36 Weeks Pregante

Have you watched the video yet where the guy reads a bunch of online questions about pregnancy? I laugh until I can't breath every single time. It has over 28 million views, so I hope you're one of those privileged millions to have laughed about it. If not, join us in the cool kids club https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EShUeudtaFg 

The misspelling in today's title is brought to you from said video. 

Oh my. I'm so done. I still have FIVE weeks left. I try not to focus on the negative, but I've done this twice now and I'm terrified of the next few weeks. I know what's ahead. Every day is about a week long. I also remain incredibly bitter about all those women who get to have babies between 38-40 weeks without being induced. I love you in the way that I love all mankind, but I also despise you. Gah. I can't get over it. Can you even imagine what it would be like to have a baby in TWO weeks instead of FIVE? It's about as unrealistic for me as getting crowned the Queen of England. I am pretending I'm not secretly hoping to go into labor on my own before April 1st, but I'm a fool (get it? Cause I'm scheduled to be induced on April Fools Day). It would be SO impractical for me this time around to actually have a baby before my induction date. Sel has a crazy work week the week I'm due and fo sho can't get anytime off that week. He has a blissful week off work starting 04/01. We also live 40 minutes from the hospital and how would I find someone to watch my kids plus another individual to drive me to the hospital? I don't even know what real labor feels like. No one from our family is getting here until then either which makes me crazy for hoping this boy opts out any earlier than 41 weeks. I AM crazy though. I own it. 

My poor kids and family. Lyra was being her typical tornado self yesterday. She colored on the ottoman, took one of my favorite lipsticks and flattened it in an artistic design on the kitchen floor, peed on the bathroom floor then used her clothes and an entire roll of toilet paper to clean it up (props to her for being resourceful and cleaning it up without me asking her to) then scattered ponies and scrabble pieces all over the playroom. This is a typical day for us by the way. Messes are regular occurrences. I was trying to get us to the library for an HOUR while she rampaged. It also always takes us an hour to get out the door no matter what. Lyra is always defiantly ignoring my demands to get ready and Rowan is usually busy fighting someone/something in his mind and has very little idea what's actually going on around him. I asked them to get their shoes on for the eighth time then just started crying when they didn't. I sat on the kitchen floor and let it all out. They were so disturbed. Sweet Rowan started assisting Lyra in her required clean-up and even brought me my tennis shoes and tried to help me put them on. He said he knew it was hard for me to bend over because of big baby brother. I just cried harder while they both tried to sit on my lap and comfort me. My shining knight of a husband found a gift card to Chick-fil-a and let me know I didn't have to make dinner or clean-up after it because we were going out for some gourmet grub. He also did bedtime and rubbed my back. I have the best people. 

My body is falling apart swiftly. I've felt honestly pretty good until this point. I ran a mile this week under ten minutes. I can sort of jog right now, but it's sad. I went to Zumba today and felt awesome for two songs and then wondered for the entire rest of the class how realistically I could fit my body on the locker room benches for a brief nap. Before this week, my skin started falling apart. My hands looked like a 90-year-old woman and then I got this ridiculously annoying (and painful) red mark behind my leg. It was frustratingly confusing. Since we know I have a mild clotting disorder, we weren't sure if the red mark was indicatory of a clot. The placement of it and symptoms were vaguely like one, but since I'm pregnant, it also could have just been pregnancy related. I spent a Friday debating whether I should go in or not. I had some kind other residents look at it during an HOAA event and gathered opinions on whether I should get it checked out. OF COURSE it was the weekend by the time I called the OB office and they told me to go the ER. We only ever have weird medical things happen to us on the weekend. I hated going, but I knew I would regret it if it was a real blood clot. Luckily, it was just some odd bodily failing due to pregnancy. It cleared up after a week and my skin in general is only mildly dry.

I wake up about every hour during the night to roll to the other side or to pee. I get SO tired during the day. I keep falling asleep when I'm supposed to be parenting. I've been  giving myself some slack in the entertainment department and letting the kids watch shows/play games while I nap on the couch. I'm trying to not feel guilty about it by dragging them about when our driveway isn't coated in 8 inches of snow and doing things that make me feel like they are living happy, productive childhoods instead of being enslaved by technology. My mental state struggles near the end of pregnancy. I just cry a whole bunch or get irrationally angry. It's frightening to feel so out of control. My baby maker feels like Stone Cold Steve Austin sucker punched me there about 5 times in a row. I keep getting these 5-10 minute round ligament spasms. I remember having them somewhat with Rowan and idiotically thinking they were Braxton Hicks and believing I was going to be SO good at having a baby from all the practicing my body was doing. Nope. Contractions don't last ten straight minutes or are on one side of your body. I had to pull over today and breathe through the terrible pain. I used to believe I could birth a baby without an epidural, did you know that? I really, really believed I was going to give birth to my first baby without any pain medication. I cry when I stub my toe. I'm a pansy when it comes to pain. 

There are lots of positives to be seen when I can dig myself out of my woe-is-me pit. Sel is a rockstar. He is so mindful of my feelings and never treats me like I'm nuts. He's so gentle and patient and perfect. My kids are so sweet beneath their age-appropriate behavior. They are both SO excited to have another sibling and spend a lot of time talking about him and to him. It's darling and makes me crazy excited to see them both hold him for the first time. Lyra the other day started by kissing my belly, then blowing raspberries on it and laughing, then morphed into cat scratching baby brother, pushing him and growling at him. It's about what I expect for the beginning of their relationship. Rowan just likes to stare at the 3D picture and say "he looks like me!" and kiss my belly and ask if baby bro kissed him back. I always say yes. 

I honestly don't feel THAT bad. Mostly I'm just constantly a little uncomfortable. Sacrificing comfort for the opportunity to have another baby is a super small price to pay ultimately. I'm so grateful I get this chance to be pregnant and have a healthy pregnancy. I am so excited to hold a sweet new baby boy and watch him grow.

The maybe blood clot

Old lady hands

Rowan 4.5

Man, this boy is a sweet one. The other day, I was telling Lyra she was sweet and she said "No! Rowan is sweet" (She has yet to consent in any form that she is sweet despite certainly being so). 

He is just so tender and loving. It almost makes me cry when I think about how much I love his wonderful little self. 

He says at least ten times a day how much he loves me or Sel or Lyra. He loves to proclaim it at random times and random places. Occasionally, Rowan uses it as a tactic to delay bedtime knowing it's hard to get upset at a little boy who "just needed to say I love you one more time". 

Rowan is a perfect little square for his size. 42 pounds and 42 inches (85% for weight and height). It seems appropriate since Rowan is very particular about having things match and be in their proper order. He's pretty thrilled that another boy will be joining the family so he can "match boys". He is growing so much physically. I can hardly keep shoes on the kid and it bothers him so much. Rowan likes a certain order to his life (like most of us) and hates when shoes that he wears everyday all of a sudden don't fit. I have to secretly hide the ones he's outgrown or he loses his mind and tries to stuff those monstrous feet of his into his old shoes. 

Things Rowan loves: eating his packed lunch at school and finishing it before his best friend, video games of all kinds, chocolate, water books, mazes and puzzles, I-spy books, Hidden Pictures, and Where's Waldo (we have to read one every single night), bell peppers (he recently told me this is his favorite vegetable because it has crispy water in it), being obedient and praised for it, helping with things and feeling helpful. I am impressed daily with how obedient he is. He has his days where he is extra tired, hungry or whatever and struggles, but for the most part, he is a really good listener. Rowan talks in extensive detail about things which can make it hard for him to get everything out that he wants to or makes it hard for people to stay focused enough to get to the end of his drawn out explanation. WOW! The imagination on this kid too. He could go on endlessly about made-up fights and battles and all sorts of made-up creatures who are "bad guys". He loves his teacher, his friends at school, and board games. Rowan loves spiking his hair recently because a girl in his class told him it was cool. Rowan is a snow addict. He could play out there until he got frostbite and not care at all. He's always been an outside lover and the cold weather hasn't changed that for him. He's really into writing his own name lately, figuring out addition, and what words rhyme. Rowan still astounds me with his physical abilities and is a natural born athlete. He has transitioned beautifully to the Come, Follow Me program. His favorite part of the day is "FHE" because we try to do a little something for it everyday. I think he just really thrives on the family togetherness time, the spirit it brings, and the promise of an activity together each time we do it. He has memorized a few scriptures so far this year and is SO ready to tell them to you. We try and learn some on the way to preschool every morning and he only ever wants to say the ones he already has memorized instead of learning new ones. 

Things Rowan Hates: He says he doesn't like going to school, but is happy pretty much everyday after school, he hates when Lyra grabs pieces of a board game he is playing, he despises being sticky, wet or messy. He refuses to eat soup because it makes him too messy (sigh, it's only the favorite meal of 1/2 of our family), losing games, having to wash his hands, being bad at anything. If he can't master it the first time, it's really hard to convince him he might still like it with practice. He played basketball this last season and didn't want to go back after his first game because he couldn't dribble very well. Luckily, he got talked in to going back and improved like we told him he would. 

The thing most special to me about Rowan is how inherently good he is. I haven't had to do much to teach him how to share, how to be gentle and sweet with his sister, how to be as incredibly thoughtful as he is, or how to be so discerning of other people's emotions. He just came as this incredible little person who I want to be like. He captures for me what Christ meant when he said "be ye like a little child".

He loves matching his dad

Leading his sister in breakfast shenanigans 

Hiking with Papa

He loved climbing to THE very top of all this jungle gyms by my parents house

Rowan told me I was a liar when I took them to frozen yogurt  because he said it was ice-cream 

The boy who could live outside 

Lyra 2.5

Lyra at two and a half is best described as an adorable wild animal. She is hysterical! I find it so hard to not laugh when I should be disciplining because she disobeys in such a comedic way. The other day, I watched her dig in my diaper bag, grab out a snack and then scurry quickly to the back of the van so I couldn't snatch it away from her. She loves to find hiding places to watch everyone from.

She's a light little thing. Picking her up is not hard. I distinctly remember how hard it was to heft Rowan while pregnant, but she's luckily not. I was a little surprised at her most recent wellness check that she was in the 25% for weight. Both of my kids started so high in the percentiles as babies and then slowly dropped each appointment. She was in the 70% for height which is just slightly down from what she was at her 2-year-old appointment. She's officially potty-trained! We did a very slow transition to it. Lyra has such an opposite personality to Rowan in regards to potty-training. Rowan decided he wasn't going to wear diapers anymore a little after his 2nd birthday and would LOSE it if he ever had an accident. Lyra, however, would pee or poop in her underwear and care 0%. She'd say "I peed Mommy!" and throw her dirty pants on the ground and walk away. She would do amazing for awhile and then have three days in a row of accidents. We traveled for the holidays and she just 100% figured it out. I haven't done really much at all in the way of training with either of them. I just sort of let them figure it out themselves which is probably why it was ineffective with Lyra. I'm just grateful she figured it out before the new baby comes. She even wipes efficiently all by herself and loves to wash her hands.

Her favorite things: getting chased, tackling/teasing/attacking Rowan (who responds so amazingly to it and almost seems to like her poking him 24/7), eating straight butter and sugar, peas, green apples, cheese, bananas (but only as a delay to bedtime tactic), frozen berries, green smoothies, avocados anything pink or purple, purses, dolls, ponies, MAKE-UP. Gahhh. She is so obsessed with make-up. She has destroyed countless things of lipstick, blush and eyeshadow. She has an innate sense of fashion and accessorizing. It's always funny to me because I really don't wear much jewelry, never wear heels, don't have a purse, or wear much more than mascara. Yet, my daughter has a full knowledge of what it means to put on the Ritz. I'm not sure how she learned it all, (Probably Sel ;) ) but I love it. It's so fun to see her find such joy in being a girly girl. She loves to help in the kitchen and is quite the sous chef. I love when she drags her stool over to the counter and asks to help making food. Rowan used to love this too and has since lost interest. She swooped in to fill his gap. Playdough! Oh how she loves playdough. Lyra is most content when drawing, painting, coloring, etc. She just loves to sit there and create things. It makes her so easy to entertain. At least it does, until she demands I am the one who should draw every member of her extended family with the appropriate accessories. She also always wants me to make crazy things with playdough that my artistically lacking self never could. Lyra's favorite show is...watching people open presents on YouTube. It's so dumb and I hate that I let her watch it. Her favorite is one where this guy opens playdough. She's learning so much (eye roll). She adores taking long, hot showers after swimming at the gym. She often takes a 15-20 minute shower before I cut her off. Lyra calls going to the gym her "school" and refers to all the childcare workers as teacher. She's SO eager to go to school. I luckily got her into one that starts in the Fall and I can hardly wait to watch her zoom out of the car with her backpack. Rowan, on the other hand, has informed me he would like to not go to school anymore after this year. He was pretty overwhelmed at the idea that his dad just finished going to school less than two years ago and that he would spend the majority of the next two decades going to school.

Things she hates: being told she can't stick her hand down my shirt, sleeping in her own bed the whole night, soda, keeping things in their proper place, not being able to go to pre-school with Rowan,

Cute things she says/does: 'Yesserday" means anything in the past tense, when she first wakes up she'll give me a kiss and say " I love you mom! You're my best friend. And daddy is my best friend. And Mimi is my best friend and Papa is my best friend, etc" It's adorbs. She'll grab my face and go "you cute, cute cute mommy" in this high-pitched voice. She'll say something is cute if it's tiny. We've been watching Pokemon lately and she loves to say "PIIIKKAAAA CHOOOOO". She loves to sing still and does a surprisingly good job remembering lyrics and getting the right tune. Lyra loves hair and doing other people's hair. Her favorite is to pretend she's the evil mother from Tangled and, while brushing my hair, tell me it's too dangerous to go outside. She is an ACTRESS. Born for the stage. We did a nativity pageant with my extended family over Christmas and she took it SO seriously. People were laughing at one point and she said "Stop! Issnot funny!" while making her most regal, serious face in her portrayal of Mary.

I love parenting Lyra. She's incredibly sweet, the funniest girl on the block, and beautiful in absolutely every sense of the word. We are pretty lucky that she's our girl

Wearing her new dress-up dress and coloring 

She made playdough earrings at church one day and did her nails with playdough too 

Wasn't our photographer AMAZING?! She managed to catch so much of who are kids are in such a short amount of time. AND it was freezing cold and they were not cooperative for a giant chunk of it. 

We stayed home today from pre-school and "gym" school. The kids wanted to be ninja turtles so I painted their faces and Lyra was so funny looking at her face on the camera 

Her personality in a nutshell. All the accessories, high heels, a princess dress, toys stuffed in a purse and playing with dollies

Being cute and goofy with her aunt 

Baby #3 30 Weeks

Here we are a few weeks in to the third trimester and about 3-million-years from having another baby. The weeks are flying by, but I know how loooong it gets over the next few months. 

I have been extraordinarily blessed to have very easy pregnancies. That being said, pregnancy is not easy. You have to learn to cope with a daily dose of feeling generally uncomfortable/ not yourself. Bending over is already starting to feel a bit like a chore and my forever pregnancy plague of pants not fitting is happening this time around too. I just want my pants to not slide down to my knees 24/7. You'd think pants falling off would be a sign of slimness, but nay, it is a sign of a rounding belly pushing pant material down with absolutely no resistance from my behind. Belly bands are helpful, but not 100% reliable.

I do feel pretty great at this current stage. I've been able to keep a higher level of fitness than my previous pregnancies, but I've started to get pretty sore in my back if I run too hard. I want to keep running throughout the next 10 weeks since it's such an endorphin high, but I probably need to get realistic about what amount of pain I want to deal with afterward.  The gym has been such a blessing. Being active during pregnancy has never been an issue. If anything, I've been more motivated during it than other times in my life. Now knowing that I have a clotting disorder, I attribute that inner push I"ve had. The post-partum period is really where it hits me hard. I'm so tired, sneaking in working out around a newborn sleeping/other kids schedules (and choosing not to nap instead) is nearly impossible, my body feels awful, my brain is broken...Pregnancy is a good time, but the post-partum is not nearly as nice to me.

Rowan and Lyra have been really sweet to baby bruva. Rowan talks plenty about all the games he will be playing with his brother and Lyra talks a lot about giving him milky and changing his yucky bum. I'm so excited to see them be siblings to this new baby! They both fought over who got to read him a book this morning.

This boy is calm and quiet. I only feel him really at nighttime. He's not super active which always makes me a little nervous. I'm hopeful it will be an indicator of his personality being a peaceful one (instead of someone who only wants to be awake at night).

Baby Boy #2

I haven't really talked about this pregnancy much even within close circles. It started off really confusing and stressful. It came at an ironic time too. We had just talked the night before I took a pregnancy test about seeing a fertility specialist. My cycle had been irregular for months (it had never gotten back to normal since having Lyra) and I was getting frustrated not knowing when or if to take a pregnancy test. I had a big bulk amazon pack I'd been taking for the last year and had decided to stop having them in the house for awhile. After two months of not taking any, I ordered more and had forgotten I had when it was delivered. I was watching a friend's kids and decided to just take one because that's all I ever do with my life. I threw it in the trash once I saw it was negative. While washing my hands, I glanced indifferently over at the trash. I wasn't angry or bitter that it was negative, I just knew to expect it by this point. Two dark lines were clearly showing up on the test in the trash. I took it out and stared at it for a moment. All the kids exploded outside the door and I went to put out the fire. With both Lyra and Rowan, I remember crying with joy and being overwhelmed with happiness when I first saw the positive. This time, I felt none of that. I just felt confused. I had just got out all my feelings about not being pregnant and now I was. I wasn't bursting to tell people like I had before. I wasn't even sure if I was going to tell Sel because we were seeing things so differently already about whether to seek extra help to get pregnant. 

The next week was miserable. I got an infection in my finger that required a month of antibiotics (and I'm allergic to the only100% safe antibiotic to take while pregnant), a good stretch of high fevers, and  I felt legitimately afraid I might die. I'm a natural worrier, but I had looked up stuff online about the way my infection was spreading and everyone in the medical field I talked to would creep me out by saying "That's really scary. Get to the E.R." I was worried and being excited about being pregnant was low on my list. I knew if the baby did make it, it could have complications from the medicine I was taking, my infection, the high fever. It was terrible. 

I had called my OB office a few days after finding out and my last period would have placed me about 8 weeks pregnant when I took the test. After my infection quieted down, I went in for my first ultrasound. It was just a black circle with no heartbeat. The technician kept asking me over and over again when my last period was then getting quiet. I told her things had been irregular and I'd told them I had no idea how far along I was. She finally stopped doing the ultrasound and told me not to get my hopes up. My OB gave me a similar sentiment, dating me about 6 weeks along and sent me home for a month to play the mental game of "Is this an alive baby or a blighted ovum? Am I going to miscarry today?" Every symptom I had of nausea could easily mean I just had a blighted ovum since your HCG still rises, but your baby isn't growing. With our other two, I would chatter endlessly about the future and planning for the next few months before their arrival. This time, I had to preface every comment about the future with "If this is actually a baby..." It was a month of sickly-tinged agony. 

When I went back in a month later, my friend who I had told about the situation sweetly watched my kids in case it went poorly. I cried in the bathroom before the ultrasound praying that I would have the strength to accept whatever outcome. At least I would be able to move past this in-between stage and either mourn or celebrate. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw our little baby wiggling around with a strong heartbeat. He/She was doing crunches which Sel and I agreed is going to be vital to it's survival with Lyra as an older sister. I was elated. I texted Sel saying the baby was a baby and alive and well. I was SO happy! As the day passed, the happiness was still there, but it wasn't as marked still as our other two had been. The feelings from the last year and the last few weeks hung over me. I felt better talking about it a little bit over the next month, but still didn't want to tell many people.

 My SIL had done this mail order blood test with their fourth and I had decided when I found out I was pregnant to take the same thing. You have to be 9 weeks to send it in and I took it as soon as I reached that mark. It was a gory mess. You have to prick your finger and massage the blood into a vial. Blood spurted everywhere but in the vial. I kept having to prick my finger and just couldn't get in the direction it needed to go. It can be easily contaminated by anyone with a Y chromosome being around and Rowan kept trying to be by me. When he saw the blood, he wanted to give me a hug. "Here mom! It's okay! I'll get you a bandaid!" Haha it was a disaster. I got the results by the end of the week and it said BOY! We told both of our families and I was thrilled! I then started looking up online about whether other people had accurate results. Turns out, most reported about a 50% correct rate...which is the same as guessing. They return your money if it's wrong, but they were very much not acclaimed as being right. Either they guessed right or they are what they say they are! We are thrilled to have another baby boy 💙 I would have been happy with either one and feel so grateful for this seeet little guy!

Weeks 8-13 were full of constant nausea. I still feel lucky in my pregnancies since I'm not that death sick some poor woman are. I just feel irritable about eating. I would make a big fuss about wanting some type of food and then as soon as it was prepared or in our house, I would be repulsed by it. We had a lot of food go to waste that month. I had lost about 10 pounds with my first two babies in the first trimester, but I only lost about 5 lbs this time (and I needed that -10lb buffer more this time ;) I've gotten so good at eating through the pain because I'm just gifted. 

Despite how hard it started out, I have so much to be grateful for. With Rowan and Lyra, I would pass out at 8pm every night and could hardly keep my eyes open during the day. This time, I felt normal.  I think I've just adjusted to being tired most of the time. The past few months have really fortified my testimony and brought me closer to the Lord. I've felt love and strength in powerful ways. Now that I'm past the first trimester, I feel pretty spectacular 24-7. I get to exercise 5-6 times a week AND shower. Disney's claim to be the happiest place on Earth is false advertising since the title more accurately belongs to my local YMCA. I was afraid I would never reach a stage of being as excited as I am now and am eternally grateful for my mounting excitement and love of this baby.

Undecided and Untitled

I have used this as a space before to throw out feelings. It's been awhile though since time is a rare and precious commodity lately. It's mostly been a vehicle for occasional family journaling.

I don't really know how to start this since I barely know how to talk about it. I've always been better at writing though than talking and it's therapeutic for me to do it in a public way too. 

We've been trying to get pregnant for over a year. It's been a really difficult time for me. Mike has been understanding and tried to help, but we think about it so differently. He can go weeks without thinking about when or if we will have another, while it's something I hardly get to escape a day without thinking of. 

The hardest part of all has been how isolating it's been. I feel ridiculous talking to people who've tried for years to have children and suffered with primary infertility. Their pain and journey is simply different than my own. I've felt the push back from those who have gone through it when they know I have two kids who we easily had with zero months of trying and zero complications. They don't want to talk about how sad I am when they feel they would be so happy in my shoes. There are many who don't understand why I can't "just be grateful" for the two I have. I hate this phrasing because it implies by wanting another I somehow must not be grateful enough for the ones I do have. Of course I'm grateful for them. I adore them. I'm obsessed with them. I breathe for them. 95% of who I am on a day-to-day basis is purely to be their mother. I think because I know how wonderful they are is why I ache for another. I already know how incredible it is to see a personality blossom from infancy to toddlerhood. I already know how precious the time is with little ones and how quickly it is gone. I long for that next flavor because I taste how sweet having kids is everyday. I am so undeniable and continually grateful. 

Many have tried to slip me the "It's all part of the plan" lines. These are worst of all because I know they are coming from a place of personal peace for the giver of the phrase. They've likely looked back at their lives and seen a thread of foreknowledge and divinity. I do not deny in the slightest that God is completely aware of me and involved in my life. I believe that He is present and part of my day-to-day living. I do not believe he intentionally causes things to not happen or to happen that cause pain. I don't think he has chosen not to give us another child to teach me a lesson. I think THE lesson is that we came to Earth to learn and that comes through sorrow, disappointment, hope, death, faith, and life. How that pain comes doesn't feel tailor made for me. I strongly believe He wasn't responsible for various pain in my life. I don't think Heavenly Father leaves a woman infertile for ten years to teach her something that someone who gets pregnant from simply breathing by a man somehow already knew. I think he prepared both of those women he loves for those potential life outcomes. I'm sure as anyone looks back over their lives they see how present God was for every detail.  It's just really hard for me to match the all loving God I know with someone who supposedly picks trials for seemingly unknown and arbitrary reasons that will reveal themselves in the future for people to go through ( or who die through). I could go on and on about this, but I'll just leave this piece where it is. I don't think we haven't been able to get pregnant because God wants us to. I don't think he realized I was going to learn some important lesson by being denied this hope. MY plan to follow HIS plan is to believe that He is, love Him, and realize He is not to blame for my hardships. 

Many don't understand my "rush" to have another. It's been such a roller-coaster with being able to conceive Lyra while nursing Rowan and relatively quickly too. I saw and see so many blessings that come from our two being two years apart. I don't think there is a magic age that spells close sibling relationships and harmony. Mike and I discuss this topic endlessly to his dismay. I love my sister and am so grateful for her. That same reason made me long to have her in school with me more. Other than our limited years in elementary school together, we were never in the same school at the same time. I want my kids to have a sibling around if they want them. I'm sure there will be things they hate about it, but it could be a wonderful thing too. What Mike and I both usually settle on is that we can't predict what will happen with any age gap or gender and how that will play out with sibling relationships. Whether it's been wonderful or awful for others to have longer than a three year gap between their kids doesn't really change how it isn't the way I hoped it would go. Of course great things can come in all situations if you know how to see them. 

I often feel like I can't be justified in my pain. It's often downplayed or it's something I don't even want to discuss. I don't want people to know that I am somehow deficient or failing when it seems so easy for others. I can sense the pity from the few I have talked about it with and it makes me feel worse. I have one friend who has been such a rock for me through this and has been empathetic, intuitive and understanding. She seems to always know when to text me or check in on my feelings about it. I don't really blame anyone for asking when or if we will have another. Or for feeling bad for me. I just truly hate talking about it, but yet feel this crippling need to talk to someone, anyone who can understand. 

It's such a confusing box to be in. Another factor is that up until recently (and still occasionally) Lyra was nursing. Somehow nursing stopped my cycle from coming back until 18.5 months this time. It still hasn't become regular and has made it feel impossible to truly feel like we are "trying" when there isn't much to go off of. The general standard of seeking fertility help is after a year, but since I was nursing during that, I'm also not technically classified as having tried for a year. Why didn't I just stop to try and become pregnant? Good question. It's because Lyra was nowhere near ready to stop. At all. She was a wreck all day, everyday when I tried to par it down. I did various stints of weaning days for months. It mostly resulted in tears from both of us and frustration that it wasn't doing much. I 've been in denial as someone who got pregnant easily while nursing that this had to be completely eliminated. Everything out there will tell you it isn't really necessary in almost all cases to wean to get pregnant, particularly past 18 months of nursing. Some will tell you there is a very rare woman that needs to do this and that person is apparently me. This piece has been the hardest to talk about since it's another base for dismissal. I'm not infertile and it's been my choice to not get pregnant by continuing to nurse. If I really cared so much about it, I should have stopped. I just couldn't. I couldn't let go of the baby in my arms in hopes I would get magically pregnant that month. Mike tends to see the bright and shiny hope while I tend to see all the dark outcomes. Weaning felt so much like cutting off my baby without the assurance I would ever nurse one again. We are pretty much there with completely weaning (much to Lyra's dismay). 

I joined a secondary infertility group on facebook that was really helping for awhile. This last week a girl posted that she felt those who had been trying less than two years shouldn't be a part of the group because she'd been trying for four years for their third child. It was like the only tiny slice of understanding I was getting closed with an icy middle-finger. Another knock that I should truly get over myself since others have/had it worse. I know others have it worse. I know others spend YEARS trying to conceive with months upon months of disappointment, grief, and pain.   I know people spend thousands of dollars trying to get pregnant, dealing with medications and complications, miscarriages and stillbirths. Trying to get children for so many is just not remotely easy. 

Knowing others have it worse does nothing to make me feel better. It just makes me feel like a bad person for feeling badly when others feel worse. 

I do have hope and faith in the future and all I really wanted from this was to feel heard. To feel like the computer wouldn't wonder what was wrong with me and my body or think I am being irrational for feeling this way. It feels good to get to the end of the page even if I'm not much closer to being "over it". 

Rowan is F O U R

How did this happen? How did four years race by so quickly? 

Oh how that sweet baby become such a sweet child! Rowan continues to have such a tender, loving heart. He is thoughtful and selfless naturally. He is such a good first to our family because he set such a kind tone. 

He still gets angry and has his rage fits (just as he has since he was 8 weeks old), but they usually can be directed back to hunger, exhaustion, or general frustration at being misunderstood. The other day when I asked him why he was so angry, he said it was b

ecause I was paying attention to Daddy and Lyra, but not him. It broke my heart a little bit, but I was also pretty amazed a four-year-old was able to discern AND verbalize to me what was causing him to act out. His expression has been such a gift to us in so many ways. He has lots of feelings inside that tiny body and it helps that he's able to tell us about most of them.

He's a wonderful big brother still. He puts up with her tackling and general younger-sibling-bantering incredibly well. They get along mostly because he is easy-going. Row will get annoyed with her sometimes, particularly now that she can sneak in there and wake him up. For the most part, he wants her to play with him and spend time with him (which she most certainly is all about). 

He will be going to an everyday preschool starting the beginning of August. I'm excited for him, but also a little heartbroken. I love having him around and it will be so strange to have him gone for half the day. My greatest hope is loves school and learning. 

Rowan doesn't love social settings. Anything involving more than 1-2 friends is rough for him. The gym daycare and church tend to be his biggest struggles. We discovered if we send him with some maze or hidden picture books to the gym, he'll go without too much fuss. Church is still a struggle, but I'm hopeful that will change soon. A big contrast between my two children and their response to being around people was properly displayed last week. We showed up to the gym and saw that some kids were playing on the outdoor playset for the daycare. Lyra rushed to the fence shouting "FRIENDS!" and successfully started scaling the fence. Rowan sulked in the van still asking if he really had to go. My persuasion was going nowhere and he kept trying to bargain how long I would workout for. "How about 3 minutes mom?"

Me: "Sorry buddy. Longer than that. "

Row: "Fine! No minutes mom. You either get to pick no minutes or no minutes!"

I'm hoping preschool will help him with his dislike of being around groups. I don't particularly care for them myself, but I mostly cope with them without throwing things or ripping things. ;)

He LOVES video games. Loves them. He could play the Switch and our Wii all day if I let him. I feel like lately it fries his brain more than normal. He used to be excellent at stopping and acting normally afterward, but he gets more upset now. He is crazy active when he plays which I think is part of the reason he gets to upset. He sweats buckets and gets dehydrated from his video game jigging. It's the major benefit from letting him play because he just jumps and punches like a peppy aerobic instructor. 

He takes such pride in helping. Someone told me they try not to overpraise their kids which will undoubtedly be a fault of mine (is this truly a thing? Too much praise?). Rowan just BEAMS when we tell him he did a good job with something. It makes him want to help more and in other ways. He is such a good kid!

He is obsessed with green. Everything green makes him happy. If he sees a green car or house while driving, he'll yell (loudly and frighteningly sometimes). MOM! IT's A GREEN CAR/HOUSE! 

He has such a sweet budding faith. He has a cut on his finger and some new skin was at the edges and got pulled a little. Rowan let me know it was just Heavenly Father trying to figure out how to fix his finger for him. He'll encourage us to say prayers about things I rarely think about (like helping our garden grow, or not being tired, or being able to play games all day ;) ) 

Ninja turtles and power rangers are the coolest things around. Raph is the coolest turtle and Michaelangelo is hilarious. 

His imaginative play is still out the roof. Row has such a mind on him. He is more creative and clever than I often realize. I love overhearing him play with his toys and the worlds he creates with simple objects. 

He is so smart! We had him evaluated before pre-school and the evaluator said he was one of the top scoring kids in our district. He catches on quickly to things and does have that perfect child-like interest in something new. He's recently been really interested in learning different words in Spanish and thinks it's really fun to try and say words in his own made-up language. Ba-ba is a word used frequently when he feels uncomfortable. It's a little annoying, but I know he just doesn't know how to respond when he uses it. 

I could look at him all day. This love I feel for Rowan is just so consuming. He makes all of us better and is truly a gift. I appreciate every minute with him (even if he's throwing a fit) because it means he's all mine. My own. My precious. (said in my coolest Gollum voice). 

Thank you for being ours Rowboat! We love you!