Wordless Wednesday : three peas in a pod planting a garden {one month ago}

 Sunday, May 22

Wordless Wednesday--Photo Booth

This was their first time in a photo booth...yet, somehow they knew just what to do!

Wordless Wednesday--"Oh, to Be a Sea Lion"

Wordless (or not!) Wednesday # 7: It all Began on Salt Creek Road

I just thought I'd post my favorite picture from our wedding. I meant to put this photo on for our anniversary in June, but we were away on vacation.


This picture was taken in front of the small, country Baptist church in Dallas that we were both raised in, and the church is on the road Jac grew up on. His childhood home is a mile from the church, and my childhood home is a mile or two up the hill from there. All those years we were growing up, playing in the woods, working in the garden, eating meals with our families,...romanticizing in our heads about our future and what it would hold, and we were a mere mile or so from each other all that time.

Growing up, I can remember wondering who my husband would be and where he was right then. I remember wondering if I knew him, or if he was someone I hadn't met yet. Looking back at how our lives unfolded in God's timing to become something even greater than we could have imagined makes me excited for the future, to see what God has in store for us next. I trust God, who knows infinitely more than I can even fathom, and works all details out for His greater plan.

Jac asked me out for the first time just a few feet from where this wedding picture was taken. It was October 1995, when Jac and I returned to the church with a group of friends from the 'College & Career' Sunday School class, after an outing to the beach together. As my friend and I walked to my car, getting ready to leave, Jac caught up to us. I was caught off guard as he called to me and asked to talk to me for a minute. It was then that my whole world changed in an instant. I hadn't paid particular attention to Jac that day at the beach, but as soon as he said his next words, "I wanted to ask you if you'd like to go out sometime?", I was from then on, forever changed. I dumbly said, "Yeah, that would be fun," and he said ok, and that he'd call me. That was it. He called me two days later, and we had a date the next weekend. In the three months following this life-altering exchange, I lost 30 pounds. I felt nervous and weak a lot of the time. He consumed my every thought. It was so strange. I had never fell for someone like that before. I still don't get it. How does that happen, that you can feel so strongly about someone you didn't even pay attention to just moments earlier? Maybe, unconsciously, I was paying attention, but I just didn't realize it. He is six years older than I, and I guess I just never thought he'd pay attention to me in that way. I was wrong. He commuted down an hour from Portland, and we went out nearly every weekend for the next two and a half years!

As I look at this wedding picture, and down the road where our lives together began, it symbolizes the road to our future. I realize, as I look down the road into that future, I can't see all that is there, but I do see the hope we have in God's plan. That hope is like the rays of the summer sun setting down Salt Creek Road.

Wordless Wednesday # 6: "We try to give you the world...but will an ocean view do for now?

"Wordless Wednesday" # 5--At the 'Splashpad' (as our Canada friends call it--I like that name!)

"Wordless Wednesday" #4: First Softball Game

Get 'em, tiger!

Cute brother (aka--bat boy, Daddy's sidekick)

Daddy, daughter (aka--intense coach, carefree kid/athlete-in-training)

"Wordless Wednesday" #3: Two Years Ago Today...

__________________________________________
Forget the 'wordless'--As I look at these pics, I realize how much significance was in this time in our lives as a young family. This is too fun to reflect on...

Here we were, on the big day we'd been planning for, decked out in spotless, coordinating "I'm the big brother/sister" t-shirts I'd made with iron-on transfers printed from the computer, ribbons in the hair, 'welcome baby' banner, which the kids made with their hand/footprints and doodling, posted in the hospital room, a basket full of cleverly re-labeled 'Here-she-is' bars to share with visitors, which included a 'nutrition facts' box with baby's name printed on the back and a space for J to fill in the birth stats, pink cardstock paper ready to receive extra footprints for the scrapbook...on and on...so many carefully planned, fun details to help make this last trip to the birthplace a very special one...but, why does it seem like this was the last perfectly orchestrated day we've had...seems so silly now, when life has been so real and 'nitty-gritty' at times with three. It's almost like I now prefer the chaos to it's polar opposite, because there has been such richness in it...in the authentic experience of real life.

The following is a story I wrote after Cate was born when prompted by a friend who thought this was the best labor story...as an aspiring writer, I wrote this thinking this might be a good story to get published in a pregnancy or baby magazine...they're always sharing labor stories...kinda raw...kinda humorous...and I hope my mother-in-law, if she reads this, sees the humor in it, and doesn't take offense...

My Labor Story

For no good reason, we had much premature anticipation of the beginning of labor with this pregnancy. Like a few weeks prior when I had had the stomach flu one long night, thinking I was in labor until it worsened in the wee hours of the morning. In hindsight, this turned out to be much worse of a feeling than going into labor, I would say. Then, there was the fact that Jim traveled across the country for business a couple weeks into the last month, making me keenly aware of every twitch or twinge. We began to fear he may miss the delivery, because even if I let him know right away, it would take him at least nine hours to travel back, no holds barred. That was when I was feeling a lot of cramps every other day. Then, there was 1-2 weeks of severe sciatica from my lower back all the way down my right leg, caused by the way the baby was pressing on the sciatic nerve. There really wasn’t much I could do to ease this pain doctors said, except rest. I wasn’t packed, nor did I have the house at all in order, and here I couldn’t stand or walk without severe, shooting pain. Needless to say, this forced the final days of pregnancy to drag on and on.

My doctor visits brought the most excitement, because each week the exam showed I was more dilated, until I was at a 5 the last two weeks. The last three weeks the doctor kept saying that I was so ready she would be surprised to see me at my next appointment. I mistakenly told this to countless others and got them excited without due cause. My sister-in-law, an experienced labor/delivery nurse, advised me not to wait when I did go in to labor, because if I was at a 5, and with my history of short labors, I could delivery quickly; instructions reiterated by my doctor. So, I finally did get things packed and actually in the car for the last week prior to my due date. I drove around town running errands with my bags, just in case. All this prompted my mother-in-law to pack five bags and move in with us ten days before my due date to “help”. When asked when she was planning on leaving, she said she was just thinking she’d wait until Monday for my next appointment to see what the doctor says, as if that would really mean anything definite. Thankfully, my husband cut her plans short and took her home after a couple nights stay. She was helpful, but it was much easier to relax in our home without company.

At last, my due date came… and went…, so, naturally, I began to feel like I would never go into labor. It was rather depressing and kind of defeating, like I had lost at some game; like having my baby after the due date is less exciting. I spent “d-day” more actively than I had been spending the past month. It was Sunday, and so we went to church. Strangely, I had skipped church the last week, moping around and wanting to hide out this one last weekend, since I would surely go into labor before next Sunday, and anyway, it was getting embarrassing to talk about my pregnancy over and over again to people who were expecting something to have happened by now. We met friends for dinner that night, and they took us to their local Mexican restaurant, joking that the spices may do the trick. I always eat spicy food, so I knew that wasn’t going to do it. Besides, I had come to the conclusion that there was nothing I could do to bring labor on any sooner.

The day after my due date, I went to my appointment around 10:30 Monday morning. I told the doctor that I had been feeling some pain in a small ball down very low in my abdomen since about 6 in the morning, and it was coming and going every so often; maybe every 20-30 minutes or so. She said she could hook me to a monitor and track to see if it was labor. I declined, as I would have to wait for it to come again while trying to entertain my two young children who were with me. She agreed with me that it could very well be constipation, which is what I was pretty certain I was feeling. I thought surely going into labor was like stronger Braxton Hicks contractions that firm up your entire stomach area. With my other two children, labor had been induced and so I really didn’t have experience in how early labor began.

I left the office and drove to Albertson’s to get groceries...and suppositories. I was taking a good long time shopping, finding it hard to concentrate, for some reason. The kids began to get restless and get into things. I started to not feel good, so we tried a trip to the restrooms. This was really turning out to be the longest and most miserable shopping experience I’ve ever had. As I tried to decide between brand or generic suppositories and compared prices, I suddenly became very annoyed with everything. I decided on the generic and made my way to the checkout. The lines were long, and it was noon-ish. “Oh, look at the cute newborn in front of us in the cart; I can’t wait!” I thought. As sweat began to bead up on my forehead, and I instructed my son and daughter to stop playing foursquare in the aisle and put the bouncy balls back, I struck up a conversation with the mother of the newborn. She had given birth 4 weeks ago, and she asked when my due date was. “Yesterday,” I was pleased to respond, and I told her about how ready I was. Then, as we were talking, I began to feel uneasy. I realized the pain I was feeling kept coming and going about five minutes apart. I finally told her that I really I didn’t know what I was doing grocery shopping because I was beginning to think I was in labor, but I wasn’t sure. She studied me for a second, and then responded that I probably was in labor. She told the cashier’s attendant that she should really help me out to the car with my groceries. I told her thanks and good-bye, as my excitement, …and fear began to grow. I began making notes in my head, and realized just how close these pains were. I had had many throughout the store, one in the checkout line and one while leaving the store, and another when getting into my car… ”uh-oh,” I thought. I better do something about this. It was about 1:00.

I called my Mom first; she was an hour away and was going to come and be with the children. I told her to get ready and I would call her back when I got home and figured out if it was really labor or not. I called Jim next, as I headed down the road toward home. I told him I was pretty sure and he should come home. He sounded excited and somewhat nervous about getting home and taking me to the hospital in time. He told me to call the doctor and let them know I was coming in, but I didn’t because I just wasn’t sure yet. I got home and unloaded all the groceries, and called Mom back and told her to come; helped Jessica make peanut butter sandwiches for her and her brother. After everything was cleaned up, put away, and I had the kids upstairs for their naps, I laid down on our bed to wait for Jim. I remember it hurting, but it also felt so good to lay down and just enjoy it. Jim got home about 2:00; walked into our bedroom and laughed at me lying there, but he didn’t stay relaxed for long. Quickly, he turned to business, instructing me to hurry and call my doctor, saying we shouldn’t wait for Mom, getting the kids up and shoes on, and changing his clothes. I talked to the nurse, and she said, “You were at a five, so you can’t wait, not even fifteen minutes for your mom; get here as fast as you can!” This turned out to be the best advice. We got in the car and I was beginning to feel the kind of contractions I felt when first put on pitocin with the other two, and, yet, I halfheartedly suggested we take a video clip of us all in the car on our way. Jim grabbed the camera and took a quick clip. The kids were a picture of excitement.
As we drove on our very bumpy roads, the ones that hadn’t been repaved since the 60’s and were scheduled to be repaved next month of all months, I recalled a friend telling me to go to the hospital early because I was going to hate all the bumps in the road during contractions. That, too, would have been good advice to heed. I remember gripping the door handle and the dash a couple times. I told Jim, “Wow, these are really close. Did you time that one?” He got distracted timing the contractions and missed a turn to get to the hospital the quickest. We argued a few seconds over which way to go, and how could he have done that, and he finally admitted, “Well, you distracted me!” Andrew began to whimper in the back as Jim turned the car around. I thought he was scared something was wrong with Mommy, but he cried out, “You mean no we go to the ‘hopsible’ to have Mommy’s baby? We laughed and explained to him that we were still going.
We got to the hospital and walked in with just what we needed for labor and delivery; my bag and the cameras. We got upstairs and I remember not feeling like smiling. The admit nurse greeted me and was ready; knew my history, “You’re the Tami with the four-hour labor and the three-hour labor; we thought you’d be looking worse by the time you got here.” I told her I felt bad enough. As soon as I got in the room, I was feeling pretty helpless. Jim settled the kids on the couch, then he and the nurse were talking, and I just wanted him to help me into my gown quickly.
As soon as I got into the bed, I was in more pain than I had ever had. I was catching my breath and panicking, gripping the bed fiercely. The nurse examined me, and upon examination, jumped in high gear. I was at a 10 she said, and there is a head right there. “Tami, are you feeling a lot of pressure like you need to push?” I really didn’t. My Mom rushed in next. It was a bit past 2:30; maybe 2:40. Mom greeted me, and Jim, noticing my condition, quickly sent the kids out with her. She later commented that she thought I looked comfortable; she hadn’t known how far along I was. I was only in severe pain for about 15 to 20 minutes, as the anesthesiologist was nearby and gave me a spinal promptly.
From 3:00 on, I was feeling good, and so excited. The spinal made me itch intensely, but it completely numbed me. I couldn’t feel the contractions and wasn’t in any hurry to push. If I had been serious about pushing in the beginning, the baby would have came within a few minutes, but, as it was, I got my bearings and had a few practice pushes. My doctor came in and was readying everything. She broke my water, and commented that it was a tough bag of water; that under most circumstances, being at a five for weeks and then laboring to a 10 and not breaking the water is rather rare. Finally, I concentrated for a few more pushes. Our new baby girl was born at 3:37; perfect and sweet.
I would love to do my labor and delivery experiences over and over again if I could. I think I will always long for that again, but as it is, this will be our last. It was quite an exciting time, and a memory I will treasure forever.

"Wordless Wednesday" # 2: Curlers

"Wordless Wednesday" #1: Oh, the Comforts of a Blankie...