Fun Fitness at Home

I almost posted this on my Facebook page, but I realized I had a lot to say for a quick post - so I thought I'd just do a quick blog post instead. :)

Since having Jeremiah, I have been looking for a way to exercise regularly that would fit into my sporadic schedule.  I began praying about what I should do a while ago, and shortly after I discovered this website: http://fit2b.us/.

"Fit 2 be" is an at-home exercise subscription website, for just $10/month.  Since I am busy w/ 3 littles including an infant, I don't have time to get to the gym.  I was so excited to find Fit 2 Be, as this is not only a monetarily economical website, but it's economical and efficient w/ my time as well.  Many of the workout videos are less than 20 minutes long, and many of those are just 10-15 minutes.  Yes - I'm busy, but who can't find 15 minutes in a day to get moving?  There are no excuses!

Also, the owner is a believer, so there is no need to censor who is in the room when you want to exercise, if that is a concern for you.  It's also nice just to feel like a normal person when I exercise!

Side note: The site also has a whole separate section of "tummy safe" and healing workouts for those who may have a diastasis recti (a separation of the abdominal walls) - which you may likely have if you've ever been pregnant or had a c-section.  Did you know it's estimated that up to 90% of pregnant women have dealt w/ a diastasis at some point?  I recently learned you can even have one if you have a flat tummy!  Check out the website for more information on diastasis recti, including a how-to video to check if you have one. 

Lastly, there is even a section of kids workout videos.  I have to be honest - when I first looked into them I was a little disappointed, because they seemed slightly disorganized.  You know what though?  My kiddos weren't - they were just as excited as I am to get up and get moving! That's a win/win if you ask me.

By the way, no one is paying me to say this.  I am just enjoying it so much that I thought others might too! :)

Part 4

Throughout my labor, I submitted to another situation I was uncomfortable with, but was made to feel (bullied? I'm not sure.) it was 'necessary': very, very painful internal exams.  At one point, one of the doctors checked me and said that Jeremiah's  arm was up over his head.  There went that popular little phrase again: "You might need a c-section.  We can't do this, because the baby would lose his arm during delivery." Yikes.  So, we called our prayer chain coordinator to pray, we prayed, and I spoke to Jeremiah.  I told him, "Jeremiah, please move your arm down honey.  Take it off of your head so Mama doesn't get hurt sweetheart."  Guess what?! Praise God!  Jeremiah listened to me and moved his hand onto his forehead.  The Dr. who came in to give his second opinion said, "I can do this (mimicking J's hand).  I can't do this (mimicking his arm), but this (hand again) I can do."  Woohoo!!! God was continuing to answer our desperate prayers favorably.

Remember - that infamous, "blessed" epidural that wasn't working?  Add to that roughly 4-6 internal exams throughout 12-ish hours of labor.  Each time I just got more and more stressed out. The nurses kept saying they 'had to make sure' Jeremiah was in a favorable position for vaginal delivery.  They also needed to see if he was moving down, because up to that point he'd been pretty stationary for quite some time.  Again, if he didn't move down, I would wind up with (here we go again, you guessed it...) a c-section.

At one point, I finally just got fed up.  Having taken Bradley classes, I knew that most of the time internal exams do little good and could actually be dangerous - and I knew my rights.  I could reject any procedure I was uncomfortable with for any reason.  It finally hit me just how unnecessary those internal exams can be (though I admit, it's possible God worked through them to save Jeremiah's arm), and I was done.

The next time the nurse came to check me, I told her absolutely no more internal exams.  At this point, my nurse even complained to me that she couldn't help it her hands were so small so she had to push harder, and therefore it was more painful.  Nope, not kidding.  It was my fault - I was the pregnant woman, and she was just doing her job (!).  I can't exactly remember the conversation, but that was the gist of it.  Yet, they wanted my blood pressure to stay low???  Despite my attempts to reason with her, she simply would not back down.

Does anyone else see something wrong here? Yet the nurse kept pushing this 'necessary evil' down my throat.  I finally suggested a compromise.  If she wanted to check me yet again, they would have to re-do the epidural and make sure it was actually working this time, because I just couldn't take the pain one more time.  If they could make that happen, then fine - go ahead and check just one last time.

This is where it gets good.

It 'just so happened' that the anesthesiologist was right outside my room at this point.  She came in, kicked out Bryan and Malory (only a nurse, the patient, and the anesthesiologist were allowed in the room, for "sanitary" purposes, ha ha ha, don't get me started...), had me sit up, and got to work doing a not so great job of re-doing that epidural.

This is the good part.  You see, what I needed to get Jeremiah to move down was to be able to move.  Laboring on my side in the bed all day, that just wasn't happening.  However, when I sat up, the nurse couldn't keep the monitor on the baby, because he was finally able to get on the move, and move he did!
Up to this point, he had been stuck on my right side, and I was actually feeling the contractions very strongly in my right upper thigh.

I told the nurse that he was coming, but the anesthesiologist was still doing the epidural.  Had I been in my right mind, I'd have told her to back off, but all I could think was, "Help me Jesus, this hurts!" and "My mouth is SO dry." (Well, they hardly let me drink anything during labor, go figure...).  Then I started saying over and over, "Here he comes."

Finally after what seemed like ages but was probably just a couple of minutes, the nurse believed me.  It probably helped that I told her, "I have to push.  I have to push NOW."  To which she responded that she had to call the Dr. and the NICU.  "Well then," I said, "You better get your people in here now because this baby is coming."

The rest is a blur, but basically, I sat up in a 'classic' labor position and Jeremiah came flying out on his own all at once. I didn't even push voluntarily, which I'm told is pretty typical of small babies.

All of a sudden, I realized Bryan had just missed the birth of his son (!) : (. For a full 5 minutes, I kept telling people, "My husband is still out in the hall.  Someone please go get him."  Apparently there was such a flurry at this unexpected moment that even though everyone heard me, no one was assigned the job.  They just kept saying, "Someone go and get her husband," but no one was actually doing it, as they were all busy.  When someone finally did tell Bryan, he later reported that he didn't even believe it.  Just 10 minutes before it had seemed I could be hours away from delivery, and yet - this news.  He had to see it to believe it.

Jeremiah came out strong and kicking.  He was 3 pounds 14 ounces, and 18 inches long.  He was doing so well that he got a 9 on his APGAR score, which surprised everyone for this premature baby.  Sadly, despite his well being, I was unable to hold him after delivery.  I got about about 30 seconds to look at him, and then he was whisked away to the NICU.

Why, you ask, would they refuse to let me hold him?  Well, another layer to this whole story is that I had contracted the flu just 2 days after getting to the hospital. Yep - on top of all this I had the flu too.  I will say though, that w/ the Tamiflu they gave me, the worst part was still the magnesium, which pretty much made me feel like the flu on steroids.
 I was hospitalized for 3 days after Jeremiah's birth and didn't get to see him till Christmas Eve.  Those first 4 days were admittedly pretty awful. The best part is though, at least I got to be the first to hold him that day.

In the end, he spent 2 weeks in the NICU and passed all his markers for leaving the hospital with flying colors, and apparently in record time for a boy (so we've been told).  We've been home for 7 weeks now and I really couldn't imagine things going any better, despite our rocky beginnings.

"And that's, the rest of the story," as Paul Harvey used to say.

Part 3

Side note before I continue: My goal is to just get this out.  Apologies for the minimal editing I'm doing here.  If I took time to do very much of that, this would never get written.

I was moved to labor and delivery on Wednesday morning, December 18th.  It was at this time that the doctors on the high risk floor decided collectively that the process of attempting an induction should begin.

Since I was nowhere near ready physically to give birth, I needed medication to soften and efface my cervix.  I was given a fairly mild drug called cervadil, inserted in the cervix, to do the job.  We were told that it each dose takes 12 hours to do it's full amount of work, and that it could take up to 3 doses if it was going to work at all.  If not, we'd have a cesarean.  So, we were prayerfully in line for the long haul.  I was honestly very thankful to have the time to get used to being induced - to rest physically, and prepare mentally and emotionally for the impending labor.  It wound up taking us 2 doses of cervadil - just about 24 hours - to do the job.  After that, I would be put on a very low and slow uptake of pitocin (labor inducing medication).

Before they began induction, I was given an epidural.  This was something I had wanted to avoid initially, but preeclampsia is one of those rare cases in which an epidural is actually preferred for medical reasons.  A side effect of the epidural is lowering blood pressure, and this was very favorable for my situation.  If at any point during labor my blood pressure had risen severely, it would have been an immediate, 'Let's knock her out and get this baby out NOW' kind of situation.  Needless to say we agreed to the epidural.

 I was told it would be helpful to have my water broken, in order to potentially get the process going.  Looking back, had I been in my right mind (remember the magnesium was taking it's toll), I would have rejected this procedure, at least at first.  However, for whatever reason I wasn't thinking clearly, and chose to allow it. I can't remember if I'd been on pit. yet or if my water was broken first.  Anyway, it was very painful and the most awful part of the whole process for many reasons.  Yes - it was even more painful than labor, and this is not because Jeremiah was small (smaller babies actually hurt quite lot, contrary to popular belief).  I won't go into any more detail than that here because it's too personal to share on my blog.  Suffice it to say, that part sucked and I don't wish it on anyone. 'Nough said.

(If you consider yourself a friend and want to know more detail on the aforementioned, I'm okay with sharing in person, but I'm not going to write about it, at least not today.)

Wait a second.  I thought you had an epidural, you ask.  I did, but the pain relieving part had absolutely no effect after the first hour, and since it took a while to get the Dr. in the room to perform the above procedure,  it wasn't working at all then, not to mention labor itself.

Anyway, so the water was broken and pitocin started at 1 unit per hour, which is the lowest dose possible, as well as safe, for inducing moms with preeclampsia.  You see, while the epidural helps, pitocin is actually bad for the mom's blood pressure (if I remember correctly), so the lowest dose possible to cause labor and delivery is best.

I don't really remember the time of day, but labor was officially induced sometime in the later afternoon on that Thursday.  It took several hours, and they tried to shut it off once to see if my contractions would continue.  Unfortunately, turning off the pit. meant labor failed to progress, so we had to start it up again beginning with the 1 unit/hour to get a good progression of contractions.  Late in the evening of that day, I finally, truly began to progress in labor.

Additionally, I had to labor in the bed for the entire labor.  With preeclampsia, even just getting up to go to the bathroom can raise one's blood pressure, and we couldn't take that risk.  So much for those Bradley classes and all we had learned on positioning to ease labor.  The good part though?  We had our relaxation technique down pat.  Even though I was in a lot of pain as labor progressed, I was truly able to manage it well and it didn't seem that bad, except for the very end - but I'm getting ahead of myself here.

To be continued...

How it All Went Down, Part 2

When we got to the hospital, who did I see in my room first thing, but Malory - my doula?! I don't know if anyone documented it, but I am willing to bet my b.p. went down 10 points just from seeing a familiar face among the sea of unknowns surrounding me at the moment.  Many of my fears subsided.  I knew that from that point whatever happened, even if my husband didn't make it on time, at least I had some personal support. Malory is not just my doula, but my friend as well.  I chose her to support me in pregnancy and delivery because she is one of the most calm people I have ever met - and well, if you know me - 'calm' is just not a normal part of my vocabulary in times of stress.  I feel so loved by God at this gracious provision.  In addition, Bryan walked in the door within 5 minutes of my arrival.  He swears he didn't speed to get there, but he definitely got there quickly!  I couldn't have been any more relieved in that moment.

It didn't take long to find myself signing (or being encouraged to sign...) releases, admission papers, and who knows what.  All while giving medical history, getting a new IV in, and being wheeled down to another floor in order for this hospital to get their own visual (ultrasound) of the situation. At one point I calmly asked the nurse to hold off temporarily on the waivers till my husband could join me in the decision making process.  With an annoyed look on her face, she agreed.  We later found out she wrote up a report stating that I had refused to sign any papers (WTH?!)  Yep, you read that right.

This is where it doesn't take long to get fuzzy again.  One thing I will probably never forget, though:

Jeremiah had been breech for several weeks.  I was starting to get nervous as the weeks ticked by.  In fact, he had been breech when I left the hospital in my home town. Get ready for a major God thing. : )  However, when the new hospital took their ultrasound, he was no longer breech, but head down.  Now I can tell him, it took a helicopter ride to turn him around.  Praise Jesus! We took this as a sign that we just might avoid that nasty surgery after all.

We met with the Dr. on staff that day and he agreed with us - he was hopeful and optimistic for a vaginal delivery.  Aside from that, he looked at all my numbers and estimated a week before attempting an induction. One thing was for sure, we would not be leaving this hospital without somehow delivering a baby prematurely.  We were thankful to have this time, because I was able to receive steroids to develop the baby's lungs, which would prove to give him a large step forward in those early days of premature life outside the womb.

Since no one was sure what would happen, I hung out in an L&D room on the high risk floor for 2 days.  At some point before leaving our home town, I had already been started on magnesium sulfate.  For me, it took a few days for all the side effects to set in, but in the end of the 2 weeks I was on it (before, during, and after delivery), I displayed all of them: nausea, extreme exhaustion, lack of appetite, difficulty opening my eyes, severe sensitivity to light, and a heavy metallic taste in my mouth.

(Magnesium sulfate is an anti-seizure medication.  Patients with preeclampsia have a high risk of seizures that may cause mother and baby lasting damage or even death).

The most frustrating part about all of this?  Until I was put on the magnesium, I felt 100% fine.  The only sign I had ever had before my diagnosis was some swelling that wouldn't go down, and this does not necessarily mean something as bad as preeclampsia.

I don't really remember much else, other than sleeping a lot, being told to drink a lot of water, and struggling to maintain hydration.  Other than that, Jeremiah and I were monitored (therefore necessarily harassed by nurses) 24 hours a day.  They took labs, checked my b.p. every two hours, and had me on fetal and heart monitors up till the moment he was born.

I must have somewhat stabilized there in labor and delivery, because I was moved to the ante-partum wing of the floor.  This basically means that you are going to deliver at some point, but they aren't sure when or how.  Again, the phrase 'possible' or 'emergency c-section' never - ever - left the table - even throughout my labor.

Honestly, that was one of the most difficult and mentally challenging parts of the whole situation at times - the complete unknown and necessity to trust God with all of it 100%.  Somehow though, I really was miraculously able to do just that in lots of key moments.  There were a couple of times when the baby's monitor mistakenly picked up my heart beat instead (much lower than his should have been), and the doctors and nurses completely flipped out.  However, I was oddly at complete peace in the midst of those times.  I remember telling my nurse once, "You are not in control of this, and neither are we.  Whatever happens, our lives are in God's hands, so just do whatever you need to do, but settle down.  It's all going to be okay." If you know me well, you know that kind of response could only have been the peace that passes understanding.

Well, at a certain point, my blood pressure began to steadily and slowly increase once again.  I had already been given the pre-determined safest amount of blood pressure medication, and there was nothing left to do but try to get me to deliver the baby.  At that point I was moved back to labor and delivery.

To be continued...

How it All Went Down, Part 1

Since we all know I'm not the most abbreviated writer, I'm going to do this in (at least) 2 posts.  Many of you have told me you'd like to hear all that happened surrounding my hospitalization and Jeremiah's birth, so I figured it might make sense to just document it here.. Additionally, this was all so significant that I don't want to forget it.

On Monday, December 10th, I went to my regular checkup at 31 weeks.  I had just gone to 2 week check ups (thank God! or I might not be here today, seriously).  For the first time in this pregnancy, my blood pressure was elevated and protein was detected in my urine.  It was assumed that I had preeclampsia, but my midwife and Dr. needed to be sure.  I was sent home w/ a lovely little 24 hour urine collection jug (yes, that works exactly as it sounds, ick), put on modified bed rest, and told that I'd probably just hang out on there for several weeks and then deliver a bit early, maybe.  However, something told me otherwise.  I tried to choke back my tears as I gathered the big kids and we went home.

Shortly thereafter, I developed a serious migraine.  Knowing that this could be a sign of preeclampsia, I called my midwife but she wasn't concerned just yet. I took some Tylenol, attempted a nap, and called my chiropractor for an appointment later that afternoon.  Unfortunately, after throwing up twice that day, plus the chiro adjustment, I was not getting better, but in fact worse.  I called the provider on call and was instructed to head into either the ER or prompt care.  Unfortunately (or fortunately?), prompt care was closed shortly before we got there, so we headed in to the ER (my intuition from earlier in the day confirmed I wondered?).

This part was frustrating.  At this hospital, when a pregnant woman goes into the ER, unless she has an actual, right-now-we-need-to-save-her-life emergency, the staff is *supposed* to send her up to labor and delivery and let them take care of her.  However, the ER Dr. insisted on getting paid  doing his own assessment which took a few hours of waiting and tests (grrr).  It wasn't until he agreed w/ my midwife's assessment from earlier in the day that he agreed to call my Dr.  Sigh.  So finally, up to L&D I went to be observed for the evening, as directed by my Dr.

I spent that evening in the hospital and was sent home on very strict bed rest - the kind where you can only get up to the bathroom.  I was instructed to get into my midwife/Dr.'s office for a follow up that day or the next.    Based on the urine test result, when I got to the office later that day, I was told to go home, figure out stuff for the kiddos, pack a bag, and head straight in to the hospital here in town.  I'd probably just hang out, stabilize, and go home in a few days.

Once we got to the hospital, lots of tests and strict bed rest resumed.  Unfortunately, I did not stabilize as everyone had hoped and instead my condition worsened after a couple of days.  By Friday afternoon, we were being told that our care was being transferred to a hospital an hour away, since our local hospitals don't have preemie care, 'just in case.' I would need to be on 24 hour monitoring for our now high risk case.

This next part is kind of funny.  I got a phone call in the room, and the woman on the line identified herself as one of the nurses w/ the hospital.  She made sure that I'd been informed of my pending transfer and then asked, "All we have available today is the helicopter.  Is that okay for you?"  Um - do I have a choice?

It wasn't long before a flurry of events began to take place.  Honestly, it's all a bit fuzzy in my brain because it happened so fast.  What I do remember is that (another THANK GOD!) a friend from church was visiting when we received the news.  She prayed with and for me and really helped me stay calm in the midst of the storm until my husband was able to arrive from work.

Over the course of several minutes, all I remember is lots of nurses flocking in to get me ready and my blood pressure sky rocketing again. (I wonder why?)  Nurses flocking, meds administered, IV inserted, strapping me to the helicopter cot, etc.  One random thing I remember is my flight nurse trying to keep me calm and get me laughing.  I just kept thinking, "Thanks lady, but I am just not w/ you right now."  Poor woman, she tried.

I also began to get very terrified because I wasn't sure what in the world was going to happen to me once I was transferred.  The phrase 'possible c-section' had become a regular part of everyone's vocabulary by that point.  Needless to say, I was more than a bit scared but kept trying to remind myself Who was in control of all of this.

The other big thought I had was not wanting to be alone once I got there, although my husband wasn't able to accompany me in the helicopter.  Here is my shameless plug for my doula.  (You've been warned.)

I was SO very thankful at this point that we had hired Malory to be our doula.  Seriously - BEYOND thankful.  I made a point of telling Bryan to call her and keep calling till she picked up (as she might not recognize his number).  My ride would be about 20 minutes, we live 45-ish minutes away from the hospital I was being transferred to, and Malory lives smack dab in the middle.  I figured if we could just get a hold of her, she'd be there if she could at all possibly drop everything and get there.

Thankfully, he helicopter ride wasn't bad.  I just kept trying to focus on getting there.  One thought that kept me sane the whole time was thinking, "I may not be enjoying this, but I sure have a good story for my big kids (3 and 4 years old) when we talk on the phone later."  I figured if I wasn't really enjoying the ride, I could at least use it to bring a little joy to my kiddos (whom I hadn't seen in 4 days) later on.  Needless to say I was right.  They were thrilled at the thought of their mama's adventure, even if I wasn't.

To Be Continued...

Vindicated, Relieved, Hopeful

Four people  have mentioned the same book to me in the last 2 months.  All of them listened to the same radio program about strong willed children several weeks back - an episode that I missed but a program I often enjoy.  The first time or 2, I responded - yeah, okay I'll check it out - because honestly, most of the time people tell me about a discipline book or method I just get annoyed.  Most often, common strategies just don't work (or very well, or for very long) with my strong willed child.  However, when I was on the phone catching up w/ a good friend the other day, she became that 4th person.  It finally hit me that God is trying to point something out.  Whenever I hear something multiple times, I know God is telling me something.  So later that day I found the book on Amazon and ordered it.  It came today and I eagerly/reluctantly cracked it open this afternoon.  I have to say -

Finally - a decently written book about strong willed children.  "You Can't Make Me (But I Can Be Persuaded)" by Cynthia Ulrich Tobias.  A strong willed child herself, she grew up to then parent a strong willed child, and explains the mind of the SWC (as she calls it).  Sigh.  I feel vindicated in some strange way.  I am not crazy, or a bad parent - my child is truly incredibly strong willed.  Seriously - on a scale of 1-12 in her book, guess what his score is?  Practically every.single.description just had Bryan and I in laughter.  Seriously - did someone plant hidden cameras in our home? How does she know our child so well???

Anyway, *someone* actually wrote a book who knows what they are talking about.  It's more than just, "If your kid is strong willed - good luck, get on your knees, hope for the best, etc."

Additionally - - someone admits that the typical discipline strategies/fads*don't usually work* for the strong willed child.  I am NOT crazy, and I haven't been doing it all that wrong.  In fact, through blood, sweat, and many tearful prayers, we have actually been doing some things right.  We just have to keep it up and be willing to keep learning.

Feeling vindicated and hopeful tonight.  If any of you have a strong willed child, I'm not half way through the book, but I can already tell it's going to be very good.  I thought you might be interested in hearing about it too, especially if you have an SWC or know someone who does.

The Evolution of a Mommy, and Thoughts on Getting Ready to Receive Our Rainbow Baby

Okay so this is one of those, "I have been up a lot tonight and I'm not sure what's going to come out" posts...just to give you fair warning.  However, this topic just jumped into my brain again, and it's something I've been thinking about lately so we'll see what I come up with, and we'll see if I actually post this.  : )

We're roughly10-12 weeks before we can expect little Jeremiah to be born.   Time flies faster w/ each pregnancy.  By #4, I feel as if I've barely even been pregnant, but my continually protruding belly and the late night watches suggest otherwise.  I've been thinking these last few weeks, how 'ready' I am.  No, I'm not physically or environmentally ready yet.  Ha, does that ever really happen?  But I do 'feel' ready otherwise.

With my first, I had NO clue, of course.  I spent most of that pregnancy being miserable is all I can tell you.  I won't bore you w/ details, but I'm not going to lie either.  I wondered if I'd ever have the courage to do that again, but aside from a physically and emotionally gut wrenching first few weeks, we got through and he was one of those 'easy' (ish) babies, who has grown into an often delightful child of 4.  Apart from his daily infantile hints that he was to be a strong willed child, along w/ crazy hormones (mine), we made it through the first year pretty well. At that point like all new parents, we just rejoiced in the realization that we had done it.  We had kept a child alive for a whole year, thank you God!

Obviously I did have the courage to do it again. : )  For which I am so grateful, since my sweet #2, brand new 3 year old wouldn't be here if I didn't.  There's something so special about being a mommy to a little girl.  I can't quite explain it.  She's so much like me it's scary, and yet she's so different it's refreshing.  Her newbie days had their own set of challenges.  Nursing jaundice combined w/ coma like sleep, weight gain issues, etc.  Not to mention, she made me the mother of 2.  That was the real difficulty.  Finding the balance, or something like it.  I don't remember how we ate for 6 months.  I think Hubby did a lot of cooking, thank God for that man.

In the midst of all that, realizing the challenges that come w/ each child I remember thinking and saying a few times...Never.  NEVER again.  I am done. !

And so, I ate my words with our little butterfly baby about a year later.  I was both thrilled and terrified at the thought of 3.  I had just barely 'gotten used to' having 2.  Now 3?  Thrilling!  And terrifying.  And overwhelming.  Until...

We found out the news that she had touched our lives for a short time (Somewhere in there I learned the term 'butterfly baby' which resonated w/ me) and that was her purpose of life on Earth.  Oh how I ate those words..."Never again."  Words that escaped my mouth and not His - in my keen new awareness that He truly is the giver and taker of life.  I don't think anything other than the death of a child can teach you that lesson in quite the same way.

(Please note what I am not saying: that this experience was somehow punishment for things said and felt in frustration.  God doesn't work that way generally, or we'd all be in trouble an awful lot.  I'm not entirely sure why we lost our child, but please don't think I believe her loss was punishment.  Nor am I saying anyone's loss is punishment.  Just to clarify.)

So now here we are, awaiting our rainbow baby (baby after a loss if you haven't heard the term), with only a few weeks left in front of us.  I'm not really sure what I'm trying to say here so I'll just come out w/ what comes up and leave it at that.

Looking back on all these experiences - the good, the bad, and the just plain ugly...I can circle back to what I said before.  I'm ready, and thankful.  For little or no sleep, crazy hormones, the struggle to find the 'balance', the ability to nurse or not (of course hoping I can, long story maybe I'll share another time), and just plain finding my way through it all again.  I'm ready for the days I don't do so well, and the days I know I'll smile at as I see them coming on the horizon, and everything it takes to get there.  I'm ready to enjoy the struggles and soak up the hard won, or easily gained - joy (depending on the moment). 

With the artist who penned these words, I can truly say, "You give and take away, you give and take away.  My heart will choose to say, Lord blessed be your name."  However he chooses to deliver this little package, I'm ready to welcome his gift into my arms.