Our Story

Eisley:

2:30 pm- wet

3:30 pm- nursed

7:30 pm- nursed (about 20 minutes)

8:30-10 pm- sleep

10-10:35 pm- nursed

11- sleep

2 am- nursed

4 am- nursed

You’re here.

Saying my heart exploded when I met you is entirely an understatement…More than just my heart exploded. My entire insides experienced an overwhelming and fierce upheaval. Maybe it is that my heart expanded to occupy my entire body, to accommodate what I feel for you.

Last Sunday, one week ago, severe contractions began. By the middle of the night they were 10 minutes apart, then 7 by morning. I did some of my laboring in the tub, which was soothing, and by 7:30 am Monday morning our bags were by the door and I was yelling through intense pain, waiting as my family rushed around for any last minute things we might need.

I’ve joked for most of this pregnancy that I probably make my taxi drivers leery of taking me anywhere for fear that I will go into labor in their car. But Monday your daddy, papa and nanny piled in the back seat and your laboring mama was bracing herself four minutes apart, shouting to your dad to time and for everyone else to please be quiet until it passed. Our driver didn’tspeak English but he clearly knew what was going on, as “OH MY GOSH OWWWWWWWW!”from the mouth of a swollen, baby bellied woman is universal. I also got very very sick moments before arriving at the hospital, and he had to pull to the side of the road to let me out. He was white knuckled clutching the steering wheel, driving as fast as he possibly could. I wonder what was going through his mind.

8:30 By the time I get to the laboring room, I am 3 cmdilated. Our hospital doesn’t allow papas in the room with mamas for the actual delivery, but they are willing to let yours in for the laboring portion. In fifteen minutes he is suited up in scrubs and knocking on the door, but I have already dilated 8 cm. Our sweet nurse, Fanny, opens the door to him and says, “No need you come in, baby will be here very soon.” I look at her and say, “I won’t be able to have an epidural, will I.” “No need!” she says, and they wheel us to the delivery room.

9:15 There are five or six nurses in here with me, as well as the doctor who will deliver you. Fanny is the only one who speaks English,and she is very pregnant herself. We have butted heads on a few occasions during some appointments- two pregnant ladies sometimes just don’t mix. I was very sensitive, she was very abrasive. But right now, giving birth to you- I am so thankful she is here. I think I tell her this eight or nine times in between contractions, with tears running down my face. She keeps telling me I am so brave, that my baby is coming, and she is not small! I remember thinking that I need to shout louder than this pain to get through it- I was yelling at the top of my lungs. The doctor scolds me- in labor with you!!- NOT TO SHOUT. I want to give her something to shout about.

9:35 Fanny is telling me that she sees your head, that you are almost here, that I am so brave. She tells me to push again when I feel I need to- I tell her I don’t want to push anymore. She squeezes my hand and pours water in my mouth and tells me my baby is almost here. One more, maybe two more times and I can meet you. The pain is absolutely blinding. Exhaustion suddenly turns into extreme focus, and I feel your body- this person that has been growing in me for nearly a year!- come out of mine. Then I hear it. The most beautiful- most moving- most hand crafted for my heart sound- your tiny little baby Eisley cry.

I feel wave on wave on wave of relief. You are here. That you can breathe. That the pain is over.

The doctors have to stitch me and I haven’t seen you yet. I don’t know why this is, but they didn’t feel the need to numb me. Maybe they thought the pressure of labor would have numbed me naturally, but it sure didn't. I feel each and every stitch and am screaming in torment. Again they tell me to relax. Again sweat and tears are running down my face. I ask Fanny again and again- do they know I can feel it. Can they give me medicine. Please no more.

A nurse across the room is wrapping you up, and she brings you over to me. I can’t touch you yet, but she wisely puts your face right up to mine. You open your eyes. You look right into me. You devastate and ruin mein this moment. I can’t believe how gorgeous you are. You’re clean, a little swollen, and your eyelashes are blonde- almost white. So clear, so awake and alert. You’re taking me in and I’m taking you in. And the pain literally washes away. I don’t feel anything except your gaze. I always thought the word "miracle” was tired- but I get it now. Your smell and your eyes and the exploding inside me- I’ll never forget.

There was a lot of craziness over the next day and a half, and they didn't let your daddy meet you until two hours after you were born, and the doctor caused you a sugar crash, and the nurses gave you a heat rash, and at one point the sugar water they tried to give you caused you to choke and turn completely purple while the nurses stood around saying you were fine and tapping your back. Your daddy grabbed you from them and ran out the door and down the hall to NICU- we literally pushed the nurses to follow, yelling that you were not fine and to please help you. Your nanny still says it was theworst moment of her life. I had an IV in my hand and couldn’t follow- your grandpa came back and prayed with me and a few moments later I heard your cry again. Our time in the hospital was a lot to handle, but it really doesn't matter at all now. I told you before that your life is a miracle. You came right on time, you are so long and chubby and beautiful and your daddy is so crazy in love. Your neck is so strong, your grip is so tight, your eyes are so wide.

When I first saw your dad after giving birth to you, I told him that what they say about forgetting the pain- it’s all a lie. How could anyone forget that. A week in and I see what they are talking about. You made a mommy out of me, Eisley. In a second you turned us into a family. I stare at you in awe that you are here- you are finally here and I can finally verify for myself moment by moment that you are okay. You have a diaper rash today and I said that your little cries of pain hurt worse than labor. You break my heart-you absolutely devastate me with emotion! One day you might read this and roll your eyes, but it’s all true. I just can’t believe you're mine.

I guess I’ll stop there because there is enough gush to never really end. Ridiculous loads of love, my baby.

Mama

What I want to teach you.

If I teach you anything, I hope it is the beauty of compassion. I heard once that hate is not the opposite of love, indifference is. I sometimes wonder if people think that showing compassion would make them seen weak. Some people only want to give advice. Maybe it makes them feel less helpless. But a large portion of the time I have found that advice is not what is needed...in times of great trial and pain, advice does not soothe like mercy. It usually burns like salt. My dad (your grandpa) is the very best example of a merciful listener. He has given me grace by not taking sides, not offering advice, just being a safe place to cry out about the thorns digging in my heart. These times are rare, but when they happen, he gives me a tender look that tells me he cares about my pain, and when I'm finished he tells me he loves me. It soothes like balm. Why is it so hard for us to be in the presence of pain without feeling the need to minimize it? Pain need not be compared... Some is certainly greater than others...when I see a homeless person begging, maybe my fortune seems obnoxious to me and brings me shame. There's no need for this. Maybe a rising wave of compassion leading to a wordless prayer and tears are the real language of the heart of mercy. To be able to say honestly- I am in the presence of suffering that I do not understand, and as a human alongside this one, my heart is broken. Because compassion means I have the capacity to feel deeply pain that I myself am not experiencing, as though it were me in their place, as it so easily could have been.

Just thinking.
Xo

High risk in China. What it's like.

I know you're not actually late.

It just feels like you are because we have expected you so many times. You're still two weeks away from your due date, but we've been told to expect you no later than 36 weeks. At one point we were even told 28 weeks. Looks like you're more of a trooper than the doctors expected.

When you grow up and decide to have babies, I'm going to advise you not to do so in China. Now maybe that isn't fair, because I have a few friends with perfectly smooth birthing stories here in china...however, for whatever reason, no medical professional seems to know what to do with us.

At my 36 wk check up they told us the placenta had matured too much again. They gave you one week to hang out in my belly and said to come back the following Tuesday to check in to the hospital and prep for a cesarean. The following day is a Wednesday, and I got my first taste of back labor contractions and I did not care for them. They lasted for 12 hours and I yelled a lot, then they went away and returned Thursday evening. We went to the hospital, and you basically know that whole story. Stayed for two days, tried to induce labor, a host of tests and THEN an actual water test which neither led them to confirm or deny that my water was broken. (they told me the day before that it had.) Sent us home pretty confused.

Tuesday, the day of my actual appointment, comes around and your dad is stuck in Hong Kong. Wednesday I go in for an ultrasound bc I am beginning to realize that I am told a vastly different story about you each visit. They tell me nothing about the placenta, but this doctor is concerned about the umbilical cord maturity. Suggests I stay in hospital for next week for monitoring. I am reluctant (actually, I refuse) to stay there again, and want to go ahead with the cesarean that was already planned a week ago. Doctor tells me to come in following day fasting for blood work and other prep, and I will be checked in and have the surgery the following day. (Friday).

Thursday: bags packed and ready, again. I tried to fast, but I'm a pregnant diabetic. I lasted about 7 hours before my blood sugar crashed and I had to eat. In the morning I try calling two numbers I've been given to find out what I should do. (I've gone all the way out there and been sent home before after unsuccessful fasts and I wanted to avoid that.) (And honestly, who expects a pregnant diabetic to fast for 12 hours??)
No answer. I arrive late and am lectured. Resist urge to throw rocks/curse, mostly bc I have no rocks in reaching distance. Nurse looks at my file and says I don't need blood work bc I was just here a few days ago, and there was no need for me to fast. (Do they think I am coming up with these instructions on my own??) The doctor who told me to fast had my file and knew I was just in the hospital. I probably didn't roll my eyes but I'm sure I sighed loudly.
Get to maternity ward. Maternity ward doctor asks through translator why i want to make my baby come early. Why do I want to have a surgery....seriously??
She then says that even if they could procure my blood type, the Chinese blood would not mix with the foreigners blood.
Seriously. She said that.
She then admits (after A LOT of back and forth that felt like hitting your head on a wall...really, don't try it.) that she doesn't want to treat me bc I am foreigner and she feels if something went wrong, it would reflect poorly on her.
At this point I actually feel compassion. (kind of refreshing bc all I had been feeling was frustration.) I felt sad for the fear she lives under. I know Jesus and I still live in fear. What kind of chains must she be in to just lie and grasp at straws to avoid treating me.
They check us in shortly after (I still don't know why) and we wait for 4 or 5 hours (your grandparents and I) until she finally comes and says there is nothing wrong that would be cause for us to take you out early. This is not after another exam or test. I assume it was after reviewing my file, but who knows, because those same files led other doctors to believe you need to come out immediately.
She suggests we stay in the hospital for monitoring. I don't understand this bc if nothing is wrong, why can't i just go home. I say I stayed here before based on this hospitals recommendation, was charged obscenely and then discharged under the conclusion that it was all unnecessary. I feel like a puppet that two small children are fighting over.
She tells me that the hospital
Policy is that if a baby is born before 38 weeks, she will be place in NICU regardless of how healthy she is, and that would cost us a great deal. I say fine. Schedule the cesarean for next week, when we are 38 weeks, and I will come in twice for additional monitoring.
Two days later i come in for a checkup- fetal monitoring, blood
Pressure, etc. So glad it was a Sunday and your dad could come with me...At this checkup my blood pressure is high, my ankles and feet are swollen, and your heart is beating a little on the quick side. They also measure some contractions and feel strongly that I should check in to the hospital.
I cry. Because Im overwhelmed, and exhausted of being told things that don't pan out or add up. They are saying edemia and preeclampsia and I've read of these things and i don't want to take the risk, and our sweet English speaking nurse is insisting we stay so that if you are in distress they can detect it right away and rescue you. We agree. Check in. Pay. Etc. Get to our room. A new maternity ward doctor comes, takes my blood pressure, reviews all my paperwork, and examines my abdomen. Says you have dropped half way. (Best news of the week little girl). Says my results are all normal and I can go home.
Seriously.
They also told me that if you are in distress, I will feel you moving a lot more than normal. If anything changes, I should come back.
We are discharged, get our money back, have to wait an hr for he hospital to open again ( by then it had closed for "nap") so that we can buy insulin. My blood sugar is crashing bc I haven't eaten in 7 hours. I stuff chocolate into my mouth and drink your dads tea and tears are running down my face and he just keeps kissing my head and telling me I'm doing a great job and how much he loves me and that he knows you'll be ok and in that moment I'm so thankful for him.

We come home. I go straight to bed. We were going to
Have a baby shower today. The house looks lovely, but we had to
Cancel. I'm feeling heart broken and unsure of how you are faring. Tugged in so many directions and untrusting of any doctor I have seen In the last 9 months. I feel criticized by them and unhelped. I can't sleep so I take a bath, and you start moving like crazy. It lasts for hours. Should I just enjoy this, or should I worry?
Meanwhile everyone wants to know what's going on, because they love you and they love your mommy and daddy. I just want to sleep. I cry a lot. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel better.

Waiting

We've been home for a couple days to wait things out...one doctor with one test said my water broke partially, hence the Pitocin drip. The next day, after hours of trying to be induced, painful contractions, and no progress, another doctor did another test and conveyed that it was "safe" and ok to go home. Now, does that mean my water did not break? Broke partially? I'm not convinced it was ever broken. I was going to go the hospital before I felt any leaking anyways, bc my contractions were close together and strong. We ended up paying a lot of money to stay bc they assumed it was broken based on what someone else told them. We asked over and over for a test, which they only agreed to days later. Your pop was not pleased, but your heavenly Father has enough money for all these shannanagins. I had mild contractions Friday, then Saturday morning, then nothing. We did meet a sweet and precious lady who stayed in our room with us, though, (the chocolate lady) who was 12 DAYS OVERDUE. We got to talk about Gods love and about why Christians pray, and we've been texting back and forth since we left. She wrote me Late last night to tell me her little boy FINALLY made his way into the world. It was a special thing to be on the receiving end of such sweet and personal news. I'm trying to focus on that friendship having resulted from the hospital stay, and not on all the unpredictability and misunderstanding that wracked my nerves and raised my blood pressure.
Your heart rate dropped Thursday night around 3 am, and they did some extra monitoring the rest of the night. You seemed ok other than somewhat fluctuating btwn chill and wired. You still haven't dropped. I don't think you're interested in meeting everyone yet.
Tuesday is your expected arrival date, based on what they told me last about how the placenta is looking...of this I feel equally unconvinced, because I get such a variety of reads depending on which doctor is examining us. I guess we'll see in our ultrasound when Tuesday comes around.
And in more wonderful news, your papa left a few hours ago to receive your grandparents at the Hong kong airport. Your nanny has requested that you wait until she gets here. Maybe you're just honoring her request.

Love you bird. Ready when you are. Mama.

A birthing story. To be continued.

Hey little girl.
Well. You're gonna be born in China. Possibly tonight, but who is to say. Apparently not the gynecologist, or any of the four nurses that we've seen
Tonight.
Monday I had a 36 wk check up, where I was told an ultrasound would be unnecessary. I insisted, because I know what our risks are despite the doctors reluctance to look at neither me nor at our medical record. In the ultrasound they found that the placenta is a bit too mature again, and as a result you would need to come
Out by next week. Plans were made for us to check in to the hospital the following week.
Yesterday, the day after our appointment, started out normal, but by 2:30 pm I was contracting and dilating in an unmistakable way. The pain began in my lower back. Intense and sharp. Difficult to breathe through. They persisted at 15 minute intervals, lasting 30 seconds to a minute at a time. This continued through the night.
Around 3 am the contractions wrapped themselves around my abdomen, like particularly awful menstrual cramps, and sped up to 10 minutes apart. Around 7 am I fell asleep somehow, and woke around 8:30 mid contraction. That was my last one of the daytime hours.
I spent the rest of today walking, squatting, pacing. Taking hot baths. Anything to get the labor-ing on the move again. Your dad and I went to dinner with some friends, where I frequently excused myself to pace outside, breathing through fresh back labor pains.
After dinner our friend took some maternity pictures of us 3. Someday when I show you them ill tell you this is what I looked like when I was in labor with you. Annoyed at your good natured and fun loving daddy, and grimacing through the pain.
We piled into a taxi, called the school driver, dashed into our apartment to grab our hospital bags, all the while timing my contractions. It was around this time that I thought I noticed some leaking.
We were picked up by our bosses, and headed to the hospital. The ride there was pure anxiety. I couldn't breathe, My blood sugar was plummeting, and everyone was asking me if i was having a contraction every time I breathed in sharply. It's a lot of pressure for someone who doesn't know what's about to happen, who will be able to translate when we get there, and if indeed they are in labor. All I knew was it HURT.
We got to the hospital, realized we had forgotten all our money, and we're ushered in to a less than sterile room where a Cantonese woman with plastic gloves pried my legs open and shoved her fingers inside me mercilessly, lecturing me in Chinese. Everyone around us discussed her findings without telling me what was going on, and around this time your daddy was being cornered into signing a paper saying he understands he will not be permitted in the room with me when you are born.
Someone had translated over the phone to the doctor that my water had broken, which I was not confident of. I tried to explain that I wasn't sure, but that was never translated. The gynecologist looked like she was 18 and was constantly giggling and playing on her iPhone, taking pictures of herself and ichatting with someone. She told me I would need a cesarian Birth bc my pelvis is different from an Asian woman's. They needed a sample of my urine, and insisted I pee into a skinny vial while sitting on the bed, which was lined with one of those pads u use to train puppies where to pee. I refused and walked to the restroom, which was the MOST GHASTLY smelling, disgusting place I have been yet- the smell of just being in there still lingers, hours later.
They moved me from this empty room to one ten feet away with another woman watching Chinese soaps at midnight and coughing up a lung. The "biohazard" bins were open and spilling over. I kept asking your daddy if we could please just go home. My contractions had all but stopped, and the nurses said I had not begun to dilate. One said my cervix was soft, and one said it was not (lots of merciless checking going on) and they concluded from these two opinions that I had a "50 % chance" of delivering tonight. I want them to explain how they know my water has broken, but they have given me no such explanation. Now we are In a room with 8 others, laying on wooden beds. Somehow your pops is passed out beside me without any pillows, and there is a man sitting right outside the open doored maternity ward chain smoking and tossing his cigarettes on the hospital floor.
We managed to both run out of minutes at the same bad time tonight, and I can't help but think of my religions class
Two years ago, and the belief in "omens"...
How did I get here?

Have been having contractions again, these much more localized in my abdomen, 7 minutes apart. I hope they persist. I hope you come tonight.

Last nights 2 am contractions came to nothing. I am trying to request that a nurse or doctor do what they have been calling a "paper test" to see if my water has indeed broken, but no one will give me the time of day. I am supposed to move downstairs this morning, but I don't know when, the only nurse I could communicate with has left for her morning shift in VIP. She knew less than I did about what is going to happen with me today. She just kept saying I must stay, and I must not walk around, bc my water has broken. "But how do they know it has broken?" "Firstly, because you told us so." "But I didn't." "We can test this." "Have they? Will they?" "Not so clear." Awesome.
The precious and sweet thing is that there is another pregnant woman in the room who speaks English, and this morning when i called the nurse repeatedly and got nowhere she spoke up from her cot and said,"hello, what can i do for you?" and offered me
her chocolates.
A few minutes ago five nurses crowded around me to touch my belly and to marvel at my insulin pump.
I am not convinced My water has broken, but I will admit that I hope it did. I want labor to be imminent. I am in a lot of pain.

Got of the phone (bc it died and we forgot our charger in the mayhem!) after a soothing comforting encouraging talk with my mom in law. Can't wait til she gets here. Talked about how I am not in chinas hands, at the Mercy of The decisions i cant Make Sense of. I'm in Jesus'. Capable Jesus who has purposes your life and mine, and given us a little miracle and a piece of grace in you.


1:45 pm. We're in the delivery area about to be induced. They said David can't come with me. I cried entering the room and who did I find for company but my English speaking chocolate baring friend. She said his will be a special experience and not to be afraid, we can talk. She added minutes to my phone online. I'm feeling comforted and unbelievably loved by my Lord and Savior.

35 weeks

Wow! I have really neglected writing on here....mostly because our Internet at home has not been reliable to say the least, and lugging a laptop and a
Baby belly to Starbucks is just.not.appealing. Typing on this lil iPhone is tedious, but I guess I've been needing to get with the century for a while now anyways.

My goodness honey girl!!!! There are so many things to say about you. You are so CLOSE to me, inside me, near my heart. And yet. You are still SUCH a complete mystery to us. Here is what I know about you so far:
You don't appreciate it when my blood sugar is low, and you have no trouble letting me know it.
You love music, particularly The Civil Wars, Gungor, The Decemberists, and a host of other folksy sounds. You're a girl after your daddy's Virginia mountains, Americana heart.
I've never felt or seen you move so much as you do when I've got the Mumford and Sons station playing on my belly.
You like your daddy's voice but shy away from his touch. Like most babies you stop moving the moment we
Draw attention to the fact.

Now that it looks like we can have a natural delivery, I've been reading up like crazy. Nothing I read dispels the terror. As horrifying as it ALL sounds and as much as I wish there was an alternative way to get you into the world with us, I am feeling more ready each day. The crowding in the ribs
might have something to do with it.
You know, I hear a lot of women complain about the discomfort
of the kicking. I keep waiting for it to become that way for us, but even when I feel a twinge of pain from your movements, I still just think its the sweetest thing. When other things ail me, I get grumpy, but it's never really had to do with you. I wish you would move more than you already do. I just really like you a lot. It keeps occurring to me that one day you will be a grown person walking around, making decisions. Pretty incredible but I wont fast forward.
We've had little time to prepare a room for you, what with all the moving and medical expenses over the course of the pregnancy, but I hear ya don't need much. We bought you a crib his week, and I think you'll be crashing with mom and dad in our room for the first few weeks. I've got food for your lil baby belly, and lots and lots of (free!) diapers for your lil baby booty. We have a few outfits for your first months. Other than that I think we'll manage as we go.
(who is this zen lady talking to you? You know as well as I do that your pop is the relaxed one.)

Ok well. Thats the update. You're lookin great in there. You've done a top notch job of developing. Could t be prouder :) See you in a couple weeks! (a wk and a half from now and you will have my full permission to make your debut.)
Xo pat pat pat snuggle snuggle

Battling the Blues

What do you do when the pit is past eye level. Every day my spirit grows more restless. There is so much time to fill now, and not enough to fill it with. My body is growing while my heart tosses and turns. I ache for home.

movin right along!!

You are kicking and turning up a STORM, and I could NOT be more relieved. You really had me going there with your two day nap. (I'm sure you weren't asleep that whole time. What were you doing?) I've gotten used to feeling you wiggle regularly and I did NOT care for your absence. Lecture lecture finger shake. I even went to the doctor to eavesdrop on your heart beat. They were all hey man, chill out. You don't need to worry so much. Only they said it in Chinese, so through translation it was something like, "Everything alright with baby." And the doctor told me to take my shoes off and I almost cried. (Hello.Evil.Hormones.) I wish I had my own ultrasound shannanigins at home so I could peek in on you any time I wanted or felt worried or wanted to know exactly what is jabbing me in the rib. What will it be like when you get here? I'll work on chilling out, man.

I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! Wowza. I sure stinking do.

Ps we gotchya a place to live. High five, parents! (Really, it was Jesus. He loves you more than even me. What! We'll talk.)

xo,
thecrazyladyobsessedwithyourkickcounts.

Hello, third trimester.

Well, there was about a week and a half there where I was exercising at the gym again regularly. It didn't take long for restless nights, Dongguan humidity and seven hour days with preschoolers to wear me down. Now my days consist of a long walk waddle home from school, panting at the top of that hill, and finally making it to the apartment where I strip off my sweaty clothes and wrestle myself into the least waist-hindering clothing I own to settle into a deep dark nap coma. Later I will peruse Pinterest, see images of pretty baby nurseries and girls in skinny jeans, get depressed and begin my search for a fruity cereal.

Sigh.

We're going to get your daddy's blood tested this weekend to find out if he is negative like me- there's a sliver of a chance he is, but we'll take it. If he's not, we'll have to go to Hong Kong or Macau or somewhere else out of our pay grade to get some shot called Rhogam. I guess it keeps me from making antibodies against you. We really want to avoid anything anti where it concerns you. We are all pro you around here.

We looked at an apartment last week that I decided I could make work since it seemed to be our only option. Having the entire summer to get it ready was promising, (since I will now be grounded to China til you come. No flying for us after all!) and I was starting to feel a bit optimistic about our living prospects when this move became unavailable to us as well. Along with every.single.good.apartment.we have seen/heard about.

Disheartened. That is the word. We're coming up with another plan, and I spent the weekend crying like seven month pregnant mommies will do, over all this atop feelings of inadequacy and fear of the future and exhaustion from the burden I didn't know I was carrying, and now I feel a bit  better. Still lacking resolution, still lacking a plan, but, better than mascara running down my face and those weeping-hangovers the next two days. I don't know what we are going to do. I don't know what this summer will be for me now. Ha. I don't even have a "but I do know..." to add to that. I really don't know anything! OH. Here is one. I know I will be napping A LOT. ;) And I suppose I know that I will  make this frustrating-for-a-new-family apartment work. It's not SO bad. Its squishy and small, but so are you. Maybe I need to learn GRATITUDE. Maybe I need to learn to train my heart in CONTENTMENT. And maybe I need to keep reminding myself that things won't always be this way.

gettin a watermelon belly

I know that God wants to teach me something. SOMETHING. In all this wonderful chaos. I hope I am learnin whatever it is I'm supposed to be learning.

our first Eisley purchase. You're tiny!

In my belly

I'm feelin like you keep the same schedule as I do. On top of that, you keep he schedule I would love to keep. You sleep all day, wake up for a few snacks, are hyper before bed, then sleep all night. In the morning you wake up wiggly and (I imagine) happy. Then you go back to sleep.

Your video ultrasound let us see you grabbing your lil feetsies. It kills me every time I watch it, and now when I feel you move I picture that is what you are doing, and I basically swoon for you all over again. All bias aside, you're the cutest thing I have EVER seen.

Daddy

Your handsome daddy has been writing your name on his hand. Ain't that sweet?

27 weeks!

How far along? 27 weeks 
Total weight gain: 12 lbs (Been trying to rectify this with inordinate consumption of cheese and peanut butter!)
Maternity clothes? Two sister in laws and a husband's trip to America later and I am well stocked with maternity clothes. I mostly just try to be creative with stretchy skirts and form fitting shirts, because maternity dresses tend to make me look like I am wearing a giant bag. (Blame it on the booty!) 
Stretch marks? no :) 
Sleep: getting better now that I have a maternity pillow! That thing is BRILLIANT.
Best moment this week: Hmmm....When our friends Josh and Jenny offered to buy Eisley a crib. And aquiring our new (to us) i phone! I am excited to be in touch with our family in the states, and taking lots and lots of pictures of our lil honeydew melon!
Miss Anything? Definitely miss sitting or laying without back pain, and I also miss eating without heartburn afterward!!
Movement: several times throughout the day and at night and especially after eating apple slices! :)
Food cravings: Cottage cheese with peaches. But I think I really only want these things because they  are difficult to come by in China. 
Anything making you queasy or sick: not much of that going on anymore. Maybe once or twice a week I have a queasy hour or so, but we've been pretty clear since we made it past the fourth month. PRAISE THE LORD.
Gender: GIRL!!!
Labor Signs: still nope lol
Symptoms: heartburn! And a very painful burning/tingling sensation in my left leg- only because of where Miss Eisley bird is sitting. It's okay. ;) AH and some majorly pinched nerves in my back, which make it awkward to sit or lay at any point for any amount of time. 
Belly Button in or out? innie! 
Wedding rings on or off? on
Happy or Moody most of the time: I really only have two 'moods' outside of happy: super sleepy, and super sensitive. We've had so many conversations the last few months where I have had to stop and say..."I hear myself. I hear the irrational." 
Looking forward to: findin out for sure how early baby bird will be makin her debut. Praying and hoping she can make it past week 31!! 

Burrowing Bird

We need to talk about your penchant for mommy's rib cage. Are you shy or nervous? I regularly feel you burrowing deep into my right side, and I just can't imagine that it's comfortable.

I'm takin you in belly form to the doctor again today. I'm hoping all the cheese I ate this week has fattened you up a bit. (It has certainly fattened ME up. Yikes!) Doctor will check on your placenta (I guess it's your placenta, who else would it belong to?) and maybe give us a better idea about how early you will be coming. I'm nervous, and I also really don't enjoy going to the doctor here. It's kind of a whole to do. I'm usually lectured through translation about not calling ahead. Which is funny to me because--- I don't speak Chinese. How can I call ahead?

It is a good hospital though, from what I can tell so far, so I am going to try to go in with open hands and just TRUST that they're doing everything that needs to be done.

I love you and your big ol noggin. In fact I can feel that sweet noggin rollin against my ribs as we speak. Can you pick a new position?

xo,
Mommy

Early Bird

I've been reading up on the implications of a fast maturing placenta. Most women who have this trouble end up delivering as early as 30 weeks. This morning I read story upon story of successful early births. It seems like even if you came that early, you will be okay. I already know you are strong. I already know you are beautiful. I already know you are SWEET! Chances are you'll just need some extra help when you get here. I'm going back to see our doctor on Thursday, and hopefully then she can give me a better idea of what our plan should be. I've been reading nonstop and I see words like 'steroids' to help mature your lungs, 'pre-term' induction and Cesarian Cesarian Cesarian. What is evident to me is that we may be meeting you in five or six short weeks...!


So much of this pregnancy has been laden with fear and tears and frustration and anxiety. Fear for your health, tears over the thought of losing you, \ frustration over medical care and food options available to me here in China, and anxiety over trying to decide what to do for you and I. But the thought of holding you and kissing you and seeing you kick your little legs put a HUGE smile on my face today, and a LOVELY burst of joy in my heart. So fitting, Eisley Eleanore. Joyful Light.


Initially, thinking you might come too soon had my heart gripped in fear. I thought if you didn't make it, I don't think my heart could take it...Especially now that I have seen you, felt you. I had this moment today where I realized that you don't belong to me. You're in my care temporarily, but you belong to the Lord. Whatever happens, you're in His care. I don't know if it was relinquish, but something did turn over inside me at that thought. You're His, whatever happens. You are loved and known and cared for by Him, whatever the next few weeks bring.


Can't believe the love I have for you. Head over heels. "The Lord will accomplish what concerns you." I hope so deep that I get to meet you, alive and well. Your family is praying, little lady. I can only protect you as far as my body allows. But you my sweet are safe and sound, no matter what tomorrow holds.

25 weeks

WOW kid. With your poofy lips and your button nose, you're a beauty. BREATH. TAKING.

We finally were able to do the 4d ultrasound. Through translation I gathered that everything looks normal- your heart rate, your organs, etc. Except one thing. The placenta that feeds and nourishes you has grown too mature for where we are in the pregnancy. They said you are a little on the small side, and that could be why. It could also mean that you will come too early, because when we get to the end the placenta won't be able to support you, and there is some risk in that.

At first when they said this, I cried. It was something I had feared. They referred me to a specialist, a diabetes doctor who actually speaks English, and she was wonderful. She asked me about my blood sugar and my insulin dosages, and concluded that my diabetes control is good. However at this stage in pregnancy, the hormones that the placenta make cause the mommy's body to resist insulin a bit, which is why my blood sugar has been a bit more difficult to control the past two weeks. She gave me a book to record everything-- when I eat, what my fasting blood sugars are, what they are two hours after I eat, how much insulin I take, etc.We'll be going to her with these results weekly from now on, and she'll keep an eye on how you and that pesky placenta are growing.

There are a lot of risks involved in growing you in my belly. However most of those risks expired after our first trimester together. I am so thankful and relieved to hear that. Also, because mommy has only had this stupid disease for five years, the chances that it will hurt you drop significantly. PHEW! May I just also mention to you how much lighter my shoulders feel after hearing a doctor tell me that everything you and I are experiencing is normal and common? Last week I got to the end of my rope-- you can only treat your body like a machine for so long-- poking and prodding and injecting and correcting-- expecting and needing perfection but rarely achieving it-- before you sort of. just. snap. I spent about 65 % of last week in tears.

We're calling the consulate to demand that after MONTHS of holding our medical supplies, they be released. We've been paying out of pocket weekly for test strips, long acting insulin, and meal time insulin, and it has all but depleted our finances. That's something you won't hear much from me about when you are small, but it is something you should eventually know. We want to give you the whole world, but with these medical demands we've barely been making it. Your daddy told me that his daddy used to go tot work every day at 4:30 in the morning, but first he would kiss him on the head and tell him, "Daddy loves you, and so does Jesus." He never went a day not knowing how much he was loved. He says that no matter how much we have, we'll give you a life like that. You're gunna be loved, every day.

We also are trying to figure out where oh where we will live. We need to move but our lease isn't up til November. An awkward time because that is just two short months after you're due to arrive. Also, most apartments are gone by then. Prayin' for grace and help. There is so much to think about.

Seeing your healthy baby girl face and your sweet little hands and your (long!) active legs soothed some ache in my heart. It's nice to know after all these weeks that while we are still at a higher risk than other mommies and babies, we at least are not in the leakiest boat in the most violent storm. Things might actually be just fine. Now to figure out if we can fly or not. Just four more weeks of the school year, five weeks of summer and a couple weeks back home. And you'll be here.

rant.

one more week til we hit the six month mark. i can't believe how fast time is flying. starting to waddle, and your dad thinks it's pretty amusing. a common thing to hear at our house is, 'hey, Waddle." :)

over the weekend i experienced what normal must feel like. for the first time in quite a while i was relatively anxiety-free. i wasn't worried about who from home is angry or hurt by me not keeping in better touch, i wasn't worried about what your papa might be thinking of me, i wasn't worried about if the people i work with think i am a good enough 'Christian'or if i was failing miserably at my job. i wasn't even really worried about diabetes and money and how everything has panned out with healthcare here. (all the things that normally plague my mind.) i felt content. no bitterness, no envy. no restlessness.

today, little dearie, is another story. today is a special kinda day. the kind of day where every crying three year old and every ounce of spilled glue makes me feel more and more like a pot that is about to boil over. it feels like every nerve is exposed and everything that brushes against me could make me come undone. since this raw on edge-ness is probably just 'hormones', i want it to feel as simplified as that word. 'hormones' is a euphemism for "you think you are surely losing your mind, but the reality which you cannot possibly see, and which will not make you feel any better whatsoever, is that you are not."

when you are a foreigner living in china and you are pregnant, EVERY SINGLE person feels it is their duty to point out what you are obviously not aware of: you are pregnant. being pregnant at home probably makes a woman the target of lots and lots of unwarranted advice too, but HERE the culture difference literally makes you appear to be doing EVERYTHING wrong.

i, for example, should not be:
drinking cold water
swimming
running
walking swiftly
wearing tank tops
eating spicy food
eating watermelon
eating candy
standing in front of an air conditioner
eating so much
eating so little
eating anything fried
taking any sort of medicine whatsoever
wearing makeup
wearing earrings
wearing belts
wearing form fitting clothing
laying on my side
laying on my back
laying on my stomach
carrying anything
putting any pressure on my belly (sometimes i poke ya bc i want you to move)
using the computer
watching certain movies
watching television
standing directly in the sun
administering insulin directly into my belly
raising my hands above my head

also:
my belly should be much bigger by now,
my booty should be much smaller.

i know it comes from a good place. i know it does. i know it is not meant to offend and overwhelm me. but the 'hormones' combined with the constant comments on my physique and on my appetite or lack of is driving.me.crazy.

all this and a lack of actual contact with an actual doctor who cares about anything i have to say or am actually feeling in my actual body is driving me to the edge. i'm not stupid-- and most of the time, somewhere in my head, i know it's not entirely that personal.

i am also not neglectful; i live on the other side of the world and have a whole life going on here and i am busy being mine and my baby's own doctor. i am married. i am working full time with preschoolers. i am PREGNANT. i am TIRED. i don't do well with guilt. not lately, anyways. i don't want a guilt trip. i want a care package. or an acknowledgement of how well we have done adjusting to foreign life and marriage and pregnancy and new jobs and just making due without some essential medical things we have needed. i don't want ill timed advice. i do, sort of a lot today, want to scream.

i get to go home in 33 days, and then i will eat cottage cheese and peaches and whole wheat bagels with natural peanut butter and sunbathe and have all my medical supplies FINALLY, to my heart's content.

and that, little baby, was your first exposure to a rant.

24th

Today I am 24 years old and tomorrow we are 22 weeks. That means we're less than 18 weeks away from meetin you. We found out I have a rare blood type, so we are working on figuring out the safest place to have ya. There are only six weeks left of the school year but I am BURNT OUT. No  more creative teaching ideas, not much momentum. I am ready to just sleep and eat and swim and sleep and eat, and see the family. I'm also feeling anxious about flying internationally while being supa pregnant with you, and knowing that when I get back you will be on your way a month later. I'm missing my daddy a lot lately, so I am looking forward to spending some time with him, but then I am feeling emotional about being away from your papa for 5 weeks. I'm feeling emotional about everything, actually. Everything makes me cry lately; the slightest things hurt my feelings. I think this is how I know you are a little girl.

 Your daddy and I walked around after my birthday dinner tonight and stopped in a children's store. There were little baby dresses and headbands. We gravitate toward polka dots and greens. Touching the little baby trinkets made it seem a little more real; we weren't browsing for ourselves; we had you in mind. That's what our lives will be like now.

I wonder who you will look like. You've got some good genes in you, ya know. The Hardells and the Richburgs alike are some good looking people. In about a week we'll get a 3/4d ultrasound done, and know for sure how you're doing in there. This whole thing has been a waiting game; that makes me emotional too; a little helpless, a little resentful of the way China does things. But maybe while we're checking out your kidneys, we'll get a good look at your face next week, if the doctor let's us.

Overall these days I feel torn. I am grateful and at times joyful over our life here, over the friends we have made. The cross cultural exchanges are what make living here the most worth while (even if they are sometimes a bit insulting.) A Chinese friend of mine is teaching me a bit of Mandarin, and I wonder all the time about her future-- what Jesus might have for her. Maybe I can be a part of it. I also know that financially it is completely prudent for us to be here....But I do ache for family, especially now. I wonder about our future too, yours and mine and your papa's...What will we end up doing in China in the long run? What do I want to do when I grow up? I never really got around to answering that question...Your dad tells me to dream, and to write and to sing, and finish school if I want to. Maybe I will. It all sounds so daunting, especially school. Thinking about returning to an area in which you failed, or didn't even fail, just laid down and gave up, is scary. I wish I was more brave. Being your mama makes me want to be brave.

Anyway little lady. Thanks for the birthday kicks today. I have been begging you to move more lately, and those flutters were my favorite gift today :)

love mama.

baby girl.

Eisley Eleanore~ 

Baby girl!! You're our baby girl. We had an emergency ultrasound yesterday after work at a new hospital, because I hadn't felt you moving for a few days. There you were, all girl, moving like normal, and there was your heart beat, pumpin away. You're beautiful. 

I was floored because I have been offhandedly calling you a 'he' the past few weeks and have felt so  convinced you were a boy. We have another appointment Monday morning for a 4d ultrasound to look atchya in even more detail. It will be sort of hilarious if all of a sudden you're a boy again. We'll see. Either way. Like we've been saying all along. Either way :) 

<3 we love you bird. Can't wait to kiss those lil hands and squeeze that lil body. 

19 weeks

Dear birdy,

Today we’re 19 weeks, and I don’t feel like doing much of anything. I’m not sure how truly difficult pregnancies go, but in the past two weeks you’ve given me a pinched nerve, a  numb left leg, lots of reasons to vomit, and a tummy that let’s say, just won’t ‘go’. I’ve been getting emotional a lot intermittently for no rational reason, and the song “That’s my Daughter” made me cry today. We still don’t know for sure what you are yet, but I’ve been calling you ‘him’…”I can’t wait to meet him…” “I wonder what he looks like…” “I just felt him move…” They say your movements should occur right after I eat and right as I am settling into bed at night, but I feel like you wanna talk to me all the time. You’re kicking me now, even. It’s very subtle but I can just picture you floatin around in there with your feet over your head, discovering your toes. I love you so much.

Dad and I have been reading a book on French parenting. Not that we want to be French exactly, but we do want you to sleep through the night as soon as possible. It turns out it’s not as impossible as we all think. The book is written by an American mom living and raising her three kids in France. It’s kind of refreshing to read a book about an expat, ‘cause accept it or not, that is what we are! It has taken us a few months to get acclimated and build a functional life here, but we’re doing it, for the most part. Granted, she is in a European country, with endless cheese and bread at her disposal, but the feeling of isolation and the hiccups of frustrating days still apply. Sometimes I see pregnant ladies I know from home on Facebook and I have to fight the feelings of despondency. I am out of most of the makeup I like to use, and these hormones have really given me a fresh reason to cover up, but at this point Maybelline would do. Tonight I am craving cheese and crackers and Mango juice, but those items are a bit out of our budget this month. I am in desperate need of a Target trip.

On a very bright note, your Aunt Sarah and your Aunt Stephanie sent your papa home with lots of cute maternity clothes for me, and last week our friend Jenny gave me a big bag, too. So, I have been feeling much cuter and less behemoth-ish lately. I actually have no idea if I am gaining the right amount of weight. My tummy is stretching outward like a little watermelon but everything else looks basically the same.  I’ve been trying to exercise and do strength training a few times a week so that having you will be as smooth as possible, and so that I can heal fast and keep up with all o’ your needs after you get here, but sleepiness has sure slowed me down! If it weren’t for wrinkle free skin and the baby bump, I’d be mistaken for a little old lady around here.

After we thought we lost you, and possibly lost your brother or sister, and then found out we still had you, I basically panicked. All my thoughts were deeply laden with worry. About the diabetes, about being in China, about not knowing if I would get the right care, or what sort of care I should be getting in the first place. And then there was the matter of our apartment. It just seemed inconceivable to me to have a little tiny you in this little tiny place. We don’t have a western toilet, and even though we have our house cleaned twice a week, we still struggle with roaches. I would love to bring you into a roach free world, and maybe a world with a bathtub. I started planning our move to a new ‘baby appropriate’ apartment, as though it were a given that this place just won’t do. Somewhere in there the phrase “starter home” settled over my brain, and I realized that I was acting pretty spoiled, ‘in the name of my baby’. I remembered that most families don’t start out with their ideal home. The thing is, our apartment is not bad at all. I wish we had some natural light, I wish we were not on the second (smelly) floor, I wish we had a tub and a western toilet and that we would never see another roach again, but here we are. Accepting that it would be wiser to stay here has caused me to look at our place with appreciation and possibilities. The China Ikea website has helped my outlook a lot, too.

Your pappy’s takin on lots of extra work for us, and that’s pretty great. I miss him when he goes to tutor in the evenings but I definitely agree that absence makes the heart grow fonder. You’ll learn lots of cliché phrases when you get out here with the rest of us. But remember that just because it’s cliché doesn’t make it any less true! This way we can buy you a nice crib to do your sleepin and some nice diapers to do your…other business.

Well I should probably go. The apartment has taken on a China smell and I need to go cover it with a fresh layer of Glade.

iluhyou. Keep up all this crazy kicking and growing you’ve been up to! Mom’s proud. 

curses and praise

Today was another day in which I cursed t1 diabetes. Mostly for you. I don't feel great either but I can usually handle that fine...Today we came to Guanjhou for an Ikea trip and I ran out of insulin. I remembered to pack extra test strips and juice in case of a low. I forgot the extra insulin in my other purse. Brilliant. I took the four units that remained, (relieved that I hadn't eaten yet today and my last check was normal), ate a salad and vegetable soup for lunch, and prayed that we would be fine for just a few hours.

45 minutes later my blood sugar reading was over 200 and I decided I needed to take the train home early. I got lost, wandered into a global doctor, asked about their insulin and ultrasounds, and got directions to the train station. An hour later I found the right line. A very long line. My eyes and hands were hurting, I was feeling nauseated and worrying about you, and was not feeling too gracious toward the overcrowding of a Chinese city. (Terrible smells, smoke being blown in your face, being shoved CONSTANTLY as if no one can see you.) Decided to just wait for the others to finish shopping.

My eyes have welled up in anger and frustration a few times today that yet again diabetes was ruining things. "Costing too much. Changing my plans. Making me sick. Making you sick. Making me reliant on things that get stuck at the border in customs for MONTHS; making me reliant on things that I wait months for, which then break or dysfunction shortly after finally arriving. I do ALL I can do and somehow, I never seem to get a leg up. If only I'd remembered...How could I be so thoughtless? Why did we ever move here...Maybe this was a huge mistake....." Etc.

But I can't change it. I can correct it in a few hours and pray one more time that Jesus protects you. But that's it. If damage will be done, it's done.

So. I just sucked it up. No tears rolled down my face today. They welled up with my bitter thoughts, and then dissipated. Because really, what else could I do?

I could do this. I could pray. This is what I prayed: "Jesus, please teach my heart to praise and trust, and not to curse and cry. Amen."

movin and shakin

I got to see you again yesterday. The Chinese doctor always tells me I don't need to come so often, but I get anxious. I have only had ultrasounds, no real prenatal appointments. I am going to rectify that soon! There is a global doctor here that I am going to try to see this week. We'll see what they have to say about you and me.

I wanted to try and see if you are a boy or a girl, but the 4d machine was broken. I still am thinking you are a boy. The ultrasound tech had a hard time getting a good picture of you because you would NOT be still!! You are a mover and a shaker! It's really fun to see you move on the screen, and I am beginning to think that when I can finally feel you I am in for it!

Today I am feeling GREAT!! The flu and the majority of the coughing I've had for the past 6 weeks are finally passing. I took a four hour nap after chattin with your papa online and woke up feeling brand new. SO I started a new workout regimen that involves a lot of bouncing around and 'shaking it'- I feel it is appropriate what with your apparent hyper-active personality :) Hopefully your mama worked off some of the potato chips I opened in the middle of the grocery store and proceeded to stuff my face with in an animalistic hunger-craze. I have been trying to make the best nutritional choices I can in China. You really help in that endeavor. Any pizza or potato chips I eat haunt my thoughts because I picture you snackin on empty carbs and it makes me pretty sad. So anywho- sorry for the sour cream and onion :/ I'll try harder the rest of the week! (This probably means that I should give away the mini cheesecake I bought on that same shopping trip.) I just want to be healthy and not gain forty five pounds while I'm bakin' you and give you the best of my food options.

Your daddy comes home in 4 days!! Pretty excited about that. (If for no other reason, so that he can clean out the fridge. I can't stomach some of those unidentifiable items.)

xoxo

16 weeks.

goin on sixteen weeks bebedoll.  you are getting bigger and so am i! most of my pre-you clothes don't fit me anymore. we're in China so 'real' maternity pants aren't much of an option for me right now. Instead I have been using the old hair-tie trick. Looping a hair band through my pants button hole and around the button to give myself just a liiiitle more wiggle room. Thankfully your papa's a real sweetie and has let me do some light shopping for some tops that cover than more than a little awkward wide open zipper. :) It's so fun to wake up in the mornings and realize that you grew a little more while I was sleepin'.


we've been discussing sendin' you and I back to the states for the rest of these nine months. We just think you might need a special doctor after you are born, and that mama needs a high risk pregnancy doctor before you come. Don't worry, we'll figure it all out.


Your dadders is in America for about 2 weeks. I have been a little bit weepy and sad about it, but since you're in my belly I kinda just blame it on you ;) Trust me when I say he is quite a good papa to you already, and I just miss him. I've been very sick for a few days now. I had a bad cold (I think I complained about it to ya last month) that lasted about 3 weeks, which was closely followed by a flu. Aches, shivers, coughing and a stuffy nose. While it makes me a little more sad to not have your dad around, (his hugs are pretty comforting, you'll see) you and I have been sleeping an awful lot, so that makes the time pass a smidge faster.


Anyways....just wanted to pop in and congratulate you on making it to sixteen weeks. This means next week I may be able to find out if you're a little Eisley Eleanor or a little Silas Van. Hopefully you show us the goods in your ultrasound ;) Either way I'm gunna snuggle you like crazy. Whatever you are, sick or perfectly healthy, agile or special needs, extremely shy or totally funny. You're OURS and we just adore ya.

love you snugglebug.

14 weeks

hello, baby bump! this pic was about five days ago and you and i are already bigger. impressive. 

my least glamorous moment

My early morning special:

Low blood sugar, full bladder, and morning sickness, all at once. I  mean REALLY, which one do I try and solve first? If I go for the bladder, then I risk throwing up. If I go for the blood sugar, then I risk throwing up. If I go for solving the morning sickness, (like trying to eat somethin with protein, or some crackers or something) then, well, I risk throwing up. Usually I end up throwing up anyways, so lately I've been emptying my bladder and then racing to the kitchen to bring up my low blood sugar. Sophisticated, huh?

Well. That is nothing in comparison with what I like to call my Least Glamorous Moment.

It occurred at around 2 am yesterday. Let me preface this by explaining a couple things. First, somethin' about pregnancy, of which no one really seems to see the importance of informing you, is the Lack of Bladder Control. As someone who has just recently developed kidney function, you can probably totally see what a big deal this is. It seems like it's something they'd include under the list of Things You're Going to Hate, along with hemorrhoids and nausea and weight gain. But. Whatever.

The other thing you should know is that I have had a cough lately that has to resemble something seen in ancient times, when there was no cough medicine, and you could straight up die from a cold. It's awful, and ugly, and impressive with its powers. Even sans morning sickness, this thing has had me "gripping the toilet bowl", as it were. We don't have an actual toilet bowl, but there's the picture I'm trying to paint. It's BAD. Bruised ribs bad.

And at 2 am, it reached its full potential. I woke up in a start, coughing those body wracking coughs, sprang to the end of the bed to find my 'bucket', (ew, sorry.) and found myself in fetal position on the floor, hacking and yacking, hacking and yacking, and yes. Peeing.
Peeing like an untrained puppy. Peeing like one of my preschoolers
And when I could catch my breath a bit, crying. CRYING.

(needless to say: we've been doing a lot of laundry around here.)

It's now my theory that before one gives birth to their baby, they themselves are the baby. That's not grammatically correct but it is is true, I think, and maybe I should invest in some big people diapers.

That's all I wanted to tell you about, I guess. OH, except that when you are my 'kid' and you get sick, you are STAYING HOME. I blame my student's parents for this havoc being wreaked. Honestly, if your child SNEEZES and what resembles BITS OF HIS BRAIN come out, for the love of anything, ever. Keep him home.

Even you have that much sense, don't you?

Love you baby.

OH (another OH), I also wanted to tell you that at the ultrasound Tuesday, I thought you looked like a boy. Not that I could 'see' anything, I just really thought you looked like a boy. Probably silly. But it's worth mentioning because I have formerly been a strong team-pink-er, and thought I'd be a bit bummed if we weren't having a girl. But when I thought you were a boy for a second, I got really really happy. Turns out I love n' adore you no-matta-what.

Those are good odds :)

Love,
Mama

13 weeks!!!

Here you are!!!!

ten fingers

ten toes

good lookin' spine

big ol fetus brain.

so far, so good.

and i got to see you wrigglin' and wigglin' and waving your arms around. it looked pretty fun. you're really starting to look like a baby, baby. 

<3

dinner time

What I wish I was eating...Strawberry and chocolate milk shake. French fries. Maybe some french fries dipped in strawberry and chocolate milk shake.
What I am eating: grilled chicken and scrambled egg. Grapes. Orange juice.

Here's to good decisions for your little fetus self.

Like our dreams Like our lives

Wiped the lipstick from my mouth

Took my mama’s diamond earrings out

Laid the dress out on the bed

Laid my head on your chest

Remember we said we were gonna live forever

And we would paint over the writing on the wall

Chase that sunset till we’re blind

Then wake up to find

We are only human after all

We are only human after all

 Staring out across the lake

That horizon’s turning red and grey

Watch the waves as they fall and rise

Like our dreams like our lives

Remember we said we were gonna live forever

And we would paint over the writing on the wall

Chase that sunset till we’re blind

Then wake up to find

We are only human after all

I heard this song again today and it made me think of your dad and i. our one year weddin' anniversary is coming up. we got engaged in Ohio on our first real date and three days later we got married in Virginia. A few weeks later we had a really charming backyard wedding in June, and I moved from California to VA to live with your daddy. I can honestly say that those six weeks were the happiest I have ever been. We've been happy since then, but it was just him and I and I feel like I've never been more myself. Or more accepted. We went down to visit FLorida family after that for a few weeks, before we moved our lives out to China. It's hard to believe that all this started not even a year ago. It hadn't really started, anyways. Last March I was in love. and scared. and then I saw your daddy and I wasn't scared anymore. Looking over all the change in one year, and now your impending life, it's crazy. it's overwhelming. it's too much, really, I can't believe it was me, leaping like that. Even now....If I was alone and about to be a mama....But then I look at your dad again. And he makes me brave. 

Getting on all those planes, I really felt like I could do anything. "Chase the sunset til we're blind..." We are human, and we are feeble. But my dreams aren't fading. They're just beginning. 

middle of the night sickness.

2-5 am seems to be your prime. you're nearly the size of a lemon (and we're nearly at 13 weeks together) and here's the deal. the middle of the night is when you like best to remind you of your existence.
it seems like every time i brag that the nausea and sickness is passing, i wake up between 2 and 5 am, sick as a dog. i know i talk to you about this a lot, but it's our first trimester together, and it's been sorta like a dark cloud of nausea and the i-wanna-crawl-in-a-dark-dark-hole feeling. oh, you know that feeling? it's probably pretty dark in there where you are...ha.ha....mom's funny.

but really. looking over the past three months really is like staring into fog and darkness, in which lots of moaning and puking took place. it's blackness with hints of light, like when i heard your heartbeat after i thought you were gone from me. THAT was crazy cool. it sounded like galloping horses. multiple galloping horses. i think you were probably showing off cause it was the first time we heard you, and you were kinda like "DUDES i have been trying to tell you I'M STILL HERE. why else do you think you've had your face in a squatty potty for the last week and a half? Duh doi."

anywho. i'm here in our freezing apartment with yet another i-got-sneezed-on-a-lot-this-week cold. i started coughing in the middle of the night and felt your papa roll over and start rubbing my back. you don't know this yet but back pats and rubs are the epitome of instant-comfort. then the nausea hit like a real bad thunder storm so i think i'm green in the face right now, and super happy it's 3 am and dark in the world. (ie no one can see how lovely i am.)  i discovered i can make toast in our make shift oven. (un-toasted bread freaks me out since you came along. what? you tell me.) so toast, peanut butter, and banana slices again. so grateful those three staples in the world of surviving morning/middle of the night sickness are on the affordable list in China. otherwise i might be stuck eating rice and some kinda fish....and even saying that to you was a mistake. sorry. i'll go back to meditating about dark holes to crawl in, and acceptable foods, like apple slices.

you're kinda puttin' me through hell but they say that might be the sign of a healthy pregnancy, so i guess, keep it up? love you anyways!

night babers.

cheerios.

up at 2 am with mild nausea...last night i dreamt of a bowl of cheerios and a cut up banana, and then day-dreamt of it all day. so. here i am. downing a bowl of honey nut, banana slices, and the first brand of milk i've liked in china since being pregnant. (possibly because it tastes like bananas.) and i'm chanting in my mind, "please oh please oh please oh please, no vomiting in the morning." here's to keeping it away with potassium power!!

fingers crossed.

purple fuzzy flowers

your pops just came home with a bundle full of flowers. told you he likes us ;)
(just so you know. sometimes i look more decent than this.)

sometimes i'm afraid.

so here is the truth of the matter.

yesterday, i slept from the moment i walked in the door, until well after the cows came home.

in case that equation is too tricky, it estimates roughly 15 hours of sleep.

having a head cold, and crazy-mean-violent-monster morning sickness, and diabetes creates quite a walking disaster.

last night your daddy went out to buy us some more test strips to check my blood sugar. been doing an awful lot of that these days. some days i am only positive and hopeful. other days, like when a throat infection causes crazy blood sugar readings, i can't really hide the worried-sick-feelings.

did i ever tell you that you're already a miracle? we thought we lost you there for a hot minute. there was bad, sharp, deep, cramping and lots of painful bleeding, and tissue loss, and i thought i saw you come out.

i cried. a lot. and wept and cried some more. and your daddy lit candles so the light would be soothing and played sweet worship music and i cried and wept and cried. and i took about a hundred showers that week. and i threw up a lot, because, ugly detail as it is, the mornin' sickness was still in full swing. and i laid on the couch in heaps of blankets and hardly slept. and then around the fourth day i started to paint.

somewhere in all the sleeplessness and heart ache, i dozed off and dreamt of you. i dreamt i was standing in an overgrown field, and i was frantically searching for something. i had grips and grips of tall grass in my fists, and i was dirty, and tired, i could feel it, and i had been weeping- my face was swollen with grief. i was saying "where are you...?" then all around me the wind picked up, and hundreds of dandelions with it, and they all swirled and drifted away, toward the sky.

that was the first thing i painted. i painted you, in those dandelions, my little dandelion child, and the devastation i felt that week is living solid proof of the deep meaning in your life. you were meant for life. you were meant for me, because as it turns out, the answer to my question was RIGHT HERE. you were still right here, living in me, with every odd against you.

the doctor described you in broken english as, "so strong."

strength in a little, fragile, baby bird.

anyway. i wish that was enough to put every fear to silence. you have already lived when you should not have; you must be super-human-viking baby. but i know that you are still so small. and so reliant on me. and so reliant on my body. and my body is so feeble, sweet baby...my body can in one moment and one change of condition, become toxic for you. it's a painful awareness...

yesterday some sharp pains came back, like the ones i had before. those were a major contributor to the straight to bed strategy. i love you, painful amounts, and those pains reminded me that we are not out of the woods yet.

i just keep doing my best. pricking and poking away. you were not planned, little one. i mean, you were planned before time started and all the days on earth got rollin', you just weren't in MY plans. which makes this type 1 diabetes, foreign country, pregnant mommy thing a whole lot trickier. diabetic mamas are supposed to plan. painstakingly. far in advance. so i have fear about that, too...i wonder how your lungs are looking in there, and your tiny eyes, and your spine and your brain that will one day think up brilliant, amazing things. i worry about you. As your mama, I want my womb to be the safest place you could ever be. It is painful for me to know that it is not; that as such a tiny size you could be suffering.


¹ O LORD, You have searched me and known me. 
² You know when I sit down and when I rise up; 
You understand my thought from afar. 
³ You scrutinize my path and my lying down, 
And are intimately acquainted with all my ways. 
⁴ Even before there is a word on my tongue, 
Behold, O LORD, You know it all. 
⁵ You have enclosed me behind and before, 
And laid Your hand upon me. 
⁶ Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; 
It is too high, I cannot attain to it.

i think of Him protecting you inside that place of 'protection.' Protecting you from what should have protected you, but because of fallen nature and a fallen body, can't really do it's full job. 

i love you tiny one. your heavenly father loves you; and i just wanted to let you know that however you come out, you're already a totally mind blowing miracle. 

xo,

mama