November 4, 2011: The Birth Story

Have I ever mentioned that Fridays are my favorite day of the week?  Probably not because that isn't particularly relevant to this story, but it's true.  It's Tim's day off, but the older kids are in school, so it ends up being a relatively low-key day for him and I to spend some time together.

Thursday night went just as every other night that week had.  Contractions through the night and then nothing by morning.  So we went through our usual Friday morning flurry of getting kids ready, getting the trash to the street, and Tim & I going separate ways with separate kids.  We met back together at home, and decided to go for a walk to see if we could make something happen.  We walked up to a neighborhood bakery/cafe for a little morning treat.  Tim got a very large cinnamon roll, and I ended up with a smoothie.

That should have been my first indication that something was happening.  I never pass up the opportunity for a leisurely cup of coffee, but after debating very long and hard, I just wasn't feeling the coffee that morning.  So we sat and enjoyed our treats, and then eventually decided to head home.

We were about halfway home when it happened.  I felt a rather large trickle run down my legs.  I doubled over, in an attempt to stop it.  Without thinking, I told Tim, "Either my water just broke, or I'm peeing myself!"  Time: approximately 11:15am.

He, of course, doubled over in laughter, telling me that was the funniest thing I had ever said.  At the time, I forbid him from repeating the story.  Ever.  Every other time my water has broken, I have been in the throws of labor and very in tune to what was happening.  But this time was so confusing because other than the fluid running down my leg, there was nothing happening.  Nothing.

We headed home, and again split ways to pick up different kids from different schools.  By the time we had finished lunch, the contractions had resumed.  This was the first time I had really felt much during the day.  But I had been faked out so many times already that I was still texting some of our very closest friends, making plans for them to head our way for dinner that night.  And at this point, I wasn't feeling like there was much I wanted to eat for lunch.  I think I had an apple.  

I did put Tim on kid duty for the afternoon so I could lay down and get some sleep.  I retreated to the couch for a nap.  Unlike my night time episodes, I was having occasional contractions, but I was able to sleep between them.  I did my best, but then once kids started rousing from their naps, I wasn't getting much sleep.  About 4:00, I started telling Tim we should consider getting in touch with our friends who would be watching our kids while we were in the hospital.  That alerted him enough that he was ready to take the kids right away.  I told him we weren't that desperate yet, but that we should at least give our friends a heads up that it might not be long.

By 5:00, our friend was on the way to pick up our kids.  Which turned into a major blessing, because it sure was a hassle this time to figure out transportation for our kids plus our friend's kids.  And I knew it must be time, because by this time, I was having somewhat of a hard time dealing with contractions and kids.  Sophia asked at one point, "Mom, what are you doing?"  I had no good answer for a 6 year old, nor did I feel the creativity to come up with one.  

I helped load the kids in the car, said my good-byes, and then decided maybe it was time to start paying more attention, so I finally started timing contractions.  I know that sometimes a good hot bath can speed up the ordeal, so I hopped in the tub with my phone/stopwatch nearby.  Only about every 5-6 minutes at that point, and not all of them very intense.  The bath wasn't doing it for me, so once again, I suggested that we should head out for a walk.  Time: shortly after 6pm.

There is a nice little path around a large pond right near our house, so we headed in that direction.  Sure enough, that's what it took.  As we started, I'd have a contraction every few minutes or so.  I'd lean over, hands on my knees, and do my very best to breathe through it.  At one point, a young-ish (I never got a good look for a more accurate guess) skater asked us if we needed any help.  He was ready to call whoever he needed.  Tim made very pathetic jokes that it was just some bad Mexican food I had eaten.  It was at this point that I knew we were getting somewhere because I found no humor in the situation whatsoever, and was less than thrilled with his joke.

We made it maybe a third of the way around the pond before I decided it was time to head home.  Tim had been saying for the last hour that we should go to the hospital, but I protested.  There is nothing worse than being stuck in a hospital bed in the thick of labor.  At this point, though, I knew we were getting closer.  We made our way very slowly home.  We got to the busier street right before our house, and made a break for it when the coast was clear because by now, the contractions were frequent enough that there was the possibility that I might not make it across the street without having one.

Once we got home, I made a quick trip to the bathroom, and then knew that it was time to make our way to the hospital.  By the time we got to the car, the shakes had started.  I think I like that part less than the actual contractions.  It's such a feeling of being out of control.  Your body just shakes and shakes, and you want to control it, but you are anything but in control at this point.  We quickly loaded into the car, and started out for the hospital.  Time: 7:02pm.

The trip to the hospital was not as bad as the last time.  I was very aware of all that was happening, and very aware of the feeling that I couldn't handle much more.  But I was afraid there was so much more to endure.  The contractions were maybe a couple of minutes apart, but they were not on top of each other, so I thought I had a ways to go yet.  By the time we got to the hospital, I didn't know how I was going to make it from the car inside.

But I did.  And we became quite the entourage making our way up to the labor and delivery floor.  They kept pushing for a wheelchair, but I wasn't having it.  I would much rather walk than sit.  We had a nurse escort with us, but she wasn't a labor and delivery nurse, so she didn't know quite what to do with me.  She kept trying to touch me, but I would very emphatically remind her, "DON'T TOUCH!"  I don't know exactly what it is, but touching makes me crazy.  I think it's because I am not in control when someone else reaches out to touch me.  (Now I should clarify that's not on a normal day, just at the final stages of labor!)  As we slowly proceeded down the hall, we passed an actual off-duty L & D nurse who decided maybe she would just join our little party.  I was very grateful she did, because she fended off the other nurse escort who didn't know what to do with me.  There was conversation the whole way, and in spite of being in the heat of the moment, I was not only cognizant, but participating in all of it.

"We don't want you to give birth in the elevator."  

"I don't care where it happens, I just want this baby out."

"You're a really great coach for this."

"He's a really great dad.  That's how/why we're having 4 of them."

"This is my kind of mom, come on in and drop that baby right out."

We went immediately into our room, and by this point, I was begging/screaming/threatening for the epidural.  Get that anesthesiologist in here: STAT!  Time: 7:40ish, but I'm totally guessing at this point.  It couldn't have been before 7:30, but with parking, checking in, and making our way to the room, I'm guessing about 7:40.

Our nurse came in, strapped me to the bed with the fetal monitors (the part that makes me nothing short of CRAZY), opened up the hep lock for an IV, and attempted (unsuccessfully) to draw blood.  She finally got to the part where she checked me.  6 1/2 centimeters.  That was it?  Seriously?  Get the drugs in here NOW.

She left the room.  I almost literally ripped the monitors off my stomach, rolled onto my hands and knees and felt the overwhelming need to push.  IT WAS TIME!!!  Screw the anesthesiologist.   Tim, all in a very strategic attempt to encourage me in the way I needed most, was saying, "It won't be long now.  We're going to get to meet Charlotte any minute!!!"  First time we had called her by name.

The doctor and nurses made a quick appearance, there were a handful of pushes, and there she was!

Charlotte Ruth Nielson

11.04.2011, 8:11pm

7 pounds, 5 ounces

20 inches long

Beautiful.  With a full head of DARK hair.

I ended up loosing quite a bit of blood, and we had to call the doctor back in and I got quite a few more meds, and it made for a fairly scary couple of hours afterwards, but it ended up being short lived, and by the next morning, all was well.

And we were in LOVE!!! 

 

Week 39: CONTRACTIONS!!!

contractions

is this for real?

What a week this turned out to be.  In 3 previous babies and birth stories, I had not experienced anything like this.  Turns out this baby really wanted to keep us on edge.

The week started out with Halloween Day.  As eager as I was to meet this baby, I was very thankful that first off, her birthday did not end up being Halloween, and second, that I was able to enjoy the day with the kids.  I would have been disappointed to miss out on their dressing up and enjoying the festivities.

Sophia was a doctor this year, Noah was a dinosaur, and Phoebe was a little piggy.  They were so sweet in their costumes, it wasn't hard to forget that I was very anxious for this baby to venture into the world.  We took them out to a Trunk or Treat event at their preschool, and then stopped to trick or treat down one street on our way home.  It was the first time that they did the traditional trick or treat experience, and they just kept saying, "I love Halloween.  It's all about CANDY!!"

It turned into a late night for us (big surprise), and so we put the kids to bed in a fog of exhaustion and collapse on the couch.  Not much later, we headed to bed.

Turns out, I didn't stay there long.  If I thought that night last week was a trick, this night was almost miserable.  The contractions started shortly after midnight, and weren't close, but fairly regular, about every twenty minutes.

I spent the first couple of hours trying to sleep in between.  After hours proved this was a futile effort, I got up to finish the last final things I wanted to have done if we would be leaving for the hospital before long.  I switched and folded some laundry, sent some directions to our kids caregivers, made a list of last minute things I would need to grab, threw a few final things into my suitcase.  And then sat on the couch and waited.  And waited.

For nothing.  Contractions slowed...and then stopped.  I crawled back into bed in a heap at about 5 am, for a very quick hour of sleep before it was time to get rolling for the day.

The rest of the week progressed in much the same way.  Contractions during the night, nothing but complete fatigue during the day.

I went in for my appointment that week to hear that I was about 1-2 centimeters dilated and about 50% effaced.  Not quite what I would have hoped for or expected, but progress none the less.

People kept asking me this week what the plan was for next week (meaning once I passed my due date without a baby).  I have yet to have made it to a 40 week appointment, and we hadn't talked about it at all, so I wasn't sure.  There really wasn't a plan.  I was thinking I probably should have asked, but I had just never had the need before.

And that was how week 39 went.  Until Friday.  But that's a story in itself!  :)

Week 38: 24 October, 2011

I had pretty much forgotten what it's like to be at the very end, and then to wake up every day wondering, "Will this be the day?  Are we going to get to meet this baby today?"

I hadn't had many very regular contractions since that night of my last appointment.  I did go in this week, but there was nothing to check and therefore nothing to report at this point.

Wednesday night was the beginning of the little game this little peanut played, just to tease me.  I had to work on Thursday, and so I was making an attempt to get to bed at a reasonable hour on Wednesday night, so that I could be as rested as possible before my o' dark hundred alarm went off in the middle of the night morning to start my work day.

Our sweet and loving little girl had different plans for the night, though.  That was the first night that I was awake through the night with contractions.  They weren't regular enough that I made an attempt to time them (mainly because I was still clinging to hopes of a good night's sleep before work).  After my fair share of labor and delivery stories already, I know that they number one thing they say once contractions start is to get as much rest as possible, because you just don't know how long it will last.  So I kept telling myself this, and was very valiantly waging a losing war with the proverbial sleep sheep.

I have no idea how much/little sleep I got that night.  All I know is that there were several contractions that made me think we'd be headed to the hospital before the day was done, I felt like I didn't sleep much at all, and once the alarm finally did go off, I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed to get ready for work.  And once that happened, the contractions stopped.  So I headed in for a very unproductive day of work.

Week 37: The Home Stretch

After last weeks "scare," I now feel like this baby can come any time and we will be thrilled.  And since I am now at 37 weeks, it literally could be any time.  I am into the "safe" zone, at which I am considered full term, and there would be no stopping labor.  It's funny how that that mental milestone makes me feel so much more prepared and eager.  
But I had totally forgotten the feeling of wondering every day if this is going to be the day.  It's funny to wake up every morning and think, "What's the date?  Will this be my baby's birth day?"

I have decided to do my best to live in the moment, in spite of being anxious to meet this baby.  There isn't a whole lot of time left as a family of 5, and once this little girl arrives, life will most likely be pretty chaotic for awhile.  Who knows what kind of time I will get with my other 3 favorite little people once I am spending a good portion of my time feeding, changing, diapering and soothing a newborn.  So I want to cherish the moments now, and to make the most of our time together.  I want to savor the moments when I feel like I have life under control.  I want to love on and nurture each of my 3 special little people every chance I get.

I am also reminding myself that there is a good chance this might be the last time I am pregnant.  With that in mind, I want to hold on to the good things about it.  I want to enjoy feeling this baby move inside of me.  We all know that's by far the best part of pregnancy anyway, and I know that there will come a time when I will miss it.  Even though it sometimes keeps me from very restful sleep right now, I know that down the road, I will look back and wish I could experience that feeling again.  So I'm trying to savor the moments before they are gone forever.

Now, that's not to say that I am not fully looking forward to gaining full mobility once this baby comes out.  This time, more than any other, that is what I find myself most anticipating about not being pregnant- being able to have full range of motion, so to speak.  Full movement, flexibility, agility, whatever.  I just look forward to feeling "normal" again!

And now that we really truly could have a baby at any time, Tim has finally caught the name fervor.  We have been having more frequent discussions about who is going to win the great name debate.  I am not sure that we are all the way decided yet, but we're finally beginning to make some progress.

Week 36: Ready?

The 36 week mark means the end of my monthly OB appointments.  (After this, we move to two weeks, and then every week for the last couple.)  Since Tim is off work on Fridays, I usually try to schedule my appointments for then so that he can be home with the other kids.  Life is much easier if I don't have to take them into the OB's office with me.  :)
Before this appointment, I took Noah and Phoebe over to the museum across the street with us to spend the morning with some friends from church.  We were there for the better part of the morning, and then we had a picnic lunch at the park.  Usually, we take either the wagon or the stroller and walk on over to the museum.  If I were ever to time it out, I am sure that it would take longer to get everyone loaded in the van, strapped in, drive over to the museum, unbuckled from carseats, and then situated in the stroller than it does to just walk on over.  Well, for the first time in 5 years, I actually contemplated driving to the museum.  As I pulled the wagon full of Noah and Phoebe and a blanket and our lunches and water bottles to the end of the driveway, I found myself questioning if I could even make it across the street!!!

Somehow, I managed to survive the day on my feet.  We made it home just in time for me to gulp a glass of water (in preparation for my regular pee test) and head out the door for my appointment.  The best part of this appointment was a super speedy ultrasound to make sure this baby girl is headed down and out.  They had told me at my last appointment that they would also do an exam this time to see what was happening.  The sonogram revealed that our little girl has "assumed the position" and is just where she needs to be.  But since I said that I hadn't had any contractions that had me "excited," they would skip the exam at this point.  Which was fine with me, since it's all relative anyway.  She'll come whenever she's ready, no matter how ready my body may or may not be at this point.

Funny thing is, after the nurse practitioner left the room at the end of the appointment, I had my first contraction that stopped me in my tracks.  I had to pause for a minute and let it pass before I could gather my things and head out of the exam room.  And actually, then once I got home for the night, I sat down on the couch and realized I was having regular contractions throughout the evening.

Now, as much as I thought I was ready to have a baby and be done being pregnant, this freaked me out.  I wasn't "ready" like I wanted to be.  I still had stuff to get done.  Nothing major, but things like washing the carseat and getting it ready.  Dealing with all the baby stuff in bits and pieces that were scattered throughout the house at this point.  Deciding on a name for this little girl.  Washing some clothes for her to wear.  Making sure I had at least a few diapers on hand so that we wouldn't have to go to the store unless we wanted to.

So the next day dawned, and I found myself in a flurry of activity to take care of all those little loose ends so that I could actually be "ready".  And sure enough, at the end of the day, with the carseat assembled and ready, the clothes washed, diapers in hand, I felt so much better.  And "ready."

Now, if only we could agree on a name...

Week 35: "Poor Boy"

It's kind of ironic how at this point in time, my posts seem to write themselves in the sense that each week, I seem to find a very common theme to many of my conversations.  A couple weeks ago, it was the "when are you due?" question.  Last week, it was the "what are you going to name her?" question.

This week, it seems to be the "Poor Boy" theme.  The conversations about whether we are having another boy or girl have become very predictable.

"What are you having?"

"Another girl."

"And what do you have at home?"

"Girl, boy, girl."

"Oh, poor boy."

"BUT, he'll sure know how to treat a woman someday!!!"

That's become my canned response to this overplayed conversation.  After all, I have found that a boy who grows up surrounded by girls is actually a pretty rare gem.  So much so that I married one!

Week 34: The Name Game

At this point our biggest issue is agreeing on a name.  Which is clearly a problem for us.  If we were in agreement, we would have a name by now.  This is the first time I remember this happening, but I have one idea and Tim has another.
Every time I bring up the topic, in an effort to bring us to some kind of agreement, our discussion goes something like this:

Me: "So, what are we going to name this baby?"
Tim: "I don't know.  What do you think?"

And that sums it up pretty well.  That's as far as we ever get.

But every time I turn around, someone is asking me what her name is.  I have no answer.  Still.  I'm ready to have it decided.  I feel like part of the reason to find out the gender ahead of time is so that we could name our baby and so I could start thinking of her by name.

Tim suggested at some point over the summer that he might be bribed to agree to my name.  He's mentioned a few times that I have come up with no proper bribe to put this debate to rest.  But the problem with that is that I don't want to come to an agreement because I offered to do all the dishes for the remainder of time.  I want to be in agreement because we've decided whatever we name our daughter is truly the best name for her.  We're just not there.  Yet.   I keep trying for it.

On the other hand, it is nice to have a truthful way to deflect the "What is her name?" question, as I wouldn't answer it even if we did have a name decided.  There's gotta be some kind of surprise once she's born.  And it's just a lot easier to say that we haven't decided than it is to say that I'm not telling.

This weekend was the high schoolers fall retreat.  Once again, we weren't sure until the very last minute that me and the kids would be able to go, but thankfully it worked out for all of us to be there.  In fact, because of the vehicle situations and timing, Tim was even able to ride with us both ways!  What a special treat!  Especially since that meant that he was available to help unload and then reload all of our crap gear for the weekend!  What a blessing.

All of us had a great weekend with the high school kids, but I sure was glad we only had a weekend's worth of being at camp this time.  I don't think I could have handled much more of hauling my crew all over camp this time.  All of the buildings at camp are in relatively close proximity to each other, especially in comparison to the camp we were at in California, but it still felt like a major ordeal for me to carry anyone anywhere this time.  I was so thankful once again to have brought the stroller.  And believe me, I used it whenever possible this weekend.

This week was also Tim and I's tenth anniversary.  That's a big one!!!  We had always dreamed of taking some kind of celebratory vacation.  But, with being so close to having this baby, combined with the fact that we are still desperate to find someone to watch our kids while we are in the hospital, we decided we would have to hold off on that dream.  I'm trying not to dwell on it too much, but I can't lie about the fact that I am sad that it won't work.  Instead, we spent one night in a hotel on the north side of Denver.  Which was still great to get away.  But just doesn't compare to a week in Hawaii or some other tropical destination.

Week 33: How many more weeks?

A typical conversation in my life these days (maybe every conversation in my life these days) goes something like this:

"How's it going?"
"Great!  How are you?  When are you due?"

And every time I answer, it feels like an eternity away.  November 7th.  That's seven weeks still.  It feels like a lifetime.

As I was picking up Sophia at school one day this week, one of the other moms said, "You still haven't had that baby yet?"

To which I obviously responded, "No, not for awhile yet."  With a totally fake, polite chuckle.

To which she said, "You must have what, like 3 weeks left?"

To which I inwardly groaned.  And continued the fake smile.  And said, "No, a few more than that."

Even though I FELT like I must have looked, based on the track this conversation was on.  But I am looking forward to the conversations of this nature coming to an end!

Week 32: Sept. 12

32 weeks.  That means 8 weeks left.  7 months.  November seems so. far. away.  I remember thinking back at the 6 month mark that once I got to this point, it would all seem downhill from here.  Wrong.  It doesn't seem so downhill at this point.  Two months has never felt so long in my entire life.  I don't ever remember this last part of pregnancy seeming so long...

Tim's work, our church, hosted yet another shower for us this week.  That blows my mind!  How many people are blessed enough to say that every one of their baby's has had a shower in their honor- all the way through their fourth?  And knowing that we are having another girl this time, there is not much we need.  We're pretty set on clothes, now that we've had a girl in both seasonal extremes.  After the shower, I sat down to write thank you cards for all the gifts and felt so humbled that there was just no way for me to convey how amazing I think it is that they would do that for us and for this new little one.

Can you guess what the gifts were, and what the gift cards were used for?  Diapers and more diapers!

In going through our things, though, I have had a new realization that's made me chuckle.  We have been through so much baby STUFF that there are a few things that could use round two.  A bouncy seat that no longer vibrates.  A front carrier that was a lesser, cheaper off brand to start with that now has a broken buckle.  A second changing pad would be good, since we'll have two in diapers once again.  But who wants to buy this stuff for a fourth baby?  So I've begun a mission to find people who would be kind enough to loan us a few of these items.

I've also been hearing all about Ergos lately.  It seems that Bjorns are a thing of the past, and Ergos are the new latest greatest things in front carriers.  So I find myself trying to justify getting my hands on yet another piece of baby gear, that we really probably don't need, but I sure would like to try out.   

Week 31: Labor Day

We had some friends over for Labor Day this week.  The plan was to have dinner and then walk to a neighborhood yogurt bar for dessert.  The place is probably just under a mile a way, a walk that we've made plenty of times.  The older kids are even getting to the point where they either walk along with us or ride their bikes.  We walked to the same place on Memorial Day with a couple of friends and have done so a handful of times over the course of the summer.

Except this time, I thought it was going to be the death of me!  It felt so far away!  And amongst our herd of 4 adults and 5 kids six and under, I am fairly certain that I was the slowest one in the bunch.  I was trying to disguise it, but I was struggling to keep up.

And I knew the adventure was going to haunt me for the remainder of the night and into the next day.  It was going to make it a difficult night's sleep for me.'

But not wanting to be one to give up or give in, I laced up the shoes and trouped out the door with the rest of the crew.  All in anticipation of frozen yogurt with any and every topping you could imagine.  Including sour apple flavored gummy army guys. 

Except the yogurt place was closed for the day in honor of Labor Day.  No joke!

Week 30: 29 August, 2011

Kids say the darndest things.

For real.

There is a high school girl in our group, a freshmen, whose mom just had a baby this summer.  Some of the other girls at church were asking me how far along I was, and I told them seven months.  This normally kind freshmen said, "You're way bigger than my mom was at seven months."  After floundering for just a moment or two, I responded somewhere along the lines of, "Wow, really...and by the way, just so you know for the future, it's never nice to tell a pregnant lady how big she is.  You might want to remember that for when you reach adulthood."  Someone's gotta teach 'em, right?

On my one day of work this week, I had a first grade girl take note of the coffee cup I was carrying.  Her observation was obvious when she said, "Are you even supposed to drink coffee when you're pregnant?"  Again, I disguising my baffled expresion just enough to answer, "It's decaf."

Geez, Louise!  Since when do I need to worry about six year olds passing judgment on my health while pregnant!

It has taken 4 pregnancies to get to this point, but here, now in the fourth, Tim has been granted a whole new meaning to nesting!  I had been suggesting for some time that I wanted to rearrange our downstairs family room area.  He had finally gotten on board with my layout for the room.  And then taken it to a whole new level.  He decided that if we were going to go to the trouble of rearranging, he wanted new furniture to replace some of the freebies we had been using since we first got married.  It started with just one piece but then turned into a couple.

So we unexpectedly spent the weekend furniture shopping.  Thankfully, we decide some things better than others, and we made our decisions relatively quickly.  Now it's just a matter of waiting for the stuff to be delivered, so we can finish the rearrangements and restore some peace and order to our basement.

I'll take what I can get; it may not have been baby preparation stuff, but any time he gets the bug to organize, I'll jump on the opportunity!

Week 29: 22 August, 2011

*Sophia in Kindergarten
*People's comments about size: OLD

Not much to report on this week.  Sophia has officially started kindergarten.  Which doesn't have much to do with being pregnant, although I have come to the conclusion that in my very humble opinion, her school does not seem to have the best pick up procedure in town.

Each day, when I pick her up promptly (ish) at 11:55, I park as close as I can and haul both my growing baby belly and my current baby of the family, all the while towing a curious preschooler along side us all the way from the street, through the school's parking lot, across the playground and up to the outside door of Sophia's classroom.  Not an easy jaunt for me in this state.  If we're running late, I'm in trouble deep because there really is no way for me to get there quickly.

And that makes me flash ahead to winter when I am no longer pregnant, but instead towing a preschooler, a toddler, and a newborn to make that trek.  (Did I mention it will be winter?)  Not sure which scenario is worse!  It's these minor details that make me think this year will be a little chaotic and complicated.

I have also officially gotten over people's comments about my size.  I mean really, why does a person ever think those comments are OK?  Keep your mouth shut, people.  I'm sure it's not twins.  I probably am getting bigger by the day.  I have almost three months left.  Leave me alone!  And I mean that in the most respectful way!  :) 

Week 28: 15 August, 2011

Let's also dub this week "The Week Of Babies!"  Three new little arrivals this week.  Wow, has it been fun to meet and hold the little ones.  But let's be honest.  As excited as I am for each one of them, as I've held each one, I've really been thinking ahead to November and looking forward to holding OUR new little one.  For real.  I can't wait!

It's been kinda fun to have each of these babies born just as I've entered the third trimester.  Just as I was beginning to look in the mirror and wonder HOW was I ever going to survive 3 more months, holding these three little ones has given me hope that there is light at the end of the tunnel.  That's obvious to anyone who isn't pregnant, but sometimes, as your body's growing, you just feel like there is no way you can endure any more.  Especially this fourth time around.

In celebration of each of our friends' babies, I've done some shopping this week.  Ok, again, let's be honest.  I have shopped for friends.  But I have also simultaneously shopped for a new little Nielson girl. Back in debating if we were going to find out the gender of this baby, one of the things I thought was that maybe, just for once, it would be fun to do some shopping ahead of time and have a few new things ready for this baby.  And then we found out we were having a girl.  And I decided that I couldn't justify shopping, seeing as how we already have plenty of things for little girls.  And then I decided new life in itself justifies shopping.  This little girl deserves at least a few things of her very own!  So I've also picked up just a few new little girl items. 

And as I have been shopping, I've succumbed to the fact that maybe I am more girly than I like to admit. For I have discovered that it has been therapeutic.  As I've been browsing clearance racks for right size/right season rock bottom sales for a new little baby girl, I've been dreaming and imagining and wondering what this little girl will be like?  Will she have hair?  How big will she be?  Will she be a good sleeper?  What color will her eyes be?

For the first time in this pregnancy, I've started thinking beyond pregnancy to baby.  Whoa, here we are at third trimester, and I haven't even REALLY thought about having a baby in the house again.  And yes, I'm super excited.  (But yes, I am also thinking it's maybe a good thing that I haven't spent too much time thinking about it, because the thought of four kids in 6 years maybe would have scared me a bit!)  But starting to dream about this baby is really what has maybe shed light on the end of this tunnel of pregnancy.

I went straight from meeting the second baby arrival of this week to the doctor's office for my 28 week appointment.  You know, the one with the dreaded orange stuff.  Except this time, it wasn't orange.  It was clear.  And tasted mostly like really sweet Sprite.  It really wasn't too bad.  I'm crossing my fingers and hoping it was good to me and doesn't reveal any hidden surprises (ie: gestational diabetes).

Usually, while you wait the hour after you drink the stuff to have your blood drawn, they make you watch these scary videos on preterm labor and postpartum depression.  I guess since it's my fourth time around, they figure I'm an expert, and didn't make me waste the time.  Instead, I spent the hour finishing a book that I was actually very much enjoying reading without feeling guilty that I wasn't doing something else.

After I donated vials of blood for the all so noble purpose of lab testing, I headed back up to the OB department for my rhogam shot.  Lucky for me, I got the nurse who insisted on giving the shot in the butt.  I have learned that it can be done just as easily in my arm.  Even after I complained, she persisted in making me bare my booty for her.  (Before Noah was born, they poked me in the arse.  Afterwards, they did it in my arm.  Lesson learned.  When it was time with Phoebe, I graciously asked for my arm instead, and my wish was granted.  No big deal.)  Seriously, she tried to convince me it was because it was easier.  Easier for who?  When I tried to tell her my last couple had been done in my arm, she told me she could do that only if I was much bigger.  I have never been known to give up easily, and I wanted to tell her that the last time I had one in my arm, the nurse commented on the size of my biceps and how it was plenty easy to give me the shot there.  No lie.  I told her it was from carrying around little kids all the time.

The sure sign that I am exceptionally hormonal during this pregnancy was my over reaction to the whole situation.  I was irrationally angry that this nurse insisted on making me pull down my pants for her.  Ya win some and ya lose some, and I guess I it was clear that I lost that one!

Week 27: 08 August, 2011

Three months left.  If I'm truly honest at this point, I am not sure how I'm going to make three more months.  Even the simplest things sometimes seem so complicated these days.  We went to a family festival-ish event this weekend, and the simple walk from the parking lot to the event about did me in. You know it's bad when my three kids (including the one who's just beginning to walk), are flying past me and I'm bringing up the rear.  Waddling.  Holding my belly.  Hoping to somehow make it to the car before I fall apart!!!

I've all but given up exercise at this point.  Ok, I keep trying to delude myself into believing I can still do it, but really every attempt ends in defeat.  Which absolutely baffles me and causes me to be more sympathetic.  I always exercised all the way to the end of pregnancy, but this time around, that just doesn't seem possible.  I've always poo-poo'd walking as a form of exercise.  But a simple walk across a parking lot right now makes me feel like I might have a baby sooner than I expect.  It's so different than any of my other pregnancies that I don't even know how to explain it.

I've been thinking about the Duggars.  A lot.  I mean how on earth does a body have 19!!! babies?  I just can't fathom it.  I am feeling like this is about the extent of what my body can handle.  I absolutely CAN NOT comprehend doing this 15 more times.  How does your body hold the 19th one in there?

Thinking big picture, I've probably done less sitting on the couch during the course of this pregnancy than any of the others.  As I learned during jury duty, I just don't lead a sedentary lifestyle.  Not because I'm boasting about how active I am, but because 3 kids 5 and under just doesn't allow for that.  And probably because of that very truth, this is the pregnancy in which I have felt the NEED to just sit on the couch and put my feet up more than anything.

I started back to work this week.  (I use the word "work" loosely, as I only work one day a week.) Apparently most of the people I work with didn't know I was expecting.  I had a brief "conversation" with a co-worker.  It was so brief, in fact, that it probably took me longer to review it and make sure I was interpreting it correctly than the actual conversation itself.

In passing on the stairs, my co-worker says, "Oh.  Going for number 4, hunh?"
Thinking quickly: what is she talking about,  baby,  oh yeah.  Respond: "Yup."
"Wow."

Reading this replay does NOT do it justice.  If only I could convey the tone behind that, "Wow."  It was not really a "wow" response.  Really, it said, "You're crazy.  That's crazy.  What are you thinking? You're nuts."  Maybe even "You're stupid."

All that in those 3 simple letters.  I wrote early on about the various reactions we were getting in telling people that we were once again expecting.  This one, although much later, by far takes the cake in my book.  It was the outright rudest response I've gotten.  I may be crazy, but I am not stupid.  I just love kids.  And love being a mom.  And can't imagine a house that isn't full of little bodies and all the chaos they bring.  Bring. It. On.

Week 26: On the Road Again...Again

Week 26.  Can you guess where the first day of week 26 began?  Yes, folks, if you guessed the car, you'd be right once again!  I mean, why stay home if you have a mini-van with a DVD player and AC and can travel, right?

But this trip seemed so much easier than any of the others.  It was only a 3 1/2 hour drive, and we would be spending a few days on the lake with Tim and a bunch of high schoolers.  Packing was easy; shorts, Tshirts, sandals, swimsuits, and towels for everyone and we were good to go!  After all the packing I have done this summer, I think this trip's packing time might have totaled 30 minutes.  As my kids would say, "Easy Peasy!"

The only thing that was different about this trip was that I was driving solo (as in solo adult) with the 3 kids.  I think that might have been my first road trip with the 3 of them by myself.  Turns out it was a lot of fun.  Except for the part where I picked the last Starbucks in the metropolitan area to stop. Which turned out to be several miles off the interstate, with no drive through, so that when I finally found the needle in the haystack, I didn't even come away with the much anticipated "needle" because the kids had all already fallen asleep and I couldn't leave them in the car for a cup of coffee.  No matter how needed it seemed.  (And before you cast judgement, even if it seemed needed, it was still just a cup of decaf I was after!)

And let me tell you, there is not one single Starbucks between Brighton, CO and Ogalalla, NE.  Not one.  I was doubtful, but I tried to keep my hopes up.  Lesson learned.

Other than that, the few days at the lake were spectacular.  We had a great few days of family bonding- minus Tim!  Me and the kids all stayed in one small mobile home.  It had one bedroom, with bunk beds and a queen bed and just about a foot of walk space between the two.  This is where Sophia, Noah and I slept.  Phoebe slept in the super small living room, in her pack n play, behind the couch! Amazingly enough, it worked out well.  And after preparing food for all the high schoolers, I even got a chance to kick back and watch some cable TV at the end of the days!  (After Phoebe would fall asleep, I'd veg out on the couch in front of her watching Food Network.  Somehow, she would sleep through it all.)

I earned my keep during the days by cooking for the high schoolers.  It worked out fairly well in that Sophia & Noah were actually able to ride the boat while I was prepping the meals.  Phoebe would stay with me and scrounge scraps while I cooked.  This wasn't entirely planned, but it worked out well so that I felt like I was doing more than just tagging along on this trip.  

I was so thankful to be with Tim, in any fashion at all, and see what the "Lake Trip" experience was all about.  Although I never left the shore of the lake.  And since the water was ridiculously high, and the beach was taken over by trees, I never even got a good view of the lake.  Tim laughed when we got home and I asked, "How was the lake?"

As I've said previously, I've never been one to use pregnancy as an excuse to slow me down.  But with as choppy as the water was reported to be, and as bumpy as the boat rides supposedly were, I never stepped foot on the boat.  No boating, tubing, skiing, or anything "fun" for me this time.  And I learned something that kinda surprised me.  I really enjoy boating and water sports more than I knew.  I was truly disappointed to have missed out.  I've only started water skiing in the last few years and since I only get the opportunity once or twice a year, I didn't realize how much I've come to look forward to it.

Although, I felt especially reaffirmed in the wisdom of the decision to stay off the water when one friend told me that is how she found herself on bedrest for 3 months with her fourth son!  Yikes.  I have no idea how we would survive if I were put on bedrest.

Again, though, I felt like this trip took a toll on my body.  Hiking back and forth all over the campground, from the beach, to our cabin, to the main house where all the food was, pushing the stroller the whole uphill way, I got my workouts in.  Not to mention standing on my feet for hours boiling countless cauldrons of spaghetti noodles and grilling brats over our fire of Hades grill.  The meals weren't complicated, but cooking for many teenage boys who have been in the sun and on the water all day long requires Costco to the millionth degree size portions of everything!  When I was lucky, there were crumbs left for me at the end of the meal!

All in all, it was one of my favorite trips of the summer, and I was so glad it worked out for us to go.  And I was so glad to be home at the end of it!  With no more traveling in our foreseeable future!

week 25: Heading home

The beginning of week 25 found us where else, but in the car once again?  This time we were winding up our time with family in the Midwest and heading home.  We broke up our nearly 1,000 mile return trip from Minneapolis to Denver with one final stop in South Dakota to spend one more day with the in-laws, and then drove from Sioux Falls home in one final stretch of travel.

We arrived home somewhere around 3:00 am, in the middle of Tuesday/Wednesday night.  Just in time to jump right into the remainder of the week.  Tim headed out to work on Wednesday morning.  I tackled the mountains of suitcases that turned into mountains of laundry.

It was SO good to be home.  It might be hot here, too, but at least it wasn't so humid.

I love our annual summer trips to the Midwest, but I am SO thankful to be home.  I must say that the traveling was much harder on my body than it ever has been, and I feel large, hot, and tired.  That about sums it up.  And I have a long way to go.

Week 24: On the Road Again (7/18/2011)

After two very quick weeks at home, we found ourselves loading up the car one more time.  Although we most definitely enjoyed our time while the kids were at Grandma & Grandpa's house, we were ready to see them again.  So...we got back in the car and headed east for a family reunion of sorts.

Yet another ten long hours of riding in the car.  Maybe I should explain that I usually LOVE road trips.  I love the uninterrupted family time.  When else do my husband and I get to spend that long together, confined to such close quarters?  It's a true indication of how this pregnancy is affecting me to realize that not only am I not excited about road tripping this summer, but I am mostly dreading it.

Our time in the Midwest was just in time for record breaking temperatures and heat indexes.  Not only was it H-O-T, but it was HUMID!!!!  Consequently, this was the first time in my life that I found myself wanting to use pregnancy as an excuse to do nothing but sit on the couch in the air conditioning.  I've never really been one to slow down much because of pregnancy, but I sure wanted to this week.  I found myself drawn to shade like a moth to light.  And I would have been more than happy to park my rear end there to stay for hours at a time.  If my kids would have allowed for it, anyway!  Which, needless to say, is like blowing kisses in the wind.

So I chased after little ones and carried on as usual.  And took advantage of every moment I could in the air conditioning!

It was so great to have our kids back again.  And so great to see family that we don't get to see very often.  And to be away from our normal daily routine.  But, I would dare to say this week was my hardest week of pregnancy.  Between the heat and the back pain, I most certainly found myself counting down the days until November 7th.

week 23: Hanging with Hubs

This week was a first for us.  Ever.  Tim and I found ourselves in a situation we hadn't been in- ever.  Or at least for 6 years, depending on how you look at it.

My sweet in-laws, who obviously love our kids to pieces, were chomping at the bit to spend some time with the kids this summer.  So all 3 kids got to spend almost a week at "Grandma and Grandpa Camp" at the farm in South Dakota.

This meant two things:
1.) After less than a week at home, we loaded up all the kids and gear and headed out on yet another road trip.  Again.  I was less than thrilled at the prospect of another 10 hours in the car.
2.) More importantly, Tim and I had almost a week at home with just the two of us.  In our own house.  On our own schedules.  With nothing to do but what WE wanted!  All the while knowing our kids would not only be in good hands, but they would most likely be having the time of their lives without us!  (Many times we teased them that we had changed our minds and were going to stay in South Dakota with them.  This was ALWAYS met with moans and groans and clear indication that we were not welcome during this time.)  This clearly made 10 hours in the car not only worthwhile, but ~almost~ exciting!

To say that we felt pressured to capitalize on these 5 days would be an understatement.  It was such a tough balance to squeeze it all in.  We definitely wanted to "play" and be together, but at the same time, we had a handful of things we would be much better off accomplishing without kids underfoot.  All to be worked around Tim's usual schedule, of course, including Wednesday night youth group for both of us, Sunday church activities, etc., etc.  (Also sadly enough, we had multiple funerals and memorial services to attend in that short time, too.)

Since over half of our time was already scheduled, on our way back after dropping the kids off, we literally made dual lists: a fun list and a work list.  We didn't want to forget anything.  Our goal was to maximize our time to the fullest.

Our most daunting item on our list was to begin converting our guest room to what would become Sophia & Phoebe's new room.  It's a cave of a room downstairs with old school, dark wood paneling halfway around the room.  We spent a fair amount of our free time painting that room a tan and light pink.  Maybe not the top choice for either of us, but at the same time, it would have been nearly impossible and would have taken probably 5 times as long with all the kids in the house.  Thankfully, we were able to mostly finish the room in the time the kids were gone.

Our fun items included date night, use of a gift card to a local seafood restaurant, a movie night, a hike, golf for Tim, and a couple of dinners with friends.  We had also intended to play tennis, and baseball for Tim, but it rained some monsoons in that week, making both of those activities impossible.

Between the painting and the hiking, my body was again feeling like it was taking a beating, and I made my second trip back to the chiropractor.

They all say, and I have well learned by this point that each pregnancy is different.  I am wondering what on earth it is about this one that is making it so much harder on my body?  I am doing my best to not complain about it, but the honest to goodness truth is that I am frequently finding myself wondering how on earth I can make it through the next several months.

Week 22: Home again

Something happened in the time we were in California.  Not sure exactly what, but I definitely came home different than before we left.  At the end of June, when we left Colorado, I was quite obviously pregnant.  But I still hadn't really taken out any of my maternity clothes.  I was intentionally holding off as long as I could because I knew how I would come to loathe those clothes by the end of November.  Ironically enough, this is the longest I've ever held out in "normal" clothes.

But we got home at the beginning of July, and all of a sudden, I felt...well, pregnant!!!  I felt big.  I looked bigger than before I left.  Several people made the dreaded comment, "You've popped!"  Clothes that I wore right before we left were definitely not going to fit any more.  It was time to pack them away.  (Which was actually very ironic because I had that very debate with myself before we left.  I agonized more about packing for this trip than I ever had.  If I packed my regular clothes that I had been wearing, would they still fit me by the time the trip was done?  But at the same time, I didn't want to fill a suitcase with maternity clothes that were still much too big and would therefore make me look like a house.)

And my body had taken a beating at camp.  Between the long walks all over camp to get from place to place, maybe also my early morning runs didn't help much, and repeatedly clamoring in and out of a monstrous 15 passenger van, not to mention hefting and heaving other small children in and out of the same van, for several days on end, I was feeling older and less limber than ever!

The day after camp, I headed out to my much neglected gardens, and attempted to pull weeds.  After just a few short minutes, I found myself "stuck."  It didn't matter which direction I moved, it was going to hurt.  A lot.  And I don't like to talk about any of my physical discomforts very much; it makes me pretty uncomfortable.  But I knew I was in trouble.

And, I'm barely past halfway through this pregnancy.  With the way I was feeling that afternoon in the middle of my gardens, I was truly baffled at how I was going to make it through the next 4 months.  So my super sweet and very concerned husband (who was maybe wondering how he was going to be fed, and who was going to wash his clothes, not to mention take care of his other 3 children) scheduled my first ever appointment with a chiropractor.

Thank goodness.  I am not sure that I could have made it through the upcoming months without some adjusting!  Less than coincidentally, the chiropractor he chose is a maternity specialist, and supposedly caters to pregnant women.  (Although, in thinking about it, in all the time I've spent in his office since my first visit, I haven't yet seen another pregnant woman come in or out!)  Anyway, because of that, he offers a flat fee that covers as many adjustments as you want/need during your 3rd trimester.  I have a feeling that with the way this pregnancy is going, that will come in handy before long!

Week 21: CA bound

I know a lot of people think I'm kinda crazy, but the truth is that no matter what, I would much rather pack up our whole crazy family and join Tim in any kind of adventure than stay home and single parent without him.  Even if it means traveling across the country to California in a 15 passenger van with all three of our kids and a bunch of high schoolers for 8 days at camp.  Okay, let's be honest, I say that people think I'm crazy because that sounds crazy even to me!

In any case, that's exactly what we did.  We drove for two days, with Tim in the driver's seat, Phoebe in the seat right behind him, me in the row behind her, and Sophia and Noah right next to each other in the row behind me.  Our other driver opted to ride shotgun with Tim.  Who could blame him?  The down side of that, though, was that for thousands of miles across the country, I didn't have a single conversation with my husband!!!  Even though he was in the same car, just a few feet in front of me!!!  Instead, I found myself situated perfectly between kids, "trip bags" full of goodies and entertainment, snacks, drinks, blankies, pillows, carseats, kids and chaos.

Thankfully, because we live far enough away from family that we find ourselves on the road frequently, our two oldest kids are already great road trippers, and you wouldn't be able to believe that there wasn't really a complaint between them.  (Other than the fact that Sophia would occassionally tell me that her bottom was sore!  Mine too, kid, mine too.)  For Phoebe, this was the first road trip that she was old enough to realize that she had been confined to her carseat for nearly two days straight.  She didn't sleep much the first day, but other than that, she did alright.

Our final destination was a camp in a small California town about 65 miles mostly north and slightly west of LA.  We were there to serve for the week, in whatever capacity we were called to.  This happens to be the very same camp that I worked at for several summers during college.  I was SO excited to be back and even more excited to show my kids what it was all about.  They, of course, are much too young to understand my emotional attachment to the place, but it was fun to have them there nonetheless.

The camp has grown significantly since the time I was there.  It's WAY more spread out than it used to be.  This, of course, means more walking.  I am SO thankful we squeezed the stroller in with all our other cargo, because there is no way I would have survived the week without it.  It felt like I was hauling kids back and forth all day long as it was; I can't really fathom that I would have made it without being able to load two of them into the stroller for our treks.  I'll be honest and admit that I move at about a snail's pace (or less) these days, but still, it would take me a good twenty minutes to migrate from one end of camp to the other.  Good thing no one was depending on my speed and promptness!!  It certainly made me miss my younger, more agile days of working at camp!

We spent the week at camp, helping in all kinds of different ways, and then when camp closed up on Friday afternoon, the majority of our group headed to 6 Flags Magic Mountain for an evening full of roller coasters and adrenaline.  Have I mentioned that my favorite roller coaster in the world is at Magic Mountain?  And have I mentioned that I love amusement parks?  And that I haven't been to one in more years than I can count?  Oh, it was torturous to send the rest of the group off and settle for an evening of In n Out Burger and Cars 2 in 3d with my family.  Don't get me wrong.  Under "normal" circumstances that sounds like a nearly perfect family night of entertainment for me.  But when all the high schoolers came back oohing and aahing over the new rides at Magic Mountain, I was definitely feeling like this baby better be appreciating the sacrifices I was making for her.  Cause that felt like a big one!  :)

The next day, we headed into Long Beach for a day on the beach before we loaded back up in our vans to journey home.  Just exactly where a pregnant lady wants to hang out, right?  The beach?  In a swimsuit?  Ha!!  It's all right; I was highly distracted by the excitement of taking our kids to the ocean for the first time.  I ~barely~ thought about feeling like a beached whale.

After one last night in California, we once again loaded into our vans for the two day drive home.  All in all, it was a great trip.  I was SO thankful to have had the opportunity to join the group, and be a part of the experience.  My body was SO thankful to be home and done with the 15 passenger van and sitting on my rear end for days on end!

Week 20: Ultrasound

Whew, I don't even know where to start with this one, I don't think.  It's a long and complicated story that ends with the knowledge that this might possibly be the last pregnancy for me.  Four has almost always been our number, and God has blessed us four times over, and well, that might be the end of these kinds of blessings for us.  Maybe.

So knowing that we might not have this choice to make again, we decided that maybe we should consider finding out our baby's gender at our ultrasound this time.  We've always waited until birth and we've always loved waiting until birth.  But maybe we should see what the grass is like on the other side of the fence.  It might be fun to have that experience at least once, right?

I've always felt like it might make the second half of pregnancy seem really long if we already knew that information and were just waiting for this baby boy or girl to make an appearance.  That's been my main holdout for not finding out.  Plus, if I'm really honest, I'll admit that I'm kinda proud of not having to know right away.  We're kind of an oddity in this day and age of everyone finding out the gender, and we like it that way.  It totally goes against the grain of my planning, Type A personality, and I like it that way.  So I figured it would take a certain amount of pride swallowing to actually find out ahead of time.

We also argued that it might be good to prepare Noah if he is getting another sister and not a brother.  But if we were deep down honest, we would really be preparing ourselves.  Don't get me wrong; we obviously love our girls to pieces like we never knew was possible.  But it would be so great for Noah to have a brother.

Some things have come up that have really made me analyze why I feel so passionate about that, so I've spent some considerable time thinking it through.  The reasons are many.  First and foremost, I see the relationship my own brothers have with each other, and I would love for Noah to have that experience.  Secondly, since I grew up in a house of boys, I feel much more comfortable at football games than teaching my daughters how to put on make-up.  And throughout this summer, I've had multiple chances to see how Noah interacts and plays so differently when he plays with other boys his age.  Let me be clear: Noah and Sophia are the best of friends.  But they play so differently than Noah plays with boys.  When Noah and Sophia play together, they might be playing house...with Noah in a dress.  But when Noah plays with boys, he wants to wrestle, and hit baseballs and do all things that mean boy.  It would be great to have another little boy in the house who would want to do those same things with him.

So at the heart of it, to find out that we are having another girl, who may be our last little blessing, can potentially mean the loss of that picture of what our family will look like, and reshifting our picture to include lots of dresses, and wedding expenses, and drama.  :)  And so that would take some mental adjusting for both Tim and I.

And even still a day or two before our ultrasound, we were still not fully decided about what we were going to do.  I polled people I know who have done it both ways, hoping someone would give me some insight that I hadn't previously thought about that might just finally sway my opinions one way or the other.  By this point, I think I have maybe heard all of the arguments on both sides.  Nothing new came up.

So...after much agonizing, we decided we'd find out.  I had a pretty strong sense that we're having another girl, but why not confirm that information?  And...

It's a...

GIRL!

I told you I had a pretty strong sense!  

I think that after we left, the tech must have thought we were a little nuts.  We took all the kids with us to the ultrasound, and left without hardly a reaction amongst us!  The little peanut (who was so sweetly sucking HER thumb through most of the experience) didn't want to be very cooperative.  This was the first time I've done this, but the tech actually had me use the restroom in the middle to hopefully get our baby to move enough to show us who s/he is!  Finally, she did move to just the right spot, and our technician confirmed that we are indeed having our third girl, complete with the black and white picture labeled "girl parts."  

I think I said, "I told you."  To which Tim replied, "You were right."

And I think that was about all we said!  Even the kids were pretty much unphased.  Noah almost least of all!

We're still adjusting to the idea of a house almost full of girls.  It'll take some time.  And because it wasn't an OB who did our ultrasound, the techs don't tell you much about the health and well-being of your baby, so we are just hoping that "no news is good news" and that we are just biding our time until we meet a healthy, strong, sweet little lady!  

I took the kids to Jamba Juice across the street from our doctor's office for PINK smoothies to celebrate, and now the name debate begins!

Week 19: Jury Duty (13 June, 2011)

I ended up spending the better portion of this week in Jury Duty.  This is the third time I've been summoned.  How some people go their whole lives and never get the privilege, and I've already gotten the dreaded piece of mail 3 times is beyond me.  Up until this point, I had somehow managed to avoid actually being selected for a jury, but just didn't find a way to get out of it this time.  So for the first time, I got to see the whole process through from beginning to end.

This has nothing to do with pregnancy!  But it's about the only notable thing that occurred this week.  There was a middle aged woman who sat next to me in our deliberations who told me on the second day, "Well, you look bigger today than you did yesterday."  No joke!  Not sure in what universe that is acceptable to tell someone, much less a complete stranger.

But the story doesn't end there.  Would you believe that on the third day, she said, "You look bigger today!"  I KID YOU NOT!!!  I think that God forgot to give some people the filter that goes somewhere near your tongue that prevents you from saying these things outloud.

Thankfully, at this stage in pregnancy, I am still gracious and kind when people make these kinds of comments, and simply smiled and replied, "Oh, really?  I think it all depends on the day and what I'm wearing."

I've also been made fully aware this week that I simply do not live a sedentary lifestyle.  After just one day of sitting in the jury box, my rear end is sore!!  In case I was ever in doubt, I am no longer questioning the fact that I do very little sitting in one place during the day!

Week 18: June 6, 2011

There's this phenomenon that happens between most women when they first get pregnant.  At least the first time around.  We want to know EVERYTHING.  So, we do what we know how: we talk about pregnancy and childbirth and having babies with anyone who will listen.  And we read everything we can get our hands on.  And we subscribe to every pregnancy website we can find.  We check these sources religiously each week, learning about each week and stage of pregnancy along the way.  We know when our babies hearts start beating, when their boy and girl parts form, when their fingernails grow, when they eyes start sensing light, when they can start hearing our voices.

But in subsequent pregnancies, we consider ourselves experienced veterans, so this stuff all falls by the wayside.  Until you have older siblings that become curious about this stuff.  Once again, I have found myself joining babycenter.com.  Sophia and Noah are constantly asking how big the baby is, and this has been such a great resource to show them.  Each week, babycenter compares the size of your baby to a common fruit or vegetable.  It's been such a great visual to give the kids some kind of idea as to what is happening inside of my ever growing belly.  This week, our baby happens to be the size of a bell pepper.

Still haven't decided what we're going to do at our ultrasound in a couple of weeks.  At this point, we're thinking we're going to find out, but I hate fully committing yet.  We've told a few people that we might do it, but I keep leaving the door open and saying we aren't totally sure yet.  True enough; I'm still not all the way convinced.

Week 17: May 30, 2011

What's heaviest on my mind this week is the ultrasound.  I am excited for it, of course.  But also maybe beginning to wonder if this baby is healthy.  I'm trying not to be anxious about it, but I feel like I've spent more time thinking about this in this pregnancy than I ever have in the past.  With the others, I don't remember worrying so much about whether our 20 week ultrasound was going to reveal anything other than a beautiful, small, healthy little baby.

And of course, we're still debating about whether or not we want to know if this baby is a boy or girl.  I've been around long enough that I think I've heard all the pros and cons each way, but so far, none of them has been enough to solidify a decision.  The jury's still out.

Finally, at 17 weeks, I am beginning to feel like I am getting my energy back.  At least some of it.  I am starting to feel like I can once again become somewhat of a contributing member of this household.  Cooking dinner might not be as monumental of a task as it was last week.

But maybe part of my problem has been that I am simply not getting enough water.  Each day, I vow I'm going to be better about hydrating myself.  But then I think of how much time I'll be spending in the bathroom, and my resolve crumbles like a muffin in a toddler's hands.  It's so hard to make myself drink the stuff when I know it might mean that I'm using the bathroom every 20 minutes.

We spent Memorial Day Weekend in the mountains this year.  That's pretty insignificant except for the fact that we did go for a hike- and I did manage to carry Sweetest P in the backpack.  I wasn't sure how that would work out, but let's be honest.  The only reason I'm making note of it is because I'm proud of carrying one baby on the back and one in the belly.  (And for those of you questioning why Tim wasn't carrying her, let me defend him by making it known that he was carrying Noah- obviously the heavier of the two.)

Week 16: Back to Life, Back to Reality!

Finally.  After 16 weeks, I feel like I have finally turned a corner.  I am beginning to return to normal levels of functionality.  Beginning at least.  After 3 consecutive days without a nap (can't tell you the last time that happened), I crashed on the fourth day and ended up napping as long as my kids- which wasn't my intention, but sure felt good none-the-less.

The first 3 days of week 16 were probably more productive than the previous 3 months combined!  Sadly, I am not sure that is an exaggeration.  And I headed into the middle of the week feeling good, I was hoping this productivity would continue.  But then, I found my kids begging me (repeatedly and very insistently) to just "READ" as I found myself dozing (snoring?) off while reading their naptime stories.  So I decided that 3 consecutive days of being productive were very successful and should therefore be rewarded with a nap!  :)

This week has also caused a lot of contemplation and reflection.  Our ultrasound will be here before we know it, amazingly enough.  Can I really be just shy of halfway?  Really?  And for the first time in our parenting journey, this ultrasound has caused debate.  To find out or not?  With the previous three, it was never really much of a discussion.  We both really like not finding out.  In fact, we've loved it.  And for me, I would almost say it's something I'm passionate about!  Laugh if you must; I know that I'm weird and quirky.  But at least I'm honest!  But we both know that this might just be the last time we have the chance to see the grass on the other side, so we're wondering if we should check it out over there.  We haven't come to a conclusion, yet, but we're at least considering it.

We also got to meet another new baby this week.  This time, we took the whole family to across town to welcome little Jed Morris into the world.  I think Sophia was in heaven.  I'm not lying when I say I think she could have held that sweet little boy until he was too big to hold!  She was hurrying Tim and I up to have her turn.  I never knew until maybe after Noah was born how much I love newborns.  There's just something so special about their scrunched up little bodies that you want to hold onto forever because you know it passes too quickly.

And boy, did holding Jed make the beginning of November seem oh...so...far...away...

Week 15: May 16, 2011

I had my 16 week appointment this week, a few days early.  This was my first appointment with my doctor, and it held more "extra" good news than I ever remember hearing from our insurance system.  So let me recap this week with a simple summary of the good and the bad for you.

The Good:
*On a minor scale, I actually lost a pound since my last appointment.  Hey, in the course of pregnancy, every pound counts, right?  But it's all back to those suspect scales.  Remember how I said I wasn't sure I trusted them?  Well, we'll just say that this week, they worked in my favor.
*Baby's heartbeat sounds good-holding steady at 160.
*This has maybe been my most productive week of pregnancy thus far!
*We can do our ultrasound (which is my next appointment- WOWSERS!) at our own clinic.  This is good news because in the past, we've had to go to another office, and the ultrasound tech is notoriously grouchy and mean.  No one should leave their ultrasound feeling grumpy, right?  So thankful to not have to visit her this time around.
*And the best news of all: it's looking like we don't have to deliver this baby at our insurance's hospital downtown.  Both Phoebe and Noah were born at that hospital.  We haven't had bad experiences there, but they haven't been super great either.  For starters, it's in the heart of downtown and VERY inconvenient to get to.  Especially while in labor!  Phoebe was born in a matter of mere minutes after arriving, very Hollywood television drama style, so I was not looking forward to a repeat of that experience.  And she was born at 12:39 am.  That meant we were driving to this hospital after midnight.  I can't imagine what it might be like in rush hour.  Or potentially in snow, during rush hour!  YIKES!  Instead, we get to go back to a closer, much newer hospital on this side of town.  This happens to be the same one where Sophia was born, and we loved it there.  Tim and I couldn't be more thrilled!  It's not even an exaggeration to say that now, every time I drive by this hospital, I brief a sigh of relief and can't help saying, "Thank you, Jesus!"

The Bad:
I don't have much to complain about.  Tim was out of town for the first part of this week, and it was a tough week with the kids.  I should be past the first trimester fog by now, but I'm still so tired.  I still have a hard time functioning through the day without a nap, and I would love to be able to use my kids' naptime to be more productive.  Instead, I find myself sleeping their naptime away, and using every ounce of strength I have to rouse MYSELF so I can go rouse THEM!!  All the while, the laundry, bills, and dust continue to pile up...

Week 14: The 3 Month Hangover

My OB loving refers to the first trimester as "The 3 Month Hangover."  I am going to unabashedly agree.  Which is funny, because truth be told, I have never in my lifetime been hung over.  However, from my very limited knowledge, everything I know tells me this is a very good analogy.  And it makes me smile every time I think of it.  At least in a 3 month hangover, you have something more lasting to show for it than an evening's worth of a good time!

That said, I would now be hoping to emerge from said "hangover."  Unfortunately, that's just not seeming to happen at this point.  There might be faint glimpses of light at the end of the tunnel, but I am certainly not there yet.  After all, I am still finding myself dysfunctional without my daily nap.

At this point in time, Tim and I have done our best to let our so called "cat" fully out of the bag and are not attempting to be secretive in anyway about the newest Nielson.  BUT, he has still not made any announcements to our youth group, so I am not entirely sure who at church knows our news and who hasn't heard yet at this point.  Which makes it completely awkward when I am trying to decide what to wear to church on Sunday morning.  He doesn't understand what it's like to have people looking at your midsection, wondering things they are too afraid to ask.  Let's just say I've worn a lot of loose fitting shirts in the last couple of weeks.  And pleaded with Tim to make a formal announcement in spite of how uncomfortable he is about it.

After my last appointment, and the relief of hearing the heartbeat finally, I need to tell my principal at work my news.  We had just recently discussed a position for me next year, that I had verbally committed to, but I didn't know how this latest development was going to impact his vision of my precious one day a week "teaching" job.  Of anyone I could think of, he was the one I was most nervous to tell.  I walked into work on Monday morning, and decided that the sooner I got it out of the way, the better I would feel.  So I hunted him down first thing on Monday, and wonder of all wonders, he was one of those few people who actually said, "Congratulations, that's great news!"  It appears that my ideal will work out just fine.  I'll go ahead and start next school year working one day a week, take off the months of November and December, and come back to work for just one day a week after the first of the year.

I am not sure if I have mentioned this prior to this point, but at the beginning of this pregnancy, almost literally every woman my age that I knew was pregnant.  This week brought the birth of the first of those babies.  On my way home from work at the end of the week, I stopped by the hospital to congratulate my friend and meet little Kate.  What a sweetheart!!!  And oh, did it make it seem like the next 26 weeks would NEVER end!!  I can't wait for it to be our turn again, in the hospital, holding, bonding with and loving on this newest addition to the fam.  It feels like that time might never come at this point...  

Week 13: Second OB Appointment

When I went in for my first appointment at 8 weeks, they told me I didn't need to come back until 16 weeks.  That seemed crazy to me.  What about the all important 12 week appointment when you get to hear the heartbeat for the first time?  When I asked about it, they told me that I could come back then, if I wanted to.  Um, yes, please.  (Hubs thinks I'm crazy at this point.)  So I scheduled my appointment for 12 weeks, and spent the four weeks in between waiting very impatiently to hear a heartbeat.  My fears of miscarriage were beginning to subside, but I knew I would feel so much better once we heard that precious, completely miraculous "whoomp, whoomp."

Sure enough, within minutes of being in the exam room, I was amazed, thrilled, relieved, moved to tears once again to hear that sweet little heart beating at 160 beats/minute.  (For any of you interested in foreshadowing, I'll let you guess what that number might mean in terms of gender.  And for the record, I made my first guess based on that very fact and was absolutely right.)

That was absolutely the best news of the day.  But there was a bonus surprise that thrilled me beyond it's worth.  I went into the appointment thinking I was at just barely 13 weeks, as of that day.  Turns out, I had never actually thought it through or done the math, but I was actually 13 weeks and 4 days.  Really, what difference does 4 days make?  Well, anyone who asks that question has maybe never been pregnant!  How great was it to go in thinking I was just barely 13 weeks and to walk out knowing that I was actually, almost, maybe on the verge of 14 weeks.  Whoo-hoo, as long as it means healthy baby, we'll speed up the countdown anyway we can!

The bad news?  According to the scales that day, I had already gained 7 pounds.  In the first trimester?  Really?  How discouraging is that?  Are you sure?  Maybe I need to take off some more clothes- I don't think my shoes were enough this time.  That is just not a good sign.  And if that's true, how come all my clothes are still fitting?  Again, I say- YIKES!  Although I have since learned to be suspect of those scales- not sure if that's a good thing or a not?  Today, we'll opt for not.

Week 12: Not much to report

To be honest, there was nothing super note worthy happening this week.  A whole lot of tiredness, napping, and wondering when I could nap again.  That's about it.  For real.

I did finally tell a couple of my co-workers, though.  The second one maybe not as much because I was ready to tell her, but more because as I walked into her classroom for the first time this week, I saw her less than subtle belly check, and I knew she was thinking it.  Kinda a reality check for me: what does the rest of the pregnancy look like when people can already see my body changing at 12 weeks?  Yikes!

And really, that's all for this week.

Week 11: Spreading the News

This particular post is what prompted me to blog about this pregnancy.  There were so many things I wanted to remember from this week that I decided I needed to record it all.  And yet, when it actually comes time to write, I am having a hard time being very literary about it all.

This was the week that we finally started sharing our news and making it fully public.  (Keep in mind this somehow became a very long process for us that lasted for about the next four weeks, but this was the beginning.)

Here we were, nearing the end of the notorious 1st trimester, and we still hadn't told most of our families our news.  In the past, we had always found a way to tell our families in person, but we knew that wasn't going to be possible this time.  And, because our two oldest kids are so much older this time around, we thought it would be fun to have THEM share the news.

The Saturday before Easter, we were all busy with Easter egg mess ruling our kitchen.  With eggs, utensils, and fingers all plunged deep into the potent dye, my mother in law called.  Hubs extracted himself to answer the phone, and we decided this was as good a time as any to tell his mom our news.  So, amidst the cups o' color, newspaper, and commotion, he switched to speaker phone and asked S & N if they had anything to tell Grandma.  My Sweetheart proudly exclaimed, "My mom's PREGNANT!"  (It still feels weird to me to hear my five year old use the word pregnant.)  Hubs looked at me in awe; he didn't know she knew that word.  However, the person we were really looking for a reaction from- didn't have one!  So my little man says, "There's a baby in my mommy's tummy!"  Still no reaction from Grandma.  He repeated himself two more times!  Still nothing.  Hubs was laughing- but giving the poor kids and Grandma no help.  With a little prodding, he pulled himself together to realize this wasn't going as planned, switched off speaker phone, and translated for his mom, who probably was having the hardest time hearing the kids, much less understanding what they were saying!!  And we finally got a reaction from her- lots of excitement and congratulations.

Later that same day, I had scheduled to skype with my family.  Although we weren't able to be there in person to tell our families this time, we figured this was the next best thing.  Little did I know that my whole family would be present for this skype session.  Which obviously worked in our favor.  Within minutes of getting everyone together, Sweetheart and Little Man were again able to share the big news.  This went much better, as they didn't have to repeat themselves multiple times this time.  Once was enough.  I am not sure that anyone in my family was surprised- in fact, I think there might have been a comment that my sister in law had predicted that this announcement was coming.  But they were excited none-the-less.

In the next couple of days, Hubs managed to get a hold of each of his three sisters and share the news with them as well.

And that was the easy part.  After that, it got much more weird, and it wasn't long before I realized that to a certain extent, I needed to mentally prepare myself before I shared our news with people.  And to be honest, I was also realizing that in some ways, I was thankful for a thick skin.

Because not everyone was as excited for us as our friends and family had been up to this point.  There were only a very small handful of people that actually showed excitement and said congratulations after this.  In fact, I got all kinds of crazy responses.  I am not sure what it is about pregnancy that makes people feel like they are at liberty to say things that they would never say to a person who wasn't pregnant (case in point, at about 32 weeks along in my first pregnancy, a grocery store clerk who commented that I was probably going to take the dessert that I was purchasing home to eat the entire thing myself!).  But man, when you're pregnant, it just seems as if people's tongues are loosed and all kinds of things come out.

Some of my favorites:
"WOW!...Holy cow you guys!"
"Was this planned?"
"Well you'll certainly have your hands full."
"Do you still get excited?"
"You guys need a hobby...a new hobby, anyway."
"Wow, 4 Kids!!!"
"How many are you going to have, anyway?"

And the top prize winner was actually not said to me, but to my mom, for crying out loud:
"Is there any limit?"

Seriously, who says that?

Anyway, in overanalyzing these varied reactions, I realized that I was so glad that I hadn't thought anything about them before we found ourselves in this situation.  Not to say that I think that would have changed anything, but I think it was much easier for me to be polite and gracious in response when I hadn't thought it through too much before hand.  We may not be the best parents in the world, and we may not have the most money in the world, and we may not get it right every single time, but who's place is it to judge us for the size of our family?

We are thankful for every life that God has added to our numbers, and again, I will stand my ground in my belief that this is divinely planned.

Week 10: Sophia and Noah learn the secret

For fairly obvious reasons, we held off telling Sophia and Noah the big news.  We didn't want to them to spill the beans for us, when we weren't quite ready to share the secret yet.   I was sure that Sophia would be so excited that she would waste no time telling everyone she knew.  And didn't know.  To anyone who would listen, really.

After Tim got back from his trip last week, he decided he was finally ready to let the other kids in on the secret.   But a couple days went by, and we still hadn't said anything to them.  Then on Saturday morning, Tim woke up deciding that today would be the day, I guess.  I had been excited to tell the kids for some time, so I think if we would have thought it through together a little better, I would have thought of a creative way to tell the kids and made a whole event out of it.  But that's the difference between mom's and dad's.  Tim started to tell the kids before I was even totally realizing what was happening, I think.  As we're getting breakfast together, all of a sudden, Noah has somehow magically appeared at my side and lifts my shirt up to look at my tummy.  I hear Tim saying, "What's in there?"

Noah very sheepishly answered, "A baby!"  I am pretty sure Sophia giggled.

We didn't talk about it a whole lot more that day, except that I told them that the baby would come sometime after Halloween, but before Thanksgiving.  (So great to have milestones to mark it by to help them gauge time better.)  I think it took several days before it began to sink in for them.  It must be especially hard when there is nothing for them to see yet.

Once Sophia and Noah knew, we ever so slowly started letting the cat begin to make it's way out of the bag.  But we were still fairly selective in who we told, and it was still just a handful of people we came in contact with most frequently.

Our best announcement was to our nearest and dearest friends here in Colorado.  We would be seeing them at the end of the week for a monthly dinner date, so that day, I dressed Sweetest P in the same "Big Sister" Tshirt we bought for Sophs when we found out baby #2 was coming.  Things were a little chaotic as we got to our friends house, so it took Erika a couple of minutes before she caught the message in the shirt.  But it was well worth the wait, and our most fun announcement.  It was also the most excitement and enthusiasm shared with us when telling of the arrival of our 4th.

Week 9: 31 more?!?!

It was right around this time that I got a message from a friend telling me she was expecting her 3rd baby near the end of October.  (That must mean she's only a week or two ahead of me.)  She was lamenting that every pregnancy symptom seems to be so much more exaggerated the third time around.  She definitely didn't know our news at this point, and I read her entire message laughing out loud!  All I could think was, "If you think that about the 3rd time, imagine what the 4th is like?"

I feel like I am experiencing symptoms that I had only heard about prior to this pregnancy.  I have one friend whose first indication of pregnancy has always been round ligament pain.  I always thought she was crazy.  I had read about it, knew about it, never really experienced it too much, let alone known I was pregnant because I was feeling it.  But this time around, I can now say that I not only know about it, but can definitely tell you what it feels like.  Except I'll spare you.  It's just weird to me that it's taken 4 babies for me to really identify with what it is.

And the bathroom trips.  Geez, Louise, can I PLEASE sleep through the night without having to get up to pee?  It's never been so bad for me this early on.  One middle of the night trip doesn't seem to be enough for me this time around- there's usually at least one more, very early morning.  As in, it's too early to really get up yet, but too late to be able to fall back asleep for any decent kind of sleep.  Maybe, for me, I would consider this one of the worst symptoms of pregnancy.

Cravings?  Like never before.  For the most part, I haven't ever had too many pregnancy cravings.  In fact, Tim often bemoans the fact that I am no ordinary pregnant woman.  He has long awaited his ability to demonstrate his knight in shining armor abilities by making late night runs to the grocery store for pickles dipped in chocolate and ice cream.

Here's where it might be important to note the new page we turned in our family this year.  Sometime in January, we decided this would be the year that we would pull together as Team Nielson and give up something for Lent.  Somehow, something became some things and we decided to forgo both sugar (for the adults) and all beverages besides water and milk (for the whole family).  (On an unrelated note, that's kinda a cool story that doesn't belong here.  If you wanna hear about it, ask me and I'd love to tell you about it.)  Anyway, at the time we made this decision, I was not pregnant.  Had I been, that might have been a (major) factor.  So...I pretty much endured the first trimester without any kind of sweets or coffee.  WHAT WAS I THINKING?  Tim's still waiting to ride the proverbial white horse disguised as a Honda Odyssey for a midnight pickles and ice cream pick-up.

Tiredness?  Check.  To the extreme.  As in, I'm living for my next opportunity to sleep.  My poor family.  This growing a life inside of me stuff is making me next to worthless for them.  It's amazing my 3 little people have survived the first trimester in tact without any major catastrophes for how I've been rendered ineffective on the couch.  Ice cream for breakfast, anyone?  (Except we're not eating sugar- for breakfast or any other time.)

In fact, Tim took an almost 5 day trip this week.  I'm not sure how we survived.  I have no idea what the kids ate for the duration of that week.  Thankfully it was the perfect time for me to capitalize on some pre-made, healthy meals I had mistakenly purchased on Groupon.  My meals were delivered to my door, and simply needed to be warmed up.  Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  And they were all good.  And healthier than what I would have prepared at that point in time.  Somehow, we all survived.  I had this monsterous list of catching up on life tasks that I had wanted to accomplish while Tim was away.  Instead, I napped harder than the kids during nap time.  I figured there was always after bedtime to be productive.  Except that by the time the kids were in bed, I managed to muster up enough energy to crawl in bed and find Grey's Anatomy Season 1 reruns on Hulu.  (And sadly enough, that's no exaggeration for literary sake.)

Holy smokes: there's 31 more weeks to go!  How am I...and my kids...and my husband going to make it?  I think it was at this point that I started thinking maybe four was a good number after all and maybe this would be the last time.