tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43336706459752007622024-03-19T15:50:53.430-07:00This Captivating Love"Intense love does not measure... it just gives."
-- Blessed Mother TeresaHilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-4340613701897735242015-11-18T08:07:00.001-08:002015-12-02T08:38:10.554-08:00Terror everywhereLast week, the world watched as Paris, France fell under attack. Guns fired, bombs went off. 100+ innocent people died at the hands of evil individuals and now the rest of the world quakes in fear. <div><br></div><div>Since that day last week we have continued to see acts of terror occur throughout the world though most cameras in the mainstream media are on Europe. This is our world right now and for my generation, a selfish generation, it is something we have never fully seen or understood. Sure, we survived 9/11. But most of us were so young that day and since then, the terror has felt very far away.</div><div><br></div><div>But it's moving west.</div><div><br></div><div>Yes, it's horrible. My heartbreaks for the people of France. But not far away there are thousands and thousands of people that live in fear every day. They are young and old and innocent and all they want is a safe place to live without fear to raise their children and give them a life that simply isn't possible in the Middle East that is constantly a threatening land.</div><div><br></div><div>How can we, the fortunate, turn our backs? How can we deny the the basic rights that our ancestors sought when they came to the United States? How can we look at our own children sleeping peacefully in warm beds and be ok with refusing to care for those that are cold and starving and afraid?</div><div><br></div><div>I understand the fear that terrorists will come here. I understand that possibility. But this event in Paris doesn't change anything. The threat has not risen from what I can tell. And really, if we are being honest, terrorists are going to make it here if they want. They probably already have. Paris does not change or increase the danger that has been here all along. </div><div><br></div><div>I just can't help wondering what Christ thinks of all of this. It's not hard to imagine he is saddened not only by the terror but also by the lack of love and concern for each other. Where are all the Sammaritans?</div><div><br></div><div>Remember the Flight to Egypt. Remember that Mary, with Jesus the Christ in her womb, and her husband Joseph... They were refugees, too. </div><div><br></div><div>Let us remember this as we prepare for our hearts this Advent. </div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-79930645102579673172015-11-14T10:41:00.001-08:002015-11-14T10:41:42.108-08:002 years but the heart still hurtsTwo years ago this morning I delivered my sweet little girl, Anna Marie, into the arms of her Heavenly Father. It is still by far the most difficult day of my life. I have talked about it all so many times on here so I won't lay out the details. <div><br></div><div>Two years... In so many ways is feels like yesterday. The deep open wounds of my heart are still gaping and painful and impossible to ignore. I feel the weight of her absence every day. I thought by now things would not feel so sad. In the sadness, however, I have found God. </div><div><br></div><div>When you lose a child there is an isolation that occurs. You carry on throughout the day and surround yourself with people but you are still alone. You smile but below the surface there is pain that no one quite understands. When no one understands you on Earth you cling to the One that knows your heart. God has pulled me through these dark days but there is a long distance ahead. </div><div><br></div><div>I want to be done suffering but God has called me to suffer with Him. He has called me to lean on him and not one my own understanding. I believe He has a plan and that it right and good and perfect. Despite my quiet suffering, I will follow where He leads. I imagine Mary felt similarly after Jesus died. I have spent so much time reflecting on that. </div><div><br></div><div> I long for heaven but he has not called me there yet. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">One day the suffering and sadness will be over. One day we will all be called Home to the Father's arms. We will know the fullness of truth and love and peace that this world cannot know without us all running to Him.</span></div><div><br></div><div>Sweet Anna, I will be with you one day. We all will. I know you are in a place of true happiness so you do not miss me. You are with Love Himself. That brings joy to my heart. One day we will all know that kind of perfect love. I love and miss you every day my beautiful daughter!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDfVf4OqTFUMi9Scjun7SY0Du-20NSM-LQ4j4g6-1kzxTiXAgGucuYJn64uwqE6EpmvfVvjnOmCp-q8CO1fYtirYD-rueJ48F9mGaY9-O6yVM7PPUADZpkYWe235JJmKdJtuOH_R7Lkjo/s640/blogger-image--234141171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDfVf4OqTFUMi9Scjun7SY0Du-20NSM-LQ4j4g6-1kzxTiXAgGucuYJn64uwqE6EpmvfVvjnOmCp-q8CO1fYtirYD-rueJ48F9mGaY9-O6yVM7PPUADZpkYWe235JJmKdJtuOH_R7Lkjo/s640/blogger-image--234141171.jpg"></a></div></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-85464069683542470602015-10-22T12:20:00.002-07:002015-10-22T12:20:21.656-07:00Catch us the foxes<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have never been into podcasts. I just can't. I can listen to music all day long but have never <strike>looked for</strike> found a podcast that holds my interest. Not my thing.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Holy... Yes! Listen to Catching Foxes Podcast! </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am hooked. I'm listening right now actually. I listen in the car, at work... Lots of times when I shouldn't... Because I can't get enough. It is my friend/former youth minister, and his friend/my acquaintance. It is about the culture we live in and how that affects our Catholic faith.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love it. LOVE IT.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They sit there and geek out over things that I'm not even nerdy enough to truly understand... BUT more than anything they talk/discuss our cults from their perspective. It is not a lecture. They aren't talking AT me. Just discussing. It is so insightful.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is what I am looking for in my life. I am so tired about talking about things that are surface level, just skin deep. People my age don't talk about this stuff. I need more Catholic friends/like-minded friends. Don't feel bad for me... I'm fine. But I want this.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I digress....</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gomer and Luke (the two guys on the podcast) talk about all the things. They have touched on pornography, atheism, death and despair, living a life of uncertainty, chastity, music, video games (nerds), superheros (nerds... really), etc. I feel like I have written about this before but what is this world that we live in that we don't talk about the things we cannot see? We talk about the Kardashians and sports like that is our salvation and wonder aimlessly through life day after day and reject (even if unintentionally) the One who breathed life into us.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This has been bothering me recently. Do you ever wonder "Where is God?" I know people say that in tragedy but I mean in your daily life. Do you know God is present? Do you see Him in the poeple you talk to at work and in line at the grocery store? Do you feel him in your home with your family?</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This world is difficult because mankind is constantly pushing the Creator, the Truth, away. When you are surround by those who reject the Cross, it is easy to see only darkness. There is sadness and betrayal and guilt and devastation. But let us not forget... </span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Christ suffers with us.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This seems to be a recurring theme and quite frankly somethng I need to hear. We all have a cross that we carry but we do not walk the long road alone. When the Father and the Son are intangible and difficult to understand, the Holy Spirit, the most mysterious person of the Trinity, descends and sheds light into the hearts of the lonely doubter. The icy walls are melted away and our eyes can be opened to see the crucifiction and resurrection and we can know that in Christ we can rise again with Him.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Catch us the foxes, the little foxes that damage the vineyards; for our vineyards are in bloom." Song of songs 2:15</span></div>
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Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-63411203568092576402015-09-26T09:56:00.003-07:002015-09-26T09:56:57.292-07:00Looking aheadI go through waves of being successful in writing a blog and then I go through phases of completely sucking at it. I have been in one of those phases recently.<br />
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Life is happening so rapidly. I feel like I blinked and my baby turned one. I thought I had all summer to prepare for his birthday party but summer flew by in what felt like a week. I threw things together with the help of a very supportive husband and mother. Thank you both! I love you and appreciate you!<br />
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We are now days away from my birthday. It has creeped up on me and the only reason I know my birthday is coming is because I looked at the date, realized tomorrow is my best friend, Kelsey's, birthday which is exaclty one week from my birthday...<br />
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What are my birthday plans you ask? No idea. In fact, I think I will keep the fact that my birthday is coming on the down low because if people start asking me about plans I won't have an answer. I'm ok with it but it's not what people expect.<br />
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So here we are. Days from October (best month of the year). With so much to look forward to. I see Fall Festivals, Pumpkins, Halloween, falling leaves, Thanksgiving, snow, and Christmas in the very near future. I am thrilled at the chance to experience all of this in a whole new way with my sweet husband and adventurous growing boy! <br />
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Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-71099599966281202452015-09-24T19:34:00.001-07:002015-09-24T19:34:50.996-07:00SkinI look in the mirror everyday. Usually multiple times a day. I often scrutinize over the rapidly appearing wrinkles and wonder how I simultaneously end up dealing with breakouts... Which seem like those of a teenager. Not fair.<div><br></div><div>I have scars and freckles and laugh lines and crows feet. None of which are desirable physical attributes to have when you are in your twenties. I look at myself and wish I was different. That I didn't have these permanent reminders of passing time and troubled days.</div><div><br></div><div>And then I look at my son.</div><div><br></div><div>My son's skin is pale and perfect. It is pure and innocent and unmarked from the affects of the sun or the earth. He is unblemished. </div><div><br></div><div>Recently I have noticed his knees have become rough from crawling and from falling in his failed attempts to walk. His innocent and inexperienced young skin is starting to lose its purity. He will soon have rough patches, scars from his many falls, and freckles from the sun (he is his mother's son after all). </div><div><br></div><div>God is funny like that. </div><div><br></div><div>Our skin is truly only skin deep, just the exterior. Our body are beautiful and in a way perfect at every stage of life but they are the shell of what matters. Our souls. Our bodies, our skin, reflects the soul. </div><div><br></div><div>Every scar I bare, every wrinkle... It is part of me.</div><div><br></div><div>One day my perfect little boy will have wrinkles and scar like mine because he lived life well. It is part of growing up. It saddens part of me but stirs up joy in another. </div><div><br></div><div>God's design is incredible to me.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-20698954362208260672015-07-08T13:15:00.001-07:002015-07-08T13:15:01.969-07:00Father's DayTFather's Day is here and my heart is exploding with love for the man that I call husband and the father of our children. This is the first official Father's Day.<div><br></div><div>I always imagined him as a dad and I knew early on that he would be a good one but nothing could have ever prepared me for the melting of my heart that takes place when I watch Patrick playing with Luke. He plays with him and the laughter between Patrick and Luke consumes me. There is really nothing quite like it. </div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-32371338319014852702015-06-17T07:35:00.001-07:002015-06-17T07:35:27.869-07:00Time Hop NostalgiaMost people have heard of the popular phone app "Time Hop" and I jumped on the bandwagon not too long ago after months of time hop posts bombarding my facebook newsfeed. I caved in a moment of weakness. Whatever...<br />
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Anyways, I love it! It is so funny to look back! 7 Years ago Patrick and I went on our first date and sort of started talking. It is so funny to see the things we said to each other and how we picked on each other <strike>because I am awkward and don't know how to flirt</strike>. The funniest thing is that I was so in denial about my feeling for him. I was constantly pushing those feelings away. I pushed <u>him</u> away. But he kept coming back. Thank God.<br />
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Those early days with Patrick were really something. There are no words to adequately describe that time in my life. I had never really been in love before and it consumed me. It was actually terrifying and I know now (hind-sight is really something else, isn't it) that that is the reason I was continuously pushing him away. But Love always wins.<br />
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Do you ever look back and think about how one little desicion changed everything for you? Or how life lined up just perfectly so that one event could take place? I often revel in that mystery when it comes to Patrick and I. So often that it is possible that I have already written about this before.... maybe. <br />
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How did a girl from Texas fall in love with a guy from Kansas? Sure we both went to the same college but we never had classes together. We had different friends (initially). I saw him on campus but did not know him. I am not even sure when I learned his name. He was just a guy I recognized.<br />
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What if I hadn't gone to Pittsburg State University? What if I had never left Texas? What if I had fallen away from my faith in college like so many students do and never gotten involved at the Newman Center where we ended up getting to know each other? What if I had not gone to the end of the year Banquet and Ball my freshman year (I wasn't planning on going to it but someone convinced me last minute) and spent the majority of the evening dancing with him? What if we had gone our separate ways after the Banquet and not stayed up until 5 AM talking and watching movies?<br />
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Things happen according to His plan and I truly believe that. Everything in my life feels like a domino affect. One thing has to happen so that another thing can happen... etc. It's crazy but a realization that brings me calm. Truth is: I have no control.<br />
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There are so many cliches that come to mind: When one door closes another door opens. There is some real truth to that one. It helps me to remember that no tragedy is ever all that tragic when you look at the big picture. It is just a piece of the puzzle, a necessary domino in the line that leads me to the next big thing. This understanding takes away so much anxiety from my life.<br />
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So Time Hop isn't so bad after all, I suppose. I'm just going to sit here and sip on my fourth cup of coffee and flip through another chapter of my life story while my little boy naps. And I'll thank God for the good, the bad and the ugly that have brought me to this peaceful place in my life.<br />
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God is Good all the time.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This could have been a great first picture together but I had to be eating a piece of chocolate cake... with my hands... because I'm classy like that.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girl that said the Banquet and Ball would be "bitchin" and I should totally come. Thanks, Katie.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other best friends that were made that night... Thank you, God.</td></tr>
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<br />Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-57204482967385835252015-05-26T07:05:00.001-07:002015-06-10T11:54:16.555-07:00Waking upA few weekends ago, I witnessed a beautiful thing. I saw a man answering the call. I saw with my own eyes the relentless love God has for His people as one of my best friends layed himself before the altar and called on all the Saints.<div><br></div><div>He became a Roman Catholic Priest.</div><div><br></div><div>The Cathedral was beautiful, of course. It was a full house. But it was filled with more than people. There was a point in the ordination, I actually can't quite pinpoint when it was, but suddenly the room took on a new sort of fullness. It was above us and between us as we sat in the pews. Heaven came down. It was tangible.</div><div><br></div><div>Now I know the day had little to do with me. The focus was on the men on the altar. But my heart erupted and something woke up inside of me. I honestly don't know how to describe it and it took me some time to really understand, to put my feelings into words.</div><div><br></div><div>God feels more present to me in my life than He has for a long time. I didn't even know I had gotten so far away. But I did. And now I'm here.... And I don't know what is next. Is there a plan? I don't know what I'm supposed to do.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm making it my mission to focus my marriage, my family, my child, my job as a nurse and my job as a mother... To focus on Him in all of this. It's hard. I'm so far from perfect but I just feel this pull... It's indescribable.</div><div><br></div><div>Pray for me.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw5hL5lAf66muRfdKMczu0GhKVpxyoPtinMHLwkGelaVo4MMW7E-SmoQuvcfpPDIjGsYLuVfSkCR_f3LpM29chW38Soc5HUn8cJFAOOeiLSmsaEe9OwBJ7u8y76BBJj-1Fy9eK-gL8STk/s640/blogger-image-985939843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw5hL5lAf66muRfdKMczu0GhKVpxyoPtinMHLwkGelaVo4MMW7E-SmoQuvcfpPDIjGsYLuVfSkCR_f3LpM29chW38Soc5HUn8cJFAOOeiLSmsaEe9OwBJ7u8y76BBJj-1Fy9eK-gL8STk/s640/blogger-image-985939843.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyiJ2j7BgAUt7sU7IHcl6-E2r9Tfr364218q7BT54icQ_G8f4_FtpUXeJNWWxZO4M5-NOY-v2vRsemTjJvuwzWnYkCObvYAMGGocgkU42Lk9DORLICa46S6xXuBZUXS0A_BcnHB2tDT7E/s640/blogger-image-832322221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyiJ2j7BgAUt7sU7IHcl6-E2r9Tfr364218q7BT54icQ_G8f4_FtpUXeJNWWxZO4M5-NOY-v2vRsemTjJvuwzWnYkCObvYAMGGocgkU42Lk9DORLICa46S6xXuBZUXS0A_BcnHB2tDT7E/s640/blogger-image-832322221.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2FTxHBfDuUjqSiLyZEnNcM5C9XKGEAVHa1IFTIxLs_PgnRz-usWEzDXODX79B4iI6UxKjax3pCRawE-YHzinL0mg4yFJ1ghLNWpL0tD6FWaDVTi8uf7nq1ytNUTYJqH2ecTlN1dBObo/s640/blogger-image-1449629925.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2FTxHBfDuUjqSiLyZEnNcM5C9XKGEAVHa1IFTIxLs_PgnRz-usWEzDXODX79B4iI6UxKjax3pCRawE-YHzinL0mg4yFJ1ghLNWpL0tD6FWaDVTi8uf7nq1ytNUTYJqH2ecTlN1dBObo/s640/blogger-image-1449629925.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-60224575781529384842015-05-16T07:25:00.000-07:002015-05-16T07:25:12.103-07:00Those three words<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I got a guitar for Christmas a few years ago and I was determined to become this awesome guitarist. Both of my brothers play and are pretty good and I have always wanted to. I was pretty good at practicing and teaching myself for about the first 6 months to a year and then when I got pregnant enough that it was difficult to hold the guitar close enough to my body and I could no longer see what my fingers were doing my efforts diminished into essentially nothing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I picked up the guitar again today and retaught myself the few songs that I had learned previously and then did what I do best... I googled. I searched "easy song chords" and clicked on the very first link. I found a song I recognized and started teaching myself. It was Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol. I know this song like the back of my hand so it was easy to pick up the strumming and picking on the guitar. I listened to the words and something stood out to me in the lyrics.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"Those three words are said too much and not enough."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That one line really got me thinking about "those three words."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I love you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In January, Mike, a person that I love, passed away in a tragic helicopter crash. I flew with my 4 month old, Luke, to Texas for the funeral to be with my family and my extended family. Not aunts and uncles and cousins, but my church family. Anyways, the overall theme of my time there was to always remember to and never hesitate to tell the people you love that you love them. I suppose it isn't that uncommon to hear something like that at a funeral. It really hit home for me though.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Do I use those three words enough? Do I tell Patrick and Luke I love them <b>enough</b>? Do they actually know how deeply I love and care for them? Do they know that my heart aches and burns with an intensity just laying eyes on them? Did Anna know that? Does she know that now?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I do tell my family that I love them and a select other group of people. But I love so many people that I have probably never told. There are people that I see daily (friends, neighbors, co-workers) that I genuinely love and care about. Not with the same intensity that I love my immediately family, sure, but it is another kind of love is it not? I do love them but I have never told them. What if something happened to one of them and they never knew that I loved them?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It's almost like our culture doesn't even recognize this as love. If you tell these non-family members that you love them it is a frivolous use of "those three words." Like it takes away the meaning behind them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Are we not called to love each other? Is there even such a thing as using those three word <b>too much</b>?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Imagine a world where people didn't hold back or hesitate to tell each other that they loved one another. If everyone felt loved by someone and truly knew that deep down. It's sad that I can hardly fathom it but I imagine that everything... everyone... would be happier. There would be less war, less abuse, less suicide...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I can't change the world but I could try. I can start with my family and the people close to me. The people that read this blog (yes, all 3 of you! haha) could along with me start a contagion, a ripple effect.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Then... who knows what could happen.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>Love each other.</b></span><br />
<b><br /></b>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-50509209966929250632015-05-16T07:12:00.003-07:002015-05-16T07:12:58.699-07:00A (Week Late) Reflection on Mother's Day<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I was going to write this on Mother's Day but... ya know. Life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I had an interesting start to Motherhood so I don't consider this year to be my FIRST Mother's Day even though that is what everyone kept calling it. "Happy First Mother's Day." I just politely say thanks you. A year ago I was still grieving the loss of my daughter while simultaneously rejoicing in the anticipation of meeting my son. I felt like a mother but my heart ached to hold my child. I didn't even know which one I was longing for. I just felt the weight of my empty arms.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This year was different. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I always thought I was "ready" to have a child. Now that phrase makes me laugh. How can anyone really be ready? No matter how much experience you have with children, once that baby is born you are thrown into motherhood, ready or not! And it was harder than I ever really imagined (and based on what I hear from other women it sounds like I have a really "easy" baby).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In the last year I have grown so much. In the last couple months leading up to Luke's birth I experienced pain I had never felt before on a daily basis. I watched my body change drastically and I watched permanent marks develop on my abdomen. It was humbling. And totally worth it. Then September 17th arrived and though I had been in early labor for well over a week and experienced that discomfort, true labor was another beast entirely. I had the option to easy the pain with the potential risk of it affecting my child. That would not be worth it. I would endure any pain that came my way to protect the child I had never seen. And the physical damage, the aftermath, done to my body did not matter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The first moment I layed eyes on him is forever engraved in my mind. I wish that there was physical evidence, a photo or something, to show people that moment so they would understand. But nobody else is his mom so no photo could adequately display the warming of my heart in that moment. Love was spilling over the rim and invading every inch of me. One look at him and I was forever changed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In the last 7.5 (8 tomorrow actually!) months I have given everything. I have poured myself out day and night. I have done all the normal baby thing like changing diapers, giving baths, feeding... I always thought those things would feel like chores but they don't because they are done completely out of love. Does it often get overwhelming? You bet. I am human. I have cried, raised my voice... I have certainly had some ungraceful moments. There are even times that it has caused a tiff between Patrick and I. We are both human. But we have both given everything.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I am not writing this to toot my own horn. Not by any means! I just want to express to my mom and to other experienced moms.... I get it now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I get the sacrifices that you make on a daily basis. I understand giving of yourself to one tiny little human until you feel like there is nothing left by the end of the day. Even though I work, I do get a day off during the week. And I do get that being a stay at home mom would be a full time job in and of itself. I understand the frustration of a crying child and trying EVERYTHING to stop the tears because evry single one breaks your heart. I get what it means to be tired. I get that sometimes you have to run to Target with dried snot on your shoulder because if you change your clothes again #1 you will probably still end up with more bodily fluids on your shirt by the time you get there and #2 if you waste your time changing clothes you might miss your small window of time and then not make it to the store at all. Sacrifice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDiQ82YQZLLY9slB6dln2CqGJbRLEIOLMld0Z_TTjGGOewO4ME_O-ilpWnMFFq8-2KTr5K6VGE2bDCGYParCRxFyM0fzFPBrS7dgJ_c3aQsgi3JAgymbavVPaE3L6vrgmlpm4ZoLt-j78/s1600/IMG_1534_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDiQ82YQZLLY9slB6dln2CqGJbRLEIOLMld0Z_TTjGGOewO4ME_O-ilpWnMFFq8-2KTr5K6VGE2bDCGYParCRxFyM0fzFPBrS7dgJ_c3aQsgi3JAgymbavVPaE3L6vrgmlpm4ZoLt-j78/s320/IMG_1534_2.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Being a mom is my second job but it still comes <u>first</u>. It is the hardest, most difficult, most draining but most rewarding job there is. It is hands down the best thing I have ever done in my life and I would do it all again. All of it. For my daughter in Heaven and my son here with me on Earth. So mamas... thanks for letting me join your club. And God bless each and every one of you!</span>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-69125974530918162062014-11-14T06:39:00.001-08:002014-11-14T06:59:27.403-08:00One year agoA year ago on this day Patrick and I said hello and goodbye to our first child. Our daughter, Anna. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_zR-WTB_2o59_r9faUcZYb3tyhncsy42G8P1BzH_lzhKgF8QWpv7cKxNrU7bNLwOVkKJN08MMF6huCyhpnSPLbZk0x_V4JOU97a4UsWhn_zsrlmm9JeW9cJdKR_JZuaQ5KGQEHc2asQ/s640/blogger-image--1898419940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_zR-WTB_2o59_r9faUcZYb3tyhncsy42G8P1BzH_lzhKgF8QWpv7cKxNrU7bNLwOVkKJN08MMF6huCyhpnSPLbZk0x_V4JOU97a4UsWhn_zsrlmm9JeW9cJdKR_JZuaQ5KGQEHc2asQ/s640/blogger-image--1898419940.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div><div>I can't help but relive that day. In a lot of way it seems like an eternity ago but the memories are vivid. I remember the long night in the hospital waiting for the moment when the labor would end and I could hold my baby girl. I was both looking forward to it and dreading it because once she was no longer inside me... It would be real.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihPL63-OTEm1wghLi1ixATyQqqNVOosDYrY4jXG1TVgH1gfTdk_Cb7NR2sZNzfzOdUbwpfxB-_it-a66hLqLTnH-K73eTK3hMZ0gdqLyMQzr9Dft5-towW21M9trIDMw8XEwaX54hvKAo/s640/blogger-image--789465254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihPL63-OTEm1wghLi1ixATyQqqNVOosDYrY4jXG1TVgH1gfTdk_Cb7NR2sZNzfzOdUbwpfxB-_it-a66hLqLTnH-K73eTK3hMZ0gdqLyMQzr9Dft5-towW21M9trIDMw8XEwaX54hvKAo/s640/blogger-image--789465254.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>The day she was born I cried a lot. No one should ever have to say hello and goodbye all in the same moment. Turners syndrome and the physical abnormalities that caused her heart to fail in utero took her from this world and into the next. But even though she never took her first breath she changed our lives.</div><div><br></div><div>Anna, you made me see how beautiful and precious every little life is. You made me let go of myself and let God's will be done. Your short life impacted more people than my long life has yet to touch. Before you existed my love was only skimming the surface, but you and Luke have shown me how deeply that I can love my children and my husband.</div><div><br></div><div>A year ago today my life changed forever. I am a better person for having been your mom and I thank God everyday for the blessings He had given us through you. I miss you and love you every day of my life.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbypkVb2ov6CYzGgtuCNSHKafsVn8wumrpRgvjSpdLXThyphenhyphenFXJmOG0UDASsf7AvRNWnseGXL-klJGckB02hymcFlcaUhIweWdJWeli9mLtloIG0mPiiZa8s1hoCdobUg0Gou7t9fmFTOFs/s640/blogger-image-614722564.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbypkVb2ov6CYzGgtuCNSHKafsVn8wumrpRgvjSpdLXThyphenhyphenFXJmOG0UDASsf7AvRNWnseGXL-klJGckB02hymcFlcaUhIweWdJWeli9mLtloIG0mPiiZa8s1hoCdobUg0Gou7t9fmFTOFs/s640/blogger-image-614722564.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And this little guy, Luke, will grow up knowing his big sister is a little saint in heaven... He has the best guardian angel :)</div><br></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-50576820064650815752014-10-16T12:29:00.004-07:002014-10-16T12:29:49.983-07:00Love changes youI love my husband. I have loved him from day one. Even when we weren't dating and I intentionally ignored him for an entire summer, I loved him. My heart knew it before my head did. I have always loved him.<br />
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I remember one night before we were officially dating, I was driving home from his house after watching a movie with him and his roommates. It hit me that I loved him and I knew there was no turning back. He was it for me. I cried driving home that night, but they were the happiest tears. I saw where my life was going and I knew that he was going to be a part of it. Always.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGPas7UpZV1atiQR1HXyBvsF8cS-q-BoaGZRM6yO0tNZ2J6HFkv0YMfsJxrhO2gCG7ebtBAmDoboE5w3KVOFCK7ZysllNmytoV2ZOqeIRSUcFG7DPjfgCTP89VU5BrJXiEHRxlGtDwyls/s1600/SL384789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGPas7UpZV1atiQR1HXyBvsF8cS-q-BoaGZRM6yO0tNZ2J6HFkv0YMfsJxrhO2gCG7ebtBAmDoboE5w3KVOFCK7ZysllNmytoV2ZOqeIRSUcFG7DPjfgCTP89VU5BrJXiEHRxlGtDwyls/s1600/SL384789.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Takin' it back to October 2008... We had JUST started dating.</td></tr>
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My love for my husband has grown over the years. I love him more now than I did that night driving home. More than I did when I got on one knee and asked me to spend the rest of our lives together. More than I did when we said "I do."<br />
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Since the vows our relationship has changed. We have responsibilities, jobs, bills. We eventually bought a house and found out we were pregnant... two huge events. We lost our daughter, Anna, last November and our relationship changed again. We needed each other more than ever. Our love grew.<br />
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Very shortly after, we found out we were pregnant again. There was joy, fear but most of all... love. And it grew over the last nine months until the day that our son was born. Then it exploded!<br />
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I could quite literally feel my heart fill to the rim and I have never felt that way before. I am the luckist girl in the word to be married to such a wonderful man and to have such a beautiful and perfect son. Watching Patrick be an amazing dad makes me love my family even more. It makes me want to love them perfectly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGRzPQCVnSh703H2HLzXzurSmKuHmmPoni4QiPRlyhi9sT_MdHIMRY64WtyoeoKylZ9r3copROcci1MLdHpzv8gv8qua3wjJy0_-cRUGLtChNe_RvOWaVvc-XBUPXguMWTqS8HqVysXc/s1600/IMG_1264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGRzPQCVnSh703H2HLzXzurSmKuHmmPoni4QiPRlyhi9sT_MdHIMRY64WtyoeoKylZ9r3copROcci1MLdHpzv8gv8qua3wjJy0_-cRUGLtChNe_RvOWaVvc-XBUPXguMWTqS8HqVysXc/s1600/IMG_1264.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The night Luke was born.</td></tr>
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I had no doubts that Patrick would be an excellent father but seeing it all play out is breathtaking. It melts my heart to see Patrick and Luke lock eyes and hear Patrick say, "Daddy loves you." To see him try to comfort Luke when he is crying because Vitamin D and Zantac are just disgusting. To see him kiss his little head and tell him good night. It brings on feelings that I didn't know I could feel.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2tuYhneM1Arj4DpC-xGdRFkxr0Ok0m1QRi7qYbuJiCgY2ssPmfHzlPCdGy126tn4eA7NX2d1SvkeGF57DXksxk2_tlQbJOtQL9noWW_bec2m_vGzskpMxK6dUyfUG61Smbb7i1fjhyphenhyphenc/s1600/IMG_1295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2tuYhneM1Arj4DpC-xGdRFkxr0Ok0m1QRi7qYbuJiCgY2ssPmfHzlPCdGy126tn4eA7NX2d1SvkeGF57DXksxk2_tlQbJOtQL9noWW_bec2m_vGzskpMxK6dUyfUG61Smbb7i1fjhyphenhyphenc/s1600/IMG_1295.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patrick is such a great and very involved dad. I'm so blessed to have him by my side.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL1sQWvPzmvh_gub-FtPChWJE4YYuk7l07H6PLevBFar1uqwNUKDfcadM5X_2VdCLoyzpO5SDAH-gtfQMvEzKClCvnh9bcTQgTbsQXmwRMv7YjKEN6bRvbU9QuIzmbnmXGzEsSm2rVvQY/s1600/IMG_1338.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL1sQWvPzmvh_gub-FtPChWJE4YYuk7l07H6PLevBFar1uqwNUKDfcadM5X_2VdCLoyzpO5SDAH-gtfQMvEzKClCvnh9bcTQgTbsQXmwRMv7YjKEN6bRvbU9QuIzmbnmXGzEsSm2rVvQY/s1600/IMG_1338.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patrick and his mini me.</td></tr>
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These feelings are love. Pure and simple and beautiful love.<br />
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<br />Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-55444786760177967992014-10-09T08:43:00.001-07:002014-10-09T08:43:29.720-07:00The Miracle of Life<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had every intention of posting on update when I hit 40 weeks on September 17th. I took this picture... like I always do.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLz6UkVKIXKDdaD4eiULjdNwQOh1cDuTMbVinOuzG19c-nghBsaAO9cvOnNqVsYh1gtrLA5qpRvTIP9ZV3oJQD_0G9jx7L96Mzp8kmjoM-xyDoNotnMPIWaS57tQMLGfl32mra6pu6eg/s1600/IMG_1263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLz6UkVKIXKDdaD4eiULjdNwQOh1cDuTMbVinOuzG19c-nghBsaAO9cvOnNqVsYh1gtrLA5qpRvTIP9ZV3oJQD_0G9jx7L96Mzp8kmjoM-xyDoNotnMPIWaS57tQMLGfl32mra6pu6eg/s1600/IMG_1263.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was right before I left my house for my OB appointment. I woke up that morning amazed that I made it to 40 weeks. I was happy and also a little irritated. The last week had been rough to say the least and not knowing when it would all come to an end was just a little disheartening. I hesitate to say that I had been miserable because that sounds like I had no joy. I was very seriously looking forward to the birth of our son but.... pregnancy is hard.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I walked into the OB office ready to give the doctor an ultimatum of sorts. I was going to tell her that (despite her disbelief in induction) we had to set an induction date TODAY. I didn't care that it could potentially not be fore a couple more weeks. I just needed to see an end in sight. Realistically, I knew I wouldn't be pregnant forever but I at least needed to be able to count down or something. Like I mentioned, the last week had been rough with pain, contractions, difficulty with daily tasks... and remember that I was planning to work up until the day he was born.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The appointment was going just like it usually does, pee in a cup, step on the scale, check BP... wait for the doctor. She walked in an asked how I was doing and I gave her the low down without sounding like I was complaining too much. I always play down my pain. Pride.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She got out the doppler and started to look for the heartbeat and then looked at me funny as we listened to that sweet lub-dub of his heart. "That's quite a contraction you are having there." And I probably made some comment to brush it off... like I always do. Then she checked me. "Wow... you are a good 6 cm, 50% effaced. Your cervix is very favorable!" She sounded surprised.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After a short discussion she basically told me that I have probably been in early "unorganized labor" for the better part of a week. She said that it could be any time now. OR I could run down and get some Jack Stack BBQ (It was the Hospital's Annual Employee Appreciation lunch and she knew I worked there) and then meet her up on Labor and Delivery and she could break my water and we could "see what happens."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">YES, PLEASE!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I quickly texted Patrick, who also works at the hospital, to try and catch him before his noon meeting. I went to the floor he works on and told him it was Baby Time. He kind of started sweating and immediately asked if everything was ok to which I assured him everything was fine. He finished up at work while I went down to grab my BBQ.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I sat with some work friends and they all couldn't believe that I was just sitting around laughing and joking and eating BBQ and then I was going to go have a baby. One of the doctors jokingly said, "6 cm?!?! Are you ok? Can't things start falling out at 6 cm??!" His wife has only had a C-section for their twins so he doesn't have a lot of personal experience with labor haha.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After my "last supper," Patrick and I headed up to the Labor and Delivery floor, got checked in and situated and then the doctor came in. She broke my water which was much less painful this time around. The plan was to wait and see if anything happened over the next several hours, to see if this labor could become "organized" or is I would have any contractions at all. The hope was that I would go into labor on my own, but if I didn't they would induce me with Pitocin. I really didn't WANT medication for induction but at this point I was just so ready to meet my sweet boy that I didn't care!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will spare you the details but here is the basic timeline:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1:30 PM- Water broken, 6cm, 50% effaced</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2:30 PM- Went for a walk in the hallway and HELLO, CONTRACTIONS!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3:00 PM- 6cm, 90% effaced, started hypnobirthing (I will have to do another post about that one day)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4:00 PM- 8 cm, 100% effaced, OB notified</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4:15 PM- 10 cm, 100% effaced, I told the nurse she may have to deliver this baby if Dr. doesnt show up.... so they called her again and told her to get there STAT. They told me to "breathe through the next few contractions until the doctor got there."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4:30 PM- Dr. arrived and I started pushing with the contractions.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Birth was the most amazing thing I have ever done. I had no pain medication and no induction medication. It was all me. My body. I felt his head weighing down and my body was pushing him out (quite literally on its own) with each contraction. I realize that my pushing was just facilitating what my body was already managing on its own. They could see his head and they kept calling him "Alfalfa." I couldn't believe he had hair! I was a baldy at birth... and for a few years actually! I birthed his head and there was immediate relief. . They told me to give one more push so I did. Mid-push one of the nurses said, "Do you want to help deliver your baby?" I thought, "Ummm... that's what I'm doing." I opened my eyes and saw the face and upper body of my sweet little boy. I quickly understood what they meant and I reached down and pulled him the rest of the way out! It was the most amazing moment of my entire life!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4:50 PM- Birth!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIwZxSXWGDWAlHFV0kOcMt2BwgUyA8boZxg1fj-zw8sN907E9-wnr0nPp5wOq8UsSNK-MyegZuY1YweNgbjlmWcTxPWyePEmUjuWJh_GAIPmZ4pSqwRrCvCN4cBw4vIj0GgnfZg1xcKA/s1600/IMG_1271.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIwZxSXWGDWAlHFV0kOcMt2BwgUyA8boZxg1fj-zw8sN907E9-wnr0nPp5wOq8UsSNK-MyegZuY1YweNgbjlmWcTxPWyePEmUjuWJh_GAIPmZ4pSqwRrCvCN4cBw4vIj0GgnfZg1xcKA/s1600/IMG_1271.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We did it! This was my first moment with Luke Joseph Gorman. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbMUK9Jwv3XQM0HrK__FGiMLgTbpkWlxfFLpIApucdA1AC_EVE5RbWN-5BnyBNiDlElcgfYfmL5N871nqfuGgYTuXovA8fbYRlMBKpfIpNo1weH46B9JWQZ9URhIlz8sGnGRey90-EX_w/s1600/IMG_1266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbMUK9Jwv3XQM0HrK__FGiMLgTbpkWlxfFLpIApucdA1AC_EVE5RbWN-5BnyBNiDlElcgfYfmL5N871nqfuGgYTuXovA8fbYRlMBKpfIpNo1weH46B9JWQZ9URhIlz8sGnGRey90-EX_w/s1600/IMG_1266.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Admiring our gift from God.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9bED86RQHf4sy6glkY_H8ZcABeldcM8RR8g-LJWv2-zo-NLZ-_wSYxvqH4AgGP6eATBcnr00Nyrzb6iVowXI3XsvPS2KgWAA19dEePdHl2gojtnE8TtheZfa6v0k1AM-CH34QMQWIzBc/s1600/IMG_1267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9bED86RQHf4sy6glkY_H8ZcABeldcM8RR8g-LJWv2-zo-NLZ-_wSYxvqH4AgGP6eATBcnr00Nyrzb6iVowXI3XsvPS2KgWAA19dEePdHl2gojtnE8TtheZfa6v0k1AM-CH34QMQWIzBc/s1600/IMG_1267.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is pure joy.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXprqIqOB8gjWzc3BEUYsbUgPGybaraXQazXMn2qm2xwbrsqXF6NYn4kuDd0-roVZvYyojtgQ0NsTDnNa8Q1i_JzsuznsoX7r3rIwFoZtluj3pKSt8xTuTXgSUJy0aSfooIY7NKCWQt2w/s1600/IMG_1265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXprqIqOB8gjWzc3BEUYsbUgPGybaraXQazXMn2qm2xwbrsqXF6NYn4kuDd0-roVZvYyojtgQ0NsTDnNa8Q1i_JzsuznsoX7r3rIwFoZtluj3pKSt8xTuTXgSUJy0aSfooIY7NKCWQt2w/s1600/IMG_1265.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Beautiful. He weighed 9 lbs and was 22 inches long.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfN88EiPYIbofJObhXuiX4nEjpqjKu2xq4YGDZbQul1fPUiNLJehupdg3oMlUDEAydYuG-pPI3hEqot9chutQ4_E5AZqrw9M1pKzT8XfwyVqO024Us_wI70w1tmm0kcJnpSB856o369T0/s1600/IMG_1272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfN88EiPYIbofJObhXuiX4nEjpqjKu2xq4YGDZbQul1fPUiNLJehupdg3oMlUDEAydYuG-pPI3hEqot9chutQ4_E5AZqrw9M1pKzT8XfwyVqO024Us_wI70w1tmm0kcJnpSB856o369T0/s1600/IMG_1272.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Look at my long baby! THIS fit inside me. Look up at that belly picture and be amazed!</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">More related posts to follow :)</span></div>
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<br />Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-75383168017169359752014-09-10T20:09:00.001-07:002014-09-10T20:09:06.767-07:0039!Here I am at 39 weeks with my baby boy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEYtrAdz34QSx6mj30S-sS5m39ybX-kGGn667vX9r8Y9B8kVKkn3sDufJ2RhSQ-cn9E8FcehaI0UNTpB_fiofPTbL66hHDP8nzd6f0eB2edeps7qW1gTUndcDeEVtfDzWKfji8zEwmg5Y/s640/blogger-image--730942191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEYtrAdz34QSx6mj30S-sS5m39ybX-kGGn667vX9r8Y9B8kVKkn3sDufJ2RhSQ-cn9E8FcehaI0UNTpB_fiofPTbL66hHDP8nzd6f0eB2edeps7qW1gTUndcDeEVtfDzWKfji8zEwmg5Y/s640/blogger-image--730942191.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I look happy, huh?! Haha</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Baby has dropped I think and I am nice and puffy from about my mid calf down. It's pretty sexy. But honestly, I'm good with it. He will be here any day now and I know he will come at just the right time. So even though I'm anxious for him to make his appearance, I'm ok with waiting a little bit if I have to. He will come when the time is right!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Prayers for a happy, healthy and safe delivery in the near future would be so appreciated :)</div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-11110642224468166762014-09-08T17:12:00.001-07:002014-09-08T17:12:48.600-07:00Dreams and rainbowsBaby boy will be here any day! We are so excited... Overjoyed! But sometimes I feel guilty for being happy.<div><br></div><div>I know there is no rule on how long one should mourn the loss of their child but sometimes I worry I never got to finish mourning. I mean, I found out I was pregnant again less than 2 months after I delivered little Anna. Stillbirths are terrible. They are difficult. They are emotional. But I have been thankful that I was given our baby boy so soon. It gave me something to be happy about again. </div><div><br></div><div>But the guilt still hits me. Sometimes when I'm really excited and anticipating the arrival of our son, Anna pops into my head and I feel bad for being happy. I feel like I need to apologize to her. I don't want her to ever be "forgotten."</div><div><br></div><div>This has been my fear all along. And I have that same guilt when people ask me, "Is this your first?" And I say yes. Not because I believe that my baby boy is my first child but because I feel like if they don't already know then maybe they don't need to know... And not because I don't want to talk about it but I have learned that people (other people) are really uncomfortable talking about it... Probably because they assume I am uncomfortable. Which I'm not.</div><div><br></div><div>Anna has given me some signs that everything is ok though. Or maybe it's God. Or both. I don't really know. Maybe it's all in my head. But I feel better. </div><div><br></div><div>Ever since Anna passed away I have thought that rainbows were a sign that she was still around, watching over Patrick and I. Why a rainbow? Well, the song If I Die Young by The Band Perry says, "Lord, make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother. She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my color. Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, oh, ain't even gray and she buries her baby." Tearing up a little? It gets me every time. Anyways, I have only seen 2 or 3 rainbows since she passed but it was always when I really needed it. And on my drive to work last week I was emotional. I had the guilt. I want to be happy about the birth of my son but I still miss my daughter. And then I saw the most perfect rainbow shooting up out of downtown Kansas City. And this picture doesn't do it justice. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJBuN1pT5nOQf5IhoYgVWkfjCM0FtMUPtt6e9lzr7KzgWQM0TnRn6Rmtvnl5agD6FfAQVC6zmIvM1lbdcxV8jedc72OrLmFvGpL9L8C9B_AXt_z0UcL-ilq_I4kyIKs_FyImiZbiaGvyQ/s640/blogger-image-60164049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJBuN1pT5nOQf5IhoYgVWkfjCM0FtMUPtt6e9lzr7KzgWQM0TnRn6Rmtvnl5agD6FfAQVC6zmIvM1lbdcxV8jedc72OrLmFvGpL9L8C9B_AXt_z0UcL-ilq_I4kyIKs_FyImiZbiaGvyQ/s640/blogger-image-60164049.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">You can barely see it in this picture. I promise it was impressive when I was actually driving but ya know... Safety first. No taking pictures and driving.</div><div><br></div><div>And then, this weekend I had a dream that Patrick and I were bringing our son home from the hospital and as we were walking up the front steps of our house I saw a baby (maybe a year old) standing, holding herself up against the tall glass windows on the sides of our front foot. She had the biggest smile in her face, and she was still pretty bald (I was bald until I was about 2 haha). We were so excited to see each other and when I opened the door she reached up to me and said, "mama!" I scooped her up and introduced her to her brother. We weren't at all alarmed that she was home alone. </div><div><br></div><div>And now I'm tearing up typing this. I wish she was here. I will never feel differently about that because I'm human. But I think it's ok for me to feel the joy of this new life. Anna is going to watch over us.</div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-28397192923675590882014-09-05T06:04:00.001-07:002014-09-05T06:04:24.849-07:0038 + weeks and over it :)Yay for 38 weeks! It continues to blow my mind that I have had this baby inside me for this long AND he will be here so soon!<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7j8WG7nzVz5xhxt-_qqv0iBAn9WVRp_5rcbuE8QpkDq9upjUBkSNME5IUlmrJvnn4IujqYhXN24U3lA3wMfFQsLIiHrS1mGJ0R7rieDWPN0sqHy_NugFUnsGhnpBpXBdbMZjL9-Z4ojg/s640/blogger-image-1441319927.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7j8WG7nzVz5xhxt-_qqv0iBAn9WVRp_5rcbuE8QpkDq9upjUBkSNME5IUlmrJvnn4IujqYhXN24U3lA3wMfFQsLIiHrS1mGJ0R7rieDWPN0sqHy_NugFUnsGhnpBpXBdbMZjL9-Z4ojg/s640/blogger-image-1441319927.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Pregnancy is truly amazing. Seriously, think about it. Women have the ability to grow a human being INSIDE OF THEM. That baby is alive and moving around and then when they get big enough they are born and... It is just amazing. I can't think of a more appropriate word right now. </div><div><br></div><div>As great and to be honest miraculous pregnancy is I am over it. I'm done. I want him to get out all ready. I know this sounds pretty contradictory considering how amazing I think pregnancy and birth is but it's the truth. And here is why: I am unbelievably tired of hearing all the commentary from acquaintances and strangers alike. It's like these people have never seen a pregnant lady before.</div><div><br></div><div>"Are you having triplets or just twins." This is not an acceptable comment to make to anyone ever. This is implying that I am huge. Which I am because I'm 9months pregnant, but still, no one is allowed to comment in my size.</div><div><br></div><div>"You are carrying so high. There is no way you are having a boy. It must be a girl." Do you have any idea what kind if anxiety that gives me. Everything I have is boyish. And while it actually doesn't matter if I'm having a boy or girl in my mind... I'm a planner. The ultrasound tech told me it was a boy and that is what I have been planning on for the last 20 or so weeks.</div><div><br></div><div>"A salad? Your baby needs more than salad." So am I fat or small? I'm confused. Thanks but my baby is fine. He is getting plenty if nutrients. And quite frankly I can't comfortably eat steak and potatoes because that baby boy that I am carrying so high is obstructing the space where my stomach used to be. Plus, I am following my salad with a large chocolate chip cookie... But that's beside the point. Mind your own business.</div><div><br></div><div>"You are still here!?" I get this every day of work. It's not even my due date. You can start acting surprised to see me after September 17 th. Until then, just plan on me being here. I know I look like I'm ready to pop but I'm carrying too high, remember? Baby boy is takin his time.</div><div><br></div><div>"Enjoy your alone time while you still can." "Enjoy your sleep while you can." Etcetera. Last time I checked having a child was a blessing, not a curse. This was not an accident. This was not something someone made us do or that we did out of obligation. We made a conscious decision to love each other and the children we create knowing the sacrifices that go along with it. My life is not going to end when I have a baby. It is a new chapter beginning.</div><div><br></div><div>"Get an epidural, whatever you do!!! ... Oh you can't have one? Labor is going to be terrible." Thanks. Heard that before. It's called labor for a reason. But you don't know me and you don't know what I am capable of and your judgements are not in anyway beneficial to me. I am confident in myself and my body's ability to give birth. I don't judge people that have cesarean sections because sometimes that really is the best thing. I just don't think it's right for me. People did it without medical intervention for years. I can handle it but thanks for telling me I can't.</div><div><br></div><div>You see... I feel like I am constantly under the microscope. People are always analyze me physically. And looking at me. Which I don't like. And everyone seems to be an expert in child growing and birthing. They also fail to remember that I have already experienced labor with my stillborn daughter. But I don't like to bring that up. I try to keep my mouth shut. I try to be polite and smile and nod. I just wish others would do the same.</div><div><br></div><div>So here I am at 38 + weeks pregnant. Large. Uncomfortable. And I just want him to come already. I'm ready for this.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-72944378038654153242014-08-27T17:47:00.000-07:002014-08-27T19:09:25.977-07:00Full term! Technically.Hello, 37 weeks! We made it to full term! It was starting to feel like this day would never come but here we are.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkMLr2hxETD-X5W47sXZ3AW6-NawdX7zITFh0162cIyxVYk_TAh4CPEGLo91qKQ3gzM6V6IunLLopajQl1jqcdEnl7bLGdRv7p6W3CgHYyixIQmjiJnxi2EtTCPeGUM2snAhlviUzrUKw/s640/blogger-image--659382803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkMLr2hxETD-X5W47sXZ3AW6-NawdX7zITFh0162cIyxVYk_TAh4CPEGLo91qKQ3gzM6V6IunLLopajQl1jqcdEnl7bLGdRv7p6W3CgHYyixIQmjiJnxi2EtTCPeGUM2snAhlviUzrUKw/s640/blogger-image--659382803.jpg"></a></div>
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Patrick and I spent the weekend in Fort Scott with his family. Well.... he actually was in Pittsburg with his friends having man time, drinking whiskey, playing video games and golfing. I spent quite a bit of time with his family though. Patrick's aunt and cousin threw me a shower and it was really nice and low key. No games! yay! It was so nice to see some of his extended family that I rarely see. Only downside was that it was at my in-laws lakehouse (a little A-frame with {I KID YOU NOT} no insulation) and it was hotter than hell... Fat pregnant lady was sweating!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgucTruWVRJ1CgC-nB_th5Qk5Q0XT1bYjGdAF-ccjsu9O5V8fiYWLgmwWnc8PSwyzo3jvu-xuGQbiNb08jL4hjhUDI3WKHVF5Y8JJ3xLYl4z15gOIPYKYMLAQBCgw_uHXdt0UeAWziCI_s/s640/blogger-image--2027048776.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgucTruWVRJ1CgC-nB_th5Qk5Q0XT1bYjGdAF-ccjsu9O5V8fiYWLgmwWnc8PSwyzo3jvu-xuGQbiNb08jL4hjhUDI3WKHVF5Y8JJ3xLYl4z15gOIPYKYMLAQBCgw_uHXdt0UeAWziCI_s/s640/blogger-image--2027048776.jpg"></a></div>With my MIL<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-jX-ASD-cIYdByNk-1TIdKmqZnrIeOxyz6kNvZuRpKWynviD3HXeMxt1HL9t3svm5-XtFFtaGjtwzCI0q4ZaGaEVWS72TCrmDu7ca5jZBQnIm31tjMuz1xBQ4CQNkDC8-DwY9uXQD5pA/s640/blogger-image--1328741048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-jX-ASD-cIYdByNk-1TIdKmqZnrIeOxyz6kNvZuRpKWynviD3HXeMxt1HL9t3svm5-XtFFtaGjtwzCI0q4ZaGaEVWS72TCrmDu7ca5jZBQnIm31tjMuz1xBQ4CQNkDC8-DwY9uXQD5pA/s640/blogger-image--1328741048.jpg"></a></div>With my MIL and all the lovely hostesses<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj94D_mLTD7dBQ8g5-r38wuR9mIdXS2TsumpRA-HdnJkmCvSOrdJ8jXWK-2iGnK9rlr275ZSRnQCtPvfTzPDj_Wz9yfTzMEpfgW0ZxDFIZDw_OfgxXvIBdE-NaIwJPDOXsvqHyn5cmaCKQ/s640/blogger-image-839506657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj94D_mLTD7dBQ8g5-r38wuR9mIdXS2TsumpRA-HdnJkmCvSOrdJ8jXWK-2iGnK9rlr275ZSRnQCtPvfTzPDj_Wz9yfTzMEpfgW0ZxDFIZDw_OfgxXvIBdE-NaIwJPDOXsvqHyn5cmaCKQ/s640/blogger-image-839506657.jpg"></a></div>The best cookies ever.<div><br>
This past Sunday we about headed to the hospital. I was having contractions.... every 4 ish mins.... for like 5 hours. I know, I know. I probably should have called the doctor at the very least but I didn't. I was not convinced they were the real deal. They definitely felt stronger than the normal Braxton Hicks I have been having since 22 weeks but they were not... painful.<br>
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So we made it through Sunday and I have continued to have contractions off and on since then. Something funny has changed since Sunday noight though. Suddenly, we are so ready. The anticipation was building and while I'm glad we didn't have to go to the hospital that night I think there was a part of us that was disappointed the night didn't result in us meeting our son. But he will certainly be here soon!<br>
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Monday, my work people threw me a shower! I am constantly amazed at the generosity of others. It was really fun and though I don't like the attention it was pretty chill. Patrick made it to the shower due to some unforseen issues that caused him to not be seen by his new Primary Care Physician. It was sort of a bummer actually but I was very glad he was there. Even though he doesn't really know anyone at my work I think it's important for the dad to be involved. I may be carrying the baby but we are equal in this.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYFvOPxfPKlvR_ciqYkBBffyirlrK_0GudRHPh65THu6tSV7pqQzpqPQqDipGqZwlI3dlJGkUoI-zGHtpDnGNCsm2-QFNPlTSpCOz0S_0qdh6ikH7PRkIt7SYR4GIidJ_uAp4SF7X7f0k/s640/blogger-image-611536176.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYFvOPxfPKlvR_ciqYkBBffyirlrK_0GudRHPh65THu6tSV7pqQzpqPQqDipGqZwlI3dlJGkUoI-zGHtpDnGNCsm2-QFNPlTSpCOz0S_0qdh6ikH7PRkIt7SYR4GIidJ_uAp4SF7X7f0k/s640/blogger-image-611536176.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjHzqgygcqynDI2mj-6R0qcDTa4R361jHeQHxAcdCX06Z1aSakMOwvgzWVBzWoYgxmCsWIyBImbzpLPMq0O3OA_WmCVbR5G6PH6JwtJFIXhxiO0Ko75ZQNXqMtxoNv3P_rFQZ7Z6J5CHI/s640/blogger-image-28322536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjHzqgygcqynDI2mj-6R0qcDTa4R361jHeQHxAcdCX06Z1aSakMOwvgzWVBzWoYgxmCsWIyBImbzpLPMq0O3OA_WmCVbR5G6PH6JwtJFIXhxiO0Ko75ZQNXqMtxoNv3P_rFQZ7Z6J5CHI/s640/blogger-image-28322536.jpg"></a></div><br>
I had an OB appointmnet today. Most of my appointments up until this point have been really uneventful which after my pregnancy with Anna... I am ok with that. But today was a little more eventful! I had my Group B Strep swab which is SO. NOT. FUN. If you don't know what that is then go ahead and google it but dear Lord don't look at images, whatever you do! After the lovely swabbing, my OB "checked" me. Now normally this is not a fun time either but it was good news!<br>
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My doctor looked very surprised and said that I was dilated to 3 cm, 50% effaced and in her words VERY soft. Sorry if this is TMI for anyone but this is big to me! And I'm a nurse so I'm literally unphased by this sort of talk.<br>
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Now, this does not mean I am going to have this baby soon necessarily. I could stay at 3cm for the next several weeks and that would not be abnormal. Or I could continue to dilate and have him in a day or two. There is really just no telling what the timeline is. Botom line... Baby Boy is coming when he feels like it.</div><div><br></div><div>Keep us in your prayers as we continue to prepare ourselves for this incredible new chapter in our lives: parenthood! Please and thank you :)</div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-4499519047531021492014-08-22T04:42:00.001-07:002014-08-22T04:42:58.673-07:0036 weeks... As in I'm 9months pregnant! Oh my!Wednesday I hit the 9 month mark! 36 weeks! That means 4 more weeks until my due date!<div><br><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSqjPYIGwIFigxL7KKzU66pS6Ltv-phnHCHGaldk0oDhup7C5ICVNe322u4Qw48xnRObO6rz00DTl5oOX0etgajDaP6tNG7inSm__tnauaXgVit0jDoClr_UKPrWWW6c6YbqUSpdc0qZg/s640/blogger-image--1243803691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSqjPYIGwIFigxL7KKzU66pS6Ltv-phnHCHGaldk0oDhup7C5ICVNe322u4Qw48xnRObO6rz00DTl5oOX0etgajDaP6tNG7inSm__tnauaXgVit0jDoClr_UKPrWWW6c6YbqUSpdc0qZg/s640/blogger-image--1243803691.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I'm feeling pretty large these days but as far as I can tell my face still isn't fat thank goodness! AND my wedding ring still fits... My goal all along has been for me to never have to take it off! Good so far!</div><div><br></div><div>Things are getting rough. I have had a great pregnancy overall so I should not complain at all but if other women feel like I have felt in the last week or two I see why they act so miserable. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm worried that my cankles might be permanent. I looked down at my feet this morning and thought to myself, "hey, those aren't too hideous!" So I worse a knee length dress to work. Funny thing is that I was at work for less than an hour and two people made comments like, "oh you poor thing! Your ankles are so swollen!" First of all, it makes me cringe any time someone says poor me. It makes me feel weak. And secondly... Thanks for pointing out my elephant feet :)</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHP8VJeBvf4HDesAGUzf_y1-u-XJyWizp0D17qHqfKt_OeLU8W8jHBttT_umfc0Ypkb0VO_mezJktn-1RAh5Nqo79EL1bB0aXqu4TSYmaljONiNqGSMUhHX6TqnqFvhrO7YZhaWyzDgZE/s640/blogger-image-1753074758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHP8VJeBvf4HDesAGUzf_y1-u-XJyWizp0D17qHqfKt_OeLU8W8jHBttT_umfc0Ypkb0VO_mezJktn-1RAh5Nqo79EL1bB0aXqu4TSYmaljONiNqGSMUhHX6TqnqFvhrO7YZhaWyzDgZE/s640/blogger-image-1753074758.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Cute, aren't they? And notice that I'm not wearing toe nail polish. That's because I can't reach them and I haven't mustered up enough humility to ask someone else to paint them for me... I wonder how Patrick's painting skills are when it's on a little toe nail and not a large wall???!</div><div><br></div><div>Also something horrible happened on Tuesday. I was walking down this long hallway at the hospital where I work. I was focusing really hard on not waddling because ya know... Nothin is cute about waddling. And I hear this clicking sound.... My shoe lace was untied. And I knew I couldn't bend down in the hallway... Publicly... In my place of business.... Gracefully. So I had to walk all the way to my destination and find a chair. And let me tell you... It still wasn't a piece of cake to tie my dang shoe!</div><div><br></div><div>So between the pain if my stretching pelvis, my swollen ankles, and my inability to do simple tasks like tie my shoe... I'm kind if a hot mess.</div><div><br></div><div>But I am grateful and I will offer up any discomfort and inconvenience for my children. The one on the way and the one that is a little saint in heaven. I often wonder how much suffering my little Anna felt as she struggled to survive in my womb. Hopefully very little or none at all but still... I am offering it all up.</div><div><br></div><div>I am just so happy that I have made it this far and that in a matter of a few weeks I will be holding my sweet little Luke!</div></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-84501848847941175442014-08-21T06:17:00.001-07:002014-08-21T06:17:45.538-07:0033 weeks todayEvery week is starting to feel like a mile stone and again... It is all really sinking in now!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN_CLrawlKqf7BYkm1m-gu11keOc4BxJn6Q9KaAbsFkEI2L_8mNgkr-alZSeXAtoPv9d4SNTGn7luM4E8yc7f3kDYxTge02VUZljuyn14C5VcjX3gDC7gacF9JUjnuf_LkL45Yp20KM40/s640/blogger-image-147393439.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN_CLrawlKqf7BYkm1m-gu11keOc4BxJn6Q9KaAbsFkEI2L_8mNgkr-alZSeXAtoPv9d4SNTGn7luM4E8yc7f3kDYxTge02VUZljuyn14C5VcjX3gDC7gacF9JUjnuf_LkL45Yp20KM40/s640/blogger-image-147393439.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div><div>Of course my very round abdomen is helping me stay in touch with reality too. It's getting to be a bit obstructive. I have accidentally hit my belly closing the door to closets, the fridge... You name it. It's pretty prominent now haha.</div><div><br></div><div>So prominent in fact that I have been experiencing that shortness if breath people always talk about. I mentioned in a previous post that I would be hypnobirthing. This is still true and I'm very excited about it actually but I have to practice all this deep breathing and seriously... I can't do it. There is just no room for my lungs to expand right now haha.</div><div><br></div><div>Patrick and I are trying to get as many things done before the little one arrives as we can. And since two of my closest friends had their babes 5 and 6 weeks early we really want to be prepared. I doubt I would go early but better safe than sorry! So we bought our deep freeze two weekends ago, the nursery is all ready (though it still needs some extra touches here and there), etc. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggiXdn6InLPC4hcJmOqF4bCczMQiUWXiz30eJTWbIa7GkGLptxYsNfv5Szv18S7wosc8hghg2rdL7VfKFPNEdcNqJ13lBIBnLVxaed1evN3P4ynuoqr2XgpYauWcybWbmfyyCRKpRmQBw/s640/blogger-image-489242383.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggiXdn6InLPC4hcJmOqF4bCczMQiUWXiz30eJTWbIa7GkGLptxYsNfv5Szv18S7wosc8hghg2rdL7VfKFPNEdcNqJ13lBIBnLVxaed1evN3P4ynuoqr2XgpYauWcybWbmfyyCRKpRmQBw/s640/blogger-image-489242383.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirw-mlMp62ZXENtJxg8Dyd4c2Uh8b7s-PD4IxynZjL5vGfBbXVYr1lhkPQegFREEuG7Z4JLE6tCX4L25lgYDmx4-0_wZAjYYEPOMiQBh9Bc8DLV_1RzMMsm0_m0hT6ptwN1ZV_IemchVs/s640/blogger-image--49005624.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirw-mlMp62ZXENtJxg8Dyd4c2Uh8b7s-PD4IxynZjL5vGfBbXVYr1lhkPQegFREEuG7Z4JLE6tCX4L25lgYDmx4-0_wZAjYYEPOMiQBh9Bc8DLV_1RzMMsm0_m0hT6ptwN1ZV_IemchVs/s640/blogger-image--49005624.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnmk4xTOf_aLwldkmIKtpBrDZmApGpDzP_CMu_pglRJ96blCdq0UxGAY0PW_EeU2UlUKT2sTCTuSZGK9_ROzp9HKROfuW1npcjU_oRP4xWu0PLvU-vBb6sJmJ-xcv6COZgsxo50ArVpeU/s640/blogger-image-2125430535.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnmk4xTOf_aLwldkmIKtpBrDZmApGpDzP_CMu_pglRJ96blCdq0UxGAY0PW_EeU2UlUKT2sTCTuSZGK9_ROzp9HKROfuW1npcjU_oRP4xWu0PLvU-vBb6sJmJ-xcv6COZgsxo50ArVpeU/s640/blogger-image-2125430535.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnHh39K2uxeZPsIiYuTOdlNz1sLnKTAvIQPpNTrYPt-YUY_NLNbt0-frnrnokMdTxQ0WCr9o_W2tJx5fZFqQJD974PMnzp1l4PI2SC4v8fpxlgufPlCu7cYfMKmYbGecR4TlJMsaGmPp8/s640/blogger-image--2109264117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnHh39K2uxeZPsIiYuTOdlNz1sLnKTAvIQPpNTrYPt-YUY_NLNbt0-frnrnokMdTxQ0WCr9o_W2tJx5fZFqQJD974PMnzp1l4PI2SC4v8fpxlgufPlCu7cYfMKmYbGecR4TlJMsaGmPp8/s640/blogger-image--2109264117.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFN9J66xYxV-qDTFQGk3Jx7JUqCabDsYSKRtMg-HwUm_iuGGuj-sWcgAfGeOA7mQShV2swYiOgHZ8UxNVNXz0Wmm51MoGzmQnm_aWkjneuVzPHAw2Np3vApwAaFlnrXQ-fHjTdHphfw0/s640/blogger-image--1781488458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFN9J66xYxV-qDTFQGk3Jx7JUqCabDsYSKRtMg-HwUm_iuGGuj-sWcgAfGeOA7mQShV2swYiOgHZ8UxNVNXz0Wmm51MoGzmQnm_aWkjneuVzPHAw2Np3vApwAaFlnrXQ-fHjTdHphfw0/s640/blogger-image--1781488458.jpg"></a></div>We even got the pack n play set up downstairs in the living room!</div><br></div><div>One of the things I feel like I need to get done is packing the hospital bag. I have seen so many lists and stuff in Pinterest but it's just overwhelming. I don't want to overpack but I also don't want to wish I had brought such-and-such or whatever. Such a conundrum!!! Some things seem a little excessive and I'm pretty sure the hospital supplies a lot too. But anyways, I'm going to plan to get the hospital bag packed this weekend. Any advice would be so helpful!!!</div><div><br></div><div>Kind of off topic but my OB appt today went really well. I am just so glad that my OB is so supportive of me and my choice for a natural childbirth (though again this is only partly by choice). It's refreshing. It does give me a little added pressure though to have a smooth delivery since hypnobirthing was actually her idea!!! Hopefully all goes well!! I'm actually very excited about delivery :)</div><div><br></div><div>More to come!</div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-48659009239183914402014-08-18T19:10:00.000-07:002014-08-21T06:28:07.966-07:00NestingI have always heard that pregnant women start "nesting" before baby comes. It's like something happens in your head and no matter how tired you are mentally and physcially... you HAVE TO nest.<br>
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This struggle is real.<br>
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About 2 weeks ago, I had this sudden urge to pack a bag for the hospital. It was during the week and I knew I didn't have everything I needed so I was harrassing every person I could think of for ideas of what I should and should not bring to the hospital. I was super organized and I made this crazy list based on what people told me (and of course, what I saw on pinterest) and then.... I went shopping. I must have really been obsessing over it big time becuase Patrick could not believe I didn't empty our bank account haha<br>
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So what did I get for my hospital bag? I got 3 pairs of pajamas. 2 of them are long pants with a button up, collared top which makes me look like an old man. And the other one is a night gown and makes me look like an old woman. You think I'm kidding? Seriously, I think my grandma has one just like it in yellow. Not even lying! But they are so dang comfy! I don't think Patrick was impressed haha<br>
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I also got all travel sized toiletries. I am not one to buy that kind of stuff but I want everything ready ahead of time and I want to literally just grab my make up bag and my hair brush and go.... so I went all out! I also got some other essentials for the not-at-all pleasant part of post-baby.... I don't think I need to go into any detail there, right?<br>
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SO I came home with all my loot, packed my bag and even went as far as to make a check-list for last minute things to grab before heading out the door. This includes everything Patrick will need (becuase I know I won't be able to get him to pack a stitch ahead of time), phone chargers, camera chargers and things like that, and towels and trash bags for the car.... just in case things get.... messy. That is Patrick's biggest fear I think.<br>
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I was feeling so prepared! And then I looked at the nursery that I had called "finished" when talking to my mom probably a week before. I looked around that thought.. " this is NOT done." So ya know what I did? I went crazy. I organized EVERYTHING. I have all his clothes sorted by size and put in drawers based on size. I have the changing station all set up with literally everything I would ever need. I organized the shelves in the closet so each shelf sort of has a specific theme (like one is breast feeding items, another one is sheets and blankets etc). I went nuts. But now it look pretty dang good!<br>
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Then, this past weekend we decided to install the carseat.... it is a month until my due date and my car seat is installed and ready to go! That is insane! That was also a bit if an adventure as Patrick did most if the work and doesn't do well with reading instructions... Which I already learned when he put the crib rails on backwards :)<br>
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I have also been a total nazi at home about the kitchen. I'm kind of on the obsessive side when it comes to a clean kitchen anyways (I have watched too much Dr. Oz, Oprah and The Doctors) but it have really taken it to the next level. There cannot be even ONE thing out of place and I Lysol the countertops probably way too much... I'm not sure there is a limit on it but if there is im probably pushing it.<br>
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So... despite the fact that today I feel like my pelvis is going to split in half from all the weight that is bearing down on it... I somehow still found a way to come home after 10 hrs of a rough day at work, cooked dinner, cleaned (and I mean REALLY cleaned) the kitchen, put laundry away, took out the recycling, showered, had a small bowl of icecream, watched an episode of Orange is the New Black on Netflix (Side note: that show is so raunchy... I don't know if I will keep watching it), and now I'm writing a blog post. And I'm exhausted.<br>
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Time to hit the lights and turn on my Hypnobirthing soundtrack and fall into deep relaxation! This mama needs it!<div><br><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunuIIyrH5ResTL-OsW-vOJWRW2y5IQDRGOd_ZNQ7et-o9UzbfuVWgpifBmFAAb-qy22nsdxWRf1bcMrL1cZ_E7ptjwXyi5JdTdq7uxFORqIe7Okv7CS7iGjqwc0igUSPh1HmsiwaVIzU/s640/blogger-image-19897072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunuIIyrH5ResTL-OsW-vOJWRW2y5IQDRGOd_ZNQ7et-o9UzbfuVWgpifBmFAAb-qy22nsdxWRf1bcMrL1cZ_E7ptjwXyi5JdTdq7uxFORqIe7Okv7CS7iGjqwc0igUSPh1HmsiwaVIzU/s640/blogger-image-19897072.jpg"></a></div><br>
Pucker up little Luke! Can't wait to kiss that sweet little face :)<br>
<br></div></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-42300397956089094172014-07-21T20:00:00.002-07:002014-07-21T20:00:20.382-07:00(Almost) 32 weeks and the story of my shining moment...Yes, you read that correctly! This week marks 32 weeks! I'm a solid month into my third trimester with my little man and I am just so in love with him.<br />
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I am sure I have mentioned this before but things are getting very REAL now... I guess it's a good thing for it to feel more and more real everyday. I just can't believe in a few short weeks we will have our little boy at home with us!<br />
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Now for some honesty... pregnancy is rough, ya'll. I know that some people have the horrendous morning sickness and dizziness and dehydration that puts them in the hosiptal and all that craziness that I have never experienced. And for that reason alone I feel that I shouldn't complain too much. In fact, up until about a month ago I would admit that pregnancy has been a breeze! But oh boy, the swelling... the pain....<br />
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I mentioned some of that in my last post. The swelling is not really better... it comes and goes and some days are worse than others depending on how much I'm on my feet, how hydrated I am etc. The pubic symphysis pain is still pretty rough but luckily I have learned some ways to modify my movements doing everyday tasks which has really helped to lessen the severity.<br />
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Another thing about pregnancy... people stare at you. ALL. THE. TIME. If I had a dime for every stare... the little boy's college education would be paid for. Seriously, have people never seen a pregnant lady before? You guys... I'm tall with red hair so people tend to stare at me anyways because I guess there is something rare about a 6 foot tall woman with red hair. I think it's the combo of the two but I have never really asked any staring strangers yet. Maybe one day haha. But add the fact that my abdomen is rounded and caring a living thing and oh my. ALL EYES ON THE TALL REDHEADED PREGGO! I'm almost used to it now but Patrick is clearly not accustomed to it because every time we are walking somewhere together he comments on how many people are staring...<br />
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... which is fine by me as long as the keep the "big" comments to themselves. Yesterday, on our lunch break Patrick and I went to go get a chocolate chip cookie to split from the cafe in the hospital. The ladies in there sort of know me since I have worked there for 3 years now... and as previously mentioned I don't exactly blend into the crowd well. The lady at the register asked "how many more weeks?" to which I replied "about nine." She made the most horrified look on her face and said, "9 more weeks? are you sure there aren't two in there???" I assured her that there is only one. And in case that wasn't humiliating enough I then put in my order for a large chocolate chip cookie... I couldn't even enjoy it after that "size" comment. People are rude.<br />
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Now, for the story of my shining moment. Back to the who change in physical appearance thing (swelling and pain and whatnot). When it all first started about a month ago I really had a moment... not in a good way. It was one of those moments when you know you are being emotional and borderline irrational but you are crying already so you just roll with it because there is no stopping you now. haha I was laying in bed and my very sweet husband was telling me how pretty I am (this is the part where a normal sane woman says thank you, looks into those perfect blue eyes and then you share a romantic moment or something..... but instead..) and I just start bawling.... and I could see it in his eyes... he knew I was about to have a crazy pregnant lady moment. And I just said, "I don't feel pretty! My feet and ankles are huge and I have to wear grandma compression stockings and my stomach is getting huge and I'm never gonna look the same again and I hurt all the time and I still have 3 months of pain left and it might get worse and wahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!"<br />
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..... that's about how it went down. I don't really know because it was irrational and crazy and I was just rambling.<br />
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And then my dear sweet husband who is a saint... A SAINT I TELL YOU!!!!..... just hugged me while I cried and told me I was beautiful and he loved me and then at some point my crazy hormones calmed down and I think I fell asleep haha.<br />
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So there you have it. My shining moment.<br />
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Pregnancy is the craziest thing I have ever done but I have the best husband in the whole world and I can't imagine a single day of this without him. Mila Kunis recently made a big deal on TV about how husbands shouldn't say that "we" are pregnant because mean don't endure everything we endure as women throughout pregnancy.... oh but they do! Just in a different way and Patrick is going through all of this WITH me. Thank God for that :)<br />
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<br />Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-39348979975544784692014-06-26T14:26:00.001-07:002014-06-26T14:42:43.141-07:00That sweet faceToday at work I asked one of the ultrasound techs to scan me so I could see my sweet boy. They agreed even though we really aren't supposed to do that!!<div><br></div><div>I got to see the sweetest little face! I saw those cute little lips opening and closing. And that nose that is so unmistakably a trait that he gets from his daddy! </div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlkpxGHsTEuX2Y8J822WGhTppwja8oBhbzTxxX4rYkNxtKxXBQGsGjUWWMuCpMO2fBZ9Cbm5mwWhzwl58MBiUx6TkjKVjuJTHffVBKYYXP1l3HnUP_ArwycU1mwJK_UA-clPDqc9ht-Y/s640/blogger-image--265553558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlkpxGHsTEuX2Y8J822WGhTppwja8oBhbzTxxX4rYkNxtKxXBQGsGjUWWMuCpMO2fBZ9Cbm5mwWhzwl58MBiUx6TkjKVjuJTHffVBKYYXP1l3HnUP_ArwycU1mwJK_UA-clPDqc9ht-Y/s640/blogger-image--265553558.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div><div><br></div><div>That little boy was squirming around, sucking his thumb, stretching out his legs, flipping around and well... Not being very cooperative for pictures haha.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm in my third trimester now and it's all starting to feel more and more real. Like.. It's really sinking in now! I cannot wait to meet this little baby boy and hold him and kiss him and love him. </div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTRDbfIPb02cZuBQ_M81xXwm-HECn8GIVTcgwonCIz_Pd3LruFdsRSFIK1E5QQTVg9YSBB3OYZ5tcC167owAk6kfFknbPBHTDlOEcR7dzqoZdp-03UeTTImmbckD9WOBUOBLuVgC-Yi5I/s640/blogger-image-703930705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTRDbfIPb02cZuBQ_M81xXwm-HECn8GIVTcgwonCIz_Pd3LruFdsRSFIK1E5QQTVg9YSBB3OYZ5tcC167owAk6kfFknbPBHTDlOEcR7dzqoZdp-03UeTTImmbckD9WOBUOBLuVgC-Yi5I/s640/blogger-image-703930705.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>Pregnancy is hard but seeing that sweet face makes it feel like it's worth it. </div><div><br></div><div>As a nurse, it drives me crazy when patients call and say they think they have "blank" because they googled it. But I definitely diagnosed myself with something. It's called symphysis pubis dysfunction and it sucks. My OB is probably going to look at me like I need crazy pills when I tell her. Anyways, it's this terrible pain that is concentrated at your pubic bone area and little things like rolling over in bed and getting into a car and putting on a pair of pants really freaking hurts.</div><div><br></div><div>So between that pain (which is also preventing me from exercising right now), the increasing edema at my ankles and the lovely weight gain... I'm not feeling really pretty. And I may or may not have had a hormonal preggo moment last night where I cried in bed staring at my puffy ankles propped up on pillows.... Not important.</div><div><br></div><div>Please don't be too disturbed by the next photo... Just in case feet weren't already kind of disgusting, let's add some fluid overload :) </div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg91iT2qNAgVDs8Yr89kEDpiboNdiBsDgdWC8aj51_p6Uql_0-EJJ4J1rWRxZeOEcVQydRYNLX6NcAxAgbeZb-4EvzT2_ju1vCc1_6yTqo5HIeXjLEOJm4E0InklcBjak5ToNLwx-eBXvk/s640/blogger-image-888566400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg91iT2qNAgVDs8Yr89kEDpiboNdiBsDgdWC8aj51_p6Uql_0-EJJ4J1rWRxZeOEcVQydRYNLX6NcAxAgbeZb-4EvzT2_ju1vCc1_6yTqo5HIeXjLEOJm4E0InklcBjak5ToNLwx-eBXvk/s640/blogger-image-888566400.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>But that face! Aww he is so cute! I supposed I can endure all this and swallow my pride and deal with the pain... If it's for him :)</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09m-xoczoGraRHrz9DIeJCBTBsVdtz6OQXNaC7aAF5QDLgt3N7qPr-WTBHBXdV7j5mWFT2W7naewQoZRqIAiDGs9Zhe2nyR4BOtQPaA5RuHY9ed0x-wotXdVxzhSNrnb5TZcleNYqSUo/s640/blogger-image--705429181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09m-xoczoGraRHrz9DIeJCBTBsVdtz6OQXNaC7aAF5QDLgt3N7qPr-WTBHBXdV7j5mWFT2W7naewQoZRqIAiDGs9Zhe2nyR4BOtQPaA5RuHY9ed0x-wotXdVxzhSNrnb5TZcleNYqSUo/s640/blogger-image--705429181.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-8328438765986708562014-06-09T18:20:00.001-07:002014-06-09T18:20:15.149-07:00It is finished.I have so many emotions: finality, relief, sorrow, peace. How does someone even begin to sort through all of that.<div><br></div><div>Saturday, we had Anna's grave marker placed. After many months, it's done. There is nothing left for me to do. </div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiL99LpacSKXdyz_6LdtfwJvbdnffRNRUOwW80ApH0xLErUJIm_aUmrld708L7-YMPWwaMPzFHtcrRPGYghwcU1CmX1rnxfFQAS30Mvsl0jX1xGD87Wdj8MZzUhDy1KvpVBVb4-teo9aA/s640/blogger-image-1825214996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiL99LpacSKXdyz_6LdtfwJvbdnffRNRUOwW80ApH0xLErUJIm_aUmrld708L7-YMPWwaMPzFHtcrRPGYghwcU1CmX1rnxfFQAS30Mvsl0jX1xGD87Wdj8MZzUhDy1KvpVBVb4-teo9aA/s640/blogger-image-1825214996.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>As relieved as I am, it almost makes me sad. There is nothing left that I will ever do for my daughter. There is nothing else to do. It's over.</div><div><br></div><div>But at the same time that exact same thing makes me so happy. I have done everything for my daughter that I could possibly do. I, in a way, have fulfilled my job as her mother. </div><div><br></div><div>Anna is always going to be my daughter, my first little baby. She will always be part of who we are as a family and my life is better for having the privilege of being her mother. I'm proud of the lives she touched without breathing her first breath. That's my girl.</div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oB-0MRvtYUFoVo98Vf5V2IEd2GYsuay6B8_ioqnPDY8XPcljVyTnyqmAwCseVDaTVGMMAEMxnx3Am_ZyMy0BbZtihDhN0TVAQwOo5lpeGFvzVfKbShGdW7Zf1ygcwE5jM2Pwy3Yaquo/s640/blogger-image-36877815.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oB-0MRvtYUFoVo98Vf5V2IEd2GYsuay6B8_ioqnPDY8XPcljVyTnyqmAwCseVDaTVGMMAEMxnx3Am_ZyMy0BbZtihDhN0TVAQwOo5lpeGFvzVfKbShGdW7Zf1ygcwE5jM2Pwy3Yaquo/s640/blogger-image-36877815.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>Little Anna, watch over us. Especially your little brother, Luke, as we prepare to bring him into this world. I look forward to the day we can all be together again. </div><div><br></div><div>I love you forever.</div><div><br></div><div>- mom </div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-72128479131965338272014-05-14T13:21:00.000-07:002014-05-14T13:28:08.921-07:0022 weeks <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My blogging habits really come and go in waves but maybe I will be better these last 18 weeks of pregnancy with my baby BOY!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrQQ6D07rnM6xOjmuWJPGiLypptBeLvP2IJsFAoNDAThTIRIzWDgCxTWIrpkUkzRWi9PD-Mq5wSMYjB-ShcnWCtg6GpH2PqWMT_sDKd3DjpXGz4aPeVLQ_BU5BOK7sgfD-V8AXEeBq-zM/s1600/IMG_0941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrQQ6D07rnM6xOjmuWJPGiLypptBeLvP2IJsFAoNDAThTIRIzWDgCxTWIrpkUkzRWi9PD-Mq5wSMYjB-ShcnWCtg6GpH2PqWMT_sDKd3DjpXGz4aPeVLQ_BU5BOK7sgfD-V8AXEeBq-zM/s1600/IMG_0941.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was actually about a month or so ago.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few weeks ago we found out this little bundle of joy is a bouncing baby boy and ever since things have really started to feel real... and the ever-growing bump is helping with that too!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsB4M5EmFZkmfqh_M0QrV_oChaYhF3CoS23iv2UE15GIqvO4xLJDVnvg-vYuiFBfkJ4HFp-azJIP6GUV_ojqZKdP3SYM8yQEqexzjcnMrzh1e-pqBDSSwK5Y16I8diz-OZCv66fvjd40/s1600/IMG_0946.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsB4M5EmFZkmfqh_M0QrV_oChaYhF3CoS23iv2UE15GIqvO4xLJDVnvg-vYuiFBfkJ4HFp-azJIP6GUV_ojqZKdP3SYM8yQEqexzjcnMrzh1e-pqBDSSwK5Y16I8diz-OZCv66fvjd40/s1600/IMG_0946.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">20 weeks<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRZ55qzG8gShjPnx02AoGYh9GTrBXmC9oZVRwm3R2vF42F9YfgZa5RGlbKIlxkkRWes2fPpXk1X21gdrEAb1SddDzwgLMrxfoT-7nABxo1KwBAPHtL24hQpO_LSXwHG9p30Pd7mBngrU/s1600/IMG_0952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRZ55qzG8gShjPnx02AoGYh9GTrBXmC9oZVRwm3R2vF42F9YfgZa5RGlbKIlxkkRWes2fPpXk1X21gdrEAb1SddDzwgLMrxfoT-7nABxo1KwBAPHtL24hQpO_LSXwHG9p30Pd7mBngrU/s1600/IMG_0952.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">21 weeks</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK1iwysGwrI5sXDSmP5-6QGxWF_xsJSOL6f2V-hJpze5FophEtyYYsXjdTi0LkT6_Oei3pD0lU8tKFXCUKaB4AUT3NDD7R9IP9RcRQraW8nxQDX7dsXE5uMR8T_nFxuS2lAfyCOvjmyj8/s1600/IMG_0957.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK1iwysGwrI5sXDSmP5-6QGxWF_xsJSOL6f2V-hJpze5FophEtyYYsXjdTi0LkT6_Oei3pD0lU8tKFXCUKaB4AUT3NDD7R9IP9RcRQraW8nxQDX7dsXE5uMR8T_nFxuS2lAfyCOvjmyj8/s1600/IMG_0957.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">22 weeks... today!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I had an OB appointment this morning and I was a little nervous like usual. Every appointment has felt like a milestone to us. The more good news we get, the better we feel. But sitting in the waiting room continues to bring back a flood of emotions from last November. I still can't believe I had Anna 6 months ago today.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well, I can give another sigh of relief! Another good report! Baby boy had a great heart rate in the 140s and my belly was measuring a perfect 22. And after all the weight gain the month before I only gained 1 lb this last month... So I'm on track after all :)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was my last appointment with my OB before she starts rotating me through all the other OBs in the practice. They typically deliver babies for their own patients but if I were to go into labor in the middle of the night the on-call doctor would be the one delivering. So it's kind of nice that I will at least be familiar with each one in case that happens.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Because this was my last appointment with her for a while (like 2 months) I wanted to make sure I asked all the questions that I could conjure up. One of my biggest questions if about delivery. Obviously...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since I have Harrington rods from my Scoliosis surgery I had when I was 15, I cannot have an epidural or a spinal. My only other options as far as pain management with medication is IV fentanyl (or something of that nature) but the problem is that anything I get through an IV could be passed to my baby. I'm not ok with that even in small doses.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Are you getting the picture here? I'm talking about natural childbirth. This is happening.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't think that there is a right or wrong way to do this. If you successfully bring a baby into the world you deserve a trophy or an award or something. It's tough no matter what and I honestly believe that all moms are a special kind of super hero whether they gave birth at home in the tub or surgically by cesarean section. Good job, moms of the world. But can I be real about my fears for a minute?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am mostly empowered by the idea of giving birth without pain meds but I am also freaking terrified. I am going to have to push a human out of my body. How is that not a little scary? Well, I have talked to some people that have done this and I hear great things which makes me feel better. But my doctor made me feel EVEN BETTER today! She told me I should read some book of self hypnosis. Sounds like a bunch of hocus pocus, I know, but it actually just relaxation and meditation methods.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Doctor said that she knows people (medical people even) that have learned it and had success! The methods help you to concentrate and relax at the same time and people say they have a painless delivery... painless! I can do that! My doctor really recommended it and said that while she doesn't normally recommend it she felt I had the kind of focus and determination that it requires. Only problem is that she didn't know the name of the book... Anyone ever heard of it?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am actually getting kind of excited about delivery now! I am feeling empowered and motivated. I can do this :)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I would love to hear about more natural birth stories, I know they are rare in the hospital setting but I like to hear them anyways. I CANNOT wait to meet my little boy! 18 more weeks (maybe less, but hopefully not more) until I get to hold him! I'm already so in love !</span><br />
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<br />Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333670645975200762.post-37264833147614366892014-04-21T12:20:00.000-07:002014-04-21T12:30:27.516-07:00Not the best Catholic blogger...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here we are... the day after Easter. It's Monday, folks. And I didn't write a dang thing about Easter, arguably the most important week in the Church. No reflections. No well thought out analogies. Not even so much as a snap shot of Patrick and I in our Easter Sunday get-ups.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fail.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But this week leading up to Easter was certainly a time of reflections for me. I'm an emotional person (shocking, right!?) and in my younger years (if you wanna call them that) I think I just got so wrapped up in the emotions behind Easter. Like the sad parts. Like Jesus dying. I would watch The Passion and use a box and a half of Puffs + lotion and wonder who in their right mind would not wear waterproof mascara to watch that movie. I dwelt so much on that. Gah... I was so emotional.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But my thoughts and focus this year has been on something different. And I don't know if its a sign of maturity or a results of what this last year has brought to my life... or probably both. But one thing has stuck out to me.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Do you know what I have done for you?"</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yeah, I grew up in the Church so I have heard the same verses my whole life, I know all the songs they play during the Triduum. I got it. I know what Jesus did for me... or at least that has been my reaction for many years.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But the truth is, how can we truly comprehend the gravity of the sacrifice of Jesus? How can we even process with our simple human minds the kind of love that it takes to give yourself completely to save the souls of the unworthy?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Or... Have you ever put yourself in Mary's place? Have you taken the time to meditate on that? Can you imagine yourself as an imperfect human being able to handle that? I can't.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But then I remember a certain conversation I had with God. "God, please don't take my baby away from me, but if it is your will, I will try to find a way to accept that. I will probably be mad at you at first but if you take my baby, please heal my broken heart. But please don't take my baby away from me."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have a feeling since Mary was about as perfect as a human can get that it went down a little more gracefully. But you get the idea.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Do you know what I have done for you?"</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't think my simple mind can really grasp it. But that has been my reflection, or I guess just something I keep going back to. That is deep stuff.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In other news:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pregnancy.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">WE FIND OUT IF WE ARE HAVING A BOY OR GIRL ON WEDNESDAY!!!!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Stay tuned.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh, and the reason we don't have a cute little picture of Patrick and I in our Easter clothes is that I almost passed out like 4 or 5 times in church, had to keep sitting down when everyone else is standing which is super embarrassing, and so I was not in the mood. Aw, the joys of pregnancy!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Happy Easter!!!</span><br />
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Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12853031312385465574noreply@blogger.com0