So Long! Farewell! Aufwiedersehn! Good[bye]

Yes yes...I know I changed the words just a tiny bit, but I couldn't help it. It's what came to my mind when I realized I should type up a sort of farewell.

I'm guessing this does not come as a surprise. I mean, it's been MONTHS since my last post. Aubrey is already 9 months old (and I haven't even taken her 9 month photos yet! *gasp* Though I've thankfully taken all her other monthly sets of pics...mostly on time).

It's not that I don't enjoy sitting to type up a random post about my day or share my heart with all of you. And let's be honest, sometimes I'm really preaching to myself when I type up an "on my heart" sort of post.

But with all the adjustments that came when we welcomed our second, and with all the activity and nurturing and life being lived over here, something had to give, and I was certainly not going to give up my time in the word without a fight - not that I get it every day, but it certainly is my goal. (You guys, any time I think of spending time with my Jesus, I hear the words to "Lord, I Need You" playing over and over and over. I cannot be a good mom, wife, sister, friend without Him. I need Him daily!) So when it came down to the wire, I found myself cutting out Facebook - if you head over to my page, the last post you're going to see is...honestly, I'm not even sure because I haven't checked it in months, but I cut out both my page and my personal account; it's all gone - and not taking time to sit and write.

I can and do enjoy writing, but I have journals for my children and my hubby I would much rather see words put into and taking time to write in those is even difficult.

All of this to say, I will miss my blogging community via sharing myself here in this small space of the web. I do plan to stay connected by reading the blogs I was already following when I can, which honestly is a rareity, but I do enjoy when I am able.

Here's to closing this particular chapter in my life! May you all enjoy your holidays!


4 Months

I should be napping. You know, resting while my two little ones are asleep. And yet, I really want to write this out before I take Aubrey's 4 month pictures in hopes I can publish it in the next few days. Life with two kids is the best whirlwind to be caught up in, though I'd be lying if I said it was all a piece of cake.

I can't capture it in these photos, since I'm always by myself, but you smile like this while hiding your face in the shoulder of whoever is holding you
Maybe I should nap and try to write when I'm more awake...the words you're reading are the only ones coming to my mind.

Such a happy girl!
4 Month Stats
  • You have gained 3 pounds since your 2 month visit: you weigh 15 lbs 10.2 oz.
  • Though I'm not 100% sure of how accurate these measurements are, my guess is they can't be too far off as your clothes size seems to say it's right: you measure 25.75 inches.
  • You're in size 3 disposable diapers and after a week of disposables, may I say I am SO happy to be using cloth again because we have had 0 blowouts in them but every dirty diaper was a blowout, even with, in my opinion, the best disposable.
  • You fit in 6-9 month and 9 month size clothes.
Blurry picture...I know. I just love the face you're making :)
  • You are all out belly chuckling. The easiest way to make you laugh is to hold you facing out, then chase Zoë. Squeals of delight and tons of belly laughter ensue when we play that game.
  • You prefer to have someone to "talk" to and will babble for as long as you have someone's attention.
  • You can roll from tummy to back and back to tummy. As much as you dislike being on your tummy, you are almost always trying to get on your tummy when you're on your back.
  • Sometimes you do everything to get yourself on your side to sleep. While you still sleep on your back, I will occasionally have to sneak into the room for something and you're sacked out on your side, usually you're right side.
  • You have found your fingers, though never your thumb. All in the last week you went from sucking on any form of 2-3 fingers, occasionally all four, to preferring your two middle fingers. Also, though you'll use either hand, you prefer your right.
  • You are almost always all smiles. You really only fuss if you've had to wait too long between meals, are overtired, or we've missed the fact that your diaper needs to be changed.
Your smile seriously lights up a room.
  • If you're tired, you will act like you might smile, then pout and cry.
  • You ADORE and cannot get enough of  your sister :) The great part is she wants to play with you a lot too. I'm sure once you're more mobile the two of you are going to be best buds.
  • You are perfecting blowing/making spit bubbles.
  • You LOVE to blow raspberries. This is especially true when we're putting you down for a nap or bed. You will leave a huge wet spot on our shirts from blowing them. We can't help but laugh when you do it.
Goodness you are getting long!
  • Though it may be a while before teeth cut, we're pretty sure you are teething. For a while I wasn't sure if I could feel something under your gums or not. Either way, you're definitely in the stage of needing a bib :)
  • You love Cody. We know because he would lay right next to you and you wouldn't move as much. Also, (oh, how this grosses me out) he would lick you and you wouldn't make a peep. Gag!!
  • You are beginning to reach for objects. Though your hand doesn't always get where you want it, you will focus on whatever you want, lean towards it, and gruuuuuuuunt. 
  • You grasp any object placed close enough to your hands.
You make this face a lot. And, though I'm not sure why, it makes me laugh. every. time.


It has been a joy to have you in my life these past 4 months. Watching you grow and seeing bits of your personality begin to unfold is so fun. You are such a delight, definitely a "happy" baby. I can't wait to see all you add to our family!

I love you!


3 Months In...Golly Gee

*Note: so while I had every intention of posting this and writing a little note to Aubrey right around her 3 month birthday, I didn't get to it. Honestly, I don't feel like I sit in front of my computer much these days, though I'm working to figure out the best way to make it routine again. I haven't even uploaded the pics on my camera, so you're getting the ok pics from my phone*

I'm going to play the broken record of parenthood: time flies! My sweet baby is already 3 months old. And I'm lost here on my blog because I'm attempting to soak it all in.

Her smile kills me! Sooo contagious.

As I think back on this past month, I'm realzing there aren't many changes as far as Aubrey's growth. Or I'm so used to being around her, or tired, or both, I'm missing the obivious milestones she is reaching. Either way, I am trying to live in the present and enjoy both of my tiny blessings amidst the difficulties parenting brings.

She ADORES her big sister!

With that being said...

3 Month Stats
  • According to our scale, you weigh a little over 15 pounds.
  • You barely fit in size 6 month clothes, though size 6-9 months is slightly big on you and 9 months is definitely big. Of course, we use those sizes because with cloth diapers, you're definitely too big for size 6 months.
  • You're in size 2 diapers if we use disposables.
  • You haven't repeated it but you giggled at Gigi when we were visiting the last week of April.
  • You have started doing a "shy" smile when someone is attempting to get you to smile. It is SO cute! You'll scrunch one side of your nose up, smile, and hide your face in my shoulder.
  • Zoë gets the best smiles out of you! It is apparent you love your sister and I'm even thinking I've seen some discontent with being stuck while she's running around.
  • If you are propped on your side, you will roll to your tummy. However, I'm pretty sure you're not doing it on purpose as you still hate being on your tummy. The only time you will stay quiet is if I've put you on it when you're sleepy. Then you will occasionally quietly watch and fall asleep if I let you.
  • If I time it right, you take a 2 to 2.5 hour nap in the morning and early afternoon. Then, if you don't decide to have witching hour, which is thankfully generally mild, you will nap from around 4:30 to 6.
  • Depending on your mood, you will nurse anywhere from 15 minutes total to 50 minutes. The longer times are generally your last "awake" time to nurse.
  • You will occasionally squeal. We haven't figured out what brings out the squeals, but they are definitely peals of content escaping your lips.
  • You are perfecting the art of spit bubbles.
  • If I set you on your back on the play mat, you scoot yourself backwards. You've even moved over a little ways from where you were.
  • You've started talking to inanimate objects. You're favorite is a frog rattle hanging off your play gym. However, you've learned to enjoy and like the musical star on the play gym.
  • You've begun smiling and talking to me while you're nursing. It makes for lengthier sessions, but I don't mind. Sometimes you will even coo just to get my attention.


!mpact: Great Leadership Changes Everything [Book Review & Giveaway]

I might have been a little crazy when I signed up to review a book last month. Let me remind you: I am in the throws of raising a two year old and I have an infant. (Thus the lack of activity with random frequent posts.) But I just couldn't pass the opportunity up to review a book on a topic as old as time and which will be around as long as the Earth still spins on it's current axis: leadership.

Sometimes we talk about it bluntly. Other times we seem to be talking about nothing in particular, yet leadership really is weaved into the fibers of the conversation. Yet, whether out in the open or under cover, many of us are always searching for ways to make a lasting impact. And we want to avoid the horrid mistakes of leaders whose demise has flashed all over every form of media we have. Honestly, I feel I am daily in a position where my leadership is challenged and will affect the future for better or worse (aka parenting).

In his book Impact, Dr. Tim Erwin discusses how "in the pursuit of making an impact, we inevitably collide with barriers" (p. 7). He delves deep into what is so different about the leaders who have risen to the top, only to fall, and those who have left a powerful legacy behind. And he acknowledges a fact many wish to ignore: we are all capable of leaving a powerful legacy or of shattering any hope of ever making a mark on society worthy of accolades.

With that point in mind, Erwin dissects his thesis: every human has a core and it's from the core we lead. Thus the book focuses on maintaining the integrity of the core. But he writes in such a way it captures your attention. There are so many stories throughout it hits home on a personal level. I even found myself grateful for the many tips he gives and wanting to share them with those around me in an effort to maintain a strong core.

I'm  not usually one to read books on leadership, especially considering they usually focus so much on being in a coroporate work environment, and while Erwin's overall tone is for the corporate world, I still found I could relate to it and use it within my own profession of mothering. Will some of it need to be adapted to my particular situation? Of course! However, I don't know of a single self-help or business, as in this case, book which may need some minor adaptations to perfectly fit into the situation you're if you are not the bulls eye audience. Though, I did find what he wrote related well to my past experiences with a corporate job in a medical facility, which left me enjoying what I read and thinking everyone, no matter what their vocation, should take time to read Impact.

(I know I kept it short and sweet, but I honestly I didn't want to give away too much as Erwin says it much better than I would.)

As I read, I was constantly contemplating a question I was asked to ponder by the sponsor for the giveaway: "Do parents make a difference in preparing their children for the workplace?"

I whole heartedly believe the answer is "YES!" We have the ability to take time to help our children learn solid character qualities. We are in a position to teach our children integrity or deceit, laziness or diligence. We train our children how to handle social interaction. We help our children to believe they should only try so hard because their is only so far they can go or the sky's the limit. And all of it plays into how they will do in the work place, whatever that may mean for them.

Now, on to your chance to win a copy! (Yay!)

I have one copy of IMPACT: Great Leadership Changes Everything to give away. The giveaway is open to US residents with a physical address (no P.O. boxes, sorry!) age 18 and up. It begins today, Friday, April 25th CST, and will close on Thursday, May 8 CST. The only mandatory entry for the giveaway is to leave a blog comment; I would love if you'd answer the same question I was asked: "Do parents make a difference in preparing their children for the workplace?" The winner will be randomly selected via random.org. They will be announced in an addendum at the top of this post within 48 hours of the giveaway's close. I will also contact them via e-mail. (Please ensure you use a valid, working e-mail address to enter with when you comment and/or leave your e-mail address in your comment.) The winner will have 48 hours to contact me via e-mail at mylifestidbits@gmail.com to claim their prize. I will need the winners full name and physical  address to forward to the giveaway sponsor so they can mail the winner their prize. For any other information regarding giveaways hosted on my blog, please visit the official giveaway page.

Happy reading!

Disclosure (in accordance with the FTC's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising"): Many thanks to Propeller Consulting, LLC for providing this prize for the giveaway. Choice of winners and opinions are 100% my own and NOT influenced by monetary compensation. I did receive a sample of the product in exchange for this review and post. Only one entrant per mailing address, per giveaway. If you have won the same prize on another blog, you are not eligible to win it again. Winner is subject to eligibility verification.


2 Months Old

As time continues to fly, I'm beginning to realize the speed at which my children grow is beginning to surprise me a little less, though it still elicits a shake of my head and a little disbelief. I think it always will. Something I am grateful for, though, is how, with time, I am learning to cherish each moment given me. I'm actually finding myself soaking in the little moments.

And it's a good thing too because I feel Aubrey is growing at a more rapid pace than Zoë did, probably because she is bigger than Zoë was at 2 months. (Ha! And soon I will be needing to post a 3 month post. I'm also behind which makes her feel much older.)

(I'm so bummed! I looked at the pics when I took them, but I must have been really tired because they are none as good as I thought I'd captured with my little point 'n shoot. Boo!)

2 Month Stats
  • You weigh 12 lbs 11 oz (84 %ile), measured 24 inches long (98 %ile), and your head circumference was 15.5 inches (85 %ile).
  • You are fully on a schedule now, and though you're a pretty flexible baby, you prefer to stick with your schedule and will find ways to get back on track if I'm not paying attention. Here is what your typical day looks like:
- wake around 7 am and nurse
- down for a nap around 8:30/8:45
-wake somewhere around 11 and nurse
-down for another nap between 12:30/12:45
-if you sleep well, I usually have to wake you around 3 and you nurse
-you either fight this nap and I nurse you at 5 or you go back down for a nap around 4:30/4:45
-either way the rest of the evening becomes crazy because you usually want to nurse when you wake from the nap around 5:45/6ish (I prefer to keep bedtime between 7/7:30, but you won't always nurse well if you eat at 6) or you want to be held the rest of the evening
-bath every other night
-swaddle and nurse while we read and sing with you and Zoë around 7
*note* This "schedule" is more what I aim for and have found makes you most content when we can get it - as noted above that you will try to get back to it if I've somehow managed to get off track. However, there are many days this just doesn't even come anywhere close to being the outline of our day. C'est la vie!

You're my little chubby baby! Those cheeks! I kiss them all. the. time!
  • Speaking of nursing, you're a drowsy nurser, but you like your milk so much that you've managed to figure out how to nurse anywhere from 10-15 minutes/side (sometimes less!) and get everything you need. You almost always look like you're coming out of a milk-induced coma when you're finished because you've partially fallen asleep and usually have a little bit of milk on your chin.
  • You aren't much of a fan of having a wet diaper, to the point I have to change you before the liner is really even completely wet most of the time.
  • Everyone asks who you look like, and while you have many similarities to your older sister, you are also uniquely you, which I love! For instance, your lips are different. And though I can't always put my finger on it, there are just features which make you, well...you!
  • You LOVE to snuggle! There are moments I have thought you were asleep because you weren't moving and had nestled right into me. But when I look, I see you're not even tired, just enjoying being held.
  • You hate tummy time, though you're beginning to tolerate it more as you're able to pick your head up more and more.
  • You hold you're head up really well most of the time. Sometimes you lose control and bang your head into my clavicle or jaw...those moments aren't so pretty, though sometimes I'm more phased by it than you.
  • You started smiling right before your two month old birthday. However, we've noticed you smile with your eyes and will try to not smile with your lips sometimes. It's really cute to watch you and I always wonder what is going on in your mind.
Your first "See How I'm Growing" picture
  • You love, love, love your sister. You enjoy watching her, smiling at her, being next to her. Well...most of the time! You're not a fan of when she is trying to share take over my lap while I'm nursing or holding you. Though I can't say I blame you, as that usually means her comfortable position is uncomfortable for you and I'm maneuvering both of you to keep you from being squished and her happy.
You even allow the torture of an empty bottle. I'm pretty sure she thinks you're her baby doll :)
  • Oh, you're in 3-6 month/6 month size clothes. And though we don't use them that much, you're in a size 2 diaper. If you keep growing at the rate you are, my guess is we will have to buy new clothes for you because the seasons won't match up.
  • You love to work on building leg strength by us holding up you and letting you stand. Sometimes you'll stand for several minutes before you decide you need a break.
  • We tried to get you to take a paci, but with no success. You have a high enjoyment of sucking on your fist, but I guess because you take the bottle like a champ, you expect a paci to put out. And when it doesn't, you squint your face into a "I don't like this" contortion, and promptly spit the paci out. I can only hope you don't start sucking your thumb...
  • We are having a time coming up with a nick name for you. Daddy wanted to call you Bear, but I just don't find that sticking. 
Obviously, this isn't from your 2 month old pictures, but because I took it not much later than your 2 month pics, I had to share it. Such a happy baby with a sweet smile!
My Sweet, Sweet Aubrey,

Though I'm so glad you're healthy, I'm no fan of how rapidly you're growing. The tiny, curled-in-a-fetal-position infant doesn't happen much anymore, though I am grateful you enjoy cuddling. I am so grateful for you! Though I can slightly remember what life was like before you joined us, I do not miss it at all. You already add so much to our little family!

While you seem to be very laid back, you are not shy about telling us what you need. You are very adament about your dislike of a wet bum or telling us when you're ready to change scenery or even if we've kept you up too long. 

I am loving getting to know you more every day! I can't wait to see how your personality unfolds!

I love you!


2 years old (What?!)

I could also title this post "Mom Is Only Capable of Keeping Us Alive Right Now".  As witnessed by the lack of blogging these days. Though we are thoroughly exhausted, I can't blame it on a child who isn't sleeping: she is already sleeping through the night and I'm getting to go to bed, usually no later than 11:30 as I give her a dream feed somewhere between 10 and 11.

I had every intention of getting Zoë's 2 year old post up no long after we went for her check-up, as it was already several weeks past her birthday, but that just didn't happen. (As I type this, I'm reminded of how much I enjoy feeling the weight of the keys give to the pressure of my finger...I gotta get back into some of my "loves" so it's more than pure survival over here...) However, all that being said, I am okay with the fact I am only able to keep myself, a two year old, and an infant alive at this time. I know the time like this is short lived in the grand scheme of things and when I look back, I want to be able to have no regrets when it comes to my children. And so blogging, amidst a plethora of other activities, have fallen on the back burner for the time being.

Anyway, this post is about the little cutie patootie pictured. The girl who has turned my world upside down and left me not wanting it righted.

I seriously cannot believe we are full on into the throws of toddlerhood. She didn't need to hit two for me to say that, either. And while the days are long, the nights are short, the years seem to be slipping through my fingers and all I can hope is that if she can remember this time in her life, she will be left with many happy memories over my many failures which seem to creep up on an almost consistent basis.

My Sweet Zoë,

Life seems to be moving so, so fast. Too fast for me to even remember writing down some of the amazing parts of life you are learning. For instance, just two nights ago, as we were sitting in the rocker talking (When did you get big enough to have a mini sized conversation?!), you formed a 5 word sentence properly. It was a cute one too. (Well, I think almost everything you do is cute.) But, honestly, it really was and yet I can't remember what you said for the life of me.

These past couple weeks have been rough as you've needed Mommy a lot, and in my exhaustion, I have become highly irritable. While my heart hurts when I don't love you the best way I can and I fall short of the way you need, I am able to catch small glimpses of the HUGE personality you have: you are so quick to forgive with a kiss on my cheek, sometimes even snuggling into me as if to say "It's going to be ok." And it will. We survive. We start afresh the following day. But it doesn't take away me wondering at times how we will survive these rough years of your discovering and testing the boundaries.

Oh, how you love to test the limits! Your will is strong. While I am grateful you have a strong will, because it will mean you are going to assert yourself, I also find myself on my knees asking God to help me mold that will so it is used for greater purposes than self. For the time being, there are many times you get this lovely little gleam in your eye as if to say, "Do you really mean what you're telling me?"

You LOVE to play! You pretend play a lot these days; one of your favorite activities is talking on the phone. And though I don't get to talk to her much, you're favorite person to call is Aunt Sarah. I'll be in the kitchen, turn to check on you, and see this scene unfold: you pick up the phone, place it to your ear, and say, "Hello, Aunt Sarah!" You'll then start walking around the living room and tell her a few things, most of which I can't make out, and finish with "Good-bye!" and shut your phone.

You have also mastered the art of stacking several blocks, putting shapes into the shape sorter, imagining certain shapes out of almost anything (and sometimes even I can see the shape you're depicting), singing several songs - Jesus, Loves Me, Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, ABCs, Old McDonald, Skidamarink (You call it Dink a Dink), The Bare Necessities (Just the beginning; you call it Bare Cessities) -, and climbing up and down stairs. 

You also are enthralled with everything silly. This is nothing new, however. You have loved to make people laugh and searched to find or make something, anything, funny for a long time. And the way you go about this changes as you get older. But whichever way you can capture the attention of those around you and engage them in laughter, you will find it and then repeat it until it no longer works.

And you are possessing the role of big sister like a champ! You absolutely love to help with anything related to Aubrey and, though I'm only guessing off of how you act, I'm pretty sure you can't wait for her to grow up so you guys can play together. You want to share everything with her. You even want to share your food with her. (Thankfully, you are starting to wrap your mind around the concept she's too little for many of the things you love and want to share.)

I am so thankful for you, Zoë! And so, so glad I get to call you mine!!



The Birth of a Rainbow Baby

*Let me warn you: I will likely overshare. I truly want to remember everything surrounding this birth, especially as a reminder to myself of what I accomplished so differently from my first birth experience. Also, it's going to be long.*

I can't quit saying it, to myself and out loud: I have a rainbow baby. I am blessed with a rainbow baby. My arms are holding the blessing of a rainbow baby. A living, breathing child outside the womb. (I may annoy you with how much I mention Aubrey being my rainbow baby. It's where I'm living and constantly consumes my thoughts. I apologize for my overuse of the label.)

"Our rainbow baby is here. She's actually here," I whisper.

The tears overtake me. Tears of joy. gratitude. grief. happiness. disbelief. love. The emotions are overwhelming, but I let them come.

I don't want to forget her big debut. Something in me says I never will, but I want the memory preserved.


As crystal clear as the day it happened.

Wednesday. February 5. 2014.

Leading up to the fifth I walked around in early labor. Contractions off and on for at least a week and a half. A few "this is it" contractions followed by lulls or no change in intensity. With every day my body would practice more, with more intensity. And each passing day found me drawing deeper and deeper into myself.

I began to internalize my feelings of wanting to punch anyone who tried to tell me I was going to make it...to my due date. I was also becoming very antsy as the room I had left to give was gone and being stretched to the nth degree. Not to mention I was constantly battling fear of "what ifs" which seemed ten times larger in the face of the Fact: Aubrey would be our rainbow baby.

"Lord, please bring Aubrey here safe and sound. And would you please have her come soon? I feel like my body can't handle too much more of this," I constantly prayed.

I was so anxious for "the real deal" each contraction automatically sent me into hoping this would be the time. I wanted her here so desperately I would even randomly toy with ideas of inducing labor. Only for a split second, but they still seemed slightly appealing. Anything to hold my sweet Aubrey in my arms.

Thankfully, I waited.

I woke around 4 am on the fifth with contractions similar to those I would experience between my "normal" Braxton-Hicks: like mild cramps. They seemed to be coming pretty regularly as I took my usual 500th middle of the night bathroom run and then lay in bed wide eyed with excitement. Somewhere in there I convinced myself to go back to sleep. I knew I would need it whether or not it was the real deal.

By 6 the intensity was picking up and they were coming so close together any hope of further sleep was out of the picture. They were coming every 2 to 3 minutes, though I wasn't aware of it at the time. Part of me was too afraid to voice it being the real deal: I had experienced two runs with 6+ hours of Braxton-Hicks when I was pregnant with Zoë. The second ended up becoming her birth story, but it was everything I was trying to avoid this go round.

"What if this was just a different version of my Braxton-Hicks situation with Zoë?" I thought.

Yet, I didn't want to be caught giving birth at home (some people don't mind but that has no appeal to me, especially considering I live in an apartment complex) so I told Ben I was going to shower and wanted him to track contractions with my phone.

"Don't get too excited,"  I said. "It's probably not anything...but I just want to be sure."

That was when we realized how close they were. And they weren't letting up. Nothing was stopping them and walking only made them stronger.

It was then I began getting snappy as my mom, who thankfully had arrived in town two days earlier so we could spend time prebaby's arrival, and Ben were both getting excited. Can't say I would change my snappiness either: what woman in labor wants to be asked if she's in labor? Or have jokes cracked at as she leans against a wall because it's the most comfortable way to go with the contraction? Or have a question asked that just seems plain stupid?

I found myself wanting to be left alone, yet my 23 month old was following me around, we were still trying to pack our bags, and I wanted to make sure I ate before we left as I knew full well I wouldn't be able to eat anything after arriving at the hospital (for which I am very glad looking back). The feeling of drawing deeper into myself became really strong. It took everything in me not to snap at my child who was being highly needy; I'm sure her neediness was correlated to my labor. I didn't even try to control my snappiness when it came to my hubby or my mom. (Man does he love me! And my mom...well that goes without saying. She put up with raising me :])

About an hour later, Ben had all our bags and my pillows (the back seat could have made a comfy bed for someone who wasn't in labor) in the car, we had both put in a decent meal, we kissed our first born good-bye, and told my mom not to call us unless it was an emergency and to tell no one we had gone to the hospital. "Oh! That's going to be so hard!" were her words as I waddled out the door hating the Houston traffic I knew we were getting ready to drive into.

Ben did an excellent job of getting us through the traffic in less than an hours time. Without making me yell at him because of discomfort too. I'm pretty sure the only raising of a voice during that ride was when my chapstick was lossed for what seemed like forever, but was probably more like a mere accumulation of maybe...oh, 5 seconds. I had to have my chapstick! (Pretty sure I used that chapstick at least 349209184 times during labor, too.)

Unfortunately, his driving did nothing for the stress all the traffic caused me. Which seemed to pull a number on my body and I could barely feel my contractions. I kept telling Ben I was not going to be happy if I had been in some period-like discomfort all morning (I wish I could have plugged my heating pad in in my car...well, not really as it didn't sound comfortable, but I was wishing I was standing rather than sitting during several contractions) only to get to the hospital and hear that it hadn't done anything from my appointment the week before. (I was almost a 4 and 50% at my 38 week check.) Actually, I'd likely say some really not nice words. If practicing was going to change intensity to real labor at home, only to be scared off by the ridiculous amount of traffic Houston produces in the morning and evening rushes, I would rather keep this baby in. (Ummm...says what 39 week, uncomfortably pregnant woman ever?! Me apparently...)

Thankfully, Ben put up with all my nonsense talk. All the fear gushing out of me that maybe I'd read the messages my body was sending wrong. All the "WHERE ON THIS BLANKETY BLANK EARTH DID MY CHAPSTICK GO?!" (Yeah...I apparently get a little crazy when I'm in labor and lose my chapstick and can't find it when I need it. Oi vey.) All the "I really think I'm just going to cry if they send me home...I'm soo uncomfortable I don't think I can keep her in much longer."

We finally arrived at the hospital a mere 45 minutes later. (This is amazing considering we were in rush hour traffic and as far as I know Ben didn't speed ridiculous amounts to get there.) As he was pulling in he asked if I wanted to be dropped off. To which I snappily replied I wasn't sick and would walk with him from the garage to the assessment floor. So we parked. We walked. And thankfully I was taken back to a room in less than 2 minutes.

Of course, the assessment nurse starts asking you questions and since your husband doesn't know all the answers you have moments where you raise your hand while you work with a contraction. You almost want to tell them to go find the answers in their computer or just put patient wouldn't answer. And then the dreaded checking. They have to to admit you. And no one in a hospital knows how or is willing to check you without putting you flat on your back. (The most uncomfortable position for a laboring woman. Honestly, for a full-term pregnant woman.)

But I almost jumped for joy as I heard, "5cm and 90%". Hallelujah! I had my ticket in. This baby was working her way out!! (I should also mention, the staff at the hospital I birthed at was AMAZING!! There is only one person we interacted with I'd be ok with never seeing again. Otherwise, we were blessed above and beyond by our caretakers through the entirety of our two days.) We also realized, shortly after the nurse calling my doc to tell him I was being admitted, the reason I thought my contractions were puttering off was because some of them were so mild on the pain scale and in comparison to others, I could barely feel them. (Oh was I hopeful this meant the pain wouldn't get crazy intense!)

We talked and laughed between contractions. Ben held my hand and stayed quiet during contractions. Everything was going seemingly easy.

After about an hour we were moved to my labor and birth room. I knew we were in good hands when my nurse was asking me a couple questions, so I mentioned my birth plan, and I found she had already read over it since it had been scanned into the system. After talking with her a bit, I found out she has four kids and had had three of hers unmedicated. God was good and blessing me out the wazoo for this go round!

Contractions continued in the same manner they had been at home with the exception of them being closer to 3-4 minutes apart. Since arriving at the hospital they had seemed to pick back up. Yet my OB and nurse both commented on how I would bounce back as though nothing was going on after contractions. I also thought maybe I would be one of the lucky people who aren't too phased by labor...just maybe. At least, I hoped maybe labor would stay this easy. As long as I focused on breathing, the discomfort was really quite manageable. We even played a couple hands of gin rummy while I sat on the birthing ball.

However, after a few hours of "easy" labor, my contractions began to be really uncomfortable. I also became so nauseous I would dry heave with almost every contraction (thus the reason I was grateful I hadn't had any food since 7 that morning). Standing and slightly leaning on someone or something was the only position I found any ease to breath while my contractions did their work. It wasn't much longer after the intensity of my contractions changed that a resident walked into the room with my nurse and I asked to be checked. I was sure my body had made progress after laboring in this manner for a good four hours and feeling a change in intensity.

I wasn't prepared to hear I had barely dilated from the 5 I was at time of admittance. (Plus, that was horrid news after the worst pain being checked could produce. That resident...she was not considerate of the fact she was dealing with sensitive parts that were already sore from all the work going on down there. Sheesh!) Though it was a relief to know I was completely effaced. And to know Aubrey had at least moved from a +1 to a 0 station. (Even a small amount of progess sounded good to this laboring woman.) The resident, who apparently could have cared less about my birth plan, immediately suggested breaking my water to speed labor up. I looked at Ben who calmly told me I needed to do what I felt was best. After not much thought, I looked at the resident, nicely declined her breaking my water and said we would take a walk around the halls. She obliged and said she'd be back to check me in two hours.

Between contractions was a breeze. During them I wasn't so much a fan of knowing other people would see me leaning against the wall and Ben rubbing my back, but I could have cared less. Sitting on a birthing ball hadn't been helping, I really could have cared less about sitting by that point anyway, and I was in no mood to let the resident mess with my birthing plan, since there was no reason to at that point in time. I was still determined I could make it to the end.

While we were walking, my nurse came to find us because my monitors needed to be adjusted. (Yay for wireless monitoring; boo that they are required at the hospital.) By the time we made it back to the room, I was starting to feel really sleepy. I just wanted to rest as much as I could. I kept telling Ben and my nurse I just wish I could sleep. I really just wanted to get a little bit of sleep. I also had the urge to go to the bathroom, though I knew this was my normal "need to go" and not a "time to push baby out" urge. And after giving my bottom half less pressure to deal with (I knew I wasn't mistaken and about to push my baby out on the toilet!), I really wanted to find a way to sleep.

Though the bed wasn't all that appealing to me, I decided to try sitting propped up with my feet propped on pillows to get some rest between contractions. (As fancy as those hospital beds are, the foot didn't raise up to elevate my feet at all.) No other positions sounded appealing to test out, I wasn't comfortable even in the "most comfortable" (oxymoron, yes?) position of a leaning stand, so I could have cared less what it felt like to sit propped up with pillows, and though I had the option of a huge tub filled with water, I had no desire to be submerged at all. I figured at least I could try to sleep between contractions rest my legs and arms, which had been supporting me while contracting, allow my contractions to use all I had in me, and hope that maybe I'd get a little bit of rest between them, though they were staying less than 2-3 minutes apart by this point.

It wasn't long before I became horribly uncomfortable. Breathing was really taking a lot for me to focus on and my desire for sleep became stronger with each contraction.

Somewhere in there, my nurse came into the room to check on us. I told her I was really starting to feel a lot of pressure, though I wasn't having an urge to push. It was shortly after that exchange labor became intense. So intense that I began telling Ben I wasn't sure how I was going to make it. It was then my nurse set herself up in her chair and I had both her and Ben reminding me to focus on breathing (the hospital I gave birth at has a 1:1 ratio for patients to nurses. YES!). Ben kept telling me how proud of me he was and how great I was doing.

As each contraction ended I would fall asleep...I'm honestly not sure what to call it but I know I kept my eyes shut through the rest of labor; at least, it was a rare occurance for me to open my eyes. And I know when I wasn't having a contraction, I was hoping sleep would come to me. But I also know I wasn't actually able to sleep because, as foggy as my memory was by this point, I verbally mentioned it a couple of times and mentally was constantly wishing it: I really wanted to sleep.

Somewhere in there I began to start feeling slightly pushy. I told my nurse who told me to let her know if I kept feeling that way. If I did we would need to call the resident back to the room. After a few more contractions feeling like there was ridiculous pressure, I was ready to be checked. Despite the fact it had only been about an hour since I was last checked and most of it had been spent with me telling Ben I wasn't going to make it while he and my nurse encouraged me to stick with it, I was ready to be checked. It was also encouraging when my nurse, at one point, told Ben I looked like someone who was in the middle of transition: I was hopeful I had dilated at least a few centimeters; she said I looked like I was an 8 or 9.

The resident came in, made me lie on my back (man I wanted to cuss her out!), and checked me. It was at that point I had no filter and yelled at her (well, it felt like I yelled at her, but Ben says no one outside of our room would have heard me) "YOU'RE ROUGH!" (I still die laughing every time I think about this. Me in my "normal" state would have probably kept my mouth shut. Me in labor - I say whatever I'm thinking. Yikes! And honestly, she was...well, let's just say I'd never want her as my OB.) And it was after that my heart sunk: I was feeling an urge to push, and I was only a 6.

Do what?!

I was sure, after hearing that, I wasn't going to make it. I was so upset I tearlessly cried (I wanted to all-out cry but as I was already so focused on my labor I don't think tears would have come had I tried to force them out) to Ben about how I wasn't sure I was going to make it. I also decided sitting wasn't doing any good, I needed and wanted to get off my back, so I rolled over onto my side. As I was pouting, the resident started rattling off all the options I had for relief. I'm not really sure what she said, aside from mentioning breaking my water again. So I moaned about how I wasn't going to make it while I pulled the leg I wasn't laying on up to my chest and was mentally wishing the resident disappear. I did hear my nurse encourage me to lay on my side.

"Just focus on breathing through this contraction. [I'd then say something to the affect of how I wasn't going to make it and there was so much pressure] That's your baby moving down. It won't be too much longer. Just focus on your breathing," my nurse would say.

Ben later told me she shut the resident up, who had begun promptly listing different pain management options as I rolled on my side, when the resident mentioned an epidural. Apparently when that was mentioned, my nurse looked her squarely in the face and told her I didn't want an epidural. I had had one with my first and wasn't looking to have one this time. (Thank you, Jesus, for an amazing nurse!!) He also told me he was really thankful the nurse was there to buffer and be a voice for us because had she not said anything, he was ready to not-so-nicely tell the resident she must not have read our birth plan, hand her a paper copy, and tell her to go read it. (And as much as I loved my nurse, I kind of wish I would have had a chance to see that scene play out...though maybe I wouldn't really remember it...)

After turning on my side, I felt something running down my leg. "Did my water break? I think my water broke? Is that my water?" Yeah...I was definitely in the throws of transition.

The resident, who was still standing there after her pain management discourse, moved to sit on the bed and told me to lie on my back.

"I don't want to lie on my back!" I emphatically told her.

She obliged to her laboring patient's wishes (FINALLY! THANK YOU, JESUS!), saw that I was bleeding, and with urgency told me she had to check me because she had to find out why I was bleeding.

"Great," I thought. "I'm going to have made it this far only to have something happen. Jesus, please let it not be so."

What felt like forever later I heard the resident say to the nurse, "It's because she's changing rapidly. She's a 7."

And then it started: an urge to push like no freakin' other. So much so I told the resident, not long after checking me, that I really wanted to push. I knew I was only a 7, but by golly, I wanted to push!

The resident started talking to me about all the problems that could cause, in a very condescending tone as Ben later told me she talked to me like I was 5 (which really ticked him off), and that I was not to push. Between me yelling at her (well...it felt like I was yelling, but Ben said I never really got all that loud. Ha!) that I wanted to push, I heard my nurse asking if she should page my OB while she was also encouraging me to breathe because those "contractions are moving your baby down; you're almost ready to see her."

"I want to push! Oh my gosh, I'm gonna push!"

The resident kept telling me not to push, while I watched her get all her scrub gear on (seeing her get ready seriously felt like an out of body experience: I barely had my eyes open so my vision was a little hazy.), the nurse kept encouraging me while also asking if she should page my OB, and Ben held my hand while encouraging me. Eventually it turned into:

"I'm not pushing but this baby is coming! I'm not trying to push!"

The resident was still telling me not to push for some of that, my nurse paged all the scrub techs, baby docs and nurses, and my OB, and Ben continued being an awesome supportive hubby. (Though I'd be lying if I told you I can remember a word he was saying.)

From there, I don't really know what happened. It felt like an eternity: the period of yelling I wanted to push and all the verbal interaction between the resident and nurse in my room. Somewhere in there my yells about wanting to push became mingled with lots of hustle and bustle in the room. It also was filled with trying to figure out if my OB was on his way.

(I was later informed that I went from a 6 to 10 in THREE minutes. THREE!?! I seriously wish there was actual pictures or video footage to prove it. It felt like I wanted to push for at least a solid hour...at least!)

While everyone was getting ready for me to start pushing, the resident was also trying to get me in the position she was most comfortable with: my blasted back. And why does she think an unmedicated, laboring woman is going to just allow herself to be rolled onto her back? I again told her "I DON'T WANT TO BE ON MY BACK!", which happened to coincide with my OB running into my room. PRAISE THE LORD!

He immediately sat on my bed on the side I was facing, had me continue to hold my thigh, had Ben hold my ankle, and finally I was hearing the sweetest words to my laboring ears, "OK. Push when you're ready."

And the angels sang the hallelujah chorus for me while I finally was able to give in to the biggest urge to push anything out my bottom side I've ever felt in my life.

And it. felt. good. relieving.

I honestly don't remember any pain during pushing, aside from some slight burning - the wonderful, talked-about ring of fire - during crowning, which for me the burn really wasn't all that bad...I would not equate it to feeling like my crotch was on fire (<- told you I'd overshare). Pushing really felt wonderful, as in the biggest relief of my life, and knowing that my sweet baby was coming, as scary as the "what ifs" were, made it all that much more sweet. At some point, the resident finally got to do what she'd been pressuring me to do for hours: they broke my water. (I wonder if Aubrey would have been born with the bag of water still in tact had they not broken it.)

"It's clear!" many of the staff announced.

That information gave me such relief to know there were no signs of any problems as far as my amniotic fluid was telling. Only a short time after they broke my water was when I felt the ring of fire. Not long after I verbalized that "it burned" was I told they could see her head. Something in me wanted to know she really was almost here: I reached down to feel for myself. I was immediately shocked: my baby had hair! And she was almost here! The small act of reaching to feel her head gave me all the motivation I needed to finish pushing her out.

With two more giving-it-all-I-have pushes, Aubrey Kate was born into my hands at 15:06. All 7 pounds 6 ounces and 19 3/4 inches of her. I immediately and greedily pulled her up onto my welcoming chest.

And I cried.

Oh how I cried.


She was perfect.

Absolutely, 100% perfect.

I could have cared less we were both covered in my blood. I kissed her. I looked at her tiny, wrinkled hands with femininely long, piano fingers. I cradled her tiny body as close to mine as possible while realizing her tightly curled body was almost completely held within my hands alone. I rubbed her back to stimulate her crying, continue to clear her lungs. Everyone around me, except for me, seemed worried about her not crying.

She was content in her mother's arms. 

Just minutes after birth (My hair was clean that morning...promise! Labor made me sweat like I'd run a marathon.)

First pic of Aubrey with Mommy and Daddy

She remained calm as she lay across me, skin to skin. She scooted herself so she could nestle into my neck. She finally let out a tiny, but healthy, cry announcing her dislike for leaving the warmth and comfort she had known for nine months before this moment. Enough to satisfy all the nurses and doctors in the room who kept telling me to rub her back to stimulate her; though I'm not sure why they were so worried, as I found out her Apgar scores were an 8 & 9 which are taken at 1 minute and 5 minutes. (The highest an Apgar can be is 10.)

We lay there, no longer one entity. But I knew she needed me. For everything.

And I was made aware of just how much I needed her. How God knew I needed her. (Quite the same as He knew I needed Zoë in my life, yet so different in that the reasons I need each of my two tiny blessings - though by no means is the blessing itself tiny - in my life is so vastly different. But each as sanctifying as the other.) It doesn't make the loss, the gap caused by a child born into my Savior's arms, any smaller or less difficult, but it finds a way to heal the beautiful scar left by such a trial.

After they started Pitocin (Aubrey wasn't interested in nursing at first - they waited at least a good 20 minutes, too, before they started it - and I was bleeding pretty heavily), stitched me up, weighed her, and gave us all our victory bands (aka this baby belongs to these people) and her security tag (Not kidding. Every baby is given one so they can't leave the floor. And hers kept setting the alarm off which sends nurses into the room to make sure you're not tampering with it all the while everyone else on your floor hears some guy telling you to step away from the door because they don't want someone to steal the baby.), she was handed back to me.

Took this pic of her foot, but that's the security tag. 

I found Ben's eyes.

"Our rainbow baby is here. She's actually here," I whispered.

"I know," he lovingly replied, then bent to kiss me on my forehead.

Then I let more tears come.

The best we could get of the 4 of us

And though I felt the sting of the loss, a sting that may dull over time but never be forgotten, I felt my heart stretch to open itself, making room to love my precious Aubrey Kate.

My sweet, new bundle ready to go home


1 Year [A Bittersweet]

*Today marks the one year birthday of our sweet angel baby. And while we don't know our baby's gender and we never were able to name him or her, I still think about them on a pretty consistent basis. So I wrote a letter to them. Because it seemed right.*

My Sweet Baby,

One year ago today you were born into your Jesus' arms. Even though the memory of it all is painful and there are times I wish I could forget, I am certain I will never forget.

Because you see, while I would never wish to lose you, your death gave life to your sweet sister, Aubrey. And I simply cannot imagine life without her.

Yet I find I miss you. I miss you when I'm corraling your siblings to leave the house. I miss you when I fold the tiny clothes made dirty by imaginary play and spit up. I miss you when I fix meals and am serving out the child-size portions. I miss you when I pass the hospital I sat within waiting and hoping for words of hope all the while knowing I would only wish the earth would open up and swallow me there on the spot. (Just for the record, I wouldn't mind if I never have to set foot in their halls again.) I miss you when I hear your older sister laughing and I know yours should already be mingled with it. I miss you when I think of the milestones we would be celebrating with you.

And oh how I want to hold you! To feel your warmth against me. To pick you up when you fall after taking your first steps.

While I want all of this, while I miss you, part of me feels like missing you is wanting to have my cake and eat it, too.

And so even though it hurts to know I will never know you this side of heaven, I also have a peace about it all knowing without your death Aubrey would not be here.

Enjoy being in His presence, Little One!

I love you!!



I apparently have a theme going on in my life. I wrote a post about how I feel stuck on Monday.

Though the reasoning behind that post is different from what I'm feeling right now, I feel trapped. Trapped with thoughts in my head to which I am unable to put words or even completely give life to them so they are more than a blur.

And it's almost leaving me gasping for air.

Maybe one day soon I will be able to sort it out and give life to whatever is going on up there in my mind. Until then, I will be working to figure it out so I can feel free.

*Side note: For those of you who have been wondering when it will post, Aubrey's birth story is slated to be on the blog this Friday!*


Today May Be the Death of Me

Those were words I typed into my facebook status just last week. Words which didn't really hit me any particular way as they flew out from under my fingers.

It really was a rough day. I honestly thought if I wasn't careful that day could see me dead at the end of it. (Gee those last words aren't pretty to admit, but there really are days like that around here. Those days, thankfully, generally remind me of my great need for a Savior.) And while I wish I could say I typed those words out hoping they would offer some consolation to other moms who have had or were experiencing a similar day, I was truly selfishly thinking of myself, complaining to everyone of my current misery while simultaneously reaching out for any life saving device that could be thrown my way so as I didn't end up anywhere near headline news.

And though I'm not sure why I did it, at the end of that wearing day, I went back to reread what I wrote. The minute I read it, I was convicted:

I had quickly typed those words out selfishly, when in actuality, my faith necessitates this of me. Daily.

"Then Jesus said to His disciples, 'If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.'"
Matthew 16:24, 25 (also see Mark 8:34, 35, and Luke 9:23, 24; they're practically identical)

While the original intent of my words is not what Christ is speaking of, every day should be a metaphorical death of me: a death of me and living for Him and His glory. A death of all the ugly character qualities I possess which rub people the wrong way, even myself at times. A death of using all the "pretty" character qualities I have for my own personal gain. A death of doing what I want for my own personal enjoyment or pleasure.

But I don't wake up reminding myself of what He has called me to.

I don't take time to start my day asking God to help me to die to myself again. continually.

Yet, why am I not? What is holding me back from living sold out to my God who gave everything for me so I might have an eternity with Him?

I'm not saying every Christian you come in contact with will verbally be radical in their faith. I personally believe some have the gift of evangelism while others are not going to show Christ in this manner. But what I am saying, and what I'm confessing I many times become apathetic in, is every Christian you encounter will and should be known by how they love. How they live. The day in and day out choices made.

And so while my original meaning of that statement was of a literal, physical death surrounded by pure selfishness, I hope to change the saying a bit and find it has become something with a whole new meaning.

How would I change it?

Today is the death of me.



At least, that is how I feel at the time being. Not that it's a bad thing; honestly, I'm such a home body, not leaving my home doesn't bother me a great deal.

Except when I feel like I'm trapped.

And right now, I'm trapped. Trapped by my lack of knowledge of how to successfully get 3 human beings out of the house before lunch or nap or, in the matter of a newborn, time to nurse. Not that I don't nurse with a cover in public. If you ran into me when our little family of four went grocery shopping this past week, you would have found me roaming Sam's and Walmart with a nursing cover on.

My problem is even if I wake before the girls, I somehow don't get enough of my own stuff done so that once Zoë has finished breakfast, and Aubrey nursing, we can skidaddle out the door.

So if you need me, I'm most likely occupying some space in my home. And unless I'm calling for help, don't worry about me. Just pray that I'm not forgetting some important aspect of caring for my home...like making sure we have food for the week. :)


Meaning Behind the Name

Today I wanted to share the meaning behind Aubrey's name. Though I'm slightly hesitant because the book Ben and I choose names from lists two different origins with two different meanings for her first name. And though Ben likes names to have character behind the meaning, the second meaning listed doesn't bother him. But it bothers me. Because I am not so fond of naming my daughter Aubrey when it means "elf ruler". And if you search online, the only origin you can find is French which is the one meaning elf ruler.

Anyone with me on not jumping to give your daughter a name meaning elf ruler?

Well, I guess what matters is I know the meaning we named her for.

So let's have out with it.


Aubrey, when traced back to Germanic origin, means "noble". Noble, by definition, means "having or showing fine personal qualities or high moral principles and ideals."

Kate is Greek in origin. It means "pure, blessed". Pure means "not mixed or adulterated with any other substance or material. Blessed has two different meanings: as an adjective it means "made holy; consecrated." As a noun it means "those who live with God in heaven."

Our hearts desire for Aubrey is that she will grow into a young woman with high moral principles and ideals. Hopefully, based on a heart for Christ. With that heart for Christ, we hope she will remain pure in her commitment for Him, living a life set apart for His glory.

So while she is but a wee babe now, I find myself silently asking God to draw her heart to Him. It would be my ultimate joy as her mother.

And completely beside the point, for those of you who enjoy reading birth stories as much as I do, be looking out for Aubrey's birth story. Can't give a promised date, but it's in the workings and I will be posting it within the next week.


To My Sweet Bug

Blowing out the candle in your birthday, breakfast waffle

Zoë, Zoë, Zoë...

Where to begin? (I write that as though I know this letter will be long, but I honestly can't tell you it's length. No matter, it is straight from your momma's heart.) I guess I should start by saying:

I still cannot believe you are two. 2 years old!

It feels like yesterday I was hearing the words, "It's a girl!" as the doctor held you up for my eyes to behold you in all of your fresh from the womb glory. So, so beautiful! (Though the way I just said that sounds a little weird, right? I'm sorry...can we blame the fact I haven't had a solid nights sleep, let alone a solid 3 hours of sleep, in the past 5 weeks? Actually...it probably would have come out like that anyway. Oh well :])

I'll be honest: becoming a mommy frightened me a bit. And sometimes I'm still afraid I will have made more wrong choices in raising you than right. But I'm so glad I've been given the opportunity; you are such a delight to me and to our entire home!

Zoë you light up whatever room you are in. And you definitely make sure people know you are here. You're still a little reserved when first coming in to a large group of people, but it isn't long after you are being silly, asking for everyone's eyes to be on you, desiring to be delighted in. You have no qualms with asking for you want and being persistent in the process. While the etiquette of our culture almost demands I teach you to tone down both of those characteristics, I'm so very hesitant to knowing they can be great assests to you when you are older. I so hope your tenacity for getting what you want is not lost but honed so you can properly use it when you need it.

You also LOVE to engage people in laughter. If there is a way to get people laughing, you are going to find it. You search it out and when you find it, your squeals of laughter reverberate off of every wall it can. I could listen to you laugh for hours. It is so pure. So contagious. So innocent.

And as I stare at the picture I posted above, I can't help but be reminded of how often your daddy and I talk about how beautiful you are. My biggest hope is you will come to understand your beauty comes from within and is displayed outwardly. This doesn't mean you can't enjoy dressing up and feeling pretty on the outside, but that there is no need to work with or change your outward appearance to be beautiful. I'm thinking I may be getting a little serious as you are still so young, but I daily watch you enjoy feeling pretty. Currently your "princess shoes", as you have dubbed them all because of a disney princess decal inside the shoe, are your favorite.

You love showing them to whoever will look and often tell them "pretty" while pointing your toe to emphasize the fact you think they are pretty. You sometimes follow this scenario up with an index finger pointing at your chest and saying, "Zoë pretty." This is likely why I think so deeply on this issue even though you are just a little tot.

Ah! I love you so much, Zoë. And am ever so glad to call you my daughter. 

Happy Birthday, Sweet Pea!



It's back...

...and I'm not so sure how I feel about it.

While I'm not complaining it's back, because it definitely is one of those "blessing in disguise" situations, I am praying against it helping in the undoing of my nerves. Which are worn thin from lack of sleep.

I'm aware those last two sentences seem like I'm complaining. I really am not. They are sheer fact in this household running on few hours of sleep. That is all. I promise.

And now I'm realizing I've left you in the dark.

What exactly is back? you ask.

Well, I did a small search of my blog and while I'm not sure I shared this craziness when Zoë was just a wee babe (my lordy I am no fan of how quickly she is growing! By no means is she passed the stage where I can call her a tot, but she really isn't much of a baby at all anymore. In fact, she adamently tells me she isn't one if I ask her "Are you my baby?"), I can asure you: we lived through it with Zoë and I'm reliving it with Aubrey:

phantom crying

And while I am ever grateful the true crying seems to be very minimal right now, starting because I think I hear Aubrey crying...man, that just undoes me. I'm not sure why.

Maybe because the phantom baby cries like something horrible is happening to it.

Maybe it's because the worry every mom has (yes, I'm about to vastly generalize but I'm pretty sure every mom has the worry I'm about to mention.) of whether her baby is really sleeping in their bed or something has gone horribly wrong is playing tricks on my mind.

Maybe it's because I'd almost rather it be real crying I could do something about rather than these purely mentally subconcious cries I have no control over at all, except for to remind my mind they aren't real, they're in my head. (ummm...do I sound crazy? Please don't send me to the psych ward. I'm just running on low sleep.)

But whatever it is, my nerves almost start pumping adrenaline and have me feeling like I could run a marathon in 7 minutes. And while I know I can't run that fast, period, I definitely wish I could get the extra energy it gives me on a constant pump. Without the low it also produces after the effect.

So is anyone with me? Please tell me I'm not the only mom or caretaker of an infant who has experienced this phenomenon. Because if I am, well...then maybe I do need to be seen by my doctor so I can avoid the mental ward.

Because I'm hearing it...again.


1 Month [Aubrey]

Time always seems a funny thing when you have a newborn. Even funnier when you have an almost 2 year old and a newborn. The days seem infintessimally longer while weeks seem to slip straight through your fingers. There are even those rare days which seem to fly by, which throws a complete curve ball into grasping time, when you get to soak in all the glory and blessing of having a quiver full of children. And I'm just today experiencing the full fledged reality of raising two kids on my own for 8+ hours of the day. (Please, pray for me!!)

That being said, I'm several days late in getting this written and posted, but when it comes to my kids always better late than never I try to write the post at some point so I have it as a keepsake. And just to keep it real: while I'd love to say the posts are late because I'm engaged 100% as a mom and giving them what they need from me, sometimes I'm still wasting my time on social media or half-way giving them my attention even when my writing has fallen to the way side.


I cannot believe Aubrey is already a month old! As of last Wednesday! Gah.

I'd really be ok if time would stand still. If even for a moment. Mentally I feel it may help with the emotional roller coaster the month of March will always be for me, but especially this year. I will always have Zoë's and my Angel baby's birthdays, but this year...yes, this year...I am still dealing with postpartum hormones, celebrating Aubrey's 1 month milestone, Zoë's 2 year, and my little Angel's 1 year.

This is such a joyous and sorrowful time.

But this post is a joyous one. A post to begin the monthly milestones Aubrey makes. A post celebrating the wonderful blessing of another child. Life is a gift.

To that end I wanted to post some extremely rookie pics taken with a point n shoot with a manual mode that no longer functions properly. And auto mode...well, it's just not as great for taking pics of an infant. But I'd rather have pictures than none to capture this time at all.

First off, let me show you just how good I am at making my babies cry when I attempt any semblance of a mini photo shoot. This particular picture was captured after several different positions in different places. Every. last. one happened to make Aubrey cry. Way to go, Mom!

This one isn't a great pic, but the face. Oh, the face! I crack up every time I see this picture. She purses her lips like that a lot too. Already bringing additional laughter into our home.

Finally was able to get her to settle down by swaddling her. Then big sister decided she wanted in on the "cheese" action. Here she is pointing to Aubrey's head band. Though they obviously can't truly interact with one another yet, moments like these melt my heart and give life to the hope of them becoming best buds.

I'm biased, but man she's cute! And it still blows my mind she has so much dark hair. I seriously thought I would always have bald babies.

Nothing like a sweet, sleeping baby.

I consider this her first "see how I'm growing" picture. There was no way I was going to get one with her unswaddled; plus, she still hasn't lost all the newborn womb syndrome (curled up in a ball like she still has no room to stretch).

1 Month Stats
  • At 2 weeks you weighed 8 pounds 5 ounces. This means you had gained almost an entire pound in about 7 days. As your doctor told me, "[You're] killing it on weight!" Mommy has "ghetto weighed" you since then. If our scale is correct, you now weigh around 11 pounds. I'll be very curious to get an official weight on you at your 2 month check-up. You're healthy so we weren't required to go in for a one month.
  • You measured 21 inches at 2 weeks old which is up 1 1/4 inches from birth. You currently are almost out of newborn size onesies. It does depend on the brand, but a majority of them do not fit.
  • You're very patient with me as I try to figure out the correct size on the cloth diapers we are borrowing. I'm curious to see if this will transform into a more laid back personality.
  • You are becoming more alert by the day. Your most attentive times are when we first wake up in the morning and after your midafternoon eating session.
  • You continue to nurse like a champ. I'm so grateful nursing has been a relative breeze with you. We've had our hiccups, but the older you get, the fewer problems we have. You've even had several days where you will nurse for 10 minutes each side and last three hours between nursing sessions.
  • You aren't a big fan of tummy time. Rarely you'll last a good ten to fifteen minutes, but most of the time I feel like as soon as I've set you down you begin fussing about it.
  • You enjoy snuggling. Oh, do you snuggle! Your favorite spot is to be on my shoulder but able to nestle your head into my neck.


Words cannot describe how much my joy has increased by having you in my arms. I am still amazed I was pregnant with you so quickly after we lost your sibling. And now to have you, flesh and blood, in my arms. What a sweet, sweet gift you are!

As you continue to grow and show signs of thriving I become ever more curious of who you will develop to be. How will you touch the lives around you? What will the daily interactions with your sister look like? What will you like? What will you dislike? (We're already very aware of the fact you do not have an inclination for music the way your sister did. We have yet to find any song to soothe you. In fact, some of them seem to make you more riled up or angry.)

It is my joy and honor to be your mommy. To get to know you as only a mother is able.

I love you very much, sweet girl!