9 Years

9 years. 9 years ago we stood in front of 350 people and vowed to love each other for the rest of our lives. 9 years of getting to prove that to each other.

I have found that while not always easy, marriage is always, always good. I tell people this regularly, and last night I was thinking about why I believe this so strongly. What makes a marriage GOOD? In a world where marriages fall apart left and right, where marriage is belittled and complained about by husbands and wives, where the HARD part of marriage is emphasized over the GOOD part -- I wanted to understand WHY I am so adamant that our marriage is the best thing in my life.

9 years does NOT make me an expert, but it does give me some insight into what works - and what definitely doesn't. So today on our 9th anniversary, here are the four things that I believe have made our marriage work - and work well.

1. Selflessness. Justin Raber models selflessness in such a consistent and intentional way. He puts my needs before his on a daily basis. He empties the dishwasher while he has a dance party with the kids. When he comes home from work - before he ever makes it upstairs - he switches the laundry that I forgot in the washing machine. I have never learned how to make a pot of coffee because he has it brewed perfectly every single morning when I get up. He works a physically demanding job all day and comes home and plays with the kids and helps clean up the kitchen and reads bedtime stories and kisses noses and prays over our family and then heads down to his workshop to work for several more hours - but not before he asks me if I need anything and gives me a hug and tells me that I am a great mom and how proud he is of me - and now go relax for the evening. (not making this up, folks, he really is THAT great).
Is he perfect? Nope. Does he make mistakes? Yep. Does he love me well? Absolutely yes.
I try to look for ways to serve him, and also try to put his needs above my own - it has to go both ways. But he wins by a mile when it comes to modeling true selflessness.

2. Commitment. When we said our vows 9 years ago, we vowed not only to LOVE, but to COMMIT to each other no matter what. We have never doubted that commitment, even when the FEELING of love isn't obvious. Marriage comes in seasons and I am so thankful that I have realized that feelings don't determine commitment. Some seasons I am infatuated and head-over-heels in love with J Rabes. Some seasons though? We are teammates getting through the crazy that is our life. Sometimes we are roommates who barely see each other while running in and out between the busyness of life. A lot of the time we are best friends with so much laughter and fun and we simply enjoy each other's company. 31 year old Carrie and 31 year old Justin are very different that 22 year old Carrie and 22 year old Justin. We are different, but we are committed to US. To our differences and similarities and quirks and weirdness and our life together. We DECIDED to be committed and so we are. Simple as that. We've worked though some STUFF, but we have never questioned the lack of commitment to each other. And it makes our marriage good.

3. Kindness. Seems simple, right? But sometimes the person we are the most unkind to is our spouse. I am a work in progress, but I catch myself if I am being snippy, or speaking to Justin in a way that I wouldn't speak to other people. That snarky comment that sneaks into your brain that could 'win' you the argument but would crush your spouse? Don't say it. That snippy remark about a mistake that your spouse made? Don't verbalize it. Justin Raber has literally never been mean to me in our 13 years together. He has never said anything to me that is intentionally unkind. And I KNOW this isn't the norm in so many relationships, and I am SO thankful.

4. Christ. The thing that holds us together is our relationship with Jesus. He is the common thread that ties our family together and brings us back around to what's important. He is the cornerstone that we base our decisions around and has never let us down. I am so grateful for a spouse who values Christ above all else. I firmly believe that Jesus WANTS good marriages. He WANTS successful relationships. I believe that He will fill in the cracks of our best attempts with truckloads of his grace.

9 years, y'all. It seems like yesterday and it seems like a lifetime. Thankful for the GOOD that is marriage. Thankful for our family. Thankful for this life. Thankful for Justin. I can't wait to see where life takes us for all of our future anniversaries. Love you big time, J Rabes.

You're Grounded

"You're grounded."

Chances are you have heard that a time or two in your life. And if you were Carrie (Amstutz) Raber between the ages of 12-17 you heard that on an almost weekly basis. (sorry mom and dad). Even fifteen years later, the sound of those words bring back some pretty strong emotions - mostly negative. No one likes to be grounded. To be cut off from something that you enjoy. To have your life regulated by someone other than you.

But you know what? Being grounded as an adult is sometimes just as necessary as it was when I was 14. Oh some people will call it self discipline, or setting boundaries, or 'choosing to refrain' from certain activities - but when it comes down to it - you are essentially grounding yourself.

I am thankful for parents who took the time and effort and energy to ground me in my younger years. When they saw a behavior or attitude that they knew wasn't pointing me in a direction that I would want to end up in, they curbed it by grounding me. And even though I didn't catch on as quickly as some - which resulted in more 'groundings' than the average bear - I eventually understood the point.

A couple months ago I started feeling ugly. Now it wasn't the look-in-the-mirror-and-cringe type of ugly. Actually the type of ugly that has nothing to do with physical appearance. The type of ugly that makes you feel stuck. And annoyed by tiny things. And cringy about people in general. And irritable. And sick of the rut I was in. And when I let myself think about why, I could immediately pinpoint the ugliness to my beloved social media. So, in order to stay true to Classic Carrie, I immediately brushed off the thought because there was no way in. the. world. I was going to give that up. It was my outlet! My window into the outside world! My connection with friends!

But on November 12, I had finally had enough and I realized that if I wanted big change, I needed to make a big change. So I signed off of social media indefinitely. I grounded myself.

You guys. It was EMBARRASSINGLY HARD. I deleted the apps on my phone and for days I would absentmindedly muscle memory my way to my beloved instagram that was no longer there. I wondered who was posting what. And my nasty prideful self wondered if people missed me - and secretly hoped they did. The whole thing felt like an intense detox.

Bottom line?
I didn't want social media to become my life. And it had.
I didn't want posting pictures of my life to trump my actual life. And it had.
I didn't want to feel obligated to share about our family's Tuesday evening. And I did.
I didn't want to compare myself to other moms. And I did.
I didn't want to be excited to login to see how many people commented on a post. And I was.
I didn't want to NOT post a picture because I thought it wasn't a good angle. And I didn't.
I didn't want to think about a caption everytime I snapped a picture. And I was.

Much like my 16 year old self, it took me quite awhile to recognize that I was on a path that was pointed in a direction I didn't want to go. All those realizations I listed above? I didn't fully recognize them until I had stepped back. Until I had grounded myself from something I enjoyed. As an adult, it is up to me to recognize behaviors and attitudes that aren't aligning with where I want to end up. And it's up to me to do something about it.

So you may be wondering what the month away from the noise of social media has done for my ugliness.

• After only a few days, I realized the FREEDOM I felt. I didn't feel the need to know about other people's every waking moment. I didn't feel the need to snap the perfect picture. I simply lived life. 
• I read books (ACTUAL BOOKS - my first love!).
• I was creative. My mind opened up from the fog of endless scrolling and I was THINKING again. Dreaming and planning and DOING. 
• I spent time with my husband before falling asleep. 
• I spent time in the Word and truly rested in the presence of my Savior - distraction free. 
• I WROTE. I wrote and wrote and wrote some more without the desire of anyone reading what I wrote and it was FABULOUS.
• I celebrated with my family without needing approval from the world. Thanksgiving, my nephew's adoption finalization, getting our Christmas tree, Cohen's 4th birthday -- these were events that were PERFECT for insta-world -- and I honestly didn't feel like I missed out by not sharing. 

Here's the thing. I still love social media. I love the way that it connects people. I love that I can see into the outside world. I love that I can document my little corner of the world in a simple way. But the social media that I loved had become something ugly. I needed to ground myself in order to see that -- and in order to appreciate it for what it can be.

So after a month, will I log back on? 

The answer is yes. 

Yes with some buts. 

Yes, I will logon BUT not at the expense of things that I truly enjoy.

Yes, I will post pictures of my life BUT I will enjoy the life part more than the posting part. 

Yes, I will share when Anna Grace FINALLY decides to walk BUT I will not feel obligated to.

Yes, I will look at pictures of your life BUT I will know that it is a snapshot and be aware of the comparison trap. 

Yes, I will see who likes my pictures BUT I won't let that number determine my value. *typing that seems so extremely silly and glaringly obvious, but holy moly #truth

Yes, I will post the blurry picture with a bad angle BUT I won't care what other people think. 

Yes, I will occasionally come up with a clever caption, BUT I won't let it run my train of thought. 

Yes, I will probably need to ground myself again in the future BUT I will be more aware and not allow myself to fall into the trap of ugliness again. 

Let's let the beauty of this life (and social media) outshine the ugliness that seems to be a constant threat. And sometimes it might take saying 'you're grounded' to your adult self.

And now I give you some unfiltered truth bombs:

• I logged on three times to instagram and once to facebook in the past month. Once to see my sisters pictures of my fabulous nephew, twice to see how a very sick little girl I have been praying for was doing, and once to 'host' a direct sales party that I had previously committed to. I felt like I was cheating on someone!!!! I half loved 'catching up' with everyone /  half hated it. 
• And I know I sounded confident in my 'not needing to post celebrations on insta' rant, but I sometimes twitch about the fact that Cohen's 4th birthday won't be in my chatbooks. So there's that. 
• I am still not completely out of the ugliness rut. The social media break was HUGE and led me to realize that I am craving an overly simplified lifestyle - so watch out 2019!

AND in case you missed our photogenic family, I leave you with our most recent family photo: 

To My First Baby

5 years and 11 months ago they placed you in my arms and my life changed instantly. My heart felt love like I had never felt before — I couldn’t believe you were mine! 24 years old and I was a first time mom. I was equal parts ecstatic and terrified. I didn’t know how to be a mom. We figured it out together though, didn’t we? A lot of second guessing myself, a lot of tears, but so much love. 

 

 

A lot of life has happened in these almost 6 years. You became a big sister twice — and have handled it with grace and excellence. Your heart is kind and I am oh so proud that you are mine. You head to Kindergarten this week and my heart feels like it is ripping out of my chest. Just like that warm fall morning in 2012, I feel equally ecstatic and terrified. 

I have cried so many tears over the past few weeks as I picture you walking into a brand new building with your brand new backpack and sparkly lunchbox. Will you find your best friend on that first day? Will you remember how to open your lunch? Will you know where the bathroom is? Will you belly laugh like you do when you are at home? Oh how I will miss you while you are gone. 

But you will soar, baby girl. You will notice the shy student and quietly sit by them so that they feel comfortable. You will be enamored with your teacher and soak up each word she says. You will show love to everyone and kindness to the underdog. You are ready, sweet girl - it’s your momma who’s not quite ready to let go. 

You made me a momma, and for that I am so thankful. These days are filled with fun and laughter, but also chaos and crazy. But I see you, Miss Mckinley. Even amidst the crazy. Even on the days that I fall into bed and realize that I never got to read that book you asked me to read with you at 10am. 

I see the way that you make sure that Cohen is happy - even if that means that you give up your special toy that was rightfully yours.

I see the way that you gently comfort Anna Grace and redirect her when I am folding laundry in the next room. 

I see that you have your shoes on and help Cohen figure out the right feet while I am running around trying to get everyone out the door. 

I see you knowing the rules and following them without need for affirmation. 

I see you extending grace when your momma messes up.

I see you when you are deep into make believe and are absentmindedly singing praises to Jesus with your own words that are wise beyond your years. 

I see you, sweet girl. And I don’t acknowledge it nearly enough, but you are so very special and God has something huge for your life. I am honored to be your mom. I surely am the luckiest. 

As you head to Kindergarten and to the rest of your life, I only wish for one thing. That your love for Jesus would be the most important thing in your life. That he would guide each step you take. Everything else? Everything else is extra. Oh, we will celebrate the Honor Roll, or making the team, or performing on that big stage - but all those things pale in comparison to a life that is committed to Jesus. And at 5 years old, somehow I think you already know that. 

All my love, little one. Now go do big things. 💜 

To the Working Mommas

When we found out we were expecting our first little love six years ago, Justin and I talked about what we were going to do about my career. Realistically we knew that I would need to continue working in order to have some financial stability, but we also knew that a huge desire was for me to be with our kiddos as much as possible. For us, my commitment to working part time for the past six years has worked well. I get to continue in a career that I love and take pride in, while still having four out of seven days at home with my babies.

It has worked well. And I am thankful for the setup that we have with grandparents to watch our littles on the days that I head off to work.

It has worked well. But it is not easy.

It has worked well. But it leaves me feeling stretched in so many directions.

It has worked well. But I sometimes wish for more time to finish that project at work.

It has worked well. But I daily wish I could stay home and love on my babies.

I was recently talking to a good friend who works a full time job and has a baby and a toddler at home. She was telling me that she longed to be able to stay home with her babies while they are in this stage. In almost the same breath she teared up and confessed that she also feels guilty that sometimes it feels good to escape the diapers and crying and chaos for a few hours of quiet in her office. And I have never understood anything or related to anything more in that moment.

I think staying at home with your children is wonderful. I think a momma's love is like no other and those that have the opportunity to physically be with their babies on a daily basis are doing such important work.

I think that having a career while you have young children is wonderful. I think it shows your children how to be hardworking, driven, and passionate.

But for today, here's to the working mommas. I see you.

I see you waking your babies from sweet sleep in order to get them dressed and take their vitamins and force down their antibiotics and scarf down some breakfast and find the missing shoe in order to get out of the house in time.

I see you going on day four of unwashed momma hair and spraying dry shampoo like a boss, and adding some makeup so your coworkers don't notice that you haven't slept.

I see you cleaning up pukey beds and washing sore bodies through the night, and showing up to work and doing your job as well as you can.

I see you smiling politely when a coworker complains about the fact that the neighbor's dog woke them up twenty minutes early.

I see you chugging that coffee ALL DAY LONG.

I see you snapping at your husband because you are feeling the stress of both worlds and he is an easy target.

I see you dropping off a sniffly baby and wishing you could be the one to wipe her nose that day.

I see you peeling off a crying toddler and explaining that you need to leave for work.

I see you crying in the car on the way to the office because you didn't have enough time to calm his little heart.

I see you praying that they are o.k. and pleading that they know that you love them more than anything in the world.

I see you rushing out of work to pick them up and drive them home to make dinner and do homework and fill their love tanks and get them to bed on time.

I see you wishing there was more time in the day.

I see you cleaning up the house after the babies are sleeping.

I see you trying to prioritize sending those last emails, or watching your show, or spending time with your husband, or going to bed.

I see you not washing your hair again.

I see you feeling guilty when you long for some 'me time' after you have already been away from your babies all week.

I see you feeling guilty when your sweet babes frustrate you and you want to pull your hair out -- because isn't this what you are longing for?

I see you wishing it was different.

I see you thankful that it's not.

I see you working HARD.

I see you loving those babies with all of your heart.

I see you doing what is best for your precious family.

I see you.

Three Weeks In

Our Anna Grace is three weeks old and we are absolutely loving life with her in it! We were so excited to meet the fifth member of the family, and she was definitely worth the wait. We have been soaking up all of her sweetness over the past 18 days - but time is just WON'T SLOW DOWN, and I don't want to forget all of her little details - including the story of how she entered the world. So here is the story of Miss Anna Grace.

On Thursday, October 12 I woke up at 2:00a.m. with a sharp contraction. Being five days past my due date, I was irrationally excited that this might be the real thing, and willed my body to keep contracting. The contractions kept coming, about twenty minutes apart and strong enough to keep me awake, but no matter what I did they wouldn't speed up.

*Now I must interrupt this story to remind you that I was FIVE DAYS past my due date after what had been a very long and painful and exhausting nine months, so I was OBVIOUSLY very rational at this point.*

I woke Justin up around 5:00a.m. to tell him that I was contracting every twenty minutes, but not to get his hopes up because I was never going to actually go into labor and have this baby and that the contractions were going to stop soon and that I would be pregnant forever (see the rationality and realism oozing from my mouth?!). We decided that he should probably just go to work, and that I would keep him posted.

My mom came over around 8:00a.m. to hang out with me and the kids, and my contractions stayed about twenty minutes apart until noon. Around noon they started coming every ten to twelve minutes, which gave me the motivation to walk around my neighborhood IN THE RAIN. I made a twenty minute loop down our hill, up another hill, back down the hill, and back up to our house. Let me tell you, a forty-plus week pregnant woman, walking in the rain, up and down hills, pausing with my hands on my knees to get through contractions, gets A LOT OF LOOKS. Ha!

By 3:00p.m., my contractions were consistently 7 minutes apart and had become much stronger. I was still not quite in my right mind, because I was still convinced that this wasn't real labor and that I wouldn't be needing to go to the hospital any time soon. My mom convinced me to at least call Justin and tell him that he might need to think about coming home. From 3:00-5:00p.m. my contractions increased in intensity and were about 6 minutes apart. Justin had just gotten home and when I couldn't stand the pain anymore, Justin convinced me that we should head to the hospital.

We pulled into the hospital parking lot around 5:30p.m. and got through another contraction in the van before heading in. As we were walking into the hospital, I half cried, half yelled to Justin that this HAD TO be the real thing, and what if they send me home and if they do I am going to have an actual MENTAL BREAKDOWN (again, notice the stability of the pregnant woman). Also, Justin agreed that they HAD TO KEEP ME FOR ALL OF OUR HEALTH AND SAFETY.

The nurses took me to a room and started the admission process (PRAISE THE LORD). I was 4 cm dilated, which was somewhat discouraging, BUT I was admitted, and life was GOOD. Other than the excruciating pain, I was on cloud nine and giddy with excitement that our baby girl was coming! They started the process of getting my epidural set up, and by 7:15p.m. my excitement level increased by approximately ONE BILLION percent because my baby was still coming, and I was PAIN FREE. Can I just take a moment to mention the fact that epidurals are the most wonderful thing that has ever been created?! I mean, intense pain IMMEDIATELY alleviated. Bottom line: I LOVE DRUGS.

When Justin came back in the room, he found a whole new woman. His first comment to me was, "I haven't seen you smile like that in nine months. I think I have my wife back!" Seriously, once my epidural took affect, I realized that I hadn't felt that comfortable in MONTHS. I had no pain, only pressure, and I could actually relax. Again, DRUGS.

At that point, I told Justin to pull out the list of names that we had brought along, because we should probably decide what we were naming our baby. We had a list of six names that we liked, but couldn't decide on who our girl would be. We narrowed it down to two names that we both loved, and didn't have a preference between the two. Enter our FABULOUS nurse. After three babies, I have realized that your labor and delivery nurses either make or break your experience. We lucked out BIG TIME, because our nurse was fantastic. She was attentive, reassuring, capable, and made our experience wonderful. ANYWAY, our nurse came in as we were giggling over our name dilemma, and so I suggested that we have our nurse choose the name! I *think* she may have thought we were a bit crazy, but she loved Anna Grace, and so we finally knew that Anna Grace was almost here. *Side note, we are planning on calling her 'Anna Grace'*

Our nurse checked me around 10:00p.m. and said that I was over 9 cm dilated, and that it was almost go time! The labor and delivery unit was super busy that evening - with seven women in active labor. My doctor was the one on call, and was running back and forth between rooms to see who would deliver first. The woman next door had her baby within five minutes of getting to her room, and then we were next! Our doctor came to our door, but was called away to do an emergency c-section, but was back by 10:30p.m. and we were ready to push!

The entire time we were at the hospital, Anna Grace's heart rate kept dropping, but would climb back up quickly enough to not be too much of a concern. I pushed several times, with no progress, and my doctor looked at me and said that baby girl's heat rate was dropping significantly and not recovering well, and the best option to get her out quickly enough was to use suction. The next minutes were a whirlwind of more nurses coming into the room as well as a pediatric doctor as I continued to push and the doctor used the vacuum to help coax her out. Those minutes were intense and scary. I looked at Justin with fearful eyes, and he assured me that it was going to be o.k. and that I was doing great.

She was finally born at 10:42p.m., completely blue and almost gray. The doctor cut the cord quickly and passed her off to the pediatrician and we finally heard the most beautiful sound of her tiny cry. The tears were flowing and even from across the room I realized that she was absolutely perfect and that she looked so much like her siblings and that my heart had just grown even more than I thought was possible.

After the doctors gave her the all clear, I finally got to snuggle my precious girl. She was tiny and oh so perfect. Both of my other babies were over 8 pounds, and this one was obviously smaller - Justin guessed 7 pounds, but she weighed in at a hefty 6 pounds 2 ounces and was 18.5 inches long.  Justin and I spent the next two hours snuggling our baby and marveling at her tiny features. She had long fingernails (seriously needed trimmed as soon as she was born), a small head (my other babies had large noggins), and was practically perfect in every way.

After she was born, my doctor said that it was a good thing that she was as small as she was, or she probably wouldn't have been able to be born naturally. She (unknown to us) was flipped face up, which makes a vaginal delivery difficult and usually results in an emergency c-section. She was just the perfect size, and I am so thankful. Her heart rate issues during birth made it necessary that she was born quickly, and because she was tiny - even five days overdue - she came just in time.

Because she was so tiny, her sugar levels had to be monitored for the first 24 hours - and only dipped too low once - but her poor heel had to be pricked so many times. We ended up staying an extra night because her bilirubin level was elevated (more heel pokes!), so she spent twelve hours under the lights until they gave us the all clear to head home!

God's timing is always perfect. I know this, but I want things on my own terms in my own timing. I was BEYOND impatient to have this little girl earthside. At 36 weeks, my fluid levels were low and she was measuring small, so the possibility of delivering early was very real. In hindsight, I am so thankful that my fluid level stayed high enough, because she would have been even smaller than they projected. 6 pounds 2 ounces was the perfect size. My body didn't go into labor until the exact right time - big enough to thrive, small enough to be born quickly enough in labor. I realize that this was God orchestrating every detail perfectly. And I am thankful. 

These three weeks have been flying by. She is such a chill baby who fits into our family perfectly. It feels so normal to add her to our family - and every time I look at her, or Mckinley, or Cohen, or Justin, I am overwhelmed with so much gratefulness.

Anna Grace, we love you more than you will ever know. These three weeks have been the best three weeks of our lives. Our family is complete and this momma is verging on normal. Life is good and we are thankful.

Desiring Normal

Do you ever feel like you are functioning in a way that is as far away from normal as you can possibly get? That you are so far removed from normal that you don't even fully know what normal is or ever was? When the days are a blur and normal seems like a distant memory and completely out of reach? At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, this 'not-normal' has been my life for the past eight months.

Back in February when we officially found out that we were expecting baby number three, I had exactly 24 hours to revel in the excitement of new life and remain hopeful that I wouldn't be as sick as the first two rounds. That hope was short lived when I woke up the next morning with intense nausea and vomiting - a familiar but unwelcome friend that reared its ugly head at six weeks on the dot. The next three months were hard. Constant sickness, hospital stays, doctor's appointments, meds, extreme weight loss, and general misery. Trying to direct a preschool, be a wife and mother, and keep up with everything I was involved in proved to be impossible to juggle. I couldn't form a full thought -- let alone an intelligent one. I struggled with knowing my worth. I struggled with letting so many people down. I struggled with feeling so abnormal.

Fortunately, the summer months gave me some relief from constant sickness. I have had to adjust my diet significantly, gluten and dairy have me keeling over in pain. I have dealt with Pelvic Girdle Pain (isn't that a lovely name?!) which causes quite the pain when walking, sitting, laying, standing -- oh wait - mostly every position there is. This last month of pregnancy there has been a lot of pain and stomach issues, exhaustion from lack of sleep, extra appointments to make sure baby girl is growing, and now a lot of swelling as we await this little one's arrival. Let me be clear - I generally respond with 'We're doing good! Excited for baby to get here!' when asked how I am doing. I truly mean it. I am grateful for this life. I am thankful for a healthy baby girl and that I get the chance to bring her into the world.

I have become quite the expert at faking normal to everyone but those that I am closest to. I am convinced that Justin is a saint and has earned many, MANY crowns for his patience through our three pregnancies. Mckinley told me the other night that she is excited to meet baby sister so that she can hold her, and that she is excited for the baby to 'not be in mommy's tummy anymore so that you can feel better', and my heart broke into a thousand little pieces. I long for normal for myself, but I long for normal for my family even more.

While I am forever grateful for pregnancy and motherhood, I long for normal. The other night I was crying in bed next to Justin and was wailing very intelligent sentences like "I am never going to have this baby! I am going to be pregnant forever! I JUST WANT TO FEEL NORMAL AGAIN!" And then I got to thinking - what is normal? What am I even longing for? What am I striving to get 'back to'? Normal is an extremely relative concept, but once I thought about it a little more, I realized that I am longing for MY NORMAL, and this is WHAT I WANT:

-Rolling over in bed in one swift motion with no groaning or wincing.
-Making plans and being able to follow through with them.
-Sleeping.
-Not snapping at the ones I love the most.
-Playing with my kids without pain.
-Eating salsa.
-Remembering things.
-Going on walks.
-Thinking clearly.
-Fitting into my clothes.
-Feeling competent.
-Laughing more than crying.
-Controlling my emotions.
-Tying my shoes.
-Feeling good.
-Drinking a glass of milk.
-Hosting people in our home.
-Loving my husband well.
-Loving my kids well.
-Loving myself well.

Normal. It isn't the same for everyone, but for me it is what I want more than anything right now. Nothing overly crazy. Nothing extreme. Just normal. This sweet babe will be here before we know it. Each day that we wait seems excruciatingly long, but she WILL come, and I can't wait to snuggle her freshness and begin the return to normal.

48 Hours, A Tiny Baby, and a BIG God

It's amazing what can happen in just 48 hours, isn't it?

First of all, thank you, thank you, thank you for surrounding our family with prayers and encouragement for the past few days. The notes of support, genuine concern, and heartfelt prayers were definitely felt and appreciated.

So here's the story of the past 48 hours.

Two days ago at our checkup for baby girl, my doctor was concerned with my lack of weight gain as well as the size of my baby bump. Through the first three months of this pregnancy, I lost close to thirty pounds from extreme morning (ha) sickness. I have gained about fifteen of those pounds back, but have been at a steady weight for the past couple months. Because of this stall in weight gain, my doctor ordered a growth ultrasound to check the size of the baby as well as a check of  my of amniotic fluid. The growth ultrasound showed that baby girl was measuring very small for her gestational age. Overall, she was measuring in the 10th percentile, which was a much lower percentile than her last ultrasound a few months ago. A specific concern was the size of her stomach, measuring only in the 2nd percentile -- which is obviously very small and not consistent with the rest of her body size. Her estimated weight currently was under five pounds. My amniotic fluid was measuring very low - still technically in the 'normal' range, but as low as it can get to be considered normal. 

After the growth ultrasound on Tuesday, my doctor referred me to a high risk doctor at Akron Children's Hospital. She wanted another ultrasound done, with a few other tests to determine if the baby was getting adequate blood flow and whether or not baby girl should be born now to monitor her outside of the womb. 

Being told that there could be complications in the final few weeks of pregnancy was overwhelming and scary. Not knowing what was going on with our baby girl made us feel out of control and wanting answers. I love feeling her move and kick, but I would feel so much more comfortable if she was here an in our arms and I KNEW she was ok. 

Waiting 48 hours for our appointment seemed like a lifetime. I cried and prayed and worried and cried some more. I didn't sleep. I pictured every possible outcome. I cried some more. I received texts and emails and messages and phone calls from people who love our family so well. I came home to gorgeous flowers on our porch and cried some more.

The song 'Jesus Loves Me' played over and over in my head. This simple song that spoke so close to my heart.

Jesus Love Me, this I know. 

For the Bible tells me so. 

Little ones to him belong. 

They are weak, but he is strong. 

Yes, Jesus loves me! 

Yes, Jesus loves me! 

Yes, Jesus loves me!

The Bible tells me so. 

The amount of love that I have for my babies isn't measurable. Any mom knows this love. Loving your children is the strongest emotion that I think a person can experience. Love so big that I can't even put it into words. It almost hurts how much I love my kids. Not being in control of what happens to them almost takes my breath away. But then I think about the fact that even though the love I have for my babies is HUGE, the love that Jesus has for them is even bigger. Unfathomable. So I reminded myself of this fact over and over and over the past two days. And tried to trust and let go of the control that I didn't even have in the first place. 

So this morning we headed to Akron for our appointment. I was nervous, but I was more anxious about finding out some answers. Our ultrasound was first, and seeing our sweet baby was so reassuring. Our ultrasound technician was wonderful, and was great at letting us know what she was seeing as she performed the ultrasound. She started by reviewing our files from our previous ultrasound noting that the baby was measuring so small, and mentioning the concern about her stomach size and my amniotic fluid. When she started taking her measurements, she kept shaking her head in confusion. 

PEOPLE. Our baby WAS tiny, but our God is BIG. 

Baby girl is still definitely on the small side, but she GREW. In 48 hours. And not just a little bit, she is considered small, but her size is now of NO CONCERN. Her overall size is measuring in the 23rd percentile. Our ultrasound technician measured her stomach probably 25 times, and kept saying, "I don't get it - her stomach is measuring completely normal?!" We are talking 2nd percentile on Tuesday, to 19th percentile on Thursday.

I know that God is beefing this girl up. I know that God made her grow that significantly in 48 hours. I know that God answered our prayers. 

And yet I was surprised. Shocked. Why am I always surprised when God does exactly what I ask for? When he actually goes above and beyond what our prayers are pleading for?

So for now, baby girl is growing inside, and we are waiting for her to make her debut. My fluid level is still very low, so they will continue to monitor the amount of fluid which may mean I will need to be induced sooner than later. Baby girl is in position to start labor, and I am actually having pretty decent contractions on and off today, nothing overly consistent, but enough to know that she may be here before we know it.

Thank you for praying and believing with us. God is so good, isn't he? I know that it is easy to say that God is good when prayers are answered the way that we want them to be. The fact is that He would still be good if we had to update you with 'bad' news. But today we are rejoicing in thankfulness that our baby is growing and strong. 

...they are weak, but HE IS STRONG.