He Never Leaves Us in the Valley

Warning: If you stopped by to see cute photos of my kids, get an adoption update, or read a funny story--this isn't one of those posts. But if you ever wondered about the title of my blog, this explains it.

Nine years ago. That's when it began. My love of the 23rd Psalm. My need to savor each verse and digest every word.

Nine years ago I was running errands in my comfy shoes and maternity attire. I stopped at Babies R Us to pick up some goodies for the nursery I was preparing for our third child. Finally some blue in our very pink world. We were over-the-moon excited about this baby boy due on Valentine's Day.

But I noticed that he wasn't kicking. Not uncommon when I was running around, but I went home to rest hoping to feel his mid-afternoon dancing.

Nothing.

I called my doctor in a panic. They said not to worry. He probably had shifted to a position where I couldn't feel him. They told me to drink something sweet and wait. The practice was moving to a new office, that day of all days, but they told me I could go to the hospital if there was no change and see the doctor on call. We dropped our girls off at grandparents and headed to Labor and Delivery. I wasn't interested in waiting for the orange juice to kick in.

Brad and I prayed as we waited to be admitted. I was certain I had watched too many medical dramas and everything was going to be fine and I would feel like a big ding-a-ling for running to the hospital for nothing. I was finally taken to a room for an ultrasound. I was so ready to hear that all was well and return home.

But only silence. The nurses, my husband, the ultrasound. There was none of the "woosh, woosh, woosh" of that heartbeat that I so loved to hear. A nurse ran to get my doctor, she walked in to look at the screen and started screaming, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!"  I knew what her profanity meant.

And then I whispered my own, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus." My Savior knew what I meant.

That was January 8, 2004. On the evening of January 9th, I held my first son. And then my mother who was at the end of a six-year battle with cancer came to meet her only grandson. She held him and sang to him and we cried until there were no tears left. (She joined her Creator and her grandson in heaven eight weeks later.)

When I was alone . . . I talked to God. 

You see, I'd known pain before that day. I had experienced loss. We had had 3 miscarriages, lost multiple beloved grandparents, weathered financial hardship, had moments of personal heartbreak. But this was different. It was too much. In my spiritual immaturity I had conjured up some kind of parameters of what could ever befall me in this fallen world. This exceeded them . . . by a lot. I stared at hospital ceiling tiles wondering if my Heavenly Father was listening and screamed, "But you said you would never give me more than I could handle!"

I had my grandmother's Bible in my hospital room (a story in itself), but no strength to pick it up. It didn't matter--the room was dark and my eyes were swollen shut from crying. My only comfort would come from Scripture I had memorized. 

And one of the passages was Psalm 23. Like any child raised in Sunday school, I knew it well. I got to "even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. . . . " The tears began to flow until I choked through to the end, "goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. . . "

Then I realized the 23rd Psalm didn't end in the valley, it always ends with His goodness and mercy! It was then I knew that the same was true for those who believed in Him. I knew He would carry me through this time because He promised joy would follow mourning, spring would follow winter, goodness would follow brokenness. And He promised He would never leave me.

And He hasn't. 

More of Luke's/Brady's story is here if you'd like to empty your box of Kleenex. So much happened in the days and months after our son's loss that never for a minute did I question the wisdom of His plan. So many beautiful things happened that year (and still do today) that I could not deny His presence or His love for me.

And so this morning I awoke knowing it was my son Luke's birthday. I won't lie--nine years later there are still tears. 

But I was hugged by my eight-year-old son Brady--our gift of goodness due exactly one year after our loss. Then greeted by Daniel--our gift of mercy through the miracle of adoption. I watched my oldest blessings help the younger ones and observed Miss Dimpled Cuteness navigate through the backpacks lined up at the door. I remember how my big girls gave me a reason to get out of bed during that very hard year and I see our bonus baby who makes me wake smiling now. I have a precious daughter who waits for us in China and know my cup runneth over. 

A chorus of kids calling me mom kept me from any moments of sadness. I dropped my big kids at school and Victoria and I returned home to take on the day.

One of my favorite songs came on the radio--Chris Tomlin's "Whom Shall I Fear." Victoria likes to "sing" along (think high-pitched Gregorian chant) and we both belted out "I know who goes before me, I know who stands behind. The God of angel armies, is always by my side." We must have been a sight at the red lights as we echoed the lyrics at the top of our lungs, "You are faithful, you are faithful, you are faithful."

I was grateful to have a very normal day in the life of an abnormal family. The kids are in bed and my eyelids are heavy, but I just couldn't let this day end without thanking God for His goodness and mercy. 

There are a lot of hurting people in this world. You might be one of them. I know many have loss so much greater than mine and pain that I can't imagine. But as a mom who once thought she was too broken to be whole again, I want you to know . . . 

HE NEVER LEAVES US IN THE VALLEY.

Much Love,

Kathie

Merry Christmas, Happy Gotcha Day, and Introducing Our New Daughter

It's a rainy Christmas evening in Georgia right now. We have attended five family gatherings in four days, given/received many gifts, eaten way too many cookies, and hugged a lot of necks. As much as I love the crazy fun of Christmas, I really cherish the post-Christmas time as a family where we are just simply enjoying being together.  I'm sitting by the fire now and am grateful for the time to write.

I've seen those cards that say, "Santa, I can explain" and feel like saying, "Bloggy friends, I can explain." I never intended to take such a long break and I have so terribly missed blogging.  But we have had such a wildly busy year, I haven't found much time to update. God has been doing some awesome things in our lives and I know I need to document every detail. I will try to be better about doing so in the coming year.

Not only are we celebrating the birth of our Savior today, we are celebrating Daniel's "gotcha day"this week--the day we brought Daniel home from Guatemala. After two and a half years of praying him home and after Brad and I took turns living 6 weeks with him in a hotel room in Guatemala, having him walk off the plane to see a huge gathering of family and friends to greet him is one of our sweetest Christmas memories. He came home Christmas Eve night three years ago and we are still so grateful for this precious gift to our family. 

He is such a blessing and a joy to our family. Here we are picking out our Christmas tree Thanksgiving weekend. (Some of my kids have asked me not to share our Christmas morning photos of them in their PJs so this will have to do.)

Keeping up with this crew keeps me busy, but my lack of blogging time isn't just because of our life full of baseball, soccer, play practice, carpool.  I've been doing some paperwork . . . yes, adoption paperwork.

This is what our family looks like now . . . .

Olivia (15), Ava (12), Daniel (10), Brady (7), and Victoria (18 months).

But here's a glimpse of what it will look like in the coming year. We hope to have our new daughter home this coming summer.

There's so much that I want to share and will try my best to update in the coming year. The prayers and encouragement of so many of you helped us get through that long journey to bring Daniel home. I would be so grateful to have your support as we bring home the newest member of the Williams family.

Below is the annual Christmas letter that I sent out in those last days before Christmas. (The more children we add to our family, the later these cards seem to get sent.) It tells the story of how God led us to our newest daughter. I wasn't able to send it to many of you who are dear to us--realized a bit too late that our list had grown and I just didn't order enough cards. But know this letter is meant for every person taking the time to read it now.

We hope you and your family are having a wonderful Christmas season celebrating the birth of our Savior!

Dear Family and Friends,

You would think with the end of the world breathing down my neck, I’d be able to get my cards out before the 20^th of December. If you are reading this it means the Mayans and I have about the same sense of timing. If not, I was standing in line at the post office when the asteroid hit.

I could give you a list of things that delayed this Christmas greeting—when you have a family of 7 it increases the number of trips to the doctor for ear infections/cold/flu, the pile of laundry that accumulates, the number of parties and programs to attend. But although there are days that I can hardly keep my eyes open, I truly have never been happier. Life is loud and crazy and busy, but it’s so much fun.

I’ve debated whether or not to even do a Christmas letter this year or in the future. When I started writing these letters, it was the only option to reconnect with friends.  But times have changed. I remember a conversation with my kids about the “olden days” (what they call my childhood years). They were most certainly envisioning me in Little House on the Prairie attire churning butter. Their eyes widened with horror as I told of a world with four TV channels and no computer or Internet. Their response was “How did you get a connection for your cell phones or iPods?” I informed them that our phone had a 6-foot spiral cord and music came from a boom box that weighed more than the average 7 year old. They uttered declarations that I had the “worst childhood ever.”

When my kids are grown and sending out their own Christmas cards, I’ll tell them about my years of taking photos with a camera that had two settings—flash working/flash not working. I’ll share about waiting for film to be developed hoping for one decent picture, explain that cropping was only done by farmers, and if you asked where you could find a memory card you would be sent to Hallmark. And then I will tell about Christmas letters—little updates between friends they didn’t see often. And then they will ask, “But what about Facebook? Instagram? Twitter?” Upon realization that I survived those critical years without social media, they will tweet that their mother had the “worst young adult life ever.”

Twelve years ago, I started writing these letters like many of you. Each year we get fewer—I guess they seem unnecessary in a world where we can all see every detail of each other’s lives the minute it happens. This piece of paper doesn’t have a “like” button or a comment section, can’t be reposted or go viral. (Unless you sneeze on it.) It is an old-fashioned Christmas letter and yet, when I find one tucked inside my Christmas card, it’s a treat.

Our year has been so full that I don’t even know where to start. It has been such a heartbreaking time for so many that it makes me feel like all I need to report is that we are grateful for another year. There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not overwhelmed by God’s grace, grateful for the health of our children, awed by God’s provision in every area of our lives.

There will be a new member of the Williams family in the coming year and she deserves an introduction. Thus far I haven’t posted anything about her because I’ve been up to my eyeballs in adoption paperwork since August, but also because I just simply didn’t know how to share the news since to many of you an additional child is the last thing our family seems to need.

This story starts May of 2010. Daniel had been home a year and a half and was doing so well. We just love that sweet boy and can’t imagine our lives without him. But I was haunted by the children we left behind. As Daniel said good-bye to his friends at the orphanage, children came to me in tears pleading, “Take me, too.” Guatemala is now closed for adoption but there are millions in other countries who desperately need a mom and dad and we can’t forget that fact.

We started our adoption paperwork and by October had completed our homestudy. We even had a precious little girl on hold and were about to submit our documents to be officially matched when we found out I was pregnant with Victoria.  God provided another family for her (a sweet story in itself) and it was clear that we needed to put our adoption plans on hold. While we were disappointed to have missed out on the little girl in China, we were so grateful for this precious new life God had granted us. Victoria has brought our family so much joy--what a precious gift she is to us all.

As our life was returning to a new normal, plans to add to our family were indefinitely on hold. We would occasionally look at the photolistings of children waiting for a family--we’d pick out specific ones to pray for and rejoice when it showed they had been chosen. But there was one little girl posted last summer by Lifeline Christian Services. It wasn’t her photo that won us over; it was a video they had posted. Although she can barely walk, she was pushing her buddy in a doll stroller. She stopped and politely answered questions she was asked and waved at the camera. There was something so sweet and so familiar about her that we were smitten. Months passed and she still wasn’t matched with a family.

In August Brad gave me his blessing to inquire about her. Her agency told us she was still waiting and sent a copy of her file to review. I didn’t want to admit that we were just “browsing”—that this was not a good time for us to adopt. I looked over what I thought would be a basic account of her medical history. What it turned out to be was a love story.

As most of you know, in China they have a one-child policy. Most want a son—they carry on the family name and take care of their parents when they are old. For years this caused the abandonment of thousands of healthy baby girls—many who have been adopted by families around the world. But as ultrasounds have become available for these expecting couples, many of these unwanted girls are now aborted instead of abandoned. The orphanages in China are still overflowing, but now it is with children with medical needs (both boys and girls) born to parents who did not have access to medical care and didn’t know the child they were expecting was not the preferred gender and had medical issues.

Some of these needs are minor and easily corrected, some are more severe, but all of these needs pose a problem. Many families are very superstitious and consider these defects a curse. Others simply can’t afford the lifetime of medical care that child will require. These special needs babies are usually abandoned at birth.

But what I read in this child’s file was a different story. This baby girl was born May 2009 with spina bifida. Her medical needs were obvious from the very first time they held her and perhaps she wasn’t the son they had longed for—but they kept her anyway. Perhaps there was pressure from family members to abandon her immediately before they got too attached—not to delay the inevitable and go ahead and try for another child. Still, they kept her anyway. Not only did they love on her for a year, they scraped together enough money to get a surgery that she most likely would not have gotten in the care of an orphanage. And then knowing they could not provide the long-term care she needed, they made the heartbreaking decision to give her up.

This little girl’s file told of the busy bus station in which she was abandoned; it detailed the beautiful white outfit adorned with flowers that her mother had dressed her in for the very last time. Both evidence that this child was dearly loved and their hope was that someone would find her and rescue her. The tears began to flow as I read her story—for I, too, have held a baby that I knew I wouldn’t be able to parent on this earth and wished for just one more day. I, too, have lost my mother and imagine the ache in that baby girl’s heart as she looked around the bus station of strangers wondering where her loving parents had gone. I, too, have a one-year-old daughter and would be beyond broken to have to make such a choice out of love. And then I saw when she was abandoned—May 2010. The very same time my longing to add another child began. I felt a connection that I couldn’t undo--as if our lives were already intertwined.

I flipped through the pages to see the end of this story. She was found and taken to a local orphanage. She has spent the last two and a half years there—yet she was still waiting. I couldn’t walk away from her knowing we had the ability to change the ending of her story. And to be honest, we feel we need her more than she needs us. Our sweetest times as a family have been during times of brokenness . . . during times of complete dependency on God. We have gotten to a place of green pastures and still waters and are starting to forget those days where He carried us through the darkest valleys. It is our turn to do some carrying. We look forward to what God will teach us as we care for her needs and we are honored to be this little girl’s new family. Oh how proud I am of our children for how excited they are about their new little sister. How grateful I am to have a husband that saw her video and said, “Let’s go get her.”

I must admit that in this world of sorrow and uncertainty, it has been our efforts to bring this little girl home that give us hope and purpose. Just as the wise men must have certainly looked foolish for the years of searching for the promised Messiah, we must certainly look foolish to many for adding another child to our family. But only by seeking Him, will you find Him (Matt.7:7) and we see evidence of His guiding hand as we obey His leading.

This Christmas and always, we are grateful for a Child born to change the ending of our story. Thanks for your love and support for so many years. May you seek Him and find Him in the coming year.

With Much Love from the Williams Family

We Wish You a Merry Christmas . . .

The following is our annual Christmas letter. I'm posting it a bit late because an infection that started in my hand last week turned into something serious. I spiked a high fever and Brad made me go to the ER Friday night. Silly me thought I'd be fine with an Airbourne and a good night's sleep, never connecting the dots that the problem with my hand was causing my fever.

I'm very grateful for my persistent husband because they said if the infection had gone another 24 hours I might have lost my hand! (Oh my!) I guess the moral of the story is: Never think you are too busy to go to the doctor and, if you have a degree in English, you're not really qualified to make major medical decisions.

I spent Christmas Eve in tears because it looked like I was going to miss Christmas with my family. The ER doctor said it might take 2 days of IV meds to get my white cell blood count back to normal. But by Saturday night, I was doing so much better that the doctor on that shift had mercy on me and let me go home with a goodie bag of some mega antibiotics. I was so grateful to spend Christmas morning in my own home with my sweet family. We had such fun watching Victoria enjoy her first Christmas and loved every minute being together as a family.

I haven't gotten approval from the family to post Christmas pics so I'm just using the ones above and below that we had taken earlier. There will be an upcoming new year's post looking back at our crazy year and I promise to post more then.

Merry Christmas to you all! I hope you had a blessed day celebrating the birth of our Savior.

With Much Love,
Kathie and Family

Dear Family and Friends,

Happy holidays from the old woman who lives in a shoe (she had so many children . . . you know the rest.) I was tempted to skip the whole Christmas card/letter this year, but I’m proud of the fact that I have managed to keep all five children alive and kind of wanted to prove it.

This time last year we were still trying to process the news that I was pregnant again at the biblically equivalent age of Abraham’s wife when she had Isaac. On June 6 we were blessed with Victoria Kate. It was not how we had ever dreamed we would spend our 19-year wedding anniversary, but I must say it was the best anniversary gift I’ve ever gotten. (Nothing says romance like ice chips in a hospital gown.)

We are still celebrating this sweet addition to our family. Thanks to you all for your love and prayers with her arrival. (Our photos were taken by our friend at http://www.kylevalencia.com/ . He apparently has expertise in Photoshopping dark circles and drool.)

If I have learned one thing in life, it’s been to give thanks for unexpected gifts. At times I’ve been like a typical kid at Christmastime with a thoughtfully drafted wish-list for God. My kids usually forego an itemized list, but I do get some well-meaning hints. Not wanting to act greedy, they mention a particular item then end with a disclaimer--“if it doesn’t cost too much” or “if I get this I’ll never ask for another thing . . . promise.” I’m ashamed to admit that my prayers have included some of those very same words.

There have been years that I’ve received some gifts from God I didn‘t ask for. At the time they didn’t look like gifts at all because they were packaged as sickness, need, loss, pain. I looked up at my Heavenly Father, with the same face that my kids would give me if I gave them a present of socks and underwear or coal and switches, and like a child exclaimed, “Are you kidding me? This isn’t what I asked for! There must be some mistake.” It often took years to see that this was something I could give thanks for--that He chose what I needed over what I wanted and wrapped it with His grace.

And then there have been years of opening fabulous gifts . . . extravagant gifts--gifts that I didn’t ask for, gifts that I didn’t think I needed, gifts that I certainly didn’t deserve. One such gift is the baby I’m holding in my arms this year. Another such gift is the baby Mary held in hers more than 2,000 years ago.

It was the most unexpected gift. Instead of a prince born to royalty, He came as a baby born to poor homeless parents. Instead of a King on a throne, He was a Savior on a cross. It’s this time of year that I’m convicted that I’ve been looking at the wrong wish-list.

Much of the past 12 months is a beautiful blur, but perhaps the one word that sums up how I feel this year is GRATEFUL. Although this is where I usually share the highlights of the past year, somehow all the “what we’ve done” seems so trite compared to the list of “what we’ve been given.”

The other day I read a quote that got me thinking. “What if you woke up tomorrow with only the things you thanked God for today?” My list is long, but it would start with: “Thank you, God, for my five precious children granted to me by birth and by adoption. Thank you for my dear husband and partner that you’ve given me for this crazy adventure. Thank you for our wonderful family and friends, who humble us year after year with their love and support. Thank you for the gift of a Baby in a manger and a Savior on a cross. Thank you for the blessing of unexpected gifts. ”

If I wake up tomorrow with only those things, it is more than enough.

Merry Christmas and Blessed New Year from the Williams Family

Happy Thanksgiving!

Well, there's about an hour left of Thanksgiving day and the rest of the world has moved full-speed ahead toward Christmas. And then there's me.

Yes, I've got big plans to do some shopping and decorating tomorrow like everyone else, but tonight I just want to hold on to Thanksgiving a bit longer. Today was such a sweet time with our extended families that I want to wrap up every memory and dine on the leftovers for the next few weeks.

Today I'm grateful for my precious family (most of these photos are from a visit a few weeks ago to a pumpkin patch, a couple are from today) . . .





For my amazing husband . . .



For my sweet boys . . .


And my sweet girls . . .





Especially the one celebrating her first Thanksgiving today.

Thank you, God, for all five pumpkins in my pumpkin patch. I'm so very grateful for your faithfulness in my life!

Happy Thanksgiving from the Williams family!



Much Love,
Kathie

Drinking from the Saucer

Oh how I've missed you! Sorry for the extended "maternity leave." All is well. I've just been busy adjusting to having a newborn and being a mommy to five. I haven't given up blogging--oh how I love my fellowship with like-minded bloggy friends. The other day I reread the precious comments posted when Victoria was born. Thanks for the blessing you have all been to me.

My days have been reduced to survival mode moments in which I must decide between taking a shower or having lunch, getting an hour of sleep or folding a pile of laundry. I have learned to feed/diaper/soothe a newborn in the carpool line and at the grocery check-out, at a soccer/baseball/ballet practice or a parent/teacher conference, while making a phone call or preparing dinner.

Our first weeks with Victoria were hard. We were so worried about making sure she was eating enough and maintaining her body temp. She would have episodes of reflux followed by gasps for air that made this veteran mom feel like a newcomer to the job. Then she finally had an appetite but her little body just wasn't able to digest it well. She had several colicky weeks but she has finally turned the corner and is now even sleeping well at night. Praise God!

Honestly, now that Baby V is no longer crying through the afternoons/evenings, she's the easiest one of the bunch. She doesn't play a sport, doesn't need to be driven somewhere, and can't question my judgement (at least not verbally). She's too little to take ballet, be invited to a birthday party, need help with her homework, surprise me with a last-minute project, get her feelings hurt, or have friends come over. She eats everything I serve her like it's the best thing she's ever had and she never complains about her clothing. (I know those days are numbered.)

Here she is with her expression that says, "Really?!" We see this face a lot.

I've never been so tired, yet I honestly don't think I've ever been this happy. I feel like Lucy in the episode of "I Love Lucy" where she and her pal Ethel are working in a chocolate factory. At first the candies come down the conveyor belt at a manageable pace. They wrap each chocolate then put it back on the assembly line. They are doing so well that the boss increases the speed of the conveyor belt. They aren't able to keep up so they start tossing unwrapped chocolates in their tops and hiding them under their hats.

And that's what I've been doing the past 4 months--stuffing figurative chocolates in my blouse and laughing at the windfall of goodness that has been showered over this crazy lady who loves children.

It reminds me of a poem I came across many years ago called "Drinking from the Saucer." Here it is in case you've never read it.

Drinking From The Saucer
by John Paul Moore

I've never made a fortune,
And I'll never make one now
But it really doesn't matter
'Cause I'm happy anyhow

As I go along my journey
I'm reaping better than I've sowed
I'm drinking from the saucer
'Cause my cup has overflowed

I don't have a lot of riches,
And sometimes the going's tough
But with kin and friends to love me
I think I'm rich enough

I thank God for the blessings
That His mercy has bestowed
I'm drinking from the saucer
'Cause my cup has overflowed

He gives me strength and courage
When the way grows steep and rough
I'll not ask for other blessings for
I'm already blessed enough

May we never be too busy
To help bear another's load
Then we'll all be drinking from the saucer
When our cups have overflowed

The words made me smile then, but even more so now that I have moved beyond "goodness and mercy shall follow" and have entered a season of "my cup overflows."

I look at my 5 blessings--age 4 months to 14 years, all given to us by the grace of God--and my sleep-deprived eyes well up with happy tears. I'm just so very grateful for each one of them.

Grateful for Olivia--our daughter with big brown eyes and a big heart for others; the patient oldest sister to one crazy crew; our first gift from God after years of praying for a child; proof that children grow up too fast.

Grateful for Ava--our daughter who loves with her whole heart; the one who keeps us laughing and makes every day feel like a party; the one always there to offer encouragement and a hug; proof that children are just sunshine packaged in human form.

Grateful for Daniel--our son born of our hearts through the miracle of adoption; the one with a smile that can light up a room and melt your heart; a little boy made up of equal parts of humor and sensitivity; proof that God can heal what has been broken and that families are made with love.

Grateful for Brady--our son given to us after the pain of losing his brother; the one who is so gentle and caring that he as the youngest has become an example to the older ones; the sweetest snuggler in the bunch; and proof that God will not leave us in the valley of the shadow of death . . . that goodness and mercy always follow.

Grateful for Victoria--our daughter given to us by surprise and by God's grace; the one who is keeping us young and reminds us each day to cherish every sweet minute;

Our little princess who is remarkably tolerant of the crazy family she's been born into; proof that God's plan is always so much better than ours.



Thank you, Heavenly Father, for all five blessings. All so special and so loved.

It's been a long time since I've posted a "Sunday Dinner" with a scripture and a song. The past four months can be summed up with these verses:

"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen."

Ephesians 3:20-21, NIV

The song that is currently first on my playlist says what I'm feeling. It is "Your Love is Extravagant" by Casting Crowns. Yes, His love certainly is!

So Grateful,
Kathie

Finally Home!

Well, today is Father's Day, but for me every day feels like Mother's Day.

Forgive me for not posting since Victoria's birth. All is well, I just haven't had much time to update. I spent most of the past two weeks at our hospital's NICU(neonatal intensive care unit) until they finally let out baby girl come home last Wednesday. Since then I've been living in Eastern Standard Newborn Time and I'm cherishing every exhausting minute having a baby in the house again.

She spent the first 9 days of her life in the NICU until they felt she was ready to come home. They kicked me out of the hospital a week ago Friday, but--being the stalker mommy that I am--I hung out in the NICU from 8 a.m. till 5 p.m. so I could feed her myself and not miss too much of these precious newborn days.

A week ago Saturday, they thought she might be ready to come home and let me "room in" with her. I was thrilled to be able to have a sleepover with my tiny girl in this room that they have just off the NICU. Well, I'm embarrassed to admit that I was done in by a person the size of a sub sandwich. This trial run proved she wasn't quite ready and needed a few more days in the hospital.

Her biggest issue has been her inability to get enough in each feeding. For several days she was fed with the assistance of a feeding tube in her nose. She just didn't have the stamina to nurse or take a bottle for more than a few minutes. Her other problem was not being able to maintain a good body temp. Because she is so thin, she burns a lot of calories trying to keep herself warm. We have her dressed for an Arctic blizzard yet sometimes her temp goes dangerously low. Although she was delivered at 36 weeks, she was more like a baby born at 33 to 34 weeks, but we can already tell she's going to catch up quickly.

Since coming home on Wednesday, she has eaten well and her temp has been stable. Wooo hoooo! We took her to the pediatrician Friday and we were thrilled to hear that she's back to her birth weight of 5 pounds. She is certainly the miniature princess of the house and we are so grateful for the precious gift of this special girl.

I've got a little time before the next feeding to finally post some pics.

This is the first time I was able to see my baby girl. I'll never forget feeling her breath on my cheek as Brad held her up to my face. The tears were flowing in Operating Room number 1!

This was a quick photo with me and Brad before they took her to the NICU and while they were sewing me up.



I'm still so grateful for the wisdom of my doctors to go ahead and deliver via c-section. We know now that the reason she wasn't the size she should have been is because of issues with the cord.

The recovery has been a bit harder than with a regular delivery, but it granted me some additional days in the hospital. That extra time in the hospital was a blessing because it was so hard to leave her behind when they sent me home.

Here we are hanging out in the NICU.



This is Olivia meeting her baby sister for the first time. It's hard to believe that I have one daughter starting high school and another just starting out in life, but it's actually a lot of fun having such a range of ages.

Can you tell how excited Ava is to have a baby sister? She's been praying for one for several years and is overjoyed that Victoria is here.

Daniel was so precious the first time he met Victoria. It has been so special to experience this with him and see his pride in having a new little sister.



Brady is perhaps the proudest sibling of them all. He is already very protective of her and instructs all visitors to wash their hands and not touch her head. I know Brady and Victoria will have a very sweet bond that will grow over the years. He still doesn't have the confidence to hold her, but he sits by her bassinet and chats with her. It's very sweet.



Here's Victoria spending some time under the tanning bed while in the NICU because of jaundice. She's fine now and she and Daniel have the best summer tans in the family.


Here are some pics taken with my phone. They didn't appreciate flash photography in the NICU so I had to sneak these when I got a chance.

We were so happy when she was moved from the warming bed to this hospital bassinet. We knew it was one step closer to her coming home.

Who says babies can't smile? This was taken when she was 3 days old. We can't wait till she's able to smile all the time.

Here she is in her fleece Halo sleep sack. Even though the temps are in the 90's outside, our girl almost always has this on to keep her warm.

This was a sweet moment holding her in the NICU. I still have those "pinch me" moments of not believing that this little treasure is mine.

Finally the feeding tube is out! She hated it and was always pulling it out and frustrating the nurses. She didn't like the monitors' wires either. Ava sang the song "I've Got No Strings" from Pinocchio when they took it all off.

This is her at home dancing in her bed.

Oh, gotta run. Time for a feeding. Here's one more photo with her celebrating her first Father's Day with her dad and siblings.

I'm so grateful for my husband, my father and father-in-law, and my Heavenly Father. It was a special day indeed.

Much Love,

Kathie

Contractions

Made it through another week. A great week in many ways. A stressful week in many others.

The week before last my doctors appointments went well. The baby looked healthy, no signs of distress, no issues with the cord placement, and my amniotic fluid was within a more normal range.

This week showed some new concerns. The baby is fine but continues to do her Cirque du Soleil performances in utero. She prefers to be sideways or breech which is not popular with my healthcare providers this late in the pregnancy. My fluid is again in excess and, because of where the cord is, now I'm at great risk for cord prolapse and because of her continued movement there is concern about another cord accident.

Last Thursday my regular doctor treated me like I was a walking time bomb--asking me how quickly I could get to the hospital if my water broke and making me promise that if it did I wouldn't take a precious minute to call or even grab my suitcase. He said that if we can catch her head down at any time with the cord in a safe placement, they will go ahead and induce.

My next scheduled appointment is Monday morning with the specialist and then in the afternoon with my regular doctor. Monday is our 19 year wedding anniversary, so having our new baby girl in our arms would sure be a sweet gift. (Brad, you are off the hook on a romantic dinner out. Ice chips and an epidural will be fine.) But I know the docs at my specialist's office really want me to go another full week if there are no signs of her in distress (so I'd be 38 weeks), so I won't be surprised or disappointed if they send me home to let her cook a bit longer.

One thing they track often with my fetal non-stress tests is contractions. I have lots of them and have since I was 28 weeks. Just false labor that is a pain in the abdomen.

I've done this with all my pregnancies. When I was expecting Ava, I started having regular contractions at 30 weeks. They were every 4 minutes apart and strong. My doctors were sure it was the real thing and admitted me to the hospital and put me on all kinds of drugs. When they finally sent me home I was on strict bedrest, lots of meds, and drank enough water on a daily basis to fill a swimming pool. At 37 weeks they took me off the meds fully expecting her to be born within hours and . . . she ended up arriving three weeks later on her due date.

And so with subsequent pregnancies, I've kind of just ignored them. It's just my body crying wolf, every 4 to 5 minutes. (Apparently there's a correlation between my excess of fluid and the frequency/strength of the contractions.) My husband will see me holding my belly in obvious pain and ask if we need to go to the hospital and I will simply answer, "No, but I could use a hot fudge sundae and a foot massage." (Hey, I'm going to milk this for all it's worth.)

As I have these contractions, I can't help but see how much they mirror the contractions of life.

Real contractions can be scary the first time you experience them. I remember the first time I felt those muscles tighten like a boa constrictor around my waist. It was something I'd never felt before and frankly it freaked me out. As my pregnancy progressed I realized that the contractions only got stronger and lasted longer. By the end I realized these early contractions were nothing compared to the ones that left me breathless and speechless and doubled over in pain. And it's these contractions that precede the birth of something amazing.

In the same way, I've had a lifetime of different kinds of emotional and spiritual "contractions." Small trials, disappointments, detours in life. At the time I thought they were the real thing. I thought the pain couldn't get any worse. I thought it was too much to bear. But soon I realized that this was just practice labor. That my broken heart could mend. That the sun would rise the next day. That the world didn't come to an end.

It's hard to watch my children experience "contractions." Last week my kids finished school. Our sweet Christian school only goes through 8th grade and Olivia will be starting over next year in high school. She hurts leaving her dear friends and teachers and school that has been home for so long. She's feeling contractions as she faces the unknowns of what is ahead. While I know these contractions are so small compared to what she will deal with later in life, I know they are very real right now, very uncomfortable, and very scary.

Daniel also experienced contractions last week. He came home on the last day of school and wept all over his lunch. It hit him all of a sudden that his precious teacher wouldn't be going to 3rd grade with him next year. He doesn't think his teacher or group of classmates will ever be as wonderful as it was this year and he is grieving. It was such a sweet year in his life that I wish I could rewind it and play it over for him, especially after him having so many years that I wish I could erase. He has already had to deal with contractions far worse, yet this pain is very real to him as well.

When my children experience these contractions and they tell me how much it hurts and they cry in my arms, all I can do is remind them that God is good and He has a wonderful plan for their lives. This is big talk from a woman who is having contractions--literally and figuratively. I don't like the pain of uncertainty. I have moments of worry that this baby might not be okay. I have doubts as I wonder if I can be a good mom to five children.

In my mind I know that the most painful contractions of all are the ones that strengthened my faith and poured out such blessings in my life. I remember that as horrible as it was to watch my mother battle cancer, because of her faith through that trial she left a legacy that will continue for generations. I remember that as heartbreaking as it was to lose our first son, that tragedy truly changed the course of our lives and such goodness and mercy has come from it that we would not have otherwise experienced.

And yet, I still want to walk through life with an epidural. I want to be exempt from hard times and I want my family to be as well. And that's when I have to remember God's faithfulness and remind myself that "God is good and He has a wonderful plan for my life." I surrender to that truth as I face the uncertainty of the week ahead.

It's almost Sunday here in Georgia, so I'm going to go ahead a post a "Sunday Dinner" for the week. My favorite scripture about contractions is:

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds,
because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. . . .

Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him. " James 1:2-3, 12, NIV

The "dessert" of song is one of my favorites right now. It's "Blessings" by Laura Story--she's one of my all-time favorite artists and sings at the church that is part of our children's school. Her lyrics so beautifully sum up what God has been trying to teach me for many years.

May you remember God's faithfulness and goodness during your own times of trials and "contractions."

Much Love,

Kathie

P.S. I'm having trouble posting comments on other blogs! For a couple weeks, when I log in to leave a comment it lists me as anonymous, then when I try to leave the comment it disappears. It seems to be a problem with Blogger. If anyone knows how to fix it let me know. Thanks!

Safe

Thanks so much to so many of you for your prayers for us this week. My appointment with the specialist went well Monday. There are still no problems with the cord, however my amniotic fluid continues to increase and the baby continues to do her acrobatic routine which makes us all a bit nervous.

My doctor at the specialist's office was much kinder at this appointment. Not a mention of words like "defect" or "problem." That was a good move on his part because I didn't have time to print out Psalm 139 and this hormonally challenged mama knows all 24 verses, was armed with a Sharpie, and spent an hour staring at a bare wall needing embellishment. (Yes, these days I'm one insensitive comment away from destruction of private property.)

I got to take Daniel and Brady with me Monday morning because the younger grades at our school had a teacher work day. They loved seeing their baby sister on the big screen. They kept saying "that's so cool" as red and blue lights illuminated the flow of blood to the baby and "oh, she's so cute" when we'd get a glimpse of her face. (I never realized my insides could provide such entertainment.) It was really a sweet time with them and was a comfort to me to hear them talk about her with such love and excitement.

I had another ultrasound today at my regular doctor. There was a bit of concern because the cord is again around her neck, but this time it's loose and not wrapped multiple times. There were no signs today of distress and my doctors felt it safe to go home.

Safe.

The definition of the word "safe" has changed for me considerably over the years. It was a word I never gave much thought to until I became a mom--then suddenly I was obsessed with keeping my children safe. Safety seats, safety locks, safety seals, safety helmets, safety precautions. I realized about 15 minutes after becoming a mother--as I watched Olivia sleep out of fear that she might stop breathing--that keeping your child safe can become a full-time job if you let it.

So when we lost a baby at 36 weeks, my first thought was that I hadn't kept him safe. That somehow I should have known he was in trouble. That I had failed him as his mother. But then I remembered something that happened just hours before he died. Some day I will try to share it, but all you really need to know is that it taught me that there are no accidents. God knew the number of our son's days. He knew that January 9, 2004, his earthly heart would stop beating and this wasn't something that was supposed to have been prevented. And He also knew this mother's heart would be broken. He knew this because thousands of years before, Christ carried my sorrow to the cross. Knowing that this was His plan released me from guilt and freed me from fear.

But here I am again, wanting to keep this baby safe. And often I fall back into my old thinking. I'll wake up at 3:00 a.m. in a cold sweat and lay there till I feel a reassuring kick. And I'll think, "She's safer outside of my body, than within it."

That's when conviction pours over me and I remember God's faithfulness. That's when I surrender that the absolute safest place this baby could be is out of my reach and completely in His hands.

I know once she is born, my tendency to want to bubble wrap her through life will continue. I will have to fight it on a daily basis.

I had proof of this last Sunday as I put my 14 year old Olivia on a bus headed to Washington D.C. for their 8th grade trip. I wished I had been able to go as one of the chaperones, not just so I could enjoy this experience with her but also so I could keep her safe.

As the bus pulled away, I'm ashamed to admit that I said a prayer for her safety out of fear of the "what-ifs"--not out of surrender to God's sovereignty. In about 30 seconds I was able to come up with a hundred reasons why I shouldn't let her go. It wasn't until I actually thought about running after the bus, 8 months pregnant, and demanding that they let her off did I realize my foolishness. And once again, I realized that the absolute safest place she could be is completely in His hands.

I will go to bed tonight with complete peace that I don't need to count kicks or go back to the hospital to be monitored. It's simply because I know God loves this baby even more than I do and has a perfect plan for her life.

Much Love,

Kathie