This mama and daddy are pooped. Mega pooped. February has brought some scares and firsts for these new parents one right after the other.
We’ve had a miscarriage scare. Another incident to add to the stress and anxiety of pregnancy after miscarriage. To feel the same symptoms and hear the same words from the doctor that led to your first miscarriage is truly scary, but also very numbing. You sit leaning on your husband’s shoulder at urgent care, fully expecting the worse and just wanting to hear the words so you can go home and grieve in peace. Being so scared to even look at the ultrasound machine. Only to find your husband’s face beaming with joy and the biggest smile since meeting our boys. Confused, you look over to find your little one doing flips on the screen.
Thank you Lord for each day this baby grows inside me. Please keep growing strong little love.
We survived our first ER visit when the baby sustained an injury at day care. This mama rolls in alone to the smallest, most packed waiting room ever with a double stroller, a crying baby, and toddler not sure what’s going on.
I’ve panicked as both boys got their first fevers and bad colds under our care in the last week.
While on bed rest for my and baby’s health, I scrambled an hour before the Valentine’s Day party at school for our toddler to have little Valentine’s to take to school for his friends.
With feverish baby in tow, I drive our toddler to school to find that he’s blown up that diaper in the 10 minute drive from our house, causing us to go home, change, and try again. Of course, we’re running late. I drop him off at another classroom he’s not used to, resulting in crying, screaming, pulling on my pant leg, and full on “don’t leave me, mama” tantrum. Feverish baby still in tow.
His teacher sympathetically says, “When you’re ready, mom, I’ll pick him up and shut the door.” I walk away to the sad sound of my sweet boy crying for me, to find a flyer in his cubby. A mandatory project due this Friday. A baked good representing the book cover of one of Dr. Seuss’ books in honor of his birthday.
Oh. My. Goodness.
So, here I am. Thanking God for every drop in temperature for my baby. And trying not to stress about the days to come.
Steven frequently had moments this month where he just stopped and looked at me and said, “How are we going to do this? How are we going to do all these same things when the third baby arrives?”
“We’re going to figure it out and be just fine, baby. Don’t stress.”
I wouldn’t exchange any of this for the world. It’s hard. It’s stressful. There’s added complexity to our lives with the boys in foster care. But I am sincerely thankful for every moment of being a parent. I’ve wanted this for so long, and I didn’t expect it to be easy. At the end of most days, we look at one another and just smile… “I don’t know how, but we did it. Thank God!” I won’t take a moment of this for granted. I’ll never forget all we pushed through to reach this point, and all we will continue to push through.
Or, the ones who push through with us.
Steven calls his mom at 6am with the unsettlingly words, “I think Ally is having another miscarriage.”
No questions asked. Takes off work for the rest of the week and pauses her life to prioritize ours.
My mother-in-law sat in the car with me in the parking lot of Walgreens as we slapped together Valentine’s cards so quickly it was comical.
I call my in-laws knowing I’d need help with both boys at the ER. My brother-in-law helps this very panicked mama over the phone with finding the closest place to go to. Steven had to work late, but got there as soon as he could. My mother- and father-in-law beat him to it, taking our oldest to hang out with Grandma and Grandpa until little brother was all taken care of. I managed to hold it together until the ride home when I called my mom and cried and yelled the stress out.
We refused to take our baby back to the same day care after his injury, and needed help just a few days until he could start at school with big brother tomorrow. On a last minute request, the boys have enjoyed days and quality time with big cousin Em, Uncle Mikey, and Grandpa. No questions asked. Happy to help. Grandpa even fixed our dishwasher for us! Something Steven hasn’t had the time to get to, and something that will help us tremendously in keeping up with the insane amount of dishes you have when the family doubles in size.
I’ve turned to my mom and sisters for everything. We have a family chat that I’ve blown up in the last couple weeks.
What do I do? What can I do besides give him Tylenol? Does it matter what clothes he wears? Can he wear socks? Can I give him this medicine? Guys, what the heck with this Dr. Seuss project?
All hours of the day, they give me tips and tricks. Send me Pinterest links. Encourage me when I feel like I’m failing miserably. We share what’s going on with all of our kids. I feel so connected to my family even though I’m the only one away.
I’ve called my cousin/the kids’ godmother so upset, stressed, and mad about one thing or another to find a listening ear who lets me scream it out on the phone, and offers the best of advice.
My work family has been more than supportive for all the time off I’ve needed to get through injuries, sickness, and my own health scares.
When you pause in the middle of the madness, look around, and realize how God has blessed you with all the support you could need for the season of life he has brought you. We are so, so thankful. And will never forget how truly blessed we are. Blessed with family who loves and supports us as we figure this all out.
From the bottom of our hearts, thank you to our village. We are so thankful for the help, advice, supplies, and sacrifices on your parts to come be a part of our lives during our sweetest season ever.
And we are so thankful to God for surrounding us with just what we would need before we knew we would need it. Isn’t his love for his children amazing?