Tuesday, March 25, 2014

A girl.

When they told us we were pregnant back in 2010 it confirmed what I doubted all those years. It even confirmed what I had doubted over the previous 48 hours. The only thing I could think of was, "is this real?" "Are they sure!" So when they told us it was twins, that was it, you could have just closed this book, I was happy for a lifetime. But when they said,"we see a third." That was a game changer. 

I've said on this blog before that while we always wanted three babies- our plan was to have them like everyone else does, one at a time. The quality of our embryos were not great. In fact the third one was dying and not freezable. So when we were finally told at 10 weeks that it was in fact triplets I of course started having thoughts like, " whew, ok, we're pregnant and while I don't feel out of the woods and I don't really want to celebrate- "but honey, do you think there's a girl in there? "

I'm a little embarrased to admit it but I was one of those girls that said the whole, " oh we don't care, as long as their healthy!" But to be honest, I secretly wanted one girl. Yes I wanted the whole dress my girl up stage, the mother of the bride stage, the best friend stage- but deep down I knew this would probably be the only time I was pregnant and this shot was my only one. 

So on week 12, we went for our bi-weekly specialist appointment. When the tech came in and did the ultrasound I almost couldn't take the suspense. I had a gut the night before and told whit on a whim that it was "two boys and a girl." I've never been right about anything in my life so I didn't put too much weight in that.

The tech said well baby A is a boy. She then worked pretty hard to see B.  Keep in mind that all this mashing on my stomach has almost made me hurl. I was pretty much surviving on watermelon and grapefruit juice and the morning sickness was more like all day sickness. She finally worked her way to baby C and we were about to explode out of the room when she said, "well!!, it's a girl!" 



There are two times in my life that I thought I would cry and didn't. This was one of them. The other was my wedding day. Both days I was so elated with joy that I had this ridiculous smile plastered across my face. The one where one of those pageant girls is riding in the back of a mustang convertible at a parade doing that fake wave. That was me. Iremember texting my close friends and family the iPhone emoticons of two boys and a princess. I remember yelling " I told you!" to whit, like he had ever disagreed with me. 
So there it was. We were having triplets, and one was a girl. And grace would be a part of her name. 

 I'm writing this tonight because lately that girl has been my hard one. She works herself up during the bedtime  routine and it's so hard on this momma. She likes to ask for 1,021 things to avoid bedtime and guess who trots around the house trying to please her every command? Yep. Me. 



The boys are perfect at bed and ask for nothing other than a prayer or a back tickle. She has trained me to put sticker earrings on her, perfectly place 5 blankets on her, pat her, get all of her ponies in the crib, pray over her and tell her what's for breakfast and sing about 6 songs and tell her about every charm on my necklace. It's a circus and I'm the lead act. 



She's sensitive, she's caring, she notices things I wouldn't guess an almost three year old would. She's kind, smart, strong and beautiful. And with all that chaos at bedtime I'm working on some solutions but tonight- I'm not all that worried about it- I'm just thankful for that one girl. 


Thursday, March 20, 2014

I remember

I remember the day we found out we were pregnant. I remember the day we found out it was twins. I remember the day they told us there were three. I remember the day the doctors told us we would be delivering these three tiny babies 11 weeks too soon. I remember the night the neonatologist came in our room and told us how sick our babies were. I remember the way the nurses looked at me when I came in with warm brownies only to be told Becker was in real trouble. I remember when they told me his numbers weren't improving. I remember the phone ringing at 2:33 am and the neonatologist on the other end of the phone telling me to come to the hospital that Gianna was really sick. I remember rocking those babies begging God not to take them from me. Not then, not ever. 


I remember bringing them home and feeling like we had beat all the odds. I remember carrying bags that had heart monitors attached to my babies. I remember the alarms on the bags going off, just when we relaxed, to remind us that "nothing" was certain. I remember hand washing being crucial to a visit in our house. I remember my friends being afraid to hold my tiny babies. 

I remember finding out the role the march of dimes played in their lives- completely behind the scenes. I remember when my job came up and the opportunity it afforded me to tell my story. I remember how I felt the first time I visited the NICU after taking this job. Knowing exactly want these families needed and the common thread we shared. 

I remember what our first year of having a family team meant to me and how raising money for a cause that changed our path, changed our story- could change me. 

I hope you will join us in marching to help all babies. The ones born too soon, the ones born with a heart defect, the ones born right on time and perfectly healthy- MOD is touching all babies. Let's give them a healthy start. 

Happy Wednesday friends. 

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

"Where's Cooper Mommy?"

Gg came into our room last night when we were getting ready to go on our date night. She grinned at me and said, "mommy, where's cooper?" Before I could answer she said, " he's sick, he's with Jesus." I was glad she answered for me because I wasn't sure how to answer. I laughed a little because the sting wasn't so bad coming from her sweet self. I immediately asked alissa if she told her that and alissa smiled and said yes. I liked that when gg told me, she was so confident that Jesus had Cooper.


This week has been weird. In the middle of the night I'm not carefully stepping over a sleeping dog, we are not up and down 15+ times letting him out to potty and I'm not awakened by him snoring. When I get out of the shower, he isn't tap dancing on the concrete floors in the bathroom and he isn't waiting for me to leave the shower door open so he can drink the water. It's been sad. Lonely.

Whit keeps confirming that we did the right thing and that he went so peacefully because he was beyond ready- but I of course struggle with the balance of a full life and the responsibility of ending one. 

Ouch. 

When they put him to sleep, we were in the room. He put his head in my hands and I rubbed his ears. We cried as he drifted off. I was reminded of those days in my mid twenties when we got him. We weren't married. We barely had stable jobs and we were already taking on more than we could handle. Cooper was our second dog and we felt Colby needed a playmate. We were determined and committed to the life of these dogs. I'm proud that his life was a full one.

He was a super friendly puppy but as he got older we were certain that something went wrong. We speculated that a utility worker or a neighbor in our old neighborhood hit him or was mean to him in some way. He quickly became introverted, shy and growled at strangers. He never bit anyone but was scary if approached. Whit struggled with this. He took him everywhere in hopes to pull him out of this. Cooper never really came around. He was scared of strangers and we joked that he had amnesia because just when you thought he knew you- he would forget and bark and growl.

Cooper was a very, very smart Lab. He would swim for hours without a break. He would pull you to the side if you pretended you were drowning. He was faithful, he was loving and he really was man's best friend. 

The last few years were tough. He was in pain due to severe arthritis. He was grumpy because, well, he was fourteen. He had accidents often and couldn't decide if he wanted to be inside or out. We waited too long. That's my fault. I selfishly wanted him to, stay. 

I think gg is right. He's with Jesus. Why do I miss all the things I found so annoying, just last week? 

I've decided that as we get older the desire to get more pets lessens with the more responsibilities we have. Kids demand our attention and with work and life- there is little left over. But this week I've decided it's less about that and more about the fact that there are pets in your life that can't be replaced.

Have a good spring break everyone. 

Sunday, March 2, 2014

A Joyful Mother with Children

Lately I haven't really felt like blogging. I don't know if the words haven't come to mind or if what we've been doing has just been the day to day but nothing has really struck me as - OH I GOTTA WRITE ABOUT THIS! 



But today we were in church and the sermon was sort of all over the place- it was all good places and a much needed message about trusting in his plan but towards the end he made mention of a psalm verse that in all those down on my knees moments of asking for a baby- I never once read this verse. He was speaking to me. And today in church He made me smile. 
Psalm 113:9
9     God nests the once barren woman at home— now a joyful mother with children! Praise the Lord!

I think I smiled mostly because I felt God tapping me on the shoulder and saying, "hey, see what I did there? Tell your friends!" He answers. Maybe not in our time and maybe not exactly what we ask, but He answers and I am so glad to be one of His children.

We had a wonderful weekend. It was filled with a relaxing (and crying)Saturday at the zoo and viteks and margaritas at chuys and a stop at ninfas after church. A few big naps, a cold snap, a girls night out birthday celebrating our sweet Amy Murphy and chili by the fire tonight, to bundle it all up perfectly. 















I am in the countdown once again of a major event and every single day has to be full of making things happen. I also plan on squeezing in two dates with the boys in march. Gg and I went to the egg and I & Barnes and Noble for hers. It was perfect and she thought she was a singleton. :) 
Happy Sunday Friends. Stay warm! 


Saturday, February 15, 2014

He taught me how to roar.

Becker has been doing this thing where he chases you from room to room, lowers his whole body, angles his jaw towards the ground and says "ROAR" in his best scary voice. I absolutely love it. Riggs has been wanting all things chicken. He says chicken about 100 times a day, only wants to eat chicken at meal time and wants to pretend he is selling chicken on his play McDonald's cash register. Chicken. Gianna has been bossing the boys around a lot and wanting to be held or pushed in the stroller 100%of the time- no exceptions. 






These might seem like every day occurences to you but for me they are THE details. Details that in 6 months will seem so insignificant but they are huge in our everyday . They are the lines on my page. They are the memories that make really hard days, a snap. They are the details that make me weep when they fade and when the kids stop doing them.









We went to Chicago on my birthday. Whit's was valentines, so we sort of did a work/ bday combo. It was so good to get away, recharge and celebrate our birthdays together. Work has been super busy so finding time to feed our relationship has been hard. When we're together I'm always like, "we have to do this every week!" And then it's like another month or two and I'm like, "wait! We have to do this every week!"


Time flies and details slip away. I often forget big details, when birthday parties and showers are-and my outlook calendar has been shutting down from memory overload. So along with some healthier eating, on Monday I'm going to be sprucing up my calendar and being intentional about setting aside some key time for solo dates with the kids and my hubs......because who wouldn't want to carve out time for some of this}}}}
I don't want to forget one single detail. Not even how to roar.....

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Every little thing...is gonna be alright

I've started this post and stopped it about 111 times. Md Anderson felt like weeks and it was only days. Mema wasn't herself and if you were about to remove my bladder I think it's fair to say, I wouldn't be either. I selfishly fought my mind over and over in the weeks leading up to surgery day. I kept thinking how she wouldn't be able to lead this full life and how she wouldn't be able to hold two of the triplets without batting an eye. I kept holding onto all the what ifs we let our brains latch on to. I kept turning my head away from her when she would talk about it all. Trying to avoid her asking for my opinion.

The week before her surgery I noticed I was doing that weird thing I do when I ignore the elephant in the room. I knew she needed to see me smile and tell her it would all be good. I wanted to believe it as much as she wanted to hear it and decided lunch would make it less awkward. We went to dee's, her favorite. She made me laugh for a solid hour and I saw this beautiful woman who I wasn't ready to see go, anywhere. This woman who raised me. This strong woman who I've only see cry three times in my whole life(I cried three times last week).  I knew in that moment- the surgery was the best answer. I was at peace with her decision and with the odds we were given. I was giving it to him- all of it. 

The night before surgery I made her take this selfie with me. 

She loves selfies so it was easy. She was cool and calm. I was full of fear and terror and she all but held my hand and said it was all gonna be okay. Or course she did. She was always in charge of our relationship and our big family- why would the next day be any different. 

The night was long, no one slept and at about 3:30 am, she told me she was at total peace and was fine with the plan. We left for the hospital at 4:30am. 



The day was long and we finally got to see her doctor about 2:30 and her at about 4:30. She was great. She looked good. I left the next day for a work meeting in college station then on to Waco to see my babies. My family stayed behind and did round the clock days/nights in the hospital. They were tired and weary but kept a constant flow of pics and good news coming our way. 

She came home this past Sunday and since then she has been recovering, sleeping, doing a little rehab exercising, eating well and loving on all of us. 

I can't wait to report in a few weeks that she is back to her old routine and requesting chicken salad and a dp. Thanks for all of your support of our family with the calls, texts, messages, meals, flowers and prayers. Those prayers carried us last week and they continue to cradle us each day and night.

She's a fighter and we are grateful to have been shown this path and to be where we are.

Oh, and Riggs is happy his Mema pat is home and they all can't believe kk has been gone so long!






Happy Tuesday, friends.