ONE POINT FIVE

Here I am celebrating the 12^th day of the month again for my little man. It’s been quite a while, but as you all know I stopped celebrating “month birthdays” when Luca turned the big old UNO. However, in toddler years I feel like one and a half is quite the milestone. And after doing month updates every month for the first year, waiting until TWO to update again seemed like way to long. So if you care to know all about my little dude at one point five years continue reading below….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Per usual, these past 6 months flew by at lightning speed. We’ve had our ups and downs but looking back it’s been mostly ups. Luca has turned into quite the little boy. And if I had to describe him in two words it would be just that ALL BOY! He doesn’t walk, he runs. He sits, but only for about 5 seconds at a time. He can jump across a room faster than I can walk. He loves cars, trains, playing outside, and throwing any object he can get his hands on across a room. This kid has an arm! Give him a ball and he will be entertained for a whole 10 minutes! He can already kick a soccer ball like a pro. He is a monkey and climbs on anything and everything. But to my surprise I am still waiting for the day to come when he climbs out of his crib. How on earth that day hasn’t arrived is beyond me. But every morning that he wakes up and cries for me to come get him out of his crib I’m singing a little hallelujah in my head.

Luca is a boy of few words. Not much talking going on here yet. He’ll repeat a word here and there, but he mostly just utters nonsense and when he gets on a roll there’s no stopping those adorable babbles. The way he does it is just so stinking cute, and I wish I could understand what was going on in that little brain of his. I’m hoping that day comes soon!

Moana and Elsa are his best friends and mine. For how active Luca is, he will actually sit and watch a movie which is heaven for me at times. (No judging please!) He has even figured out how to take a movie out of the case, turn on the playstation and put the dvd in! This. I am not so proud of. And don’t worry, he gets a firm “No” anytime it happens.

At one and a half some of Luca’s favorite pastimes include… Baths, climbing stairs, playing outside, playing fetch with Elsie, marveling at ceiling fans, reading stories but flipping through the pages faster than I can read them, and building towers with his giant legos.

He loves yogurt, ice cream, bananas, any form of berry, mac and cheese, and Panera bagels. Other than taco meat he is legit a vegetarian. It’s been a real struggle trying to get him to eat meat. He still has a bottle of whole milk when he wakes up and before he goes to bed.

Luca weighs approximately 31 pounds and is wearing pretty much all size 2T clothes. He’s always been a little chunker, but he’s slowly losing the baby pudge and looking more and more like a real toddler.

He is becoming more and more of an extrovert, which I would not have expected early on since we had so much trouble with separation anxiety! But anymore he waves at random people in the grocery store, claps for anyone who makes eye contact with him, and babbles to anyone who will listen. I drop him off at nursery and he literally runs through the door and immediately waves goodbye to me. Most days I pick him up and I barely get a hello… of course my mama heart misses him needing and wanting me like he did when he was a baby, but to be honest, I’m loving his little independent spirit. I’ve loved watching him grow from such a shy mama’s boy baby into a friendly, independent toddler. It was quite the journey, but so worth those struggles early on.

At one and a half, Luca is energetic, rambunctious, generous, curious, silly and loving. He gives me hugs and kisses without prompting and at the end of every day, no matter how crazy he was, he is always super snuggly. Another quality that I love about him and honestly already admire is how no matter what Luca does, he gives it his all, wholeheartedly, without hesitation. He is already such a strong little boy in every sense of the word. And I am so blessed to call him mine.

 

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Luca's Romper is from Childhood's Clothing and can be found here.

Luca's shoes are from Adelisa and Co and can be found here.

Cabin Fever

 When your dog is a better model than your kid....

 

 He loves watching his big sister Elsie play fetch.

 

 Preparing to throw the ball for Elsie... pure focus.

 

 About to throw..

 

 His face while Elsie chases the ball... pure joy!

 

 My happy little boy.

 

 He was so glad to be out of the house!

 

 100% boy. He spent about 5 minutes searching for sticks in our yard.

 

 My baby girl. I know I'm prejudice, but I think she's just the prettiest.

 

 His after playtime treat... Definitely my kid!

 

And then of course he didn't want to go in... but naptime was calling his name.

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The weather these days has been not so nice. It's January, yet we have zero snow, and if you know anything about me, you know this leaves me on the verge of depression. I think I've decided we need to move about 8 hours north. (Did you hear that John? Start job searching!) It has been cold, but just not cold enough for a blanket of white, rather this lovely weather has left us with a damp, nasty haze. Absolutely, positively gross!

I don't mind staying in, cuddling on the couch, drinking some Starbucks, and watching a movie. But my little boy can only stand that for exactly 5 minutes these days and then he's whining to do something different. Pretty sure, he's sick and tired of being trapped inside with his approximately 500 new toys he got for Christmas... Life is rough when you're one people.  So rough.

Yesterday, I had just had enough of the whining. So on went the hat, the gloves, the jacket, and out we went.

And he had a ball.

I didn't even have to entertain him. He was happy as can be running, jumping and tripping all over our backyard. It was so nice to see a smile on my little boy's face.

Motherhood Is...

 

 

Motherhood Is...

 

Pretending to sleep through your baby crying at 2am so your husband has to get out of bed and you don’t.

Waiting in the Starbucks drive-thru for 30 minutes to get a $5 drink because you NEED it and it’s not worth it to get your kid out of their car seat to go inside where there’s no line…

Making a healthy lunch for your kid: Pb&J on whole wheat, a banana, and a yogurt. Meanwhile, you eat a donut.

Driving down random country roads for an hour so your baby sleeps for 10 minutes…

Changing from sweatpants and a T-Shirt to leggings and a flannel and calling it “getting dressed”

Waiting all day to put your kid to bed because you’ve had enough, but then 2 minutes after you put them to bed  you stare at pictures of them on your phone for an hour…

Walking around Target for an hour by yourself to get 3 things, because it feels like a mini vacation. Oh and you also end up buying 20 things…  

Planning to be productive during naptime, but you sit on your phone for 2 hours instead

Planning your kids outfit a week in advance, meanwhile you throw on the same outfit you wore the day before and spray on a little perfume…

Memorizing Frozen word for word because well, you’ve seen it 500 times

Taking 100 photos of your kid and getting 2 that are actually decent

Calling sleeping till 7 “sleeping in”

Calling the 5 times you walked up and down the stairs carrying your 25 lb child your workout for the day

Putting your kid to bed an hour late because you need them to sleep in.. Meanwhile they wake up an hour early

Hearing phantom baby cries randomly throughout the day and having a mini panic attack each time

Getting locked out of your phone because you gave it to your kid to play with so they would be quiet for 2 minutes

Keeping your Christmas tree up until the end of January, because who has time to take that thing down

Driving 2 miles down the road and then remembering the 5 things you forgot to bring, turn around, get said 5 things, pull out of the driveway and remembering 2 more things you need..

Forgetting to eat lunch but remembering Starbucks lattes are buy one get one free… and then you drink both

Having a part time job because you need a break from your actual job which is being a mom

Washing the same load of laundry 3 times because you keep forgetting about it for days at a time

Squeezing 5 more diapers in the diaper genie after it’s actually full… and then regretting it

Saying hello to your kid but forgetting to say hello to your husband

Recording your kid while they are screaming using the snapchat deer filter, because it sounds hilarious

Having 409840984098 pictures on your phone and they are all important so you can't delete them to make room for more pictures

But most importantly, motherhood is...

A Blessing
 

A Privilege

Rewarding

Happy

Sad

Hard

Tiring

Forever a work in progress

The most awesome experience there is and I wouldn't trade any of it for the whole darn world.

He Gives And Takes Away

Hitting “publish” on this post is going to be extremely hard. And I'm shaking as my fingers type these words. But ever since I started this blog, sharing this has weighed heavy on my heart. It’s not going to be easy, but I feel lead to share…

 

Initially, let me just say, I am not posting this for attention. I am not posting this so people feel bad for me, or show my pity. I have grieved. And yes, I still have my moments of grieving. But enough time has passed and instead of grieving I choose to celebrate this moment of my life. This was truly a turning point in my life and in my walk with God. So, I’m posting this because I want to help other women who have gone through this too, or for women who may go through this in the future. I wish I had known about posts like this when I was at my ultimate low. I know they were out there, I just hadn’t found them. So here is another to add to the bunch. If it helps just one woman, I’ve done my job.

 

December 13^th… To most people this is just another day on their calendar. Nothing significant. Nothing special. But to me it is. Today, two years ago, was my first baby’s due date. Yes, today, my first baby should be turning two years old…

We were newlyweds. We had a plan. But God has other plans. Bigger plans.

Two months after our wedding. I knew something was up. I didn’t feel like myself. On a Saturday morning, just an hour before I was supposed to head into work I took a pregnancy test. And there they were. Those two little lines.

Shocked. Scared. Confused.

This was not the plan. We had only been married two months. We were not ready for a baby.

But inside my belly, a tiny little human was forming. God put him/her there for a reason. I just did not know why yet…

As a woman, after the shock settled, I quickly became excited about the idea of being pregnant. Of course this was not how I wanted it to go, but I had always dreamed of being a mommy. It was just happening a little faster than I had wanted it to. Ok, a lot faster. Like years faster. But my tears and fear, quickly turned to smiles and joy. And within days I was picking out baby names…

But for men, it takes time. Babies aren’t formed in their bellies after all. That immediate instinct of love just isn’t there. And it was hard for my husband to accept this new normal. As to be expected.

Still, life went on. We told close family, but that was it. We’d wait until the end of the first trimester to announce our news to the world. I continued to work. John was in the process of changing jobs. Life was going to be okay.

But in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

April 29, 2014. I was 7 ½ weeks. My first ultrasound was just days away… The reality that I was going to be a mom had completely sunk in at this point. And I was happy as can be! John was also slowly warming up to the idea. And we were finally at a good place. Both of us. Together.

It was evening. I had had a very long, stressful day at work. I was working in the city for a design firm. Commuting 3+ hours a day. I was exhausted. Very nauseous, as my morning sickness was very severe with this pregnancy. I went to the bathroom and saw spotting. Immediately I started to freak out. I told John and sat on my phone the rest of the evening googling if this was normal. (I have learned since to never do this, as it just leads to more anxiety and does not help one bit!)

I went to bed, but could not close my eyes. I had consistently been spotting all evening. It was not stopping. I tried to keep my thoughts positive, but it was impossible to stop the negatives… Am I going to lose my baby? I couldn’t help but think it. I think deep down I just knew, but I couldn’t bear the thought of it.

Then the cramps started.. That’s when I really knew something was not right. I went into the living room and laid on the couch. And I cried. Tears from the pain. Tears from the reality that was settling in my head. I think I’m losing my baby…Our baby

But I did not give up hope. Even when the bleeding was at its heaviest and the pain was at its worst. I never once gave up hope that my baby was still alive. Safe inside my belly. I prayed, and prayed with all my heart that my baby was going to be okay.

Morning came. We had barely slept. But John had to go to work. It was only his 3^rd day on his new job. We had no choice. He had to go. We called my mom at 5am and she came and sat with me. We called the Dr. around 6am and got an appointment at 12pm. And we waited. Some of the longest hours of my life. I laid on the couch, the pain coming and going. I did not realize it at the time, but I was having contractions. It was as if I was in labor. I was in labor. My body was delivering my 7 ½ week baby. And I can say now that I have gone through labor to deliver my son. Both felt the same. But at least when I was in labor with my son, I knew there was a prize at the end of the painful road. But on this day, all I’d be left with was an empty belly and an even emptier heart.
But still, I never once gave up hope.

April 30, 2014. 11am. We got in the car to go to the doctor. “Overcomer” by Mandisa came on the radio. I clearly remember singing along. God, your timing is perfect…

“Everybody’s been down, hit the bottom hit the ground. You’re not alone. Just take a breath, don’t forget. Hang on to His promises. He wants you to know. You’re an Overcomer. Stay in the fight till the final round. You’re not going under. Cause God is holding you right now. You might be down for a moment. Feeling like it’s hopeless. But that’s when He reminds you. You’re an Overcomer.”

I was down. I was at my ultimate low. But God was holding me. No matter what happened at my appointment. It was God’s plan all along. And that comforted me. It kept me calm during the biggest storm in my life.

We got in quick. They put us in the ultrasound room. And there I sat, next to the ultrasound machine. Hoping. Praying. This was not how I had envisioned my first ever ultrasound going. The doctor came in. Said some comforting words. And then he checked me. I saw his face. And in that moment I knew. I had lost my baby. I looked at my mom. I looked at the doctor. And that’s when he said the words I had been dreading all night long…

“It’s passing. Your baby is right here. You’re miscarrying”

And I wept. Tears knowing I was no longer going to be a mom. Tears knowing my baby that I had already fallen in love with in just these few short weeks was gone. Tears because I’d never be able to meet him/her. See their face. Kiss their cheeks. I felt numb. Empty.

At the same time though, I felt relief. I had an answer. It was finished. All night long I had wondered what was happening. And now I knew.

My doctor still did an ultrasound to check to see if there was anything left of the baby inside me. There was not. My womb was empty. And so was my heart. 

Those next few days were very rough, to say the least. Some of the roughest of my life. I laid there, on my parents couch. Still in physical pain, but even more so emotional. I had no desire to move. I was depressed. I was at my ultimate low. Nothing mattered. The shock was still too new. I was still grasping the fact that I was no longer going to be a mom. 

Why me? Why my baby? We had just finally gotten over the shock that we were actually having a baby. We were excited. And just like that our baby was taken away.

The emotion came in waves. Sometimes I was okay. And other times I felt like my heart had just been ripped out of my chest. And I’d cry. There aren’t too many times in my life where I can say I truly cried. Of course I shed tears often, but I mean really cry. The kind of cry where you feel it deep in your soul. Where your heart just aches. This cry physically hurts. And you can’t control it at all. Nothing and no one can comfort you. It’s the most awful feeling in the world.

We spent that first night at my parents’ house, because I couldn’t go back home. I couldn’t go back to the place where I lost my baby. Seeing all the reminders of the night that had just passed. I couldn’t bear the thought of it. So John graciously let us stay. And I can remember lying next to him on my parents’ living room floor. The emotions still so raw and in an instant they swept over me and I cried that true cry. And he held me. He put his arms around me and we laid there, together. Just the two of us. And oh how I wished it were three. That was the moment it completely hit me. It was no longer three of us. It was only two. And I felt empty. A shell of the person I had been just a day ago. I can still recall that feeling to this day. And every time I think about it, I have to hold back tears. My baby was gone. And in that moment, even John’s loving arms could not comfort me. My soul ached for my child. My child that I would never get to meet.

Still, life went on.  It has a way of doing that, but even weeks after I still did not feel like myself. I felt empty. It’s a strange thing, pregnancy. At only 7 ½ weeks, I could not feel my baby move. I had zero belly. But somehow I felt full. Fuller than I had ever felt before. My little pea-sized baby was growing in my belly and we already had a connection. A mother-child connection. So beautiful. A miracle. Truly a gift from God. And of course, I wanted to feel that connection again. And soon.

That was my first question, after the doctor finished my ultrasound.

“How soon can I get pregnant again?”

He advised we wait 2 months. Just to make sure my body had time to clear everything out and heal.

Okay… So the end of June. Which means I could potentially have another baby next April.  There was no waiting in my mind.. But that thought calmed me. It gave me hope. Hope for the future. I now wanted to start a family more than ever. My baby fever was officially at an all-time high..

But we needed time. Yes, that thought comforted me in the moment, but after multiple (and I mean MULTIPLE) conversations with John, WE decided it would be best to wait a little longer. We needed time to heal. Our first 3 months of marriage had been challenging to say the least. First, we got well, married. That’s hard enough. Living with a new person, in a new place. Second, we both had just started multiple new jobs. Third, John lost his mother, my new mother-in-law, a month after we were married. She had been fighting a tough battle with cancer for a few years and we were just blessed she was able to attend our wedding. Fourth, we found out we were having a baby just a couple weeks after her funeral. Fifth, one month later we found out we lost our baby. Trial, after trial, after trial. We were emotionally drained to say the least. So we needed time. Time to heal from all we had lost. Time to actually enjoy all we had gained. Time to enjoy being a couple. Learn about each other. Learn about marriage. Live a somewhat normal, peaceful life for at least a little while before adding another person to our family.  

And yes I still had my moments (many moments) of tears. Lying on our bed. Sobbing that I wanted to be a mother and I couldn’t wait a moment longer. But now that I’ve been through that time I can honestly say I’m glad we waited. I was not emotionally ready. I needed that time, as hard as it was. And through it I learned a very valuable lesson.. Wives, listen to your husbands. God placed them as the head of your relationship for a reason. No it’s not easy, but you will be blessed by it. My husband is a wise man.

And here we are. Almost three years later and God has blessed our family so richly, sometimes I cannot even believe it. To think where we were just a couple years ago and where we are now. It is unbelievable. I do not deserve this life!

There’s a saying. I don’t know the exact words, but it goes something like “After every storm, there is new life” Well…

On January 22, 2015 (John’s Birthday!) we found out we were pregnant with our SECOND child. When that pregnancy test showed up positive I fell to my knees and wept. God is so good. His timing is perfect. His blessings are ever flowing! And today I am a mommy to a beautiful boy. My little, Luca John.

But I truly believe, even before my precious Luca was born, that I was already a mommy. That little pea-sized baby, who would now be two years old and running around my house, is still just as much my baby as my son, who is sleeping peacefully in his crib while I write this now. I don’t care what people say about whether or not a baby is truly a baby until it takes its first breath. That little ball of cells was my child. No, I never got to hear his/her heartbeat, but I know with all my heart it was there. I am just as much that baby’s mommy as I am Luca’s. The love I felt and still feel for that baby is the same. How can anyone tell me differently? That baby was my baby the moment he or she was conceived. And although I only carried him or her for a short while, I will carry that baby in my heart forever.

So I am writing this first of all as a testimony to God’s grace. Yes, it would be very easy to look back on this trial in my life and be mad at God. He is the one who took my baby’s life after all. But he is also the one who gave that baby life. He gave Luca life. He gave me life. He gives us all life. Without Him, we would be nothing.

“The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:21b

So I choose to thank God in ALL things and bless his holy name. Not just in the good times, but also in the trials. And I choose to never take for granted all the blessing he has given me. I need to remind myself of this more. And I choose to look at my trials in a positive light as best I can and see them as blessings. Because, if I had carried that baby full term, yes I would have that baby, but it would not be my Luca John that I hold today. We need to try to see that there is good in all things. Because He is Good!

So I am writing this to encourage those who may be going through the same thing right now, who have gone through the same thing in the past, or who may go through something like this in the future. You are not alone!

Before I miscarried, I knew that miscarriages happen, obviously. But what I didn’t know is how common they are. My doctor told me that close to 80% of all first pregnancies end in miscarriage! 80%! A lot of women don’t know they are miscarrying because it happens so early in the pregnancy, but some, like mine, happen later. Also, about 25% of all pregnancies, no matter what the number, end in a miscarriage! These statistics blew my mind! They didn’t seem real. And it wasn’t until weeks after my own miscarriage that I realized why these numbers seemed false. It’s because miscarriage is not talked about nearly as much as it happens. Why do you think everyone waits to announce their pregnancy until after the first trimester? Because their risk for miscarriage drops significantly. What I don’t understand is why everyone keeps their early pregnancy a secret?  If the first trimester is the most fragile and scariest part of the pregnancy, why do we keep it hidden? This is the point in pregnancy where the woman and her child need to be lifted up most! Not only because of the risk of early pregnancy, but if a woman has morning sickness this is when it’s at its worst! We need to be praying for and encouraging women at this point in their pregnancy, but how can we do that if it is all a secret.

We can’t.

And if a woman ends up miscarrying her child, why must that be all hush hush as well? I can say this, because I have gone through both: miscarriage feels exactly the same as losing a loved one. Because you are losing a loved one. Yes, a loved one you have only known for a very short while, but a loved one just the same.

Over the past two years, I’ve had many conversations about this topic with different women. Every single time I am completely shocked when I come to find out that they have suffered a miscarriage in their lifetime, if not multiple miscarriages. And I, as well as the rest of the world never knew. Miscarriage is much more common than we all realize and my hope and prayer is that someday it would not be looked at as a trial in our lives that needs to be kept secret, but rather a trial that was made easier by prayer and encouragement from others. But this can’t happen unless we open the door and allow ourselves to be more transparent. Don’t be embarrassed. Use your experiences to help others and give God the glory for getting you through.

I have noticed recently, the door opening slightly. Women are being more open about their miscarrying experiences. Again, like I said in the beginning… Not to get attention, but to show other women that they are not alone. And this is my hope..

My hope is that this post can reach the eyes of many women who have experienced this trial or who will experience this trial in the future. May it open the door just a little further. May it show us that, yes, God gives us trials, but we can overcome them. We are given every trial for a reason and God will always be there, holding us and guiding us through.

"Give thanks to the Lord for He is good! For His steadfast love endures forever!” Psalm 118:29

The End of an Era

The time has come. My little boy is officially going to be completely independent of me. He no longer needs my body to support him. Our nursing days are coming to an end. He’s growing up. His little wings are beginning to take flight. He’s becoming his own little person. And I’m scared.

I did not think breaking this tie between us would be so difficult. When he was born I was just hoping I would be able to nurse him. I had heard of so many women who had difficulties or struggled with breastfeeding that I didn’t want to fully get my hopes up. But just minutes after Luca was born, he immediately tried to nurse. How do babies know to do that? It just blew my mind. And he nursed perfectly from the beginning.

Of course this made me very happy, but to be honest, I wasn’t super excited about breastfeeding him. However, I knew if I was able, I was definitely going to nurse him exclusively for at least awhile. I wanted to give my baby the best that I could. And he thrived. Oh, did he thrive! Those chubby little rolls! There was no denying my little boy loved mommy’s  milk. Every two hours, on the dot for those first couple months, and nursing him soon became a huge part of my life. It consumed me. Every decision I made throughout my day was impacted by the next time he needed to be fed. Was it annoying sometimes? Yes. Did I care? Absolutely not. What mother doesn’t want multiple reasons throughout the day to cuddle with their baby? To satisfy them the way no other person can? It is such a beautiful thing and I soon grew to love it more than I ever thought I would.

A year. That’s how long I would nurse him. It seemed normal, average. But the longer I nursed him, the more I didn’t want to stop. Every day I noticed my son growing more and more independent. Needing me less and less. But those quiet, peaceful moments when he first woke up in the morning and right before I tucked him into bed. When he cuddled with me the exact same way as he did when he was a newborn. In those moments I still had my baby. And it’s hard knowing those moments are no longer going to be a part of my day.  

So here we are, a month after his first birthday. Every part of me wants to keep it going. My original plan of a year soon turned to a year and a half in my head. Just something inside me did not want to stop. He still wanted to. I still wanted to. Why end a good thing?

But it’s time. I don’t know if it’s that mother instinct. But I just know. I can tell it is time for my little bird to jump out of the nest. He doesn’t need me like he once did. My little independent son needs to spread his wings and fly and I don’t want to be the one holding him back. I love him too much to do that.  

Over the past week or so I came to the realization that I was only nursing him for selfish reasons. I wanted my baby and it was the only time during the day that I got my baby. But I have to realize, Luca is no longer a baby in physical terms. Yes, I know, because I’m his mom, Luca will always be “my baby”, but that doesn’t mean I am supposed to treat him like one for the rest of his life. In every other aspect of his life Luca is growing up. He is becoming his own little person, independent of me. And that is ok. It’s normal. And I have to learn to accept it.

Over a year ago, my body was his home. He could not live outside of me. He needed me to keep him safe until he was strong enough to enter this world. And then he did. That was step one. But he still needed my body in other ways. And this past year, my body has given him the nourishment he needs to grow big and strong, but now he no longer needs that. We are at step two. That tie that has held our bodies together these past almost 2 years now is breaking. He is coming into his own and now it’s time to watch him fly.

To some I may have nursed him too long. To others I may not have nursed him long enough. But I know in my heart, 13 months is right. It was perfect for us. Oh how I will always cherish those 13

months in my heart. The best 13 months of my life. But who’s to say the next 13 months won’t be as good. They will be. And I know it. Because our bond will always remain strong. For I am the only person in this whole world whom he will ever call “mommy”, and that my friends, is a beautiful thing.

Luca's "Trendy" Jungle Party

Over a week ago now, we had a small, little family get together to celebrate our little boy turning ONE year old! A jungle themed birthday party for our crazy monkey of a son. Of course, designer me could not just throw him a "typical" jungle party. It had to be different. Hello Pinterest. Hello jungle meets metallic! It turned out super cute! Thank you to all the family who helped bring my vision to life! And a special thank you to my brother-in-law Kyle who brought me and my sister Starbucks and went out to the store approximately 540320392 times to get all the last minute stuff I forgot <3

 

The Spread

 A closer look at the cake and metallic animals. Found these in the toy section of Wal-Mart for $1, spray painted them with left-over gold paint from our wedding and Voila!

The Cake Pops! Tried my hardest to make them look like zebra and tiger stripes..

 Party, party party! Had to have one of those trendy gold balloons. Streamers done by Kyle and Laura. They are pros. We also had a slideshow gong of Luca's first year. Only 500 pictures... And that's not even close to all of the pictures I've taken..

Luca's one year old facts board. I spent way too long writing this out, but it turned out just how I wanted so I don't even care.

Trying to take pictures of a one-year old... impossible! He would not stand still! Hence.. I'm in the picture..

Another attempt. Luca, "Mom, why are you making me wear these ridiculous socks!?"

*Side note: I am totally in love with Luca's birthday outfit. I found the shirt and overalls on Etsy. The fox socks are from Etsy too and I just adore them!!

Eating his mini cake.

The inside of Luca's birthday cake. Not the best picture (sorry it's a little messy)! But I tried my hardest to make the inside of Luca's cake look like a zebra! I think it turned out pretty well!

Luca's Birth Story: Part III

 

That feeling. Knowing that soon you will be holding the baby you’ve been carrying for 9 months in your arms. Indescribable.

 

Sitting in the passenger’s seat while John drove, oh so calmly, to the hospital felt like a dream. The best dream ever.

I don’t remember much, other than thinking, “wow, if these are contractions, this doesn’t feel so bad” (haha, haha, haha) But seriously, in the car, my contractions eased up a ton. They were more like 10-15 minutes apart and not even as bad as a period cramp. I was a little concerned that we were going to the hospital only to be sent home, but I kept my hopes up as high as I could, yet still low enough that if we got sent home I wouldn’t be a sobbing mess again. And hey, at least I knew tomorrow I was most likely getting induced no matter what… and this was a good sign that I just might be able to have this baby on my own, or at least no C-Section! Oh please, oh please, oh please!

So we got to the hospital and had no idea where to go…

You know how first time parents are supposed to be all prepared. Take a bunch of classes. Get a tour of the hospital, etc.. Yeahh, we didn’t do any of that… No real reason, other than we were probably just a little bit lazy, combined with the horror stories my nurse sister told me of all the over-prepared parents whose labor went horribly wrong. So we decided to be the opposite. Preparation level: Zero.

So John, again oh so calmly, drove around the hospital. And in the end we decided our best bet was just to go to the ER. We parked right in front of it, John walked in to make sure this was okay to do, I got a thumbs up, he went to actually park the car and I walked in. Super pregnant. Super chill.

“Aren’t all the ladies in the movies like screaming hysterically. Am I doing this wrong?” Seriously though. That’s what I thought…

I stood at the counter. Gave them my info. John walked in carrying our 500 bags. Then they made me sit in a wheelchair…

“Do I have to?” I felt like an idiot. My contractions still weren’t super bad. I could totally walk to Labor and Delivery. But nope. I had to. It was so weird.

And it felt like forever. I think the ER and L&D were on opposite sides of the hospital.

When we finally made it, I gave the nurses my info and explained to them what I had been feeling. Then one of the nurses asked if this was our first?

“Yes.”

Crazy look, followed by, “Normally, we don’t have first time parents come to the hospital this soon. I don’t know why the nurse on the phone told you to come so fast.”

Uhhhhhh… What!?

“We might have to send you home for a few hours to finish early labor at home.”

Uhhhhhh…. No. It’s almost midnight. And my contractions were close an hour ago! Put me in a hospital bed. I’m not going home for 2 hours just to hop in the car and come back…

 *I was thinking all this. I didn’t actually say it…

Then they asked me who my OB was. I told them…

“Oh, it looks like he has you scheduled to come in for an induction tomorrow at 5.”

Yes, yes he does! So no matter what I’m coming back anyway. Please don’t make me leave!

The nurses looked at each other… “Let’s take you to a room and see where you’re at.”

They didn’t sound too hopeful. I think I was getting off on pity, but I did not care one bit…

So they gave us a room. I put on a hospital gown. This was too good to be true. Oh how I hoped my contractions would pick up again and that I would be dilated!

They hooked me up to the machine to measure the contractions and the baby’s heartrate. And there I sat. Watching. Waiting. Please line, MOVE! And it was. A little. I was definitely having contractions. But I could barely feel them.

Wow, this is labor!? This isn’t so bad.. Ha!

Then, slowly, I started to feel them again. And the line was getting a little higher with each one. The nurse came in to check me. This was the real test. Come on body, please be doing what you’re supposed to be doing!

“Oh wow, you’re at 3 cm!”

Yes!!!! I. was. Elated.

“Looks like you can stick around.”

I was on cloud nine. Come on contractions. Keep on keepin’ on.

But pretty quickly my hopes reversed. I stopped wishing for contractions and contrarily wished for longer breaks in between them. Seriously, after the nursed checked me, the contractions started again in full force! They quickly turned from 5-10 minutes apart to 2-3 minutes apart, and we had only been at the hospital an hour or so at this point.

And now I know why the ladies are screaming in the movies… I think I did a pretty good job of holding it together. Ask John though, I may be making things up. But I never screamed, I don’t think I cried. I just spent a lot of time heavy breathing and staring at that screen praying for the line to go down and stay down.

“Are you getting an epidural?” the nurse asked.

If you would have asked me a month before, I would have told the nurse no… I hadn’t closed my mind to it completely, but I wanted so badly to try and experience the whole process naturally. Not so I could boast to the world that I had a natural labor and delivery, but because I wanted to feel it all. Every contraction, every push, every pain, every ounce of every feeling that existed while bringing my baby into the world. And I explained that to my OB. But at one of my final appointments he told me that I was going to want it. My baby was big and I was going to really want it. So I should open my mind to it now and be okay with it.

I respect my OB a ton. And I believed him whole-heartedly. If he thought it was a good idea, I would listen to him… I didn’t want to at first, but I can honestly say now I am so glad I did!

So when the nurse asked me, I said Yes! And since I was going to get it for sure, my thought was, give it to me as soon as you can. No sense in wasting time being in pain when I can be pain-free and resting.

She said I could get the epidural once I reached 5 cm. And at 3 am I was there! I was a little nervous about having a giant needle shoved into my back, but I just hugged a pillow and prayed and it was over before I knew it. And it literally felt like a pinch compared to those contractions that had been so close for the past 3 hours…

Ahhhhhhhh! It kicked in pretty quick and I was finally able to rest. And John did too. That cocktail had really made him sleepy… It was the wrong night for a drink hun!

So we slept.. Well, John slept. I closed my eyes and tried, but I was just too dang excited about the fact that I was meeting my baby in a few short hours and I could not fully commit to the shut-eye. So I laid there, watching the line go up and down. And I wasn’t feeling a thing! Best decision ever.

At one point, I started feeling the contractions again, so they gave me a boost of the epidural. Holy moly, talk about heaven. After that, I couldn’t even move my legs. Weirdest feeling on earth, but I was thankful for it.

So I laid there. Daydreaming about my little one that I would soon be holding in my arms. Boy or girl? I was so excited to find out.

My contractions continued on. And the baby’s heartrate was steady, perfect. All that worry about how and when this baby was going to arrive and here I was, in labor all on my own! Grateful doesn’t even begin to describe how I was feeling. God is good.

Around 10am the next morning the nurse was checking me again and that’s when my water finally broke! And I was numb. So I never got to feel what that feels like, but I’m not too worried about it…

And I was at 9 cm! Finally! That meant my Dr. was going to be there soon! I can so vividly remember him walking through that door. I was literally beaming. So proud. “I did it! ALL on my own!”

“Yes, and you are really pushing out these contractions. You are going to have this baby very soon” he said.

We did some practice pushes. And again, no class, zero preparedness. I had no idea what I was doing. But he said I did excellent and now it was just a waiting game to get to 10.

Man oh man, that last centimeter felt like forever. All night long every time they checked me there was change, but the last couple hours it seemed to slow down. I don’t think it actually did, I was just tired from being up all night and so so anxious to meet my baby!

Around 12:00 my epidural started to wear off again. And it was too late to give me another boost. But I was at 10 cm!

“It’s a little early for you to start pushing. I’d like the baby to drop more, but since the epidural is wearing off, we’re going to have you start. It might mean you are going to have to push a little longer, but hopefully that’s not the case.”

I was so excited. It was time! I didn’t even care about the fact that I might be pushing for a while. I get to start pushing!! This was the final stage. Baby I can’t wait to meet you!

At this point, I was very thankful for the epidural, because I was starting to feel the contractions again. There I was, no sleep all night, having been in labor for over 15 hours. I couldn’t imagine having to deal with the pain of those contractions that entire time and now have the energy to push!

But to be honest it worked out perfect. I was a little nervous about pushing while being completely numb… Because how do you know if you’re pushing right? I could feel every contraction now and I knew when I needed to be pushing. My Dr. had me do three, ten-second pushes each contraction. My made up technique was push pretty hard on the first two, and then give it everything I had on the last one. And it worked. My doctor couldn’t believe how fast the baby was coming. Especially since we started pushing early.

I was exhausted. But all I could keep thinking about was the fact that in probably minutes I was going to meet my baby. I was going to find out if my baby is a boy or a girl. I was going to find out if I was meeting Luca or Felicity (The two names we had picked). I kept repeating them in my head, over and over. It helped me get through those final pushes that were so incredibly hard.

I don’t know if this has happened to anyone else, but during my final minutes of pushing I was experiencing the most horrible heartburn. So bad, I was eating Tums in between pushing…

“You can see the head! There’s a ton of hair! And it’s dark!” John said.. And I threw my head back and laughed… What!? I’m supposed to have all bald children… But then, I was also supposed to have a C-Section. And here I was. God knew what he was doing. This was his plan. And I was just along for the ride.

Contraction, push 1, push 2, push 3 and I pushed with all of my heart and strength. And then it happened. The head was out and the next contraction my Dr. would guide out the body. All I had to do was push a little and then keep breathing.

Time Stopped. The moment was here. All those months of waiting and dreaming of the moment I get to meet my child and here I was. It was happening.

One final push and then breathe. Breathe. Breathe. And then I saw him. My baby. MY baby. The doctor held him up and I heard John say the words I’d been waiting to hear….

“It’s a boy!”

And I cried.

 

A flood of emotion swept through my entire body. I have a son. He is my son. I am a mommy.

 

“And what is HIS name?” My doctor asked…

“Luca… Luca John”

 

Then my doctor handed him to me. So tiny. So fragile. The most perfect little being I had ever laid my eyes on. I laid him across my chest as the tears rolled down my cheeks. I don’t even remember how long we laid there. My son and I. Time had completely stopped. I was in heaven.

 

When I finally came back down to earth I really really looked at him. He was so beautiful. Can a boy be beautiful? Then, I remembered all those appointments. The measuring, the worrying…

He does not look huge. In fact he looks tiny. And I asked the nurse to weigh him. I wanted to know so bad.

I handed him to her and my doctor guessed Luca's weight… “8 pounds 1 ounce.”

I laughed. “Wasn’t he supposed to be a giant?”

“Oh, those measurements aren’t always super accurate. And I always measure large.”

Thanks… Thanks for telling me that… wow! And I rolled my eyes.

The nurse put him on the scale… 8 pounds 1 ounce!

My doctor was exactly right. Man was he good. But I guess he’s had a lot of practice…

 

And again I say… All those crazy thoughts and all those crazy plans in my head, pointless. All along I had expected a huge baby, 9+ pounds, and completely bald. But Luca, he was completely average in size and his hair. His HAIR! It was dark, long. The nurse had to wash it and comb it! Who was this child? He was nothing at all like I had imagined. He was better. He was God’s design. And he was perfect. Perfectly made in His image. And perfectly made for me.

 

 

Looking back on my labor and delivery, all I can think about was how perfectly it went. All the worry. All the fears. All the tears. Thinking I was going to have him early. Thinking I would have to be induced.  Thinking I was going to need a C-Section. Thinking there was no possible way I was going to have this baby on my own. And there I was. 16 hours of labor and approximately 40 minutes of pushing later and I was holding my baby. My son. My little Luca John.

After reflecting on Luca’s birth story, my mind immediately goes to one of my favorite scriptures. Matthew 6:27 “And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?” I had worried. I had been anxious. And all of that worrying did me no good. Worrying about when Luca was going to enter this world was utterly pointless. God knew when he was going to arrive. God had a perfect plan. Nothing I did or thought made any difference at all.  

Through all of this, God truly taught me about patience and trust. I did not want to wait for my baby that extra week, but I did and I made it. I thought I knew how everything was going to go and what my baby was going to look like, but I am only a human and I was wrong. It was God’s plan to have me go into labor the day before my induction. It was God’s plan that my baby weighed only 8 pounds, and it was God’s plan that my baby have a head full of hair. Small things to most people, but huge in my mind. Those things were God’s way of telling me… You may think you know it all, but just remember, I am in control...

 

 

Luca, I love you, more than words can describe. Happy First Birthday, my son.