NICU (facts)

I've had to write this post over a few days, for a couple of different reasons. It has been quite a busy and chaotic time for us, and finding the time to process my feelings, let alone write them down, has been rare.

When they came in and told me that Tatum was going down to the NICU, it was around 1 in the morning. After my nurse left, I couldn't fall back asleep. So around 3:30, I woke up poor Billy, and said I wanted to go down to see her. So we called my nurse in and told her we wanted to go down and she helped get us a wheel chair and hook the catheter up to is and stuff. (Let me tell ya, few things are more awkward than rolling around the hospital with your pee on display...)

When we got there, we met with her MD, who said they were getting chest x-rays done, as well as doing a few other things, and that there wasn't a whole lot of room in there for us. So we sat in the parents' lounge and waited. Well, I thumbed through the NICU scrapbook, Billy slept on the couch. After about an hour and a half, we decided to head back to the room. Sitting on a hard wheelchair with a catheter in, is not all that comfortable, and we needed some sleep so we headed back up.

Later that morning, I got my catheter out, got a shower and changed into some real clothes, and got ready to go see our girl.

We walked in to see my sweet little baby hooked up to monitors and tubes and IVs and a high frequency ventilator that constantly, gently shook her little body, she was sedated and on pain meds, which helped, to know that she wasn't hurting. I told people I knew what to expect, but I wasn't sure that my heart was ready to see my baby so helpless and lifeless.

The first day was just a blur. Nurses, doctors, nurse practitioners, CNAs, home health doctors, lactation consultants, social workers, respiratory therapists, all came in to talk to us and overload us with information. To be honest, I listened, but knew that I wouldn't understand all that they were saying anyway. I just sat there, holding my baby's hand, and nodded and hoped Billy understood any of this. Later Tatum got a blessing from Billy and two of her grandpas that afternoon. It was was comforting and we knew she'd be ok.

On Wednesday I was discharged from the hospital. Billy and I spent the rest of the day in the NICU. We went home to get Will and have some dinner with him and put him to bed. Then I headed back to the hospital to be with her.

The first night away from her was horrible. I sat on the couch and sobbed to the point of hyperventilating. I wanted my baby home with me. It hurt to be so far away, and feel so powerless to do anything for her. It was probably the most devastated and defeated I've ever felt in my life. All I could do was have Billy hold me while we cried together.

The next few days were all the same. I would come and sit with Tatum, although she was sedated, talk to her and hold her hand. I'd do this for a few hours then head home to be with William. I'd get excited with the smallest changes. They seemed like we'd conquered Everest with each one. When they took out the tube sucking air out of her tummy, or when they took out her umbilical artery catheter, our when she started to get breastmilk, I would be so proud of her.

One night I got to help with her cares for the first time. I took her temperature, changed her diaper, brushed her hair, cleaned her mouth, helped weigh her. It was the most "interaction" with her I'd gotten in days. All the commotion, and the fact that she needed another dose of meds, she opened her eyes for a little while. She was very groggy, but it did my heart so much good to look into her eyes, even if it was just for that brief moment.

Friday afternoon I got the best surprise of all. I walked into her room and there was no ventilator, and her chest tube was out! Her nurse was so excited. Her whole NICU wing seemed to be in on the "surprise" and came in to see if I'd seen her yet, it was very sweet. Her nurse looked at me and said "I think you need to hold your baby!" We got to have some skin to skin time together, and it was magical. A few minutes in I called Billy and when he answered I said "guess what I'm doing right now... holding our baby!" About 20 minutes later he joined me and was holding our little girl. It made me so happy to see. After they extubated her, they took off her CO2 monitors on her chest and she let out the saddest, most hoarse cry, but she CRIED! It's weird to say, but it was the best sound!

The next few days she slowly but surely got better, and we got more and more anxious to get her home. I was able to start nursing her, and since they wanted me there for at least 3 feedings, I started spending more time there. William was passed around from family member to family member, and while he didn't seem too much worse for the wear, I couldn't help but feel torn in my time, and guilty no matter where I was.

Pretty soon we got to the point where all she needed was to keep doing great with her feedings and she could come home. That was the most frustrating. She was doing so well and I just wanted her home. On Friday, the 21st we got the best news, that we could bring our girl home! She had to do a carseat test, basically, she had to sit in her carseat for 90 minutes without any desats in her oxygen levels. She passed with flying colors.

The discharge process was a bit long and tedious, probably mostly because we were so ready to have her home, and all that they were doing just seemed to be prolonging that. But after some happy, tearful hugs, we signed out of the NICU for the first time.

Life post-NICU has been interesting. I have to keep reminding myself that I don't need to scrub all the way up to my elbows all the time, or that I don't need to taker her temperature or weigh her diapers every three hours. I still bathe in hand sanitizer. I'm sure it will be quite a while before she and I are away from each other.

Tatum Grace Holley

Well I'd say going two months without any new posts deserves a good update... and what an update I have for you.

WE HAD OUR BABY GIRL!!!!
And even more has happened since then.
So here's the story of how our little girl made her entrance into the world:

At my 37 week appointment my blood pressure was a bit high. It had steadily been going up the last few weeks. Well my doctor ordered modified bedrest, and a 24 hour urine test. Oh yes, it's as glamorous as it sounds. I had to keep all of my pee in a big orange jug, and keep that in our fridge for 24 hours. They are testing for protein in your urine, which is an indication of pre-eclampsia, which is a pregnancy complication that is no good for mommy or baby.

Well my numbers came back high, but not to the point where it was emergent. The magic number is 300, and my protein levels were 257. So on my way to drop of my jug o' pee my doctor had me stop by and check my blood pressure. It was still pretty high, so I had to do ANOTHER 24 hour test. This time my numbers came back at 289. This was on Sunday the 13th, and that afternoon we got the call from the doctor. She said I was "2 seconds away from full blown pre-eclampsia" and we would be going in to have our baby that day!

So we started to get ready. I of course, had to take a shower, and Billy, in true Billy fashion, did just about everything under the sun, including clean the toilet. Our friend Sam came over to watch William, and we were off to meet our baby.

We got all checked in and settled and around 6:00 pm the put in the foley balloon to help manually dilate my cervix, and gave me some pitocin to kickstart some contractions. Well, they started, and while it all was pretty uncomfortable, it wasn't all that bad. Well I had to go to the bathroom, and let me tell ya, that was uncomfortable! There was a lot of pressure, so the nurse checked the foley balloon by giving it a little tug, and out it came, which meant I was at least 4 cm dilated. Turns out I was at 5.5! So they said they would break my water. I decided I'd rather stay on top of my pain, although I could tolerate it alright, and got an epidural. With Will I waited quite a while, and just couldn't fully relax until I got the epidural, so I decided to see how it would go if I was a little more proactive. It took a little bit to get comfortable and not feel the pain of the contractions anymore, but it kicked in nicely. I started shaking a lot around this time. The nurse said it was normal, but it was frustrating that it was so hard to control. Billy and Ann were my champions through the whole thing, helping me calm myself down and Billy even fed me ice chips. It was a nice little cliche. ;)

Around 11:00 I started feeling more pressure and the contractions a little more, so they checked me and I was an 8! I was surprised at how easy and fast this was going, it was seeming to go the exact opposite of William's. With Tatum they only had to turn the pitocin up to 5, where it was up at 20 (as high as it goes) for hours before I got my epidural with William.

At about midnight they came in to check me and said I was complete, and I could tell, lots of pressure!
My OB was delivering another baby so she was going to be just a little while. She came in, had me push through one contraction and knew it was go time. So everything got prepped really quickly, and two contractions later, I had a baby on my chest instead of in my belly!
She came into this world at 1:23 am on 4/14/14, my little Tatum Grace.

I couldn't help but think how small she was. After having a ten pound baby, it was a little odd having such a "small" baby. She weighed 8 lbs 5 oz. The best news came from my doctor about 2 minutes after she was born. "you didn't tear at all!"

All was great, we got up to our room around 3:00 and tried to get as much sleep as you can in a hospital right after you have a baby. We seem to like having our kids in the middle of the night, let me tell ya, it's not a good idea!

A little while later the nurses noticed Tatum was breathing a little fast, so for a while I couldn't feed her, because they didn't want her to aspirate on my milk. Every now and then they would take her back to the nursery after they checked her vitals. She would make a little grunting sound when she would breathe.
 ***WARNING!! THIS MIGHT BE A BIT MUCH FOR THOSE WITH A WEAK CONSTITUTION***
This whole time, I was feeling great. Much better than I did with William, that's for sure. Around lunchtime I started get really uncomfortable. My pain was increasing and I felt a little pressure. Suddenly I felt a clot come out, I could tell it was pretty big, so I had Billy get my nurse. She helped me up to the bathroom and then checked for excessive bleeding, but it all looked good. A little bit later the pain and pressure came back, this time much worse. So I had Billy call the nurse back in and she started massaging my uterus. The pain got incredibly intense, and then all of a sudden, relief. My bed filled up with blood and clots. (My doctor later told me that there is a term for audible bleeding, when there is so much coming out so fast you can hear it. They don't use it very often, but it exists for cases like this) Pretty soon my room was filled with nurses and CNAs and doctors. In that sea of people all I wanted was Billy. He was so good to stay by my side and hold my hand and try to keep me from worrying. Everyone was moving in such a blur, and talking over me in that way that doctors do when there is an emergency but they're trying to keep themselves and everyone else calm. They started hooking things into my IV and giving me shots, and trying to keep my focus. Then the doctor told me to try to relax as much as I could, and that she was sorry she had to do this. That's when the real pain started. She had to check inside to make sure there were no more clots and no leftover placental tissue. I just remember crying, asking her "please don't", and wanting to pass out. I had my sweet nurse holding one hand and rubbing my leg, saying "I'm so sorry, almost done" over and over, and Billy holding my other hand telling me to keep looking at him. Then the worst was over. Nothing more that they could see.
***OK! IT'S OVER***

Then I got the best visitor in the world. William came to see his baby sister! He gave her kisses and hugs and was so sweet. Luckily, people got pictures, because I was so weak and tired from what had just happened (not to mention a little sluggish due to the pain meds they had just given me) that I didn't get to fully enjoy seeing them together for the first time. He and I got some good snuggles in, and that did my heart so much good.

That afternoon Tatum's vitals started getting a little low, so they took her to the nursery to be monitored. Later we had a nurse come in and tell us that they did a chest scan on her and said that it looks like the bottom portion of her lung had collapsed, so our pediatrician was conferring with a doctor down in the NICU. We got a call just a little while after that saying that the doctor in the NICU said it just looked like she had air in her diaphragm that was compressing her lung and that she should be ok, but that they'd do another chest scan later. So I asked Billy to wheel me down to see her and hold her in the nursery, after they did her second chest scan. While we were there they got the results and said that it looked like it had improved, so we thought we'd turned the corner. They said they'd keep her a little longer and watch her.

Well, with all that happened earlier that day, I had to leave and go lie down. So I reluctantly left my baby.
Around 1 am my nurse came in and told me that Tatum's levels had gotten worse and that she was being sent down to the NICU. She had pneumonia and pneumothoraces (portions of both lungs collapsed).

I'll have to update on the NICU experience another time, I'm still processing it all to be honest. Lots of emotions. But she is doing well and making incredible strides. Hopefully we will get to bring her home soon.

I promise next time I will have pictures! ;)

"I Like Your Tummy, Libby!"

It's funny how your perspective changes when you see things through a child's eyes.

Occasionally, I get to watch this cute little girl...

Reece is a typical almost 3 year old girl. She's into everything princess, and frilly, "girly" things.
She has been so excited about the baby, she is much more into it than William is. From the beginning she's been so curious and excited about Tatum, and is fascinated how every time I see her, my tummy has grown a little. (or a lot...) She also like to tell me about the baby in HER tummy :)

We got to play with Reecie Roo this week, and of course, she asked questions, wanted to feel Tatum moving, and was so excited to see the bed we'd just set up for her.

As she was leaving, we were saying our goodbyes and she looks at me and says "I like your tummy, Libby"
I didn't quite know what to say, so I just laughed and said "I like your tummy too, Reecie Roo!" What I didn't realize is that I would be thinking about that little exchange for the next few days.

Before I got pregnant with William, I can't remember really having body image issues. In fact, I will admit, it was almost leaning in the opposite direction. I was lucky to have a pretty slender body, and perhaps had a bit of a false sense of security in it. Then I had a baby. Scratch that... then I had an over ten pound baby.

I understood WHY my middle was growing, but that didn't make it any easier to see the numbers on the scale going up every week. I got very self conscious, and felt very out of place in my own skin. This was not the body I was used to. I know it may seem a little self absorbed, I should be grateful that I'm able to make a baby, and believe me I was, it's just hard to fully appreciate the miracle of life, when you don't even feel like yourself.

Fast forward a little, the baby weight from Will came off pretty fast. Much faster than I anticipated, and I'm not going to lie, I was a little relieved. Recovery was pretty rough after having Will, and this helped me feel a little more like myself.

Then I got pregnant with Tatum.

I've found that I am one of those women, where you can't really tell that I'm pregnant until about 20 weeks... then I blow up! And now, here I am at 30 weeks, and I don't feel like I'm over-exaggerating when I say I'm pretty close to how big I was when William was born. Granted I don't weigh as much, but the belly is just as big. The last few weeks I have been having those same thoughts creeping in. Every time I pass a mirror I get a little disheartened. I already feel like this tummy is getting in the way, of holding Will, of me feeling like a human, it literally gets in the way of Billy and me.

Then an almost three year old told me she like my tummy.

As frustrating as it can be to have this belly in the way, as hard as it is to feel self conscious about my growing middle, as much as I strongly dislike the side effects of being pregnant, there is a little girl out there who still finds it all so magical. It's become so mundane and almost annoying at times that I forget just how amazing this big tummy of mine is. It is holding my sweet baby girl, that's what I just keep telling myself, that and it doesn't last forever. I only have 9 weeks or less of having this baby all to myself. So instead of focusing on the negative, I'm going to enjoy it while I can.

I'll just keep telling myself I like my tummy. :)

William

I just laid my two-year-old down for bed.
He's two.
My sweet baby boy is two.
I can't believe it!

Some of his two year old stats:
Height: 36"
Weight: 31 lbs.

Favorites:
Food: Broccoli Alfredo, Chicken, Oranges, Fruit Snacks, Mac and Cheese (although let's face facts, this boy is pretty good about eating whatever you put in front of him!)
Phrases: "Look at that!" "Are you there?" "Oh! Hi,______" "I love you!"
Things to do: Play at the park, Dance parties, Watching Shows (poor boy has watched a lot of those as mommy hasn't been feeling good!)
People to see: His Sam. his cousins! He loves playing with his cousins, I am so grateful for those built-in buddies! He loves his nursery teachers. We usually "bribe" him to going to and getting through the first half of church by telling him he'll get to play with Jake and Kalie.
His Daddy is his favorite person. Since we don't get to see him often William steals all the time he can with him.

William is such a sweetheart. He is a very affectionate little boy, who loves getting and giving hugs and kisses. Some little kids, and grown ups, don''t quite know what to do with it, but I LOVE getting his snuggles. He has always been my cuddle buddy.


He is getting to be a typical toddler boy. He loves wrestling, and throwing balls, he loves running and dancing, playing with cars and following his big boy cousins around. It's fun to see those traits coming out.

He is my sunshine. Such a happy little boy, and a hammy ham, if I've ever met one! He makes me laugh every single day. We have our rough moments, but they don't ever last too long, and it just ties our hearts a little stronger together.

The last two years have brought me more joy than I have ever known. I have grown as I watch him grow.
Thank you, William, for making me your mommy. You make daddy and me so very happy.
I love you so so so SO much!

What Love Is. (a mushy, gushy letter to my husband this valentine's day)

This Sunday, as you were holding me, I asked you if you would consider yourself "in love" with me. (oh yes, I ask my poor husband questions like this on a regular basis...) You said yes, but that you think it goes beyond that. That made me think of our time together so far, and how we have gone beyond "in love" and what exactly OUR love is.

--LOVE IS--
-when you stroke my hair to help me fall asleep

-wrestling with our little nugget
-being away for 17 hours every day to make a better life for your family
-coming home with some of my favorite candy
-taking over "mommy duties" when I don't feel well (which, let's face it, has been quite a bit the last few months)
-putting your arm around me
-letting me put me feet on your stomach when they're cold
-putting up with my loopy self when I get tired
-changing dirty diapers
-making William giggle like no one else can
-giving me the opportunity to stay at home with our kids
-laughing 'til we can't breathe over silly things that no one else would probably find funny (Cha-Chunk?)
-when just getting to sit on the couch together is the best part of my day
-being the first to apologize
-letting our son climb in bed with us, even though we all know exactly how it will end
-holding me while I cry
-making an effort to have date nights together
-rubbing my back when I am "getting sick"
-massaging my feet. (or randomly buying me a foot bath to do it)
-eating sno-cones in the rain
-helping to ease my worries
-doing the dishes
-holding my hand
-the way you worry about me
-how you put others' needs ahead of your own
-always being willing to help
-being the best example of a good work ethic for our children (and me!)
-honoring the responsibilities you've been given
-wrestling
-not making fun of my (lack of) frisbee skills
-praying with me
-praying FOR me
-not being critical of me... and my many flaws
Let's face facts, this list could go on... and on... and on...

Love is all of the little things that end up really being the biggest things.

I feel like Russell said it best. "That might sound boring, but I think the boring stuff is the stuff I remember the most." (Oh yes, I just brought Up into this!)

I love you, Billy, and the many ways you show you love me. Hopefully you can feel the same from me.

My "Average, Unexceptional, Not-As-Important" Life

A friend shared a blog entry on her facebook page recently.

Most of the articles being shared around facebook, at least by my other "average" mommy friends are articles like Babies Ruin Bodies, or Let Your Husband Love You. But this new viral blog entry had a much more negative tone to it.

I'm not sure I want to give it the credit and attention of naming it or giving you a link, instead I'll just share some of the quotes that particularly stuck out to me:
"Do people really think that a stay at home mom is really on equal footing with a woman who works and takes care of herself?"
"Having kids and getting married are considered life milestones. We have baby showers and wedding parties as if it’s a huge accomplishment and cause for celebration to be able to get knocked up or find someone to walk down the aisle with. These aren’t accomplishments, they are actually super easy tasks, literally anyone can do them...They are, by definition, average. And here’s the thing, why on earth are we settling for average?"
"If women can do anything, why are we still content with applauding them for doing nothing?"
"You will never have the time, energy, freedom or mobility to be exceptional if you have a husband and kids."
"I hear women talk about how 'hard' it is to raise kids and manage a household all the time. I never hear men talk about this. It’s because women secretly like to talk about how hard managing a household is so they don’t have to explain their lack of real accomplishments. Men don’t care to 'manage a household.' They aren’t conditioned to think stupid things like that are 'important.'"
"Women will be equal with men when we stop demanding that it be considered equally important to do housework and real work. They are not equal. Doing laundry will never be as important as being a doctor or an engineer or building a business."

Oh yes, she really did say all that... and more!

I realize that I am exactly the kind of woman that the writer looks down on. I met my husband when I was newly 19 years old, and what do you know, I married that man after dating for ONLY a little over a year. I (gladly) put my education on hold so that we could get him through to his engineering degree (graduation is in APRIL!!!). After a year and a half of marriage I had those crazy-woman feelings of wanting to be a mom, and 9 months later I was holding my son. I stayed at home with him, while watching other little kids, and what do you know, here I find myself doing it all over again, getting ready to meet our daughter in 12 short weeks.

My life story is not one that will be extraordinary to tell. I wake up, take care of my family, my home, myself, go to bed and do it all over again the next day. It will sound average, it will seem mundane, but that is not how it feels.

I'm a wife. I loved a man so much that I decided to be sealed to him for time and all eternity. If you have ever felt anywhere close to how I feel about that man, you would know that those feelings are not average, they are beyond extraordinary. He is my very best friend. He is the person I feel most like myself with. I feel safe and secure and loved when that man holds me in his arms. His joys are my joys, his heartaches my heartaches. He is the one I want to share every success and every happiness with. We are a team, he and I, and that doesn't feel average at all.

I'm a mom. It is incredible, the feeling of growing a life, one that is the best parts of you and the man you plan on spending eternity with. My son looks at me with his daddy's deep chocolate brown eyes and I am reminded of just how amazing it is that I made that from scratch! He was made in the most incredible moment a husband and wife can share. Perhaps by definition that moment is pretty average, but to me it's extraordinary. Loving my husband and my children the way I do does not feel average. Being selfless enough to care for others, in any capacity, is not average it is extraordinary.

There are days that are hard. It is hard to have a frustrated (almost) two year old yell at you, hit you, not able to understand you as you're trying to reason with him why he can't eat ANOTHER sucker, or why he can't play on mommy's elliptical, or why if I watch Shark Tale  one more time I might throw a tantrum. It is hard to be so frustrated with such a little person and know they are just as frustrated with you. It's hard to feel like an inadequate mother/woman in those moments, you love this little person so much, these moments make your heart hurt. There are days when my son has been sick, those days are hard. Cleaning another person's bodily functions day after day is not my idea of a good time. Scrubbing puke off of little bodies, furniture, carpet, that makes for a long, hard day. Seeing your baby in pain, that is hard. We go without seeing my husband all day, as he is working on his degree and at his job. He leaves while we're in bed and comes home to the same scenario. Sometimes William goes days without seeing his daddy. That is hard. I knew there would be hard days, but that is all part of being an average, unexceptional woman

There are easy days too! There are days that my son and I have lounged around in jammies. We've watched shows and played with toys, gone to the zoo, swam at the pool, giggled and played and been happy all day. There are days that my heart aches for those mommies who work outside of the home but would rather be with their kiddos, because I know exactly what they are missing out on, days like these! There are incredible women out there, who work double time, those moms who work outside and in the home. On our good, happy, easy days, I feel a little twinge of guilt that I am able to sit on our couch and watch an episode of Grey's Anatomy (although this is only during naptime, after the house is clean, and usually while folding a load of laundry), I'm not going to lie. Then on some of the hard days I long for the escape of a job outside of the home...

It's not a glamorous life, but this is the life I have always wanted. The feeling of being someone's wife and mother, can't be put into words, they are too special and too much for my heart to comprehend at times.

Doing what I do may not be important or high on others' priority lists, but it is everything to me.
Perhaps the rest of my life will be incredibly average and I will never accomplish anything worthy of worldly praise, but if I can raise my son and daughter to be happy, strong, intelligent, good-hearted people, then I will feel like my average life meant something, and that it was extraordinary.

My only accomplishment may be getting my son to laugh... but if you have ever heard that boy's giggle, you know that it is not average, it is extraordinary!

Baby Mine

**BRACE YOURSELVES FOR SOME BABY RAMBLINGS!**


Tatum is well over half-way to making her debut.

Here I am at 24 weeks, belly stretched beyond belief, feeling my baby girl kicking away.
This pregnancy has been so slow and yet has seemed to fly by at the same time. I keep thinking about when we found out, it was WAY back in the middle of August! Doesn't that seem forever ago? One minute I swear I've been pregnant for years, and then I can't believe I'm as far along as I am.
I look forward to Tuesdays the most, when the weeks roll over.

Symptom wise, it all seems pretty familiar. Nausea, fatigue, headaches, peeing all the time, feeling huge, not being able to breathe when lying on your back, braxton hicks... it's such a magical time! I do feel like it's all a little more intense than it all was with William. Everything is just up another level. although, we have made it to 24 weeks without having to rush to the hospital, so I'm counting that as a victory!

William has been a little funny. I swear, on some level he must know his world is about to change. Since I first got pregnant he started to be a stage-5 clinger. He started always needing to be held, or at least hold my hand. Now that I have a tummy, he likes to cuddle with his sister,and loves giving my tummy "buzzers", if we bring up the fact that he's going to have a sister, though, or even talk about mommy having a baby at all, he is usually less than impressed, not very interested. In fact, when we help him say his prayers at night, he runs down his list of family members... "KeKe, Kyle, Sarah, Papa, Nana, Ellie, Grandma..." Those he does by himself, he'll repeat every other thing we say, except to bless Tatum. He will not say her name. (Well he has a few times, he says it "Tamer". It's the cutest thing!) He LOVES babies. He is so interested in his new cousin Audrey. I'm sure he'll be curious and sweet with baby sister when she gets here, at least I can hope so.

The other day I had a mini meltdown for Billy about this baby's timing. Let me tell you just how good we are at planning... Tatum's due date is April 29th. She will most likely come a little earlier than that. My doctor says she doesn't want me to have another 10+ pound baby, as Will had shoulder dystocia, and then with him coming out the way he did (Hands up like a boxer, and elbows out, so he dug them in on his way out) my recovery was a long, painful process that included me being hospitalized with endometritis that turned septic. neither she nor I want me to have to go through that again. So the other day, out of no where, I start worrying about timing with her. My doctor said they will be monitoring her growth closely towards the end. Well we know that the ultrasounds towards the end can be a little inaccurate towards the end when it comes to measuring. What if they look at her around 38 weeks and she LOOKS like a good size, but then ends up coming out small? Or what if they look at her, and she looks normal sized so they let her lungs develop a little more and then she comes out a 12 pounder? Or what if I end up having to have a c-section? And then there's the matter or Billy's graduation? This baby is going to be born right around his final exams, and then there's commencement, and after all we have been through, I am going to watch him walk, darn it! And then we will want to have a party to celebrate his accomplishment, so many people have supported us, we want to share in the moment with them. And hopefully Billy will have a new job on the horizon, possibly a new living situation for us. This is going to be an incredibly busy spring, and it worries me sometimes.

Luckily Billy has a way of keeping his admittedly high strung wife calm. Mostly I just tell myself it's the hormones. I'm only able to use that excuse for so long, so I'm going to use it while I can!

This little girl is such a blessing.
We've decided on a name for her- Tatum Grace. Tatum is an English name (like William) and means "cheerful, full of spirit, bringer of joy". Grace, she gets from my Grandma Robel, it was her middle name as well. She is already living up to her name. She brings me so much joy, I can't even explain it. If you know me at all, you probably know just how little I feel I know about girls. I wasn't a girly-girl by any means growing up. I was relieved when the ultrasound tech told me William was a boy. I have said that my dream would be a family of 6 boys. But I've had a feeling from the beginning though that this baby was a girl, which was intimidating at first, but she just fits. She makes my heart feel so full, and I haven't even met her yet!

We are so excited to meet you, sweetheart!