Thursday, April 21, 2011

Life's tough; get a helmet.

Doug just left. He's got an out-of-town meeting today, but first he was going to Visalia to stop at the hospital. His grandma has been unwell for some time and is now on life-support, so those decisions are being made.

Its been a long six months or so: in September, my step-grandpa died (I was grateful we'd been able to spend some meaningful, quality time with him on our last trip home last June); a few weeks later, a family friend passed away; my grandma has been in and out of the hospital a few times (she has leukemia and a broken hip); half the town went freaking nuts and caused a whole lot of stress, which led to Doug's boss resigning, which led to a new boss, which led to a crazy hostile work environment, which led to Doug quitting his job; so now we're on the hunt for a new job, whilst Doug finishes his professional project for his Master's degree; meanwhile, I've been pregnant through all the madness, and just welcomed a new baby. Throw in the daily challenges, stresses, mishaps and busyness of day-to-day, week-to-week life, and you have a recipe for a bit of emotional pandemonium.

And now Doug and his family are going to have to say goodbye to Grandma Barnes.

So, there it is, the reason I've been mostly MIA the last few months, and not just on my blog. I'm an introvert, and so my natural reaction when something is painful or difficult or stressful is to turn inward. I try to fight that, but the fact is I've been inching more and more towards hermit status in my daily life the last few months.

You know how when it rains, it pours? Life has been like this the last several months for most of our friends and extended family. Its a lot easier when one family kind of gets poured on and you can spread it around by reaching out to others who are having a bit more smooth sailing and therefore steady each other. But everyone has been slammed by circumstances that have caused them to struggle not to feel angry, frustrated, hurt and overwhelmed. Its just been a lot to absorb, adapt to, deal with, especially when most of the people you rely on for support feel emotionally or spiritually off-kilter as well.

But this morning I have been thinking about Easter, for the reasons that we celebrate--the life of the Savior and the Atonement--and about my own grandma's passing away and the importance of perspective. My twin brother and I were very, very close to my mom's mom; we spent nearly as much time in her care as we did my mom's, it seemed like. My aunt called the house to let us know that Grandma was gone, and I was tasked with telling my siblings. I found my twin brother at our dad's office working. I walked in and just said, rather weakly, "Grandma's gone". His eyes welled up with tears as he smiled, very genuinely, and replied, "Good for her." I was so grateful for that, because I knew that he meant it--I needed that reminder. With that simple sentence and bright smile at a moment of grief, he reminded me that good-byes are not forever, and brighter blessings lay ahead.

For Family Home Evening this week, we talked about the last days of Jesus' life and the Resurrection. We talked about his prayers and the commencement of the Atonement in the Garden of Gesthemane, and his death upon the cross. As Keilana helped me explain how he was hung on the cross, Dylan said, "Ouchie. That would hurt really bad." I agreed and explained that Jesus felt every kind of owie and hurt that there is, so that he can always know how to make us feel better when we get hurt. We talked about repentance and forever families. That's the perspective that matters--the perspective that keeps us joyful even in stressful times or hard losses.

When Doug left his job, he asked me if I was upset or worried. My response was that, even in the worst case scenario I can imagine stemming from that decision, my babies won't go hungry and they'll have a safe place to sleep at night. The rest we can work out. From a temporal perspective, we've had a hard six months. From an eternal perspective, we're just fine, and we're going to be OK. So are our loved ones.

I think the hardest thing I've ever been through, emotionally, was saying good-bye to Conner, and watching Tim and Amanda hurt. I still have nightmares occasionally about losing one of my children. If that happened and I didn't have the Gospel, I think that emotionally I would be completely crippled. I am so grateful to know that the Savior knows loss, loneliness, grief and pain better than anyone, and so the one perfect and utterly guiltless being, submitted himself to the demands of justice for the transgressions of others, so that those feelings need not be permanent for anyone. I am grateful to know that even the one thing that seems so final, so complete--death--holds no real power, because he conquered it in the Resurrection.

As Easter approaches, I am grateful to know that he lives. I am grateful that he loves me and is mindful of me--of that I am absolutely certain. I am grateful that he has blessed my life so abundantly that even during times of stress and difficulty, there are a ridiculous amount of things to be grateful for and happy about. I know that the Savior gave all that we might be able to obtain all that he received. Day by day, I strive to live to be worthy of such a gift.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Happy

So its been a few weeks, but we're still here and we're doing well. A whole lot going on lately, and a whole lot going through my head. I promise that once I get it sorted out for myself, I'll start writing/posting more. In the mean time, thank you for your inquiries about me/the baby/the kids/Doug's schooling and work, and know that we are happy and have been very blessed. Keira is four weeks old today, and she's starting to show a bit of personality. I don't know much about her yet, but I'll let you know as we figure it out.

But she's already smiling. On purpose. That has to be a good sign.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Keira

Our little leprechaun finally arrived last week. I was supposed to go in to L&D at 7am last Thursday, but Kaweah Delta got totally slammed that morning--seriously, they had women delivering in triage--so I got a call at 6:15am that I was going to have to wait. I was not patient about that. Thankfully, I got a call at about 11:30 that some beds had opened up and we could come in, so we left the kids with Mom (she'd flown in the night before) and headed to Visalia.

At two full weeks overdue with baby number four, my body had made virtually no progress; I'm starting to think that if I left it up to my babies, I really would be pregnant for 10 months at a time! Anyway, I got a dose of meds to get things moving, which did very little. So four hours later, I got another dose, with did a tiny bit more. I hate that part--that's what I hate about having to be induced, just sitting in the hospital, waiting. Its so mind-numbingly boring. Anyway, at about 9 that evening, Rita came in and checked and figured I was far enough along that she could break my water.

So immediately after that I started getting real contractions (yay!) and started doing the walking-the-labor-and-delivery-loop thing, which seemed to help things along. About an hour later I was at a 5 (I had been at a 2.5 when she broke my water) and the baby had definitely moved down, so I was hoping I might still get my St. Patrick's Day baby after all. About a half an hour after that, the contractions were at a point that I couldn't really walk or stand any more so the nurse checked and called Rita. She was so cute as she was rolling me to the recovery ward she said, "Rita asked how it was going and I said, 'Well, I don't know--she's at a 7.5 or 8, but there's still a smile on her face.' Rita said, 'Ok, I'll be right there, it'll be gone in a minute.'" A half an hour later, at 11:10pm, Keira arrived. (Side note: I didn't want an epidural after my experience with Kylie, and it was totally the right decision--much better to do it drug-free, in the long run).

When I saw her, the first thing out of my mouth was, "You're so tiny!" She looked like a little shrimp--short, no rolls anywhere, and hardly any cheeks to speak of! I thought she was going to be in the 7 pound range, she looked so little. It turns out that she weighed 8 pounds and 1 ounce, but she was only 19 inches long. There had been meconium when they broke my water, so Rita had to get her all suctioned out and she looked a little grey, but she put her lungs to good use immediately, which pinked her right up. She screamed and screamed, and not that newborn, bleating cry: it was more like an opera wail. This little girl can shriek! Once I nursed her, she calmed down pretty quick, and has been pretty calm since we brought her home, but there's not really a middle ground when she gets upset--she just goes from 0 to 60 in seconds.

The kids are all really excited and fight over whose turn it is to hold her. We're all adjusting pretty well (we'll see how Kylie does once her playmates are done with spring break and go back to school this week!)
Right after delivery--shrieking away!

Photographic evidence that she isn't as shrimpy as I want to think she is.

Yaya with all the girls, the day after we got home from the hospital.

Hanging out on her new quilt from Grandma Umphrey.

My four little monsters:)

Usually pretty calm and content--lets hope it stays that way!

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

On having a houseful of young children

Dylan: "Where's mommy?"

Doug: "She ran away and joined the circus."

Dylan: "Nnnoooooo!!!!"

Doug: "She was tired of all the chaos around here; she needed some stability."


Baby photos/update coming soon, I promise. . .she's doing very well.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Mixed signals

When Kylie was given a name
and a blessing as a newborn,
we were told that she would be
"quick to smile"
I assumed that was a delightful promise
and it was.
Little did I know
it was also
a warning.
Heaven help me.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Waiting. . .

Curses. Still pregnant. Part of me really, really hopes that she'll stay put until my mom gets here so that Yaya can meet her right away. The rest of me is simply screaming, "GET OUT ALREADY!" I feel like a whale. Everything hurts, but this week I just decided that if I'm going to be physically miserable either way, then by golly I'm going to be productive and at least not be psychologically miserable. I have found that I simply cannot understand people who are content to loaf about in life (at least for more than a week). Accomplishing so little on a daily basis the last few weeks has made me absolutely insane! I don't generally think of myself as a busy person (if you watch people like my mom or my sister or a few of my incredibly multi-tasking friends, it seems like my days are rather simple), but I really hate feeling unproductive. I'm looking forward to moving with ease and lifting heavy things and being able to run. I've kind of run out of space for my lungs, so I'm actually looking forward to being able to take a full breath. As most of you know, I have a tendency to talk way too fast at times, and if I do that right now, I get a little winded. Even if I'm just sitting down. Super, super annoying. So walking to the park with the kids is a fair amount of work, and I just find that irritating. I'm looking forward to being me again soon!

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Megamind!

For some reason
Kylie thinks that standing on something high
with a remote control in each hand
and pointing said controls at the dog
or her brother or sister
and yelling
"Megamind!"
in a deep voice
makes her all powerful.