the season of goodbyes

I was the person who never knew loss or death or any real tragedy. Into my adulthood, my family remained complete - with rare injuries and sickness - and no needs for any goodbyes.

Then it was my grandma, my dad's mom - who we never expected to say goodbye to. A bladder surgery, followed by complications, followed by what we all thought was Alzheimer's - but now I really think was toxicity from a serious uti/kidney infection - and then she was sick and then she was gone. For the last year or so it was hard. She wasn't the same and would ask questions that showed her mind was years in the past - she knew me but she thought I was in high school rather than college and with the loss of bladder control - the smell of their home was difficult at best. So, we didn't visit as often that year and we said goodbye to the grandma we had known before she was really gone - but then when she went, the pain she felt, the struggle - it was hard - and the unsaid truths lingered - it was hard feeling like we should have done more to get her healthy, but no one had known she was sick. We always said that in the end it would be that way - she was such a servant and the consummate hostess a proverbs 31 example to us all, and a product of the 50s housewife generation - she would never admit that she was hurting or didn't have everything under control - it just wasn't done. In the end, she was surrounded by almost all of her family, praying, laughing, loving, living. This was my first taste of death - my first goodbye - lessened by knowing that she was now in heaven and felt no more pain - but life changing all the same. She was and is missed.

My grandpa - he was never really the same after she left him - and I'm not quite sure he ever really got over it - after all he was always the sick one with open heart surgeries and the rest - he was always supposed to go first - but instead he outlived her by years - his love, his life. He lived with my parents and then on his own, and eventually was sick enough to need to be in a medically supported nursing home. In and out of the hospitals, time and again, the claimed he wouldn't make it time and again - and to be honest we were never quite sure if he wanted to come back to us. My papa - he loved me - he wasn't expressive, he didn't share or talk about life or emotions - but his love for me was palpable. He was proud of me and loved my boys and was in awe of them and their beauty. After Owen was born he told me how proud he was to have a great grandson and Noah just added to his joy. 

In November, my little family ventured to the desert to make some decisions on our house and celebrate thanksgiving with my family. While we were there, we made the trek with my whole family to visit Papa in his "home" (which he called a prison and hated) about 2 hours from where my parents live in the town where my uncle and his family live. Papa was able to meet Noah for the first time and we were able to capture a few beautiful pictures and sort of say our goodbyes - as we didn't imagine that we would all be together again before he passed as we were not expecting to be in the desert again until we move back in July. 

Sure enough, on Christmas Eve as we headed up north to visit J's family, we got a call that my Papa who had been in the hospital with mrsa and pneumonia was being moved to hospice. To say that this put a damper on Christmas would be a bit of an understatement! I spent the next several days "celebrating" with a heavy heart - and by the 26th my MIL had offered to fly the boys and myself back home to say goodbye. I arrived in the desert on the evening of the 27th and my mom and I drove down to the VA the next morning. The nurses said that the babies shouldn't come in, so my parents stayed outside with the boys who were unhappy to see me leave after so much upheaval and constant travel - but eventually calmed with their grandparents. The family had all assembled - uncles and aunts and cousins - all holding vigil each day and night ensuring that he was never alone. They left to give me a moment alone with him - to say my own goodbyes - and everyone went outside to see the boys. I told him I loved him and that I knew it hurt and that it would be okay to let go and say goodbye - that grandma and Jesus were waiting for him - and I thanked him - I thanked him for loving me, for being the man he was, for everything he had done for us all. And within minutes - his breathing calmed and slowed and he was gone - all the while holding my hand. My papa and grandma were both gone - I held his hand for a while longer - having called my dad and telling him I thought it was close - although he didn't seem to believe me. He called back after I tried calling him a few more times, unsure of whether or not he was really gone, I never let go of his hand - not wanting to abandon him in his last moments if he wasn't quite gone - I told my dad that I thought he was gone and in moments the boys (my dad and uncles) had rushed the room - my aunts and cousins with tears in their eyes - and me not quite sure how to feel - and I'm still not - over a month later and I'm still not quite sure. My chest feels tight and swells when I think of it, but I can't really cry - I know his quality of life was less than I'd want for him and I know he's in heaven - what more could I want. Yet still there is an ache - not the ache of the unsaid as I had with my grandma - as I told him all of those things in our last moments alone - the ache is for the man I didn't get to know as fully as I'd like, the stories he'll never tell, for my father - the orphan, for my boys who won't remember their great-grandfather. I miss him - I want him back, but I don't want him to hurt - so I know that goodbye was best. And best that these goodbyes happen while the boys are too young to remember the pain. Yet, I'm struggling - I'm not bouncing back like I feel I should - I'm not sure if it's struggling to deal with the experience of being alone with him when he passed - but I don't think that's it - I think that was okay and I was glad to be that safe place for him to let go. I just...I just hurt - I'm withdrawn after nearly a month away from this place that we currently call home - from the end of October through the beginning of January - the boys and I were away from home for over 5 weeks - followed by our car being rear ended and then colds and terrible weather - we haven't seen our friends in months - we haven't been to playdates or had a routine - and now, the clock is ticking for the next big change and move - and the effort to reconnect only to face more goodbyes in only four months overwhelms me. And now, today we here that J's grandmother was placed on hospice and we must travel again to say our goodbyes and support my MIL as she loses her mother. 

It seems to be the season of goodbyes - and it is not a season I relish. I'm struggling with the change and the finality and the loss. I'm struggling to determine what I should hold onto and what I need to let go. This move back home, one I so looked forward to when we arrived, has now become a source of pain. I have friends and a life here - that I will miss - I don't like goodbyes - I don't like losing - I guess no one does - my heart is heavy for these losses, natural and necessary though as they may be. Pray for us - as we travel again - as we say goodbye again - as we find our way back to normal only to prepare for more changes. Such is life, and I, for one, am grateful to be alive.  

Happy Labor Day

Well, here we are - yet another holiday home alone with the kids - and I'm sure we're not the only ones - but just for fun let's discuss how we got here...

The week before last was rough...J worked late Thursday getting home around 9 then Friday he got stuck on another case and got home just after 8 - then he was on call Saturday worked regular days getting home between 5-6 Monday and Tuesday then call again Wednesday - and we were SOO looking forward to post-call Thursday and J had taken Friday off - so J was going to have 5 days off in a row - and we needed it after the last week! 

Then - guess what?! - an email went out Wednesday afternoon saying that - due to some scheduling snafus - the "junior" fellow needed backup support and wasn't ready to work completely alone and there was a big case Friday that need a more senior fellow - so the guy post-call would need to stay and do it...the wording of the email didn't exactly ask J to come in, but it sort of made it clear that he was really needed! So, of course, since we weren't planning on leaving town, we decided that J should go in to help and be available as backup for the weekend. 

We offered for him to work Friday so the post-call fellow could go home - then, and I'm not sure how this happened in the conversation, but the schedule for the whole weekend was reworked and J ended up on call today. Whatever, stinks, but we are used to it, not that big of a deal, and we were promised a different long weekend for helping out - great! 

So, we were a little bummed, but we had a normal weekend and J kissed me goodbye and was off to work this morning like normal and I went back to sleep - only unlike normal - this morning I got a call at 5:40 - J had stopped at 7-11 for an energy drink and the car key had broken off in the door! Are you kidding me? So, he needed me to come get him and bring him to work - now this was no easy feat with a two year old and a three month old. 

I lumbered out of bed and got dressed - changed diapers and dressed the boys and headed out. By the time we got to daddy at about 6 - both boys were thoroughly awake and crying. Then Noah decided he was hungry and proceeded to cry the entire 20 minute drive to take daddy to work - we were able to nurse in the parking garage before heading home - so Noah fell asleep full and happy, but by that point there was no getting Owen back to sleep. Now, here we are 3 hours later - on the day that feels like it may never end - and naptime just may happen by 10am - although Noah has been asleep for two hours - so I'm sure he'll be up as soon as Owen is down - no naps for Mama! It's going to be a couple of cups of coffee morning!

Such is life as a doctor's wife - hope everyone else is having a better holiday than I am! With or without your other halves!

sad...

My momma is gone. She and my dad left tonight at about seven to start their road trip back home to the desert. I held it together while they were leaving trying to make sure that Owen understood that they wouldn't be back in the morning and that we wouldn't be seeing them again for quite a while, and then not a full minute after I closed the door behind them, I had to get Owen distracted with a toy and I hid in the bathroom and cried - big time. They were here for about 15 days, but they both worked whole they were here and didn't come over until after Owen's afternoon nap most days - so I feel like I barely had time with them. And, of course, J is on call tonight and going golfing in the morning - this momma already misses her momma and isn't looking forward to doing g this alone! Here we go - time to start real life as a mom of two - with a hubby as a second year fellow - and no family less than 7 hours away! I know I can do this, but tonight, I just wanna pout a little! I want my mommy (complete with toddler stomp and pout)!

Oh and I do realize that after posting every day for a month, I haven't posted at all for the last month, but we are doing great and getting a routine down and I will be getting Noah's birth story finished up and be back to regularly scheduled posting again soon!

Blog Every Day in May: Day 18

Challenge Day 18: Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to be descriptive about what you remember and how you felt.

I should have seen it coming - I should have known that I didn't quite fit into the world they were entering - but I didn't see it. I didn't have a clue and I was completely and utterly blindsided. My best friend Jessica sat me down and handed me a note - a "Dear John" letter of sorts - informing me that we had grown apart and this was the "hardest letter she'd ever had to write" that I was so important to her and that we would always be friends, but that we just weren't best friends anymore.

This happened some time in the spring of my seventh grade year - my friends were beginning to experiment with boys and cigarettes and dieting that may have bordered on eating disorders - and I was still just a goody-goody little Christian girl - petrified of doing anything "wrong" and getting into "trouble." I was completely and utterly devasted - I wasn't heading in the direction that they were - I wasn't "cool" enough to be a part of the group anymore and I didn't know how to do anything about it. I was DUMPED and it wasn't by a boy - it was by all my friends in the world. I went to this junior high for these friends - I followed them there even though my parents had another school in mind.

I continued to sit with the group at lunch over the next few days, because I knew no one else and they had said that we were all still friends - I just lost my "best friend" status - yet after only 2-3 days - I was sat down again and told that maybe it was time that I should look for some new friends and somewhere else to sit at lunch. Now, my junior high was not a mega school - it was a small, private Christian school with about 60-100 people per grade level. I'm not sure how many kids were in our class that year, but we graduated with about 80 - and these 8 girls included the 6 that I had spent 2nd through 6th grade with and of the rest of our class there were a few other groups of girls that were all established and had been bonding for the last 6-8 months of the school year. Additionally, the girls that I had previously been friends with were the "cool" girls - otherwise known as the "mean girls"
 - that was another reason I had been "kicked out" because I wasn't really capable of participating in the mean, but I still was linked to them in everyone's minds - even if I wasn't directly mean to them - I was a "mean girl" by association.

So, instead of being welcomed into a new group - I was a social leper - with the other girls not sure what to make of me. I sat alone in the quad and ate my lunch trying not to cry for weeks. A few times I sat with various groups of girls, but I was never really welcomed in, so I read books, and I ate, and I sat alone - for most of the rest of the year. I was so ashamed and felt as though I didn't deserve friends and that no one would like me anyway. The people who knew me for years and years didn't want anything to do with me, so why would anyone new. I didn't tell my mom for a while, but she figured it out.

I look back, and think about the things that they were doing and it makes sense that they didn't want to be friends with me, and it makes sense that I didn't fit in the group any more - but it didn't change the feelings of abandonment and rejection. It doesn't change the fact that I still struggle to be genuine and let people get to know me on a close intimate level. It doesn't change the years that I spent doing and being who and what anyone and everyone wanted me to do and be - just so that they would like me. I made friends with a group of much nicer girls the next year - who I continued to be friends with through high school - but who I seldom speak to now. I went on to spend a lot of time and energy "making relationships work" - I dated people who I should never have dated, because they liked me and I liked being liked. I needed to be cared about and wanted - and I compromised a lot of who I was for that.

Thankfully, the Lord pulled me out of the cycle and provided me with the most amazing man to marry - who loves me fully and completely - even the ugly and the hurt. The Lord gave me a family who whether we agree or disagree or fight or whatever else - we love each other fiercely
 and will always protect and support one another. And now in this new town - where I had no family and I had a husband who fully loved and supported me and had helped me gain a significant amount of strength and confidence in myself, but who had to work A LOT - in this new town, the Lord is teaching me about trusting other women. He is teaching me about having friends - it is still a struggle, and there is still a piece of that twelve year old girl inside of me wondering why she did wrong and why no one likes her. But, that voice telling me that no one likes me and no one ever will is getting quieter - and God's voice is getting louder - the voice that tells me that I was fearfully and wonderfully made and that I am exactly who He created me to be. I can't make everyone like me - I can't make everyone want to be my friend - but I can be the me that God wants me to be - I can be fully and completely myself - no apologies - and I can trust that the Lord will provide me with the right friends, rather than just any friends. I can trust that He will provide me with friends who will love and support me and who will like me just as I am, while inspiring me to grow. And those friends - are way better than the friends who you have to constantly work to impress and who you have to constantly question and assess and keep trying to change who you are to keep around.

Blog Every Day in May: Day 7

Day 7 Challenge: The thing(s) you're most afraid of

 I've never been big on being afraid - really of anything - other than emotional stuff like rejection, etc. and I will NOT watch any movie about demons/ghosts/exorcisms or anything like that - I believe in a very real spiritual realm and I just won't open doors to any of that - heck no, techno! Even with my limited experience with fear, I wouldn't say I was ever the reckless stupid type, I've always been more of the cautious goody-goody type and that prevents a lot of reckless/stupid - not all, but a lot. Anyway, I was the baby playing with spiders and lizards in the backyard - always the Daddy's girl - and I know my mom and even my brother called me to catch many a bug growing up. I'm not afraid of snakes or really of heights or anything like that, but since becoming a mom - the thing I am most afraid of...like so afraid of I can barely type it "out loud"....is dying - especially dying young. 

I know that this is a common fear, but it's one that has been entirely new to me. I grew up knowing that being "absent from the body, is to be present with the Lord" - so I was never scared of dying - sure I was scared that however I died might hurt, but the death part, not so much. Heaven sounded pretty cool and I always felt like when it was my time it would just be my time and so be it. 

Yet, now, things are different. I'm still not scared of dying for myself - I know I'll be "all good" up there - but I'm scared for what it would mean for J and for my kids. Sure, I'm afraid of how we would make it without J, but it scares me more to think how they would suffer without me. Kids without a mom, how J's career would suffer, and how different all of their lives would be. Not to say I'm just soo super awesome and I could never be replaced, but I'm their MOM and you really can't replace that. I have never heard a single person of any age, who had lost their mom, who was not still struggling with it years later - we need our mommas, whether we are 2 or 5 or 22 or 55 - moms are really, really important - and I want to do everything I can to be here for these boogers and their daddy for a good, long time! I know that I am not in control and that God is, and that there is nothing I can do to change whatever there is to come - but there really is nothing that scares me more than leaving my family behind and the aftermath of that pain. I have faith that if anything were to ever happen to me that God would give my boys/men the strength to carry on and He would protect them and give them the love and support they needed from a plethora of sources - I just don't want them to ever have to know that reality. 

Wow, that was kinda a yucky, deep, bummer of a post --- scroll on down and enjoy some ultrasound cuteness to lighten the mood! 

I love you boys (and J) and I thank and praise the Lord for each and every day of my life with you!

Sick and alone...

So, it's been another month and here we are with Medical Mondays again - I have LOVED participating in this blog hop and finding so many new blogs to read and follow - I haven't been fantastic about leaving comments, but I am working on getting better with that! If you're here from MM - welcome! SO glad to have you here! I'm Jessica, mom to Owen (21 months) and soon to be mom to Noah (34 weeks in my tummy), and wife to J - a first year ped. surgery fellow here in the Midwest! Feel free to look around and stay a while - we are always looking to make new friends!

One thing that I didn't realize would be coming when I married my then resident and now fellow was all of the travelling. I knew he'd be on call and all of that, but I didn't realize we'd spend months on end with him off interviewing for fellowships, weeks away for board review courses and tests, and the conferences that seem to be happening far too often. Now, I see some of the other wives and families totally taking advantage of these conferences and heading off with their med. spouses and making a family trip out of it (which we plan to do with the next one in October) - but that isn't always feasible - I mean, I am 34 weeks pregnant!

Anyway, this last week - J was away at another one of these conferences - he left our house at about 4am Wednesday morning and returned home at 11pm last night - and now for the kicker - he's on call today! LOVELY! I guess we'll see him tomorrow! So, enough with setup already - let's get to the sick and alone part....

It seems inevitable that with as much as J is gone - he's not going to be around when some a lot of things happen. Last year, when he was away what I'm pretty sure was this same conference - although it could have been another - Owen and I contracted some HORRIBLE stomach virus and we were both down for the count. It was completely terrifying watching my 9 month old throwing up over and over scared, because he didn't understand what was wrong with his body - and being so sick myself that at one point - I just threw up on the carpet right on top of the baby vomit I was attempting to clean up! I convinced J to stay at his conference (we couldn't afford a last minute flight home anyway) and we eked through the week, survived the terrible tummy bug, and managed to be mostly better by the time daddy got home (although clearly didn't rid the house of the germs well enough because J got whatever we had the day after he got home!).

So, this year - J was prepared - especially knowing how far along I would be in this pregnancy - he went off to his conference and he made sure that his mom would come visit us for the weekend - so we wouldn't be alone. Unfortunately, he was right to have worried! Wednesday morning I woke up with a killer migraine and you really can't take anything but Tylenol while pregnant - so that didn't help much - thankfully Owen's Cars obsession saved me and allowed us to spend most of the day cuddled up on the couch watching both movies in the dark - by midday Thursday I was feeling much better - I chalked it up to Murphy's Law that I/we only seem to get sick when J is 1/2 a country away, but we made it through - with some convincing again that J didn't need to come home as his mom was coming in Friday afternoon.

My MIL arrived and we were able to spend the rest of the weekend getting lots of freezer meals prepped for when Noah arrives and doing some other prep - but of course my migraine wasn't the end of the "my-hubby-is-away-and-couldn't-possibly-get-back-to-help" drama! Saturday night I started having contractions - more than just a little minor Braxton Hicks tightening, but not super bad either - I had quite a few while we were out to dinner and called J to let him know (effectively ruining his evening and scaring the poo out of him) and I went home to chug some water and lay down - contractions subsided and baby is still in there baking away - but I'm fairly certain that J doesn't plan on leaving us at home and going to any more conferences any time soon! Although, I seem to do the same to him when he's on call too and he can't really avoid that (if you haven't read Owen's birth story - J was on call when I went into labor last time and had to scramble in the middle of the night to get someone else to the hospital).

How about you? Does everything seem to fall apart when your spouse leaves town or is on call? It seems like in this house - if something is going to go wrong, it will only happen when it is impossible for J to help/be there!

Tired Momma

This momma is tired. Like the tired in your bones that just doesn't go away - yet somehow, here I am in the middle of the night, watching TV and blogging because as much as I want and need the sleep it just won't come. I had an even harder time sleeping last week between the first (2/4) and second (2/13) ultrasounds - praise the Lord that the second one went so well and I was able to sleep again - but adding to that J was on call every other day last week after we got back from the desert. Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday - then Tuesday again and Saturday again then Tuesday again. That means that he hasn't had an actual day off in over two weeks - sure he had post call days after all of those call days, but he also went back in for an emergency on post call day and he worked late at least 3 of the regular work days between all of the those call days. So, that means I've seen my hubby for like 3.2 seconds since our trip - oh and last Saturday he had to take his standardized test for this year - so half that time he was home - he was either studying or stressing about not studying! ughh!

February has not been good to us!

Plus somewhere in there I attempted to go to a babywearing meeting and felt totally ignored and left bawling on the phone to J at work (where he really was far to busy to try to comfort his ridiculous, pregnant *read hormonal* wife). I was looking for some help and input on woven wraps and they were really busy helping everyone else and I guess I just didn't speak up enough - I was hoping to borrow a wrap from the lending library too and even that didn't happen. So, I just bought one online and watched videos to figure this whole thing out for myself. There is definitely a learning curve, but I think I'm figuring it out and Owen seems more than willing to help me out and loves cuddling momma in his "ba-pa" (backpack). 

Ahh, finally asleep - please stay that way until morning!

It's hard work growing a baby and taking care of a toddler and Owen is definitely getting super needy lately. He wants to be held nearly constantly and is loudly and forcefully making his wants and needs known. Add to that some lovely 18 month old sleep regression, which I'm told is normal and it's been extra hard. At least 3 times this week (and as many last week), Owen fought his naps for upwards of two hours - getting out of bed, standing in bed, screaming, crying, rocking in the rocking chair, reading books, singing - I have tried literally everything. I've tried sitting with him, I've tried laying in his bed, I've tried being mean and scary voiced mommy, I've tried leaving him alone to cry it out. He just keeps fighting and fighting and fighting sleep - even though I KNOW that he is tired - getting cranky, rubbing his eyes, yawning. He willingly goes upstairs with me to go to bed, but once we're there it's a whole other story. As for bedtime, he does a little better, but insists that I sit in the rocking chair until he falls asleep, and if he isn't all the way asleep and I try to sneak out, even with talking to him, he ends up getting himself so worked up that by the time he's calmed down again, the whole process takes even longer than it did the first time. He has always slept sooo well, but all of a sudden, it is really like he is scared to go to sleep, he doesn't seem to be being bad or defiant or playing (well sometimes he is being a stinker and playing) - mostly he just seems genuinely worried for me to leave him and I don't get it, is he having scary dreams, is he just developing more of a sense of self and my separation from him, or is he just being 1 1/2 and this is another phase that will pass? With all of this he's back to waking up in the middle of the night again 2 out of 3 nights at least twice - you can usually get him back down the first time, but the second or third is harder, and he ends up in our bed somewhere in the middle of most nights - which means bad sleep for everyone except Owen. Add to that his runny nose and junky nighttime cough that keeps waking him and making it hard to breathe

---

...like I said, this momma is tired - and if I'm as tired as I know I am, J has got to be barely hanging on, because at least Owen and I sleep in until 7:30-8:30 most mornings - J does all this and gets up between 4-5 most mornings (I do not envy that). We really need to get to bed earlier, but it's hard when you try to put Owen down at 8:30 and it's after ten by the time you can leave him. Lord, we need help with this sleep thing - help us know how to help Owen feel secure and get to sleep easily, help us to get things done and get to bed at a decent hour, give us deep restorative sleep so that we wake refreshed and ready to serve you at our best. Thank you, Lord! AMEN!

***oh and on a totally unrelated note - Owen is totally getting the whole praying before dinner thing and holds hands soo nicely and grins a huge grin when we all say Amen - add to that - he sings "This Little Light of Mine" all the time - it is SOO amazing seeing him begin to develop his own relationship with the Lord!***

12 weeks...

I was doing such a good job getting this blog started. Starting to document and share, and then came morning sickness...and Oral Boards...and Thanksgiving travel...and blogging went right out the window. Then somehow an entire month passed with nary a post!

Belly growing fast this time! Only up 2lbs!

So, morning sickness has been significantly worse this time. When I was pregnant with Owen, I felt crummy and sick the first trimester, but I ate crackers all day and I was ok - probably threw up a total of 2-4 times total. This time, I just haven't been. For weeks, I threw up at least once every day. I don't know if that means this one is a girl, or if it's just different - different chasing a toddler without the mental distraction of teaching a class of 26 Kindergarteners (5 of which were the most difficult children I've EVER dealt with - and I did Habilitation with kids with autism for 5 years). Or is it different because I'm trying not to constantly stuff my face with carbs, since I'm still carrying around 25 of the pounds I put on during my first pregnancy! Regardless of why, it's been hard - and I have felt like such a crummy mommy! More times than I'd care to count, Owen has stood "over" my shoulder patting and rubbing my back as I threw up. There is nothing sadder than your 15 month old having pity on you and being worried about his mommy!

Up next...Oral Boards. Ugh, I know that I wasn't the one that had to study and travel to Philly for a week and stress out and go through the incredible stress that is people purposely asking you tricky questions and trying to intimidate you and make you slip up - which of course J didn't! He was amazing like he always is and he passed - yay! But, I did have to deal with a hubby who was stressed and anxious for approximately a month prior - who was on call pretty much every other day for a week, then left for 7 days, then was on call the next day when he got back and 2 days after he got back - leading up to the day we left at 4am to go back to the desert for Thanksgiving! Ugh - all while taking care of a toddler alone and dealing with significant morning sickness. Then in Phx, Owen had some nasty diapers for a few days followed by J and I both ending up with a stomach virus Thanksgiving and Friday! YAY! Sooo sick, but while we were both miserable - Owen was happily destroying the hotel room feeling grand. Glad Owen never went down, but still curious how he gave it to both of us and never really got sick himself. Then we had some unexpected expense on our Thanksgiving trip and it is taking FOREVER to get our reimbursements from J's trip - err! Thankfully, God is good ALL the time and we found out that J's work covers a little over half of our deductible for the birth - so our monthly OB bill for the next 6 months went from $410 to $205! Yay, praise the Lord! That will make a huge difference for us!

Traveling Alone

This was our first/second trip without J - last time he left early - this time the whole first leg of the trip was without him. Because...well, because daddy was on call - which are words that Owen will have to understand far sooner than I'd like. J also had his written boards on Thursday and if we're being completely honest O and I kinda cramp his studying style.

During this trip, we had a milestone that I never considered...our first Skype date with daddy. Owen has Skyped with Oma and some of J's other family up north, and he says "hi, dad" pretty much every time he sees a phone, but we've never been away from daddy long enough to need to Skype. This kid broke my heart. At first, he patted daddy's face and babbled at the screen, but soon he was grabbing at the iPad, turning it around, and screaming - he couldn't figure out why daddy was inside and wouldn't come out - Owen was visibly upset and I finally had to hang up and console him. The poor kid had already been stopping to ask for "da-da-da, da da?" every few hours over the last three days (one day without daddy made sense to him, but after about 1/2 of the second day, he started to ask for him) and he really doesn't get why daddy hadn't shown up yet - especially since he had always seen both of us at his Momma's house before. So, Skype was a major mommy fail and I definitely made things worse not better.

The first few days of the trip were a little rough since O had six shots and a blood draw at his 12 month appt. right before we left for the desert. Fevers and a fussy baby followed for about 48 hours, followed by teething pain (molars suck by the way). He barely ate - he barely slept - he clung to me like a magnet - he convinced the entire family that they were completely forgotten and unloved (so untrue)! By Monday, we seemed to be back on track, two good naps, went down easy for both naps and bedtime - and a cheerful and more independent baby - who enjoyed some time with both his Momma and his Poppy (my parents). Additionally, after months of refusing to kiss me and turning his head and crying every time I tried to kiss him (enough to break a mommy's heart) - on Tuesday my 'little bit' flipped a switch and decided he likes to give mommy (and the rest of the family) kisses and will reward you with a big, sloppy, wet, open mouth kiss whenever you ask (and a few spontaneous ones of his own!!!).

I am still in awe at times and completely amazed that this really is my life, that Owen and J really are mine and this life that I wanted for so long - it's harder than I could have ever imagined, but it's also even better than I could have ever dreamed! God is so good! I don't know about the rest of you, but do you ever worry that you will wake up back in junior high (or any other prior point in your life) and realize that this whole life you've been living was only a dream! No?! Me neither, because I'm not crazy or anything...

To start our desert trip out, we had lots of family time, Owen bowled for the first time, and I loaded up on chocolate birthday/happy anniversary of having baby to me cake - and some of my favorite desert treats - greasy pizza, chinese, hamburgers, and of course lots and lots of Mexican food - there is not a speck of decent Mexican food to be found anywhere in this Midwestern state we now call home! Yummy, but not so good for the waistline!

Later in the week, we had one year old pictures, time with friends, and more time with my family - who I've really missed the last month since we moved. I've really missed home!