture.  And, in the next few weeks, we'll order a crib.  I hesitate to get this far into the process, unsure of the future, doubting my body's ability and God's goodness.  But I am trying to walk in faith, trusting God to provide, to keep Baby Savant safe through delivery.  To allow us the sense of normalcy we so long for after 3 children born far too early.

A sneak peak of the start of an attempt to be crafty...

It's a girl!!

This weekend we had the joy of doing a gender reveal with my sister.  How often do sisters get to find out what they're having at the exact same time?  Despite some confusing counting, we both flipped the lids off the box to reveal what we're carrying at the same time.

I learned that Katy and I both hate crafting.  We're not that bad at it, but it doesn't come naturally and causes much frustration.  I love pinning little crafty things, love the idea of handmade tissue paper balls and making the boxes my own, but in actuality...I'd much rather someone else do them.  I have no patience for all things crafty.  That being said, we did a pretty good job I think of getting it all put together, if I do say so myself.  Here's some shots of the party:

Our ultrasound pictures, signed in blue/pink by our dear family based on their guesses

Katy and I.  You'd never know she was 4 weeks ahead of me!  Sigh to baby bumps the 3rd time around.  But totally worth all the changes!

Blue/Pink punch, popcorn, and dip.  Props to Katy for making the streamers

These tissue paper pom poms: harder than they look.

Beautiful flowers

The expectant parents!

Pre balloon release.  These things are huge.  Nearly 45 feet of wrapping paper.  But cutting out letters is a great activity for surgery recovery, just FYI.

It was so special to have ALL of our family there, on all sides.  How often can that happen?  We really appreciate everyone making the trip so we could reveal together.  A little more fun than the text we sent out after our ultrasound with the boys.  So, after Warren and Dean woke up, we headed outside for the results.  I think everyone will have already seen these, but here are some pictures capturing the moment.

And there you have it. Our exciting party, exciting news as we plan to welcome a little girl this fall and my sis prepares for her new baby boy. 

Cerclage

There's been an ongoing struggle for me through this pregnancy: cerclage or no cerclage.  We discussed with our great docs to possibility before the transfer even happened and had it in our head that would be our plan.  But our specialist said we could also follow the cervix length regularly and wait to see.  Maybe everything went bad last pregnancy simply because it was twins (and at times, triplets with that clot hanging out in there) and my body wasn't ready for all the stretching.  Maybe.  Did we want to chance it?  The cerclage itself wasn't without risk, so which direction should we go?  Ultimately, we were given a 40% chance of needing an emergency cerclage placed later in pregnancy.  That seemed high to me, especially given the success rate of "emergent cerclages" at less than 50%.  Eek.  So, in the end, we opted to go for it.

There is something utterly terrifying about being wide awake in the OR, particularly if you are the one on the table.  Last time I was wide awake in the OR too, but was having 2 babies pulled out of me so somehow that was different, more tolerable.  This time I was nervous, incredibly so, as I was sitting on the OR table waiting for my spinal.  The numbing injection burned, then came the epidural.  Ouch.  I don't remember it hurting that much last time.  Oh wait, says anesthesiologist, that's not going into your spine, I seem to be hitting bone. Eek.  Take 2.  More numbing injections, another epidural, and searing pain shooting down my leg into my toes.  My left leg is all tingly and burning.  Here's the problem, my right leg is fine.  I can move it, I can lift it.  My pelvis, also fine.  Hmm...  Anesthesiologist says Oh wait one more time.  It's not working.  Seriously??  By this point I have tears streaming down my face, for 2 totally different reasons.  First, those spinals HURT.  To have it pierced twice was just too much for me.  Second, I'm not terrified for baby.  We were told the spinal was a better option because there was no risk to baby.  Now, I'm facing general anesthesia, which causes crazy reactions in my body, which I don't metabolize well at all, and which is delivered to baby.  Suddenly the risk seems like too much.  And just as I'm thinking that, I drift off to sleep.

I wake up 2 hours later in recover, convulsing and shaking, oxygen monitors signaling loudly that I'm not breathing.  It takes a team I'm only vaguely familiar of to calm things down.  I hate anesthesia.  But, because I can wiggle my toes so quickly (as the spinal never completely worked) I am quickly taken to a private room to wait it out.  It's nearly 4 hours later before left leg starts working and I can head home.  I now have a raging spinal headache.  Of course.

Fast forward 2 days, and that whole ordeal is worth it.  We get to have another ultrasound of baby, get to watch him/her kicking and scratching and moving all around.  The cerclage is in a great place, the cervix is closed, the baby is healthy.  That is ultimately the goal, and it's accomplished.  All medical efforts have been done to ensure this baby makes it to the 3rd trimester.  But here's the thing, ultimately, it doesn't matter what we do.  (of course it does to some extent, God gives us brains to think with and has enabled for these medical advances.  Such an excuse to just sit by and do nothing...).  Anyway, it doesn't matter what the odds, for or against, because our God is in control.  I know full well how frail my body it, how weak.  Yet, God is strong enough for all of us, and He can carry this child.  Such a comfort.

And, more exciting news, we get to find out TOMORROW what we are having.  Yay!  Pictures and official announcement to come very soon!

US #2

4/17

Ok, so I had my first unscheduled emergency ultrasound yesterday.  Sigh.  I'm being haunted by symptoms of pregnancies past - spotting, cramping, pain.  The nurse has reassured me that these are all extremely common with IVF because of all the medications.  But for me, it brings me back to my previous pregnancies, to the trauma and terror I associate with those.  I may be "one of those women" but I don't have a healthy or normal pregnancy to compare this to.

All that to say, Baby Savant looked great.  Heart beat was strong, you could start to make out more than just blob on the ultrasound.  And my sweet doc is bringing me in one more time before releasing me to my OB and MFM specialist.

Otherwise, nausea is being somewhat controlled by my new meds.  But I've quit praying that I would be healed of this horrific nausea because I just cannot handle not having it.  Weird?  Absolutely.  But I had a 24 hour period with essentially no nausea (which corresponded with my new pain symptoms) after over 48 hour of unrelenting, can't get out of bed nausea.  I freaked.  That scared me just as much as the cramping pain I was having.  I didn't realize until then how much comfort the nausea brought.  Though I'd rather have LESS nausea, NO nausea was not good for my heart.  And revealed all the more how much I doubt.  I don't trust that God will answer my prayers, I'm surprised when He does.  And I still don't trust God with my child, at least not yet.  I pray I will get there, but I just feel let down in the past.  Which is ridiculous as I watch my 2 little miracles shovel pasta and peas in their mouths with their hands, passing their water cup back and forth.  It's a disgusting yet beautiful process to watch them eat.  God did that.  Doctors didn't, doctors didn't think they would make it,  Yet here they are, and in-my-face, everyday reminder of God's goodness.

1st US

4/7/15

Woo hoo!!  These are the only words I can think of to describe the relief that there is only 1 baby growing in my belly.  We've always known the risk of identical twins is much higher in IVF than in the regular population and with as sick as I've been, that was definitely a fear.  Praise the Lord there is one baby with a nice, strong heart beat.  AND...no blood clot!  YES!  That's right, for the first time ever I've had a 1st trimester ultrasound without a scary clot.  Reagan's disappeared quickly, the boys' haunted me throughout the pregnancy, and this little guy has nothing.  Such a relief, a HUGE blessing and answer to prayer.  We are so excited.

So, what does that mean?  It means, right now, I have to wait 2 full weeks before another ultrasound.  Really?  TWO weeks?  I've never waited that long.  And yet, I am filled with comfort in knowing, beyond doubt, that I am in fact very pregnant.  The bulging belly, heartburn, and fatigue are nice gentle reminders.  The overwhelming and horrific nausea is the in-my-face reminder.  I have never felt so horrible in my life.  And yet, I know that God is using that to reassure my fleeting heart and doubting mind that this child is growing strong.

So...here's a pic of the little guy/girl/blob.