Four Stories

STORY #1:
Seth: "Mom, I made you this juice (colored water concoction)! Can you guess what it's called?"
Me: "No, what's it called?"
Seth: "Cancer."
How could I resist a nice, cool glass of cancer?

STORY #2
Catherine, showing me her wet, clean hands: "Mommy, I did it!"
Me: "Oh, did you wash your hands? Good job!"
Seth, from the bathroom: "Yes, but she did it in the toilet."

STORY #3
Seth, holding an adorable fluffy lamb Beanie Baby: "Mommy, this is my new baby. Do you know his name?"
Me: "Nope. What's his name?"
Seth: "Crusty."
Me: "Crusty?"
Seth: "Yep, because he's been dead for a long time."
(addendum: I have also heard him referring to the lamb as "Crispy." Not sure which I like better).

STORY #4
Seth, after dinner last night: "Mommy, thank you for the poison!"

The Next One

The first time was a surprise. Just a slightly late, slightly abnormal period. But I wondered, so I went in to the doctor. "Most likely a very early miscarriage." But I was okay. It's hard to mourn something you didn't know you had until it was gone.

Also, antibiotics and birth control don't mix. For real.

The second time was harder. The night Catherine was born I was laying on the hospital bed next to her when I got a very clear impression: "The next one is coming sooner." Obviously Heavenly Father knows me VERY well--he gave me plenty of advance warning (this is how it has to be with me--otherwise my kids would probably end up five years apart. Let's just say I get a little terrified).

And so, sooner than I would have chosen on my own, we were ready to try for baby #3. Everything seemed to be going so well--I was pregnant quickly and the baby was due the end of May. We've been hoping for a May baby from the beginning. I felt like my impression was being confirmed--everything would go well because we were being obedient to my prompting.

But I started bleeding at five weeks. And there went our May baby. But even though I was sad, I felt relieved in a way. You hear the statistics all the time--how 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. Other than my little oops above, I had never miscarried. I felt like this was it--I had paid the piper and now everything would be well.

It took longer than I hoped before I was pregnant again. But now it was December and everything seemed to be going well. We would tell our families at Christmas that baby #3 was on the way!

And then, once again, at five weeks I started bleeding. This time I didn't do so well. It seemed so unfair--weren't we doing what we were supposed to? So why wasn't it working out? Why couldn't we keep these babies?

I found myself pulling away from people, which is not easy to do during the holidays. I spent our ward Christmas party sitting in a hallway trying to avoid talking to people. But how grateful I was for two good friends who noticed that things weren't right and stopped to sit and talk with me. I will always remember their compassion that night.

I also need to apologize to Aaron & Ashley, who came out early to spend time with us before Christmas. It's hard to be a good hostess (or wife, or mother, really) when you're mourning and angry. But they were a huge blessing--they were they ones who played with Seth & Catherine and made them laugh when I wasn't feeling up for it.

As the days passed (and the hormones calmed down), I started to feel better. Christmas was lovely and peaceful--just what I needed. But I was still confused. That was our last chance for a baby to come "sooner." Seth and Catherine are 31 months apart. Even if we got pregnant right away (which I doubted) and even if I didn't miscarry again (which I also doubted), baby #3 and Catherine would be 31 months apart.

Which is exactly what happened. Come January I was pregnant again, but this time I couldn't be hopeful. But then I made it past 5 weeks. Then 6. And everything was fine (meaning I was nauseous and exhausted). But I still couldn't bring myself to take a pregnancy test. Somehow I felt like I would jinx everything.

But I told my family at 7 weeks. We were all together for Grandpa's funeral and it felt right to share some good news during our mourning. Plus this baby would be due September 20th--Grandpa Bud's birthday.

And everything was still well at 8 weeks. At 9 weeks I finally took the test, but only to appease Bethany, who was so perplexed as to WHY I wouldn't just take the stupid test. I tried to explain that it's pretty obvious that I 'm pregnant (sick, tired, bloated, eating every 30 minutes...), so why bother, but she wasn't having it. And--surprise!--I was pregnant. And for the first time, I felt safe.

I waited until 14 weeks to go to the doctor, partially because I hate going to all the appointments and wanted to postpone as long as possible, but also because I was still afraid. Afraid that I would go in and there would be no heartbeat--no baby.

My appointment was Friday. I had a slight moment of fear when the doctor announced that I was only measuring at 10-12 weeks instead of 14. But by some miracle we were able to go in for an ultrasound that afternoon. And here's what we saw:

(yes, I realize it's a creepy picture. But they didn't print off any of the cute ones where you could see the tiny arms and legs all curled up. Instead you get The Alien).

A beautiful, perfect little baby with a perfect, strong heartbeat. Even at 14 weeks (or actually, 14 weeks 6 days according to the ultrasound measurements) it already looked just like a baby. Tiny little fingers and toes, a tiny little mouth. And everything, EVERYTHING, was perfect.

And so we're officially announcing the impending arrival of baby #3, who should make an appearance sometime between Sept. 14th and 20th.

And the nurse and I both caught a sneak peek that made us pretty sure that we have another little boy on our hands. But we'll have to wait to confirm that detail for another month or so!

Even though I don't understand everything, I feel at peace. Maybe I got that prompting because we needed to get through all those miscarriages first? Or maybe "the next one" meant one of the miscarriages? I don't know. But I am practically giddy to finally have this little one on the way!

Catherine At Two

Our beautiful little girl.

Dear Catherine,

I thought child #2 would be so simple after child #1. After all, been there, done that, right? And in some ways it is--I'm much more relaxed about the whole thing now. But raising you has been an entirely new adventure. You are, quite literally, nothing like your brother. And I wouldn't change it for the world.

You are independent, always wanting to do things yourself. You are ALWAYS on the go--always jumping or climbing or generally getting into trouble. You make your wishes known very clearly, and quite often. You're also a snuggler--I love reading books with my little Princess bug on my lap. Cooking dinner with you in my arms, however, isn't nearly as sweet, but we manage. You just wants to be where I am--to see (or do) what I'm doing. You drive me crazy and I adore you. 

You bring such joy into our family. You're obsessed with having everyone home together--you run through the roll call every night at dinner (usually during the middle of the prayer): "Mommy! Daddy! Seth!" And if someone is missing, you are so concerned. You miss Daddy desperately while he's at work. Same with Seth during preschool. You're the happiest when we're all there together. 

Baby Girl, I love you so. You've amazed me every day for two years and I have no doubt you will amaze everyone for the rest of your life. Happy Birthday, Princess. We love you so.

Here are some of the things you're up to at two years old:

-you are 100% potty trained, but only when you have absolutely nothing on your bottom. Panties, diaper, or even just pants? Forget it. Which leads to this:

-you prefer to spend your day stark naked. Who cares if it's the middle of winter and 66 degrees in the house?

-you love to draw. You'll frequently ask for your "cunnins" (colors) and set to work creating beautiful artwork. More often than not, however, you'll sneak off to another room and color on your face. Which is why the colors are up high.

-you can finally say your own name! "Cafin."

Trying to get a picture of her in the dress I wore as a kid.

This was the best I got.

-size 4 shoes, size 3 diapers, size 18 month clothing (with a few 12 month holdouts). You were 34 inches tall and 21 pounds at your checkup--50% for height, not even on the scale for weight.

-you're having another word explosion, which means you're speaking in sentences now. Usually only one or two words, but still... You even gave me a full report on nursery this week. "Snacks. In the mouth. Play and play, Emma. Cook and cook." Translation: I ate some snacks and played in the kitchen with Emma. 

-you are completely and utterly terrified of the stink bugs we find in our house. You go into complete hysterics when you see one. Then for days afterward you point to the spot where the bug was and say, "Bug! BUUUUUUUUGGGG!"

(Who wouldn't be terrified of these stupid things? Especially in your house?)

-every time Seth picks up one of the stink bugs and throws it out the door/flushes it down the toilet, you say, "Seth, hero!" And he eats it up.

-you would live in the tub. You ask for "splash and splash" repeatedly every day. Now that Seth can turn on the tub himself I have to be vigilant--twice I've come upstairs to find you both naked in the tub with no help from me.

-your hair is a horrid matted mess after every nap/bedtime. You get it from me--so sorry.

-your favorite part of your kitchenette is the fake cell phone. You'll hand it to me and insist that I talk to Emma before running off with it yourself.

-you'll fight your brother and father for the Kindle now. You want to play "monkey" (Monkey Preschool Lunchbox). You have no idea what's going on, but you LOVE the monkey.

-you also love Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, which you watch on Youtube during lunch. As soon as I start making lunch, you start asking for "meess mouse, meess mouse!" Goofy is your favorite.

-you spend quite a bit of time pretending to be a cat. You'll be in the middle of doing something and spontaneously start meowing. You'll even drop down and crawl around occasionally.

-you'll turn on the music on my keyboard and insist that we dance. "Daddy, dance! Mommy, dance!" You think it's hilarious. And you clearly got your moves from your father. Lucky you.

-speaking of dancing...when we first started letting you run around naked, I caught you doing this sultry little dance on the couch. The best part? You were singing "stiiiiiiiiink buuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmm, stiiiiiiiiiink buuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmm" to yourself while dancing (neither of us have any idea where you got this from). So now we call it the Stink Bum Dance, and you still do it frequently, but only when you're naked and especially when you can see your own reflection in the fridge.

-you're starting to give up naps. You'll currently skip about two naps a week. I hate to see them go, but it's not so bad since Seth isn't napping either.

-you love playing with us. You'll stand at the top of the basement stairs and holler, "SETH!! Jump and jump! SETH!! Are coming?" That trampoline you got for Christmas has been put to good use.

We love you baby girl! 

In my make-up. 

For the thousandth time...