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Mom, this book is an easy read!  Can I borrow your Twilight book?

Maddison wore this outfit for her 6 month pics.  America is wearing it at 4 months!

I love this outfit!  I was able to put it on her on one of those rare warm days in November here in Ohio.  She’ll probably never get to wear it again now that it is cold enough to start snowing!

Like my new set up?  I am learning a lot about portion control with this Nutrisystem plan!  I decided to start portioning out the kids’ snacks into snack bags so I can teach them something about portion control and healthy choices too!  I let them choose one snack bag in the pantry a day.  Then their other snack has to be a fruit, veggie, and/or cheese/dairy product!

Another view.  Mini rice cakes, cheeze its, raisins, preztels, Pringles stix, and goldfish crackers.

Kelly with her snack bag.

Madison with her snack bag.  Raisins!  Raisins!  I want raisins!

Isn’t she so cute?

My little cuddle bug.  Look at those long toes!  She gets them from me. 🙂

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After taking some time to monitoring the baby, I was allowed to take the monitor and spandex belt off.  If I remember right, we were still being monitored when my doula arrived and boy was I relieved.  She told me my other doula was going to try to come, but her kids were very sick.  They were throwing up and had diarrhea.  “No!”  Scott and I both said.  The last thing we wanted was to expose our newborn to sickness!

So I just had one doula, the doula who is being mentored.  She knew some of the techniques that helped a laboring woman get through the intense contractions and she began to show them to me.  It wasn’t long after that when they moved me to the laboring room.  I have to admit I was relieved because then I knew I REALLY was in labor.  This baby really was going to be born soon! 

The room was huge and the nurse transfering me (while I lie on my bed) bragged that she got me into the “newest” room.  It certainly was new and very nice.  Flat screen tv, marble shower, hardwood floors.  It was beautiful.  There were plenty of chairs, a table, and a rocking chair in there also, but at that point, I was just happy to be in any room.  I was in pain. 

 

I tried a number of laboring positions, from leaning over the table/tray to sitting on the birthing ball.  At that point, I just wanted to stand up and lay my head on someone’sshoulders and breath as I rocked through the contractions.  The back pain was bad and it seemed that when someone would push into my back to relieve the back pain, my belly pain just got worse.  Eventually, the contractions became even more intense and I headed for the shower.  I sat on the ledge as my doula sprayed hot water on my belly.  It was amazing how much relief the water provided during the contractions.   I sat there for what seemed like forever, breathing through the contractions.  I kept my eyes closed most of the time not even noticing when someone switched out with my doula.  I didn’t even care how hot the water was.  When the nurse returned to my room to tell me we had to put the monitor back on, I nearly cried.  I hated that stupid spandex belt.  It made things worse.  But I complied.  I got out of the shower, dried off, and pulled the belt up over my body and onto my now red, water-burned belly.

I had the nurse check me again.  To my surprise, I’d progressed to 7.  Maybe this labor wasn’t going to last too long.  The pain was terrible, but as long as I could hang out in the shower, I thought I might be able to make it through.

But the contractions continued to get worse.  They monitored the baby and it seemed to take forever to get the readings they were looking for this time.  Of course, the baby was fine, so they  let me take the belt off again.  I headed back to my comfort zone – the shower.  But the contractions were getting worse and the shower didn’t provide nearly as much relief this time.  The night wore on and everything seemed a blur because all I could do was prepare myself for the next contraction.  I remember trying different positions in the shower, the back pain getting so intense, I hoped the hot water being sprayed on my back would help.

 

It didn’t.  I remember the nurse checking me again, I felt like I needed to push, like the baby was hitting my bottom.  It was not comfortable, no, it hurt.  I hadn’t progressed anymore, but the pain continued to increase. 

I was frustrated because I wasn’t progressing but the pain was getting so bad I was yelling and tensing up.  The shower no longer helped.  I remember being on my knees, thrashing my head back and forth in agony with each contraction.  I didn’t want to lay down, sit down, stand up.  I just wanted to get this baby out.  At one point, I apparently bit my husband on his chest.  This served as a humorous moment for my mom and Scott, which was good because they felt so helpless.  I didn’t remember biting him, until they told me about it later.  Then I remembered being in so much pain, I even stuck my own hand in my mouth to bite down. 

I was out of control.  I started crying to Scott, telling him I could not do this anymore.  “I can’t!  I can’t!”  I screamed.  Finally, the nurse talked to me.  She told me that it was possible that I was tensing up so much I was not allowing my body to progress.  I knew my next option was an epidural, but I did not want to do that.  I was afraid that if I agreed, I wouldn’t progress anymore and I’d end up with another C-Section.  Memories of my first labor experience haunted me.  It seemed things were following the same pattern. 

Scott and I talked, and finally, I knew I couldn’t take anymore.  I knew that I wasn’t progressing and I knew I was closing my body up every time a contraction came along.  So I agreed to an epidural, hoping I wouldn’t regret my decision later.  The nurse hooked up some fluids and told me I’d have to wait until the bag was empty before they could give me an epidural. I looked at her in dread.  “How long will that be?”  I asked.

She didn’t want to give me a time frame. She knew better.  Even 5 minutes would have been too long.  “Until it’s empty.”  She said, and then walked out. 

Finally the anesthesiologist walked in.  They made my mom and doula leave the room as she prepared to give me the epidural.  She started talking immediately, telling me the procedure.  When she told me that I would have to completely hold still during the contractions while she inserted the needle, I freaked.  “It could be dangerous for you and me.”  She said.

There was no way I could sit still.  I asked her how long it would take, she told me about 20 minutes.  20 minutes!?!  That’s like 10 contractions!  I looked at Scott and told him I didn’t know if I could hold still that long.  He assured me I could.  But as the contractions came, I couldn’t. 

The anesthesiologistrefused to do the epidural if I couldn’t sit still, and that was understandable.  I didn’t want her sticking a needle up my back if I couldn’t sit still either!   I asked her if she would give me just a contraction or two to practice being still, and if she would wait until the contraction was over before starting so I’d have one less contraction to endure.  She started packing up her supplies.  “I’ll tell you what.  When you make up your mind, call me.”  And walked out.  She was not a patient woman.  She wasn’t going to give me one contraction to breath through, to practice being still through, and she was not going to promise me that she’d wait through the end of a contraction before starting on my back.

I cried.  I told my nurse she was not a patient woman and I saw the look on her face.  She was pissed.  She agreed withme.  My mom and doula came in.  I guess when the anesthesiologist walked out, she smiled at them and said, “She changed her mind.”  Only my mom said it was almost a half-evil smile.  My doula called the other doula.  The other doula called her a real bitch.  She said she was like this to everyone…very difficult to work with and the nurses dreaded sharing the same shift with her.

I told Scott I didn’t want the epidural now, because I knew I couldn’t sit still.  But I couldn’t endure this pain either.  I was trapped.  He continued to talk to me, speak logic into my clouded mind.  “She’s not going to take any risks, Melissa.  This is her job, she knows better.  She will wait for you to get through the contraction.” 

Finally, I agreed to the epidural and while I waited for the “bitch” to come back, I practiced breathing through some contractions.  She came back in, again expressing the importance of being still.  While she prepared everything, I continued to practice breathing.  I had to sit on the edge of my bed and lean over, hunching my back good so she could see my spine.  I dug my foot under the bar on my bed and used that foot to brace myself through the contractions.  With the urge to move and sway, I pressed my toes up under the bar and pulled on it with my foot.  Doing this helped me remain still through the contractions.  I figured out a way to do this and she hadn’t even inserted the needle yet.  It turned out the 20 minutes she said I’d have to remain still, was only about 2, the actual time she took inserting the epidural.  The rest of the time, she was simply preparing, washing my back, taping the needle in place, etc.  “She COULD HAVE TOLD ME THAT.”  I thought.  For some reason I thought that the actual insertion was going to take 20 minutes, which was silly because I’ve had an epidural before.  But I just wasn’t thinking straight. 

Finally, relief.  My screaming and moaning (and biting) stopped.  I was able to relax.  I could still feel the contractions coming, but it was the pressure hitting my bottom I felt, as if my uterus was pushing the baby downwards.  It wasn’t comfortable, but certainly bearable.  The anesthesiologist returned to my room after a while and didn’t so much apologize, but told me she was proud of me and told me she wasn’t trying to be mean, she just wanted to make sure I didn’t get hurt.  At that moment, she could have been my best friend.  I didn’t care how rude and terrible she was during some of the most intense pain I’d ever experienced…I was finally experiencing some relief.  She walked out and told my mom I was a real “sweety.” 

Sometime during the night, and I don’t remember if it was before or after the epidural, my mom told me if I could just hold on a few more hours, I’d have the baby on her birthday.  I looked at her and said, “I don’t really care.”  She laughed at me.  Even though deep down inside I thought it would be extra special to have the baby on my mom’s birthday – the 4th of July, while she was here to witness the birth of her grandchild, I couldn’t help but wonder if this baby was ever going to be born!

For the next several hours, the nurse came in to check on me.  The spandex belt I grew to despise was already on me and the baby remained monitored since I was stuck in my bed.  Every couple hours, I was rotated from one side to another, lying a bit on my stomach.  These different positions continued to help me progress and try to get the baby to turn the right way, because the baby was face up and not wanting to turn. 

I tried to sleep the best I could, to get rested up so I would have the energy and strength to push.  I managed to sleep lightly, but woke up through most of my contractions, because I could still feel the pressure.  I remember Scott and my mom taking off for a while to get something to eat.  I remember the doula doing the same, and then returning before my mom and Scott and setting up the sofa seat for herself to sleep on.   This left a couple of chairs and a rocking chair for my mom and Scott to sleep on.  They came back and Scott had my mom sleep on the two chairs while he attempted to sleep on the rocking chair.  I remember thinking it was a bit strange she was taking the couch.  Wasn’t she supposed to be looking out for me and my husband?  But I was just too tired to say anything. 

The night progressed into the wee early hours of the morning and eventually Scott found his way to the floor.  I felt bad for him, wishing there was room on my bed to share.  Finally, the sun rose, and it was getting close to time for my doctor to come into the hospital to check up on me.  The good news was, I was progressing, and around 7-ish in the morning, I heard the even better news.  I was ready to start pushing! 

They sent the anesthesiologist in to turn my epidural down so I could feel what I needed to feel.  A quiet man walked in.  He wasn’t so very friendly either, but he wasn’t unpleasant, just quiet and serious.  He turned my epidural down, and I started pushing as we waited for the numbness to subside.  Finally, I had enough feeling in my legs to get up on my knees.  I leaned over the back of my bed and pushed from that position, letting gravity help me. 

I stayed this way until I felt I could do other, preferable positions.  I couldn’t wait to pull out the bar and start pushing in a squatting position.  To me, this seemed an even more natural way to push.  I pushed for a while as the nurse and doctor checked my progress.  They told me I was doing a great job pushing.  That made me feel good, like I was doing my job.  Even with the epidural, I was strong enough. 

 

The baby was still facing up and my doctor came in and said he wanted to try to turn the baby’s head.  I agreed, knowing it would be easier to push the baby out that way.  So he put his hand up there and tried to turn the baby.  He smiled.  “She’s got plenty of room to move.”  He said.  She’d turned right around.  And then another look on his face.   A look of surprise.  He shook his head.  “She turned back.”  He said. 

“You have one strong baby!”  He said as he wrestled with this little one trying to get the child to turn again.  Apparently, this baby was fighting him.  He kept shaking  his head, half-way laughing.  This child didn’t want to turn. Every time he’d get the baby going, the baby would turn back up.

I kept pushing for a bit, and the pushing time reached to about 2 1/2 hours.  My doctor decided to talk to me about other options.  He explained how the vacuum worked and asked me if I’d be interested in trying it.  I kept thinking I’d still be pushing for a while before we used the vacuum and remember asking him how long it would be before he’d try it.  “Right now.”  He said.  “We can do it right now.” 

“Oh!”  Wow.  “Okay, let’s do it!”  I said.  I was ready for this baby to be born and it looked like I was going to need a little help to make it happen.  At this point, the thought never occured to me that if this didn’t work, I’d have to have a C-Section.  I just knew she was about to be born. 

The nurses and my doctor started to prepare things for the birth of my baby.  A table was brought towards the doctor where he was sitting.  He attached the vaccuum to the baby’s head before I even realized it and then it was time to push again.  I pushed.  Pushed again.  I could feel the baby moving and before I knew it, the baby’s head popped out and everyone started getting excited.  I can still remember the feeling of her moving out of me.  The doctor told me to stop pushing for a minute.  I guess her cord was wrapped around her neck, but he also didn’t want her coming out too fast.  Too bad, because before I knew it, the rest of her just popped out.  “It’s a girl!” 

Everyone cheered and got excited, but the reaction I’ll always remember is Scott’s.  He was so excited, so happy, so in love. 

They placed her in my arms nearly right away.  At first, I was just thrilled to have her in my arms. 

Then, I realized that I really didn’t know what to do.  My last two babies weren’t placed in my arms right after birth.  I had to wait until the surgeries were over. 

But I recovered from the shock quickly, and before I knew it, I was admiring the beautiful child lying in my arms.

My doctor shook his head as he told me she just came out, and I guess her coming out so fast caused me to tear pretty bad.  “Third degree tears” he told me as he stitched me up.  I even tore some on the inside.  I told him maybe I made the wrong choice, maybe I should have asked for an episiotimy.  He disagreed.  He said my tear avoided other areas that an episiotimywouldn’t.  Even with 3rd degree tears, I’d made the right choice. 

I turned back to my daughter, staring at her in disbelief.  I did it.  It wasn’t really a “natural birth” like I’d planned, but still, I’d reached my main goal – No C-Section.  My little girl was finally born…and the best part of all, she was born on the 4th of July, my mom’s birthday.

That night, Scott and I were settled in our room.  They moved me, and while the room was much smaller and not nearly as fancy, I was happy to be in this room, because it meant my baby was finally in my arms.  We talked about names, trying to decide on one that fit our little girl.  We had a list, and we went through it.  But Scott and I both seemed to like one name in particular…the name, you can find here, with the right password.  It just seemed like the name that was supposed to be, which made sense, because while I was pregnant with our little girl, I prayed and asked God to give us the right name.  The middle name seemed fitting, since it is also my mom’s middle name.  They share the same birthday, Scott and I wanted them to share the same middle name. 

After I got home, I looked up the meaning of our daughter’s first name.  We named her without knowing what her name meant, and tears welled up in my eyes as I read the one word that in many ways, changed my life – a word that I’d seen many times before, a word that meant many more words to me.  Even her name was a gift, an answer to prayer, a message and reminder that God will find little ways to continue speaking His love to me.

and that one word is

CAPTIVATING.

 

***If you haven’t, check out Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge, get it at half.com!

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Monday, Monday

Ahhh, it’s taking some time, but maybe today I’ll get this birth story posted.  I don’t know what it is about Mondays since the baby has been born, but this Monday was just as hectic as last Monday!  Scott called me at 8 a.m. to tell me that he was rear-ended (but was okay).  Good news is that he only suffered some soreness.  I can’t imagine what I would do without my husband right now!  The other good news is that it was the minivan that was hit.  Would you believe that our Kia Sadona has been hit 4 times now?  What are the odds?  We bought it 6 years ago and it has been hit 4 times! 

It just so happens that Scott took the van yesterday morning because the car seat base was in the Expedition and I had an appointment for the baby’s first pics.  So he took the van instead of messing with switching the base out.  If he’d taken the Expedition, chances are that it would have suffered more damage since it rides much higher and then we wouldn’t have a car big enough to transport our entire family!!!  Our minivan miraculously has only some bumper damage this time around.  The lady’s car, however, looked totaled.  (She’s okay too, by the way) 

Anyway, Scott was okay but made an appointment with his doctor just to be sure.  In the meantime, I took the baby for her pictures, thinking it would take an hour tops to go through the entire process.  Two hours later, I was in pain (forgot to take my Motrin), especially after all the sitting, and I was starving (forgot to eat breakfast in my mad rush to get out of the house in time)!  I couldn’t wait to get out of there! 

Mom, Madison, the baby and I loaded up in the Expedition, went through the drive through for a quick lunch, and then headed home in time for me to get ready for my doctor’s appointment, which I had to schedule because I discovered I am suffering some minor complications (don’t want to give too much information, but it isn’t pleasant!)

So, Scott drove straight from his appointment to home so he could drive me to mine, and we were there for a good while, mainly because I had to stop to feed the baby twice between my visit.  So needless to say, we were exhausted by the time we got home! 

Thank God for my mom who is still here helping out.  I don’t know how I would do this without her and I hope she’s not wearing herself out trying to keep up with all these kids!  And thank God for my husband, who still fixed us dinner after his accident the same day! 

It was another eventful day but we survived!  I think that next Monday we are going in hiding!

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If you’ve visited Suzy’s site at Gainesville Moms recently, you might have seen the thread on “Push Presents.”  A push present is a gift for the Mom after her baby is born, and it is becoming a big trend.  Personally, I think “push presents” are a great idea.  After all, I can’t tell you how many jealous moments I’ve had watching my husband drink that beer or order that sushi roll I was craving.  As women, we sacrifice so much, especially when it comes to giving birth and raising our children.  So I figure, Hey, Dads…Why not show your appreciation to the Mom by getting her something to mark that very special day you got to meet your child?

And I don’t think push presents should be limited to women who give birth.  Adoption can be just as much of an emotional journey (if not more) than pregnancy, and there is so much involved in being able to bring home that child, the woman often has to “push” to get that child too.  I know I had to push to get Patrick and Kelly in my home!  I had to push social services multiple times to get off their butts and just open up their file.  What a nightmare!  (Then again, so did my husband, I couldn’t have done all of that without him!)

Anyway, I thought getting a push present was a great idea, especially after my last experience having a baby.  See Scott had just started school the same week Madison was born, and so he was a little overwhelmed with bringing home baby and trying to keep up with his new studies.  Several months before she was born, I watched as a friend had her baby and then cried when her hubby didn’t buy a stork with the birth info to display in the yard…or even balloons to put on the mailbox.  While I thought it would have been nice for her husband to have gotten something for his wife, I was a little turned off by her whining about the whole ordeal too…

and Scott had already asked me to look into the stork thing.  After seeing how that all went down with this friend, and then realizing I’m more of a private person and don’t want my child’s information displayed out on the front yard, I told my husband that I didn’t expect him to do anything extravagant like that.  I was happy with him just being there. 

But secretly, I was hoping for a little something to mark that special day we actually got to hold our little girl in our arms.  After all, this was a big event for me.  I never thought I was going to get to have a baby again, especially since God had asked me if I was willing to give up having any more babies in order to adopt (when I was pregnant with Joshua).  That was a very hard moment for me, but how could I say no to that?  So I said yes, and then we adopted Patrick AND Kelly.  We never anticipated adopting TWO kiddos at once, but what an adventure and blessing to receive! 

I don’t even think the adoptions were complete when God started to work on me again.  I really wanted another baby, but was afraid that even trying I’d be seen as being disobedient and therefore, wouldn’t even try to have a baby.  I remember talking to my friend about it one day and the moment she spoke to me, I knew her words were from God.  “Yes, Melissa, but God also asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac.  He was testing your heart in the same way God was testing Abraham’s heart.”  I knew at that moment she was right, but was still too afraid to try.

But by December 2005, God spoke again, only this time loud and clear.  I was sitting in church during the praise and worship, holding my friend’s newborn baby when God said, “I want to give you a child THIS MONTH.  Let me give you a child!”  Honestly, it took a lot of faith to just let go and “do it” (heh heh).  I was so afraid God was going to punish me for stepping out of His will or something.  But just a few days later, Madison was conceived and growing in my womb.

So, needless to say, the birth of this child was such a special event to me.  It was a spiritual and emotional journey as well as a physical one.  But with my shrinking pregnant brain, I didn’t realize just how much it all meant to me.  I just knew I didn’t want to be like my friend, criticizing her husband in front of others about the whole ordeal.  So after Madison was born, I was hoping…maybe a simple card or letter…but I didn’t say anything, because I’d pretty much let my husband off the hook when my friend’s baby was born.  I also knew he was stressing out about school, and I didn’t want to put more pressure on him.  But, I knew my husband.  When Joshua was born, he bought a big bouquet of flowers.  He’s just good like that!

But…

I guess my husband decided to take me at my word this time around!  Nothing.  Nada.  Not even a card. 

Then my birthday came around 13 days later.  My grandma and mom were both there and it was so awesome.  They made me a Rum cake from scratch.  Yum!  Rum and cake in one, who can beat that?  And while they were baking away, secretly, I was still hoping.  I was still hoping that in the midst of Scott scrambling between work and school and the baby craze going on in the house, that he might have found time to maybe get something special to mark this special month.  After all, it was my 29th birthday.  The last year in my 20’s.  (You know only a woman would think about it that way!) and…AND we just had a baby.  This was a special year, a very special month…Something including a sapphire might be nice…you know, the September birth stone! 

And I fought back the tears when I pulled out lamps and shirts out of the gift bag. 

“Do you like them?”  Scott asked about the lamps.  “They were on clearance!” 

“And the shirts match the lipgloss you always wear.” 

Okay, how many men actually notice the lipgloss their wives always wears and then find clothes to match?  But do you know what was running through my head?  “I’m 29 years old, just had a baby, and I’m getting lamps on clearance!”

But I simply said, “Yeah.  They’re nice.  Thank you.”

Really, in his defense, I have to say that I have the most romantic husband ever.  Other women get jealous when they hear about or see the stuff he does for me, and I have to admit, I am quite spoiled.  So I know that expecting all this was a bit much, and I was still going through the baby blues AND dealing with the pain (from my C-Section).  So all these emotions welled up inside me, and I fought them off.  I fought them off because I knew I’d told my husband I didn’t expect anything from him.  I fought them off because I didn’t want to be a crying fool in front of my mom and grandma.  I fought them off because I knew that I was already too emotional and the disappointments I was experiencing was all my fault. 

And it was a lesson learned.  I better really be sure I mean what I say! 

Looking back now, I should have voiced my desires for something special to mark that moment in my life.  It was more than just the birth of a baby, it was also a learning and growing experience.  I was getting to know God on a deeper level, and started to realize that the Bible might be right – that God really might just love me a little bit, and just might want to give me the desires of my heart. 

And as disappointing as it was to get “lamps on clearance,” I do have to admit they match our bedroom nicely.  I may not have a card or special gift to show for the day Madison was born, but I am thankful for my husband who loves his daughter with all his heart.  I’m thankful he took time off work to help out during those first few weeks when we brought Madison home. 

So do I think push presents are important?  Yes!  Even if a woman doesn’t verbalize what she wants, I think any woman would welcome a “push present” from her man.  But in saying all that, I think it is important to emphasize that a push present doesn’t have to be expensive.  It should, however, be special.  It should send the message that the mom and baby are number one.  That the woman is appreciated for all that she does, and that she is valued and treasured and this moment is special.  So if you are catching onto the new trend, try not to get caught up into what the jewelry stores are pushing for.  After all, it is their job to sell as much as they can! 

If you have a story to share about the Push Presents you’ve received, I’d love to hear about them.  Better yet, post your stories AND ideas on the thread at Gainesville Moms.  I think it would be nice for men to have options other than a $2000 diamond ring!  I’m not saying jewery isn’t a good push present, I’m just saying you shouldn’t have to come up with thousand $ gifts every time you have a kid.  So go post your ideas and opinions over there…I’ll be reading them!

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Home Video

My baby is growing up.  I’m really loving this age right now.  She is so full of personality!  Here’s a video of “Uncle” teasing Madison as she yells at him!

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Last night I asked Scott if he wanted to go for a walk.  I’ve been motivated, really motivated, to start losing weight…at least to work out.  I am going to get back into my pre-pregnancy clothes!  It wasn’t dark yet, so we rushed out the door and drove down to a neighborhood with walking trails.  We ended up walking 4 miles with 5 kids.  Talk about PAINFUL.  Madison was the only one who didn’t complain.  She was content to be pushed around in the stroller.  The rest of the kids wanted to be carried.  Actually, Dwight didn’t complain, and he actually carried Kelly for a bit.  I guess Patrick didn’t either, but he kept lagging and asked annoying questions like, “Why are we going this way?  Why aren’t we going back to the car?”

While we were walking, I could smell someone grilling. Mmmmmm.  What I’d give for a nice juicy burger.  It smelled so good!  But we were going home and I was going to cook up some salmon.  I’ve GOT to lose some weight! 

A mile later, I could smell dryer sheets.  Only it smelled like 100 dryer sheets.  I love the smell of fresh, clean laundry.  “Can you smell that, Patrick?  It smells so good!” 

“Uh. No.”

I could smell it 5 houses later.  That’s when the thought occurred to me.

A few houses later and I could smell grease from the grill.  Somebody finished cooking and I could smell it.  The remains of cooked grease.  Yuck.

But the walk did us all some good.  Exercise is a great stress reliever and I think I slept better because of it.

This morning, I woke up vividly remembering my dream.  I went to the store and bought a specific pregnancy test.  It was First Response Early Pregnancy Test.  I bought a couple, knowing I had all these other brands at home, but since I still had at least 5 days before I was supposed to start my period, I wanted the one test that would be most likely to detect pregnancy.  So I tested.  It came out positive. 

Then I was in an orphanage, and there was the cutest little newborn baby girl.  Scott said, “Hold her, Melissa.  You have to hold her.” 

The woman holding her handed her to me, and as I picked her up in my arms I realized how tiny she was!  She couldn’t have been more than five pounds.  I remember she had somewhat of a dark complexion although I was unsure of what her nationality was.  She was so beautiful!  The longer I held her, the more in love I fell with her.  I didn’t want to give her back. 

Scott looked at me and said, “Let’s adopt her.”  I was so shocked and overwhelmed and confused at the idea of adopting a baby while I was pregnant too.  But we started the process because I loved this baby so much.  And all I could think about as we started the process was, I can’t let these people know I’m pregnant or they might not let me have her.

In my dream, I started stressing about how long the process was going to take.  I thought, “It’s going to be at least a year before I will be able to bring this baby home with me!”  But as we started filling out paperwork, a social worker began showing us ways to cut the time in half.  Because we’d adopted before, they were able to get old records and get things done much faster.  (I love how dreams work themselves out sometimes!)

When I woke up, I decided I was going to use one of the many tests Scott got from a co-worker.  Samples.   Shoot, I have plenty, I’ll use two.  Just in case.  I know it’s way early, but I swear, I have symptoms!  The nausea, the cramping, the SMELLING!

This is what I got:

Pregnancy Test Results

Can you see it?  The faint lines on both of them?  And this test was taken 6 days early! 

Suddenly, I’m feeling especially…nauseous.

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Oh! That Part!

I asked Joshua to get Madison’s pacifier off the floor for me this evening when he said, “I need to wash it off first. The boob part was touching the floor!”

“The what part?”

“The BOOB part.”

“Did you just say, ‘The boob part?'” I asked.

“Yeah, you know, the part that goes in her mouth?”

Oh yes…the boob part. Why couldn’t I figure that out myself???

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