I HATE gravity, I didn't want to go to the Olympics anyway, and Three Cheers for Blaine

(in case you are new to the scene and read this post wondering what in the world is going on-refer to the previous post)

I thought everyone could use an update on our situation, but before I dive into the good stuff (i.e. my potential future drug use and subsequent inability to compete in the Olympics, our new family routine, my prospective vacation at the hospital and more) let me offer our sincerest thanks to all of you for the fasting, praying, texting, calling, commenting and support the past few days. When we got the bad news Thursday, it felt like our life got turned upside down and we were drowning in a sense--but thanks to all of you we were able to resurface and realize that we aren't alone and that there is so much to be thankful for. So thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

We met with a high-risk pregnancy specialist yesterday in a town called Marshfield which is about an hour and a half from our home.

GOOD NEWS/BAD NEWS:

Good news--the baby is developing at the correct rate and looks great. There is just enough amniotic fluid left for those tiny little lungs and kidneys to keep going so that's good. I am healthy and infection free and the fact that I've stayed so for a month is promising. We have an amazing medical team behind us to take care of me and this little one should she/he debut soon. (we are waiting to find out what it is like we did with Colton--don't want this little one thinking they get special treatment right?!)

Bad news--I thought I would hit my 24 week mark this week which is sort of the breaking point for survival of a fetus at this point in pregnancy--not so. I measure closer to 22 weeks which means we've got a two week window to meet. Statistically, nothing is in our favor--we won't talk about the chance of me hitting that two week mark (LOW), delivering a baby that can survive (LOW), and that baby not having serious complications (LOW). I have little to no amniotic fluid and any time I spend vertical exacerbates the situation. Curse you GRAVITY!

THE PLAN:

Make it to my 24 week mark (May 10th) by staying on bed-rest 24-7 and drinking A LOT of fluid. If we meet that mark I will be admitted at 10 a.m. Monday morning to St. Joseph's hospital in Marshfield where I will stay until this little one decides to debut. They will immediately put me on steroids for the baby's lungs to develop at an accelerated rate (there goes my shot at the Olympics--up in flames that dream, but hey) and monitor me constantly so everyone is ready for the delivery. Blaine will go back to work, while our Moms take turns coming out to hold down the fort.

OUR NEW ROUTINE:

We're attempting to retain some semblance of normality here, although some things have changed and will be different for a while. My day goes something like this:

Wake up to baby kick, kick, kicking--study scriptures and thank Heavenly Father for one more day. Take a five minute shower, dress and lay back down to comb my hair, brush my teeth, and wait patiently to hear my son's pitter-patter of feet as he climbs the stairs, grabs an oatmeal packet from the kitchen and comes to my bedside requesting 'duice' and 'ohh-milk' (juice & oatmeal). I refer him to his Father because aside from my shower the only other movement I allow myself is a few bathroom breaks wherein I rotate between bedroom and living room (ya know--to switch things up. gotta keep it fresh). We won't talk about Blaine's day--he's turned into the one-man wonder cleaning, cooking, working, and handling everything he used to plus the half I covered. Que. the music, "What a man, what a man, what a mighty good man". All right--that's enough.

So we're hanging in there. We've got our fingers crossed and we're saying our prayers that we find May 10th at the entrance to St. Joseph's with a little one still in tow. We're not thinking about if we don't meet that two week goal or if we do, what could potentially result from our baby coming early. We will cross those bridges when they come.

And the best part is, we won't cross them alone.

Dialing the Grapevine

I don't know how to say this. I am a bit of an introvert and my personal bubble is more like cement than dish soap some days. So believe me when I tell you this is the hardest thing I've ever done but what is happening to our little family is a bit bigger than my pride and privacy issues.

I need you to pray for us. I need you to pray for us because I am 22 weeks pregnant and it looks like I might not get to experience a 23rd week. I know that this is really late to be announcing that we're expecting our second, but for some unexplainable reason I've held back sharing this good news until now. Call it a sixth sense, whatever you will. I'm truly sorry if this hurts or offends anyone.

So here's the story. (it's long and there are some squeamish pregnancy details so be warned if that bothers you.):

About a month ago while we were visiting family in Washington I started leaking uncontrollably. This happened right before we were set to drive over to Seattle to fly out first thing the next morning, so yeah, not great timing. I laid down for an hour, felt fine and got up with the thought that we'd get over to Seattle and if anything changed, we'd adjust our plans and get to an E.R. as my doctor had suggested. That plan went up in flames when I doubled over with pain on my way to the car and so we went to the local E.R. to check it out. After hours of sitting, a full exam and blood work the doctor concluded that the baby was just fine, I was healthy and well but had managed to do a first rate job of peeing my pants. Awesome.

Apparently this does occur, and with my kidney history (another day, another story) this made sense to me so I flew home without a hitch and thanked my lucky stars that all was well. After a checkup with my local clinic they figured that the doctor's conclusions were right and that I could go forward without concern.

Over the next 3 weeks I had three small incidents similar to those in Washington, always in the night during an especially heavy sleep (usually while I dreamed of running water and bathrooms. why do we not deduce better during unconsciousness?) so I chalked it up to incontinence and empathized a little more with the Depends community at large. Yikes!

Fast forward to this Tuesday when Blaine took off for a 3 day business trip to Madison. I am saying goodbye to my visiting teachers out the door and I feel the gush. I run to the bathroom and realize that this time it's a crimson tide. I fall apart for 2 minutes with the gravity of the situation, then pull on my big girl panties and suck it up. I call the doctor, they recommend I do an out-patient visit to the hospital and so I somehow manage to get a purse full of paraphernalia put together to care for Colton and drive myself to the hospital. More sitting again, more tests, an ultrasound later and they conclude that I am okay except that I am experiencing some irritation and inflammation in the nether-regions. (yes, I just said nether regions on my blog, go puke if needs be) The only red flag they see is that measurements from the ultrasound show that I am producing too little amniotic fluid which long term potentially is not good in lung and kidney development for the baby but they will wait until my scheduled ultra sound the 28th before they make any real judgments.

I call Blaine that night, explain that I'm 2 and 0 in the E.R., and that I feel fine aside from the guilt of amassing yet another hefty hospital bill. I am back to normal until last night around midnight when the gush happens again. I figure that this is just a result from the scarring and irritation but then it happens again at 2. And then 2:30, and then 3. Huh?

I call the after hours doctor (bless her heart--she is amazing!) and she bumps up my appointment to first thing this morning and says she'll see me herself to make sure everything is all right. So I sit on the couch from 3:00 on counting down the hours while trying to keep my mind off of the annoying KoolAid faucet I've become as of late.

By quarter to seven I lose my nerve and break down and call Blaine to give him an update, hoping he'll hop in his truck and drive the three hours to hold my hand and pat my back cause I'm not ready for big girl panties (literally, apparently.) Of course, I play the supportive wife and say, "no, no, I've got this. Colt can come along--I'll manage--just do what you need to do for work. I'll call with updates"

Well, this doesn't work for my Superman and wouldn't you know he was on his way and arrived at the clinic just in time to pick me up and dust me off one minute after the doctor explained my uterus is leaking and that we are going to lose this baby. (man what i wouldn't give right now to just be a pants-pee-er)

So here is where we sit. I am still pregnant and there is a perfectly healthy little boy or girl kicking and developing inside of me right now. I am producing amniotic fluid, my body just isn't keeping it in, and there are three directions this can take:

1. I develop an infection in the nether regions (sorry again) and it's game over. They have no choice but to induce because if I get an intrauterine infection that could mean no more babies-- period-- and maybe worse. This would not be an option for me if it was anything less serious because this means we would be choosing to lose a healthy baby.

2. The baby stops developing and can't hang on because of the lack of amniotic fluid.

3. A miracle. As my lovely doctor said, miracles happen. No sense tossing in the towel before the games over. Science doesn't explain everything.

Let me be realistic for a moment. (cause the tenor of this post has been so upbeat, right.)

What is happening to me VERY RARELY EVER occurs. Nothing I did caused this. It's a freak thing that almost never happens. What's even less likely is that when it does occur, the baby survives. Having said that, we know that most likely I am going to be going through labor soon, but that we won't be enjoying this little spirit during this lifetime.

That is a hard thing. I don't think, "why is this happening or did I do something to deserve this?" It just hurts.

And you know, isn't the real miracle knowing that this life isn't the end? That this is further incentive for Blaine and I to live our lives in such a way so as to be worthy of the presence of all our children. These things happen--this is a part of the bargain. Happiness has its counter. I've realized in the past 24 hours that the miracle isn't when God steps in and stops our personal Gethsemane. The miracle is when he brings us through it and we come out on the other side more like Him. So that we can see in the scars of our life the reflection of our Savior's own suffering.

My sweet Mom and Mother-in-law are spreading the word with our families that a special fast is being held this Sunday. Since we consider any one who reads this a part of our life and our family, we are opening the invitation up to anyone who would like to join in. As a personal request from me, if you do decide to take part, please fast for God's will to be done. I want whatever He wants to have happen. Not saying I understand it--but that's the point--I don't understand everything that He does. He's in charge.

Thank you for taking a few minutes out of your busy lives to read this. We love and appreciate your friendship, support and concern. It means the world to us right now.

Love that Smile

There's nothing worse at our house than a cold, rainy day. The Two Year Old would stay outside 24-7 if we let him. Most mornings the first words out of his mouth are 'wide a BIKE!' or 'chalk-walk' (side-walk chalk). And if you happen to go by our house while he is outside be you a jogger, the mailman, or a neighborhood kid you can bet that the Two Year Old will chase you down on his bike to say hello.

The "Easer Bun-EE"

Bonka & Bonka take us Wacin'!

We were lucky enough to share spring break with Blaine's family in Washington and part of our time was spent in Florence, OR camping and riding ATV's. (By the way, we missed you Bryce & Devin! It wasn't the same without you.)

Over the course of our stay, the Two Year Old added a few words to his vocabulary, namely:

"Daddee a Wacin"

(Translation: Daddy is Racing)

______________________________

"Good Yuck"

(Translation: Good Luck)

The Two Year Old with Aunt "Nash" (Janelle-yup, not even close) & Uncle "Deck" (Derek)

_______________________________

The "Wacer"

(Translation: Polaris RZR or any ATV)

__________________________

Dah-win & Da-Shod-ee

(Translation: Dallin & Ashley)

The Two Year Old has been saying Dallin for a while now, but he finally put the right name with the right person. For a while there, Dallin was 'Byce' (Uncle Bryce), Bryce was 'Dah-win', and any other boys in the family were one of the two.

He was quite taken with Dah-win's wife, his Aunt Ashley and decided to give her the more urban chic name, 'Da-Shod-ee'.

____________________________

"Bonka & Bonka/Bonk-ee"

(Translation: Grandma & Grandpa)

Sorry, no pic of Grandma and me this trip. I was too busy on this adventure and was a lazy documenter.

Thanks for the wonderful memories and all that went into this trip Bonka & Bonka!

We Love YOU!

"I Sick"

I was just thinking the other day, "We have not had any sickness at our house for a long time."

Jinx--I might as well have mail-ordered a virus while I was at it.

The Two Year Old announced to us last night , "Momma, I sick. I sick" as we were laying him down in a makeshift bed in our room (I'm too lazy to climb stairs every hour through the night to check on him). He's come down with a yucky head cold and this is sick of me to say but it's kind of nice to have him in a lower energy, higher cuddly state than I typically get with him.

So this is where you'll find the Two Year Old for the next day or two.

Don't worry, it's all good Grandma--miss you!

The Bisquick Debacle

I came down with a serious case of Mommy guilt two nights ago when I reflected on my performance over the past few weeks. I theorize that most moms get this at one time or another. Right?

After wallowing in despair for a few moments, I resurfaced with renewed conviction that I was going to do right by my Two Year Old. Then I passed out for eight hours. . .

I awoke the next morning to the Two Year Old elbowing my head and kicking my ribs. Day One of Mission Impossible has commenced.

I happen across a General Conference talk in my morning studies on anger--decide to be less so, and proceed to make an actual breakfast non-cereal and milk style for my brood for the SECOND day in a row. I check with the Man to make sure that he has noticed. Duly noted.

Fast forward to me post work-out. I hop in the shower (why do all bad things happen while Mom is showering? ominous foreshadowing), and get ready for the day. I stroll into the kitchen to discover the brand new box of bisquick lying on the floor with contents mysteriously MIA. Huh?

Over the river and down the stairs to Colton's room we go (sing it with me). . .

Suspicions confirmed. the Two Year Old's forehead has guilty written all over it--in bisquick powder that is, along with his hands, his feet, and generally his whole person. Lovely.

I try to get mad at the Two Year Old for enhancing his duplo train landscape with bisquick treated terrain and fail miserably. Let him have at it I say--it kept him entertained for a good hour. I'd say that's worth the price of purchase.

Two points for me.

Sending You Some Love

Semi-Stir Crazy

It was easy to fill my first weeks here with unpacking, sorting, organizing, ect. but now I am fresh out of projects and need to fill my time (more importantly, the Two Year Old's) with something before our bout of cabin fever sends us over the edge.

So we set off for the Children's Museum in Downtown Eau Claire. . .

Space Sledding--Totally Canceled

Do you ever have those dreams where you're running as hard as you can but your body is stuck in slow-mo' and there's that panicky racing of your heart that's telling you to kick it in gear. That is the last two weeks for me. My January picture file is empty. I've failed you. Sorry.

We somehow managed to get ourselves moved (ok, we didn't. but the moving company did. great job people.), and get somewhat settled so I've run out of excuses for not updating my blog.

So here's us enjoying our first real weekend since unpacking with a little down hill sledding: the Two Year Old's newest passion (next to his most recent discovery of bread with butter and jam on it--who knew?)


The Man showing The Two Year Old how it is done:

wipeout #1

wipe-out #2

taking a breather

Dallin, the title is for you. (inside joke--sorry, I hate those)

Siberia or Bust!

If you recently talked to us, it is old news that we are packing up (again) and moving to
Siberia.
Ok, not really but close enough. This registers in as our tenth move since our marriage 6 years ago this May(YIKES!): fourth major move including Pasco WA, Gainesville FL, Johnston IA, and now Eau Claire WI with six minor moves between Idaho and Washington during our undergrad years. We were doing the math the other day and we figured that we'll have been in 14 wards, 7 stakes before our first kid is potty-trained. Yes, we are veritable pros at packing--we can load a U-Haul in less time than it takes the Two Year Old to watch a Pixar film (tried and true-believe you and me)

And this is what we've decided.

It is going to be Awesome!

I read the other day that 'right attitudes produce right actions'. This is a new place with new things to see, new people to meet, and new adventures to have. And does it really hurt that I am only an hour from America's biggest mall? I don't think so. . .

We will miss all of our friends here like we do those in places previous, but that is why we have blogs, facebook, and airplanes right? Right.

We look forward to the changes that are happening in our life this year and wish you the best in whatever adventures come your way during 2010!

Christmas 2009

another christmas through. a few highlights from ours (since i am brain-dead and forgot to download all of the pics my Mom took before flying home this is what we have. apologies.):

This kid is just a really good egg. one tough cookie. can i please have those eyes. pretty please!

i coveted this watch and The Man noticed. he has inherited his Father's gift-giving ability.

i opted for the boring, practical route--a man bag for all of his work travels.

an RC car from Grandma & Grandpa Furness. the two-year old would succesfully drive it down the stairs four times before the holidays were over.

apparently the Two Year Old's rule extends across state lines--anything wrapped is for Him.

"TWAC-DOOS!" Uncle Bryce knows where it's at.

'aunt ha-yee' and her new board.

the latest craze in our nursery--Mr. Potato Head's glasses. I know, not his color.

this guy just might be the hardest person ever to shop for. he asked for socks--sheesh! it took us at least 10 minutes to drive to costco and pick these puppies up.

yea, the mustache creeps me out too buddy.

probably the favorite toy all christmas. 'twains'

unwrapping his gift from Great Grandma Calaway with extreme prejudice. he loves it by the way--thank you so much Grandma Jane! We miss you!

Playing outside in the snow.

Taking rides in Grandpa's tractors:

Rides on the four wheeler:

How we all feel now that it is over: