Utterly Exhausted

Jesse went back to work on Friday and so ends my "break" after childbirth and all that followed it.  If you called me, texted, emailed, or otherwise tried to contact me I will get back to you in about 10 years.  September babies bring with them ALL the activities that start in September plus homeschooling.  Today was my original due date so I had thought I'd get a few weeks of school in before I had the baby.  God had other plans so instead we got about four days in before I had him.  Then I was gone.  Now we are behind already.  I'm receiving mounds of emails from our newest co op.  My eyes still haven't even totally recovered from my double vision from the spinal headaches.  So I forward them to Hannah and hope for the best.  Evenings are completely taken up with activities of all kinds.  And, yes, we pared down as much as possible.  We can't afford much, luckily, and prayerfully discerned what was important and what wasn't. 

As I watched Frances with Augustine the other day I thought "awww - two babies".  Then I thought "OH MY GOSH TWO BABIES".  Blessings, lucky, heart full, all of those things - yes.  LOTS OF WORK AND VERY LITTLE SLEEP - yes.  I know it's just a season - having all these young kids and older ones too.  Will I regret it - not likely.  Is it hard - yes.  I'm not physically recovered yet. I can't even lift Frances.  Lucky for me I have the best kids in the world and are all (usually) more than willing to lend a hand.  We have been receiving meals for three weeks and I cannot explain what a blessing that is. 

A few days before Augustine arrived Hannah mentioned that we are having no break from babies.  We are "basically repeating last year".  True.  Again I feel ill equipped, scattered, and disorganized.  Now I've lost many of my short term memory thanks to the spinal headaches.  I hear the memories may return.  I know these are not monumental problems and that I've complained through this whole blog.  But I needed to get that out.

 

Of course there is more to be grateful for than there is to complain about.  Augustine is mostly healthy.  He will need a surgery to repair the kidney function on one side.  That's in a few months so I'm pretending we won't need to do that.   The other kids are adjusting well to our newest addiction.  Three in diapers (again) isn't so bad.  It's not.  Trust me.  They will potty train eventually.  Josie says when the pink potty train shows up in the yard she won't need diapers anymore.  SUNSHINE and awesome weather.  I'm back to walking everyday.  Not very far but at least it's a walk and it's good weather to walk in.  We all made it to Mass this weekend.  It took a few trips and three different Mass times but we did it. Brandon and Rose will be here in TWO days!!  I can't wait to have the whole family together for a little while.   Coffee.  Coffee.  Coffee.

 

And with that I'm out of here.  Jesse, Hannah, and Owen-less tonight means solo bedtime for me (I'm hoping Katie will help)....I know it's completely good parent incorrect but I would also like admit that I'm grateful for the iPad.  It keeps Josie VERY happy while I attempt bedtime with the others.  And as Josie would say "See you later.  Don't let anyone get hit by a car".  Happy Monday everyone.

 

One Week And The Difference It Makes

 

"Christ has no body on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ's compassion for the world is to look out; yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good; and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now." ~Saint Teresa of Avila

 

A week ago today I lay in my hospital bed flat on my back unable to eat, hardly able to drink, and worst of all unable to make the trek down the hallway to see my three day old baby.  The first time I saw him he looked so helpless with all the tubes and wires.  That is the picture that was stuck in my head as I stared at the ceiling in that hospital room literally for hours on end.  Occasionally I managed to reach the hospital phone and dial the number to the NICU.  I would mumble that I was calling to check on "my baby" and they would give me the report.  I wondered if he thought I had abandoned him.  One minute he was nestled snug inside the safety of the womb and the next he was literally ripped out and taken away.  A text I received from a dear friend said " Remember he's in good Hands.  And I don't mean the doctors or nurses".  That was an incredibly comforting thing to hear.  In all the chaos I tried to remember to ask Mother Mary to be with him whispering in his ears that I wasn't far away.  I remembered all I had heard about infant bonding and nursing and how if you don't do it immediately it's over.  They won't know you. They won't nurse.  I was terrified.  Another friend texted support reminding me that adoptive mothers nurse their babies and that she knew me well enough to know that I would make it work.  That comforted me for a while.   Still I doubted.  The days dragged on.  The nurses were some of the kindest people I'd ever met.  Mine and Augustine's.  Each time I sent Jesse down to the NICU I would say "tell them I want to be there but I can't sit up".  In no time I think every nurse on the floor knew my story.  I was a little compulsive about it to say the least.  I didn't want to be known as the mom with so many kids that she didn't even visit her baby in the NICU.  At the end of each excruciatingly painful day I would make Jesse wheel me down there just for a minute.

 

I won't lie and say that I didn't question God again and again.  I had plenty of time to do so.  Plenty of time for Rosaries and Divine Mercy Chaplets and all the prayers I knew by heart.  I replayed the last year in my mind like a broken record.  I counted my blessings too.  Counted all the times I'd had babies that were healthy right from the start.  Grateful that my baby wasn't one that would be in there for months on end.   When I had Frances and had the csection I thought I'd "covered all the bases".  Hospital births, home birth, birth center, and then a section.  I hadn't thought of the countless other traumas and experiences.  I chastised myself for my tunnel vision.  As a mother of 12 people assume you've seen and done it all.  I haven't, thankfully, and I hope I won't.  I have no interest in seeing it all.

 

Last night was my first full night I got to spend with little Augustine.  I must say I stayed awake almost all night.  I was in awe and I was afraid of his breathing too.  I was grateful and counted all the joys a thousand times or more.  I was regretful of all the times I had taken for granted.  My heart was full of gratitude.

And today our favorite photographer came to take pictures.  We shared NICU stories as two of her three children had spent time in there as well.  It's funny how in life when things happen you learn so much about other people's lives.  When I started miscarrying I learned of other's losses.  To those I have shared details of the past year with I've learned of their struggles as well.  And now NICU stories from caring and helpful friends add another chapter to the book.  While I could have totally done without two spinal headaches and two blood patches I know that suffering wasn't without it's reward in the end.  As the evil one whispered "if He really loved you this wouldn't be happening to you" in my ear one night the Holy Spirit breathed on me the voice of Truth.  It is precisely in our deepest sufferings that He loves us the most. 

One week later we have no tubes, no long hallway separating us, no headaches.  My little Superman knows me and I know him.  I wish I knew how to properly thank all who prayed, supported, and cared for me and my family when we needed it most.  You all truly are the hands and feet of Christ that we are all called to be.  Thank you for the example you have set for my children and for the love you have shown to all of us.  The difference a week makes is astounding.   Please continue to pray for Augustine as he has to have more tests done next week for his one kidney that isn't working.  I will update you all as I get more information. 

 

Home

I must have walked this long hallway 100 times the past week.  At first it was in a wheel chair but later I was able to walk myself.  The baby was way down at the other end in the NICU.  It's hard to believe that just a few days ago he had a feeding tube, oxygen in his nose, and a million other wires attached to him.  Now, thanks be to God, we are home.

 So many pictures to sort through.  So much to do to get re acclimated at home.  So many people waiting in line (literally outside my bedroom door right now as I type) to hold the baby.

 

Thanks to everyone for your prayers and support. We wouldn't be here without all of you.

When It's Not How You Planned It {Welcome Augustine John Paul Pio}

 

After two nights of contractions too strong to let me sleep and too weak to really get me anywhere I headed to the doctor for a "check".  A few days earlier I had mentioned to a friend that something felt *off*.  The doctor said I was definitely in "early" labor and was dilated to 3 which, for me, could go on for weeks.  That evening we did our normal things, dinner, bedtime, walking.  When we got back it seemed like the contractions were closer and more "real" but I didn't want to get my hopes up so I took a bath thinking they would stop.  They didn't.  I layed down thinking they would stop.  They got closer.  At 37 weeks 2 days I didn't think there was any way I would be in labor on my own.  Still the contractions got closer together and harder to take so around 11pm we were off to labor and delivery.  Once there my water broke and I knew we weren't going home.  The baby would be born and soon. We called my parents and let the older children know we were in it for the long haul.   After months of trying to decide if I should have a VBAC or not it seemed like the decision had been made for me.  We were put in a room and things got going.  Then they stopped going.  Normal for me. Except not normal was how I felt.  I felt like I had the flu.  I was feverish and worn down and my anxiety was through the roof.  I confided in the nurse about the stresses of the past year because I was sure it was affecting my ability to labor well.  Never one to be totally optimistic I also wouldn't say I was pessimistic (especially in a case like this) but I felt fearful that the worst would happen and that the baby was in danger.  They started pitocin a little at a time to help contractions along but instead the baby's heartbeat would decelerate with each contraction.  Off and on went the pitocin all night.  Up and down went his heart beat.  Finally we decided it was time to do a repeat csection.  By that point I was so exhausted, I'd had one failed epidural and another that only took part way.  I hadn't eaten in days or slept either due to the early labor from the days before.  This was not how I had planned it. 

 

Earlier in the week I had been reminded of the Bible verse Jeremiah 29:11

"For I know the plans I have for you" declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you,plans to give you hope and a future."

 

The verse ran through my head again and again.  Friends texted and telephoned prayers and support.  After the decision to have the csection was final I thought "he will be here soon and this will all be a memory".  I remembered most things from the csection I'd had 13 months earlier.  This time I wasn't as nervous about them cutting me open but I did have other issues.  I set the record for vomit in the delivery room (true story) and I prayed so hard that I would hear his little cry letting me know that everything was OK.  Within a few minutes he was out and crying but everything was not ok.  They brought him to me for 1 second, said I could kiss him and that he would be going to the NICU for a few hours.  So I got sewed up and sent to recovery with no baby.  I am not the first to have this happen, I know, but this was the first time it has happened to me (I'm incredibly lucky).  But sitting there with no baby felt wrong.  Within two hours I was on my way to my own room.  They rolled my bed into the NICU so I could see my sweet guy for just a minute.  I touched him gently and wondered if he was really mine at all.  Then it was time to go.  At our hospital they play a lullaby when a mom rolls down the hallway with a new baby.  They still played the lullaby as I was wheeled into my room but I didn't have the baby.  After all that had happened that day I was incredibly groggy.  My head was pounding and I was sick to my stomach.  I texted and posted on facebook for prayer requests and my friends did not let me down.  I know if not for those prayers I would have been completely lost. I tried to pray and I slept but each time I woke up I checked for the baby who had occupied my tummy for all of those weeks.  He wasn't there anymore.  I sent Jesse down to the NICU a dozen times that afternoon and evening.  My headaches increased and I could no longer sit up.  It was clear I had a spinal headache from the epidural.  Not only was I separated from my baby but I couldn't even sit or stand.  This was not my plan.

 

Romans 8:28

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose".

 

Trust in God is what I have learned this past year.  Trust.  While I was pretty sure the baby wasn't in terrible danger of death what did I know?  I only know that whatever was to happen it was God's plan and I had long ago promised to accept His will.  As a favorite song of mine says (Jesus) "won't lead me where You won't go". 

 

Day 2 arrived.  Still no baby in my arms.  Still a headache the likes of which I had never known.  Hannah came and I attempted to visit the baby with her.  I could not sit.  My ears rang and my eyes couldn't focus.  My baby lay there helpless, scared, and with a million wires running in and out.  I cried so much that day the insides of my eye lids were bright red.  I remembered what a favorite priest of mine had preached for years - to "suffer well".  To use our suffering for the good of others.  I don't know that I did that so successfully but I tried.  I took in prayer requests and as I lay on yet another operating table for my blood patch to help the headaches I listed them in my head.  I prayed for Mary's intercession and St. John Paul II, Padre Pio, St. Augustine, St. Monica.  At the end of day two I still hadn't held him.  But I could sit up to pump milk for him and I could touch him.   My guys at home had come up for a visit.  Oh how I missed them and how I was torn between the two worlds.  I couldn't be with any of my children.  I knew for me it was temporary and for some people it is not.  I had long since learned to praise Him in the storm and so I did.  But I questioned Him too because that's who I am.  I asked why.  Had I not suffered enough this year.  I knew it could be worse but really.  Why.  No answer came. I had to trust as I said I would. 

 

The next day my headache was gone and I could walk well.  I must have walked to the NICU eight or ten times.  That night they let me hold him for the first time.  It was like heaven on earth.  How had I taken these things for granted for so very long?  I wanted to nurse him and bundle him and put his little hat on.  That was my plan.  Still I took in what I could.  That night I spent nearly the whole night in the NICU with little Superman.  It was decided that he had contracted an infection from my amniotic fluid during labor and it had rapidly spread to his lungs.  He was put on antibiotics, oxygen, a feeding tube.  The next day I woke up and the headache was back with a vengeance.  It was a Saturday.  The pain clinic that did blood patches was closed until Monday.  To pump milk for the baby I had to literally hang over the bed.  My head was wrapped in diapers filled with ice.  I cried.  Alot.  This seemed like a bit much.  I was back to not being able to visit him.  I couldn't see my other kids.  I couldn't eat.  My nurses were amazing.  That's about all I remember from those two days.  Eucharistic ministers brought in communion.  For those days that was my only Food, basically.  It gave me comfort and strength.  By Monday afternoon when I got my second blood patch it seemed Augustine was out of the woods and ready to nurse.  I needed desperately to be able to sit up.  The second blood patch was more traumatic than the first.  It took three times to find a place to get the blood from all while I had a needle in my back.  I knew I was being lifted in prayer.  I could feel it.  I was grateful.  Last night I got to nurse Augustine for the first time.  I wasn't sure how he would take to it.  He was already 5 days old.  It turns out that was an unnecessary worry.  He latched on immediately and is a pro now.  So every few hours I shuffle down to the NICU and haev a date with my little guy.  I'm hopeful that the blood patch will last this time and the headaches will stay away.  Augustine seems much improved and he's losing wires of IV's and other meds by the hour.  I was able to go home today for a little while between feedings to see the other kids.  I miss them.  I miss the chaos, the homeschooling, the mess, cooking, the laughter.  Frances is full on walking.  Hannah has run the house beautifully.  Friends have dropped off meals and taken kids.  My parents have been back and forth.  I haven't really seen anyone.  The headaches were too bad for visits.  In the midst of all of this our Katie turned 14!  Friends and family ensured that she had a good day.  I cried.  But I learned, again, that I am NOT in control.  And I don't have to be.  God is and when we trust him things do work out ok.  We are still in the hospital and this is NOT what I had planned but somehow in the end it will be better. 

 

Psalm 30:5 says :

"Weeping may last for the night but a shout of joy comes in the morning"

 

As I hold little Augustine I think of the times I said "I have to nurse the baby" when really I should have been saying "I get to nurse the baby". 

 

For all of you NICU parents and families out there - God bless you.  This has been quite a ride and it's not over yet. 

 

Thank you to friends, family, strangers, everyone who prayed and are praying for us.  I truly, truly believe that prayer is powerful.  Keep praying.  I'm terrified the headaches willl return.  I am praying for all of you.  Even if I don't know you, God does.  He knows what you need.  For my awesome kids who have kept me company via FaceTime and texting, who have kept the house running, and who taught my other baby to climb down the stairs all by herself - thank you.  I love you more than you can ever know.

 

So here's the nitty gritty :

 

Augustine (August-un) John Paul Pio

Born September 10, 2014 at 1:43 pm

7lb 13 oz

21 inches long

 

 

All Glory and Honor and Praise be to God.

 

 

Seeking...Finiding {And How I Do It}

Yesterday was our first day of school.  I have no idea why I feel any pressure what so ever on the first day of school since it's really just a regular day at home plus a few work books but every year I panic.  Yesterday I was exhausted as it was so that didn't help.  Finally mid afternoon I made my way upstairs to sit on my bed for a good cry.  I got a text from Jesse that said "you're a super hero" and I responded with "no - I'm sitting on our bed crying".  I'm not a super hero nor do I wish to be.  I've been getting the question "how do you do it?" for the last 14 years or so since I had 4 kids or so.  Back then I stammered for an answer wonder really what did people mean?  What did they want to hear?  At that time I was young (26) and had a lot more energy than I do now.  And 4 never seemed that hard to me. 

These days the words "all good things come from God" (Psalm 27) ring in my head again and again.  When I try to rely on my own strength I fall flat on my face every time.  But when I rely entirely on God, as I've really learned in this past year, that is when the blessings flow. 

I start every morning with my own private devotions and a good cup of coffee (made by Jesse before he leaves for work).  I cannot stress enough how important this morning devotion time is.  I'm no early riser (especially right now) so kids are usually playing all around me but losing myself in God's Word is my favorite thing to do.  It can make even the most difficult mornings seem not so bad.

 

As the rest of the kids trickle down we do morning devotions together.  I love listening to the little ones spout out their prayer requests.  They speak from the heart like no one else.  We have special days for the children.  Monday is Brandon (and now Rose), Hannah, and Owen, Tuesday is Katie, Jackson, and Sam...etc.  But the younger kids always add in the children that are younger than them.  Always there are so many prayers for the babies.  In case it sounds all serene keep in mind that there is usually a screaming toddler in the background so we have to shout over them. 

As the day continues we do chores and school and I cook.  We integrate schooling into our daily lives.  Kids sit at the counter while I do dinner prep or bake something for morning snack.  I wonder if that's correct, ok, healthy....but it's all I know so it's how we "do it". 

In a few weeks we will add a new baby to the mix.  Usually that makes things easier on me instead of harder.  I'm not so graceful at pregnancy.....Back to my bed and my crying...Because I'm neither a super hero or a Saint I get overwhelmed like everyone else.  I listen too much to the voices telling me I can't possibly love my children enough (there are too many of them to love properly) or give them what they need educationally or otherwise.  I think of how many weeks or months it takes me to get driver's permits or a new pair of jeans or about the toddler who isn't dressed by noon.  As I wrote this blog I burnt boxed macaroni and cheese (truth) and when I opened the door of the fridge I spilled out a whole thing of yeast that I had used this morning to make bread (Owen cleaned that up for me - thanks Owen!).  Today I didn't cry about it but yesterday I would have.  My best advice to those struggling to do God's Will is that no man is an island.  God doesn't intend for us to carry our crosses alone.  Even Jesus needed help.  If you need help, ask.  If someone offers help, take it.  My closest friends receive texts often from me that say simply "I need prayer".  Prayer is a powerful tool.  Use it.

 

Last night Jesse said he would take the kids to the park.  I felt guilty sending him and staying home but I did it anyway.  I needed the break.  I did my evening prayer and put some laundry away.  I was reminded that every good thing comes from God.  This family is surely a good thing and a cross and exhausting.  I rarely sit and I don't get to contemplate theology as often as I would like.  I look for Jesus among the dirty dishes, diaper changes, and sticky fingers.  As Jeremiah 29:13 says "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."   This life is God's Will for MY life so that's how I *do* it.  I ask (beg) for His guidance and keep Him the center of all that I do (or I really try). 

Praying for all those who are beginning a new school year wherever that may be or whatever that may look like.  Seek first the kingdom of God (Mt 6:33) and you will not fail.

Here We Go! {2014/2015 School Year}

Here we are in our 13th year of homeschooling!  It's going to be an interesting fall for sure but if God brings you to it He will bring you through it, right?

 

Have a great school year everyone!!

 

 Frances wasn't so cooperative for her picture....