In lieu of a Christmas tree...

As the Christmas season begins, our hearts are overflowing with the blessings this past year has brought us.

This evening when Justin got home from work, we loaded the kids in the car and headed to the Christmas tree farm. One kid was throwing a hyperventilating fit because he's probably teething, and the other one was screaming because she was out of crackers - and because she's two. Apparently they have a saying about two year olds.

Everyone was in, buckled, and semi-contained when, about a mile down the road, we realized the Christmas Tree farm closed at 5. It was 5:15. We turned around and Ellery asked, "What you doing, mommy?"

"We're going back home," I said sorrowfully. 

Insert another tantrum here. 

All day we had talked about Christmas trees and how much fun we were going to have cutting one down when daddy got home. Now I tell her we aren't getting one today. 

When we got home with a very disappointed toddler asking for a Christmas tree, Justin went to the backyard and cut down something resembling a very large twig. He brought it inside and called it a Christmas tree. She didn't know the difference. To her, it was a Christmas tree.

He hurredly draped some colored lights on it and plugged it in. Ellery's face lit up with pure delight, and my heart melted. 

Innocence. I was reminded of innocence.

Each year, we usually spend about $50 on a Christmas tree. We spend money on decorations and festivities and unnecessary gifts. We find great joy in all of these things, yet we sometimes fail to let the true reason for the season envelope our hearts, inspiring us to think more about others than we do ourselves. 

As we stood in awe of how such a simple  branch could be transformed into something so incredible, we had an idea. 

An idea that I really love. 

We aren't going to buy a Christmas tree this year. Instead of spending that money on something that will pass away as quickly as it came, we want to donate it to a good cause. 

Our hearts have not been led in any particular way yet, as far as where our donation will be going, but we are prayerful that the right opportunity will be opened to us. 

Though it is no great sum of money that we are planning to give, we are excited about this opportunity the Lord has laid upon our hearts, an opportunity born of a very hectic afternoon. Perhaps in the simple act of comforting a disappointed toddler, the seeds have been sown for a new family tradition. Isn't our God good?

Thankful.

Today I want to revisit thankfulness.

Thankfulness in the sense that, even when things are going wrong (for what seems like constantly), we remember how much we have already been given. 

I am human, I am just like you. I sometimes ask the question, "why" and maybe feel a little sorry for myself. My husband has even seen me throw a hyperventilating fit from time to time. 

That's me.

It's crazy how we can so easily get sucked into the "but that's not what I had planned" phenomenon and use that as an excuse to just sit and wallow in our own self pity. 

But you know what? That's the easy way out. That's the way for the cowardly!

And I choose not to be a coward. 

I choose to trust that my plans aren't the best for me anyway, and whatever God has in store for our family will be far more fulfilling than the uneventful, perfectly polished picture I once had of our future. 

Thankful. Today I am thankful.

I am thankful for my husband who lets me hyperventilate. 

I am thankful for my (very close to) two year old, and her spunky, independent personality. 

And I am thankful for Elam and how he continuously shows me how to see past imperfection, and teaches me to embrace it. 

Things haven't been necessarily easy for us lately, in regards to Elam's health. A few weeks ago tests showed we needed to start cathing him four times a day. We half expected this, but it still stung our hearts a little. 

Since then, he has had several reactions to several things, a UTI, and a strabismus diagnosis. All of which, in the big scheme of things, and a few years down the road, don't mean much, but in the here and now, it is a little stressful. 

Although life is chaotic, we've got it pretty good. I choose to remember that today, and not take this time for granted. 

Ellery says...

Ellery and I like to make the time for daily dance sessions in our living room. I am not sure if you can really call it dancing, since we just jump up and down with our hands above our head. But nevertheless, we dance and have fun.

Today, while Elam had some tummy time, and Ellery and I were giving him entertainment, Ellery loudly proclaims, "S-op! Kiss Eyum bwake (break)!" And runs over to him to kiss him on the head. And then returns to dancing. 

She is only slightly obsessed with her little brother. 

Grace and second chances.

Last night, as I reached for the light switch to end the day, the anxious calling of Elam's wakefulness paused my intentions and guided me to his room.

As I stood over him, pondering the best course of action to help ease him back into sleep, a sense came over me urging me to cherish it - cherishing his need for me. 

So, in the soft glow of the nursery night light, my feet shuffled to keep rhythm with the sound machine and I let myself cherish our dance. The dance, as mothers, we are only given for a moment in time. 

As we swayed in the peacefulness, I was suddenly thankful for sleepless nights. Thankful for baby cries and their need for their mothers. 

My role as a mom is one I could never fully understand until I became one. The love and exhaustion that radiates from your every being is powerful. 

Powerful - and terrifying. Terrifying in a sense that this job of mothering is all about example. 

It is easy when toddlers are being angelic and infants are smiling - but when patience is all used up and grace ran out thirty minutes ago, my role becomes vital as little eyes are watching and copying every move. 

As time slips by, I am slowly learning to catch each moment that I can and enjoy the neediness. For in their need lies the opportunity to teach and to lead by example. 

As I teach Life to these sweet children, and strive to give grace and forgiveness, I am humbled by the example our Father set before us. Grace sufficient has been given to me, although I am far undeserving. Knowing that, shouldn't  I be able to see my own children's need for free and unmerited favor and fulfill it with patience and second chances?

It isn't always easy, but I believe it is something that is more important than my human brain can fully comprehend. Being able to lead my children with the example of gentleness and patience, giving them grace when there seems to be none left, is my prayer and the aching of my heart. 

Potty time!

We have clapped and praised and fully supported the dinosaur sticker manufacturer this week.

And I think our big girl has officially outgrown her title of 'Little'. 

Since Sunday evening, Ellery has been using the potty all on her own, and has only used diapers for nighttime! 

To give credit where it is due, she pretty much potty trained herself. For when I took her diaper off on Sunday, she just started using the potty, and hasn't stopped. 

She likes to show me what she's done.  She likes to cheer, "Yay! Eh-rey did it!". And she likes Dinosaur stickers!

Ellery says.

As Ellery and I were in the kitchen eating lunch today, Elam started to wake up from his nap (on the floor in the living room.)

Ellery, being the problem solver that she is, hurriedly got down from her chair, ran in and squated down beside him, "Feed Eyum!" she said, as she tried her best to pick him up.

I asked her, "You want me to feed Elam?" 

She responded:

"No! E-ry feed him!" And starts lifting up her shirt to point to her belly button. 

Oh, toddlers. 

Focus

"In the midst of all the noise and chaos in our lives, we need to take the time to listen to the music. Sometimes we lose focus of what's important because we focus only on our problems." 

Today we chose to focus on baby smiles and eye contact.

Free legs and chubby feet. 

Cooing and laughing.

And lots of loving. 

And it's been perfect. 

 

Finding Perspective

Each and every day I am reminded in all kinds of ways to be thankful for the man I married a little over three years ago. 

I am often thankful for the seemingly simple things: he loads the dishwasher. He mows the grass. He often lets me complain just for the sake of complaining. 

But today, I was reminded of all the ways God made this man just for me. 

The truth is, I have been struggling with finding the right perspective lately. Seeing joy in the small things, in the sleepless nights and the poopy diapers. I have been finding myself too focused on the future, and all of its uncertainty, to be able to truly stop and thank God for the blessings He has already provided. 

And sweet husband called me out on it. 

After giving me a big hug, leaving love notes around the house, and telling me to go on to bed - at 9 pm- he asked me one question: 

Is there ever going to be a time where you are just thankful for him?

I was left speechless, and winded, almost as if he had hit me with a ton of bricks. 

Initially I was angry at him for questioning the overwheing love I have for my sweet Elam. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized his question wasn't completely unfounded. 

I can write flowery words on a page and I can tell anyone who asks how blessed we are to have him, and I truly feel that way, but within the walls our home and my heart, my selfish soul gets worried. 

Worried about his mental state. Worried about who he is going to be. Worried if he'll be happy. And worried if we will be happy. 

And the answer is:

Elam is going to be exactly who he is going to be. He will develop in his own way. He will do his own things. But he will only be happy, if we are happy. 

"Before I formed you in your mother's womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I chose you." Jeremiah 1:5

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares The Lord." Jeremiah 29:11

God has a plan for us, for Elam. He always has, and it is in all things we are to give thanks. As we choose not to forget all of the times we have seen His face ever so clearly and felt his arms wrap us in strength, let us be thankful. Thankful for this precious gift of life. For the sleepless nights and the poopy diapers. For these are signs of answered prayers. 

And it was Justin who helped me remember. 

So, here's to the man who takes crying babies from this frustrated momma. To a man who washes cloth diapers and remembers to hang dry the covers. He does Ellery's bedtime every. single. night.  and has never once complained about it. 

But more importantly, here's to a husband who isn't afraid to punch me in the gut (figuratively, of course) from time to time for the benefit of our family and our relationship with Christ. 

New Orleans and Us.

As we settle back into our routine, this week has been a whirlwind. I have been meaning to update the blog, but it has been one thing after another, making it hard to know where to start.

Sunday our family of four made our way to New Orleans. We went to church early and then took a couple hours to nap before taking our sweet Ellery to experience the aquarium for the first time. 

She called everything a goldfish and wanted to go "schwimmminnn" in every fish tank, so overall, I think she had a blast!

We spent the night at the Mizell's, the same precious place we stayed while we were waiting to bring our special little boy home from the hospital. 

Staying there brought back so many strong memories, as I took a few moments and relived some of the emotions I experienced in the early days. I became even more thankful for the time I have now with our Elam. Time to kiss him, and hold him as long as I like the night before surgery. 

We woke up at 5 AM to get ready to take our sweet boy for his third surgery. We applied lidocaine to his heels and ankles around 5:30 so the area would be numb before his tendon release procedure. 

The nurse came and took him from us right at 7 AM. They gave Ellery a paper castle and some stickers to decorate it with while we waited. Ellery entertained herself while watching Mickey Mouse, while I paced around the waiting area. 

Elam was only given local anesthesia, which was the lidocaine that we applied ourselves, for this I was thankful, but I also worried about him getting hungry, or crying his hysterical cry, the one where he forgets to breathe, on the operating table, and me not being there to comfort him. 

The nurse came out at 8, smiling and telling me he was in recovery and I could now go back to see him. 

His casts were red (to match his hair) and he was asleep. They said he did perfect through the surgery, and I kissed him as in quickly picked him up to hold him. We had to stay 30 minutes in recovery before we were allowed to leave. 

We spent the rest of the morning looking for bikes around New Orleans on Craigslist and taking Ellery to play at City Park. 

We made it home around 3 PM thankful that our next orthopedics appointment was scheduled for three weeks from now. 

Unfortunately, Wednesday morning I noticed Elam's little cast had started to slip already. The doctor had informed us that if it started to slip, even in the smallest amount, he needed to redo them, because the tendon would heal incorrectly.

So off to New Orleans I went for the second time in three days, to see doctors who know us well enough to be able schedule appointments around Elam's feeding schedule, while taking into account our 2 hour drive. This is awesome and unfortunate at the same time. It means we have been to see them far to many times in the past two months. 

Alas, we are back and praying his casts stay on for another 2 and a half weeks!

The Heart of Life is Good.

  As we journey through this life we are learning how little stuff actually matters and how much love does. Mothers, fathers, babies, sisters, brothers - and the love shared between - is what keeps us going, striving, and dwelling on the joy of life.

 As we love on our sweet babies today, we are remembering that the heart of life is good. 

  

Clubbed Feet.

(Progress after just two weeks of casts.)

I realized yesterday, as we were headed home from our 3rd visit with Ochsner's pediatric orthopedic department, that I haven't talked much about Elam's clubbed feet and the process it is going to take to correct them. 

Elam's little legs have been in the smallest of casts for the last two weeks, and had his third pair put on yesterday. They really don't seem to bother him, but it sure does make him appreciate the couple minutes he gets each week when the doctors take them off. 

The cutest movement you have ever seen comes from Elam's left leg as he wiggles it with pure excitement when it is freed from his cast. This makes my heart happy. 

The doctors have estimated around 6-8 weekly cast changes will be needed, as with each casts they are able to straighten the foot out a little more.

 After the weekly round of casts get the feet straight and flexible enough for the doctor's liking, Elam will undergo a small surgery to further loosen the tendons in the back of his feet. He will then be put back in casts for a month. 

After the month of casts, at this point I am not sure if there will then be more casting, or if then he will go straight to braces (that he will wear 24/7 for three or so months, and then at night for 4-5 years).  

It is really amazing to us to be able to see such improvement in just two weeks!

Getting out.

Sometimes you just need to be outdoors.

With a cranky toddler and a momma who is going a bit stir crazy, we figured heading down to the creek to get some riverbank sand between our toes is just what we needed to soothe our souls.

We celebrated Elam's one month birthday this way.

 

5 months ago.

There have been several days in the last year that have completely rocked our world, leaving us with a perspective that is far different than one we had ever dreamed of having. 

January 25 started it all. A day that broke our hearts beyond our ability to descibe. A day that changed the way I would look at pregnancy and the uncertainty of it, forever.

January 28 brought us back into the light, as we learned more of our son's condition and more on the power of prayer. We felt God's strength wrap around us, and as our hearts were lifted, we walked out of our exam room knowing our future was full of uncertainty, but that uncertainty would be accompanied by a lot of joy, too! 

These two very memorable days will always hold a special place in our hearts, for they started something uniquely special, a journey we would not have chosen on our own, but one we are so grateful to be a part of. 

Between those days and now, we have had quite a few that left us feeling pretty low, but through it all, we were graced with hope and strength. 

Our journey through Little Brother's pregnancy wasn't exactly easy, but all of the heartache we experienced just made God's purpose and love all the more clear - because at 5:49pm on June 20th, a set of perfect little lungs filled air, and we heard our brand new baby boy for the very first time. In that moment, we knew what pure love, peace, and utmost joy felt like. 

We endured five months of an emotional rollercoaster. Five months of waiting and praying and wanting so desperately just to know more than an ultrasound, blood work, or doctor could ever tell us. We just wanted our son. And now, as I watch him sleep on the bed right next to me, I have exactly what I had been longing for. 

I have a son - and he is perfect. 

I look at Elam and I am overcome with so many emotions. I see him as the little boy on the ultrasound screen at 17 1/2 weeks who we thought wouldn't survive. I see him as the little boy we were told we could abort at 18 weeks. 

But more than any of these, I see him as the perfectly created little boy that God has beautifully chosen to bless our family.  And with that, I smile, and thank our Lord for the gifts we are so undeservingly given. 

On Day 9.

We are so in love. And still so in awe of all of the blessings that continuously unfold before us. 

We are 9 days in to the otherside of our little boy's journey, and we can't begin to describe all the times we have been able to see the almighty strength of our God show up just when we needed Him. 

Can you believe it has already been 9 days? 

Little Elam was born Thursday, June 20, and has had quite the adventure ever since. He had his back closure surgery on Friday, where he had to be intubated and put on a feeding tube. They kept those in until his shunt placement on Monday.

Since he came through both surgeries with ease, the sweet NICU nurses were able to surprise us on Tuesday and gave us the permission to hold him again for the first time since those few precious moments right after he was born. So, on day 5, Justin held his son for the first time. 

I cried as tears of happiness glistened on my cheeks, and felt a feeling that can only be experienced - words will never come close to fully describing the emotion experienced in that moment. 

He was beautiful. 

He was perfect.

He was loved more than he'll ever be able to imagine. 

Our strong boy has come a long way so far.  He has been poked and prodded, had a lot of blood drawn, and been through multiple procedures, but with the grace of our Heavenly Father, his healing is going smoothly and we couldn't be happier. 

And today, on day 9, they let us take him home! He's ours - without the wires, without the loud beeps from the monitors, without us having to say good bye. 

We are so happy. But some how happy doesn't seem to fully describe our emotions. 

Elam Isaiah Tyson

Welcome to the world, little Elam Isaiah Tyson!

Born at 5:49 PM on June 20, 2013, weighing 7 lbs 7.6 oz and measuring 18 1/2 inches long, we are so blessed to call you our son.

Blue Nail Polish

"Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think."

Ephesians 3:20

Y'all!

Look at all these blue fingernails! 

I'm not sure it is possible for you to completely understand how much of an impact you guys are having on the life of our little family. To be able to see your love for us and for our little guy - who we have yet to meet, is truly unbelievable!

Pictures have cotinuously been sent to me over the past two days. Some from family, some from friends, and others from people we don't even know!

To say I was not expecting this, is an understatement! 

From Iowa to South Carolina, including many states in between, we have seen an outpouring of love from people who stand in the gap for us when we are feeling low. 

You are warriors. 

You are encouragers.

You are blessings. 

And we are so thankful - for every one of you! 

Yesterday we went to New Orleans for our 38 week check up. The doctor determined that my body was not quite ready to schedule an induction for next week, so we have pushed it back to my original due date, July 1. (Of course, with the unpredictable nature of babies, that date is still rather tenative.)

We are so ready to meet our little guy, that we can hardly stand it. We are ready to share with the world the blessing we have already recieved.

38 Weeks. {Little Brother}

This could possibly be the last week of this pregnancy.

In the beginning, we were told we would deliver via c-section between 36 and 37 weeks, so getting this far is a huge accomplishment in our books. With much prayer, we found a team of doctors who valued research and our opinions and insisted we keep this wonderfully unique little boy on the inside as long as possible.

But the end draws near.

A 39 week induction date has been discussed ever since we switched to Oshcner, mainly for surgical planning purposes.

So, the time is really coming!

And by golly, it's pretty nerve racking!

I believe in the power prayer. For that reason, I have been trying to think of a way for me to be constantly reminded to pray over the course of this next week, instead of clinging to the multitude of worries and fears that are sure to arise. .

And so I have decided to paint my fingernails light blue.

I find color on my nails to look rather awkward. My fingers are short (and stubby with this pregnancy) and any color in between my poorly- shaped cuticles just accentuates that dreadful little fact. So, to me, this isn't just a fashion thing, this is a get-over-yourself-and-pray thing.  This week, as I look down at my fingertips, whether it be to swipe my credit card or type another blog post, my hope is that I will be reminded ever so subtly that my God hears my prayers. He knows my heart, and He longs for me just to ask.

Now, I ask you to pray, too. You don't have to paint your nails. (Please, dad, DON'T paint your nails!) But I do ask that you keep us in the forefront of your prayers. Maybe when you see a blue stroller, or pass by the baby section in Wal-Mart (or if you're lucky enough to shop at a Target more frequently), take a short second to just lift us up in a thoughtful prayer.

This part of our journey is about to come to an end, but a whole new adventure waits just around the corner.

When doubt creeps in...

And this is the post in which I let everyone down.

Last night, I had a moment.

A moment where I allowed myself to dwell on all of the things that are rapidly approaching. And maybe this isn't the place for me to talk about it - or maybe it is. Maybe it's what you need to hear. Maybe it's something my heart needs to let go of.

A moment where I failed to look at the positive. A time when all I wanted was to be transported back to that 17 week ultrasound and be told, 'It's a healthy, 10 fingers, 10 toes, perfectly closed spine, little BOY!" I can still picture that room. The shoes I was wearing. The color of Justin's shirt.  The image is painfully captured through tear-filled eyes.

Sometimes I feel guilty about this, and sometimes I feel grateful for our journey, as it is teaching us so many important things. But last night, as Justin held me tight and the tears flowed freely down my face, I didn't feel any of those things. I let go of holding it all together for just a little while, and ever-so selfishly, felt sorry for myself.

 I thought about all of the surgeries - and all of the potential surgeries - Little brother will face once he arrives. I thought of him recovering in the NICU for an undetermined amount of time and not being able to really hold him for a while. I thought about how I'm going to learn to be a full-time pumping momma while little one requires a feeding tube. And I thought about how all of this will affect the big sister.

I also allowed myself to think of him. I thought of his clubbed feet. And open back. And lemon-shaped head.

I thought about how different it is going to be.

As Justin held me, he waited a while to speak. He let me be sad, but then, in a gentle voice, reminded me, although it seems like it sometimes, everything hasn't gone wrong in this pregnancy. So many good things have transpired and blessed us throughout our journey, and we must dwell on the joy, the good, the love.

As I let his words sink in, my cry turned into a sob. The harder my cry became, the easier it was for me to see how selfish I had been. He was right. Absolutely right.

Although he was right, my human heart still mumbled the word, "why?" and the frailty of my humanity showed through in a big way.

Sometimes it's hard to remember, when Satan's shout is much louder than God's whisper, that our Almighty has got this. His hands hold our hearts, and his strength covers all of our insecurities. 

"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." Jeremiah 29:11.

My God knows the answers to my ever-doubting heart. And He has it all planned out. That's just something I am going to have to learn to trust -time and time again.

My dear, sweet, very much opinionated toddler has decided she doesn't like falling asleep in her bed. She'd rather fight and fight and fight until she just can't take it anymore.

And you never know where her nap will take place. 

Wal-Mart?

Kitchen counter while coloring?

 

Oh goodness! 

Letter to Little {Brother}.

Dear Little Brother,

How fast has this time flown? My belly expands and makes room for your glorious, growing little body, and I can't believe we are just a few short weeks from meeting.  Love waits for you here. It longs to hold you and to wrap you ever so tightly in the sweetness of family.

You have Ellery to cover you in slobbery kisses.
Your sweet daddy will sing his soft lullabies in your tiny, little ears.
And I, darling boy, will strive everyday to give you more love than you know what to do with.

I long to hold you in my arms and show you all the beauty this big world has to offer. For I love you beyond words and can't wait for your precious arrival to make our family all the more complete.

Love upon love,

Mama.

Weakness.

As I sit here, staring at a blank page, the words in my head plead with my fingers to type the very thoughts I am feeling. My fingers are hesitant to release them - more directly - maybe its me who's hesitant to admit their very existence.

Today my heart is heavy.

Tears fall from my eyes as I long for the ability to be as naive as I was not so long ago. Naive in the sense that pregnancy was something that was certain. My ideology of conception was based on a woman's desire to have a baby, which was fulfilled as quickly as she wished it. Nine months later there would be a precious, healthy, newborn bundle, wrapped in pink or blue ready for her to take home and love. It was that simple and that easy.

My nature didn't think of things such as miscarriage, chromosomal abnormalities, or neural tube defects. Healthy, child-bearing women of my age did not have these problems - or so my innocence would allow me to believe.

And then, suddenly and without warning, I enter the realm of 'you can't control it', and reality smacks me in the face.

I have a dear friend, who just found out today that she is in the process of miscarrying for the third time. She is my age. Healthy, child-bearing age.

I have another friend who has tried for years, exhausted all fertility options, and is still childless.

I, as you all are aware, am bearing my own burden of uncertainty (though we know that he will also be very much a blessing).

Take your prenatal vitamins - religiously - before you even think about getting pregnant. Don't take hot baths or eat deli meat. Avoid caffeine and cleaning supplies. Drink lots of water and don't forget to go for a nice walk. By doing all this, you and your baby will be just fine. At least this is what we are led to believe.

And how I wish it was as simple of a thing that could be condensed into a little "do and do not" list that would guarantee success.  But unfortunately, the real truth is, as hard as we try, we can't control it.

Before Little Brother, spina bifida was just something I learned about in my sophomore Introduction to Special Education course. It was something that, if the mother wasn't negligent and actually took her prenatal, didn't happen.

I have been taking a prenatal vitamin since before I was pregnant with Ellery. I haven't had but a drop of caffeine (admittedly, besides what is found in chocolate) in more than two years. I am a do-it-all-by-the-books type of pregnant woman. So, today, in the midst of sharing my friend's deep sorrow and continuing to acknowledge the intensity of my own journey, it is a hard concept for me to grasp, in the center of it all, that our God can be so, head-over-heels in love with us, and still let scary and sad things happen.

My faith is not wavering. I am still very much convinced that His plan is much bigger and better than my own. However, on occasion my humanity takes over, and I step back, look around and wonder that ever-present question: Why?

Why do these sorts of things happen to women who do everything right? What about the healthy babies born to those who do everything wrong? How does this happen?

And when my human heart starts to stray and think thoughts such as these, I hear a still, small whisper that says, 'because it is My will.'

God's will. His.Perfect.Will.

And that's where I rest. Where I need to rest, even when it seems impossible - like tonight. Without specific reasons, without direct answers. Just the reminder to be thankful for what we can not change, for in tough times we are reminded of our weakness.  And in our weakness, we are reminded of His strength.

May He hold me. You. Us.  

This is my prayer.

*Pictures from last night's finger painting session. 

Dear Ellery,

You're growing up, sweet girl. I know I've said it a thousand times, but the wonder of it never ceases to amaze me.

As I watch you wander around the yard, picking and smelling flowers, then excitedly repeating 'flow-flow', your version of flower, while running to bring them for me to see, my heart is overwhelmed with the idea that God would love us so much to give us such a blessing.

You have your moments, and you throw your fits, but you truly bring an indescribable amount of joy to our little family and keep giant smiles on our faces.

Watching you grow is oh, so much fun!

Love upon love,

Mama

30 Week Appointment.

Today was a good day. 

And it was the day I remembered I never mentioned our newest change in health care providers. 

A few weeks ago, after a visit with the University OB in Jackson, Justin and I easily decided we wanted to explore other options. 

With a little research and a lot of calling around, we landed ourselves an appointment with the Maternal Fetal Medicine OB at Ochsner Medical Center in New Orleans.  We went for an appointment four weeks ago and decided, right then and there, that this was the team of doctors we trusted with our baby. 

So, instead of our original plan to deliver in Jackson, MS, we've made the exciting switch to deliver in New Orleans. 

Today was our second visit with them. 

Justin and I were a little nervous going in to the appointment, because it seemed that every appointment since we learned of our son's spina bifida had uncovered more bad news - sometimes the news was just a little worse, and other times it made me physically ill. At our last appointment, there was no terrible news, but we found out that Little Brother's kidneys were slightly dilated, which was an indication that damage may be occurring to them due to incomplete drainage of the bladder. 

We also found that the ventricles in his brain - the areas where fluid was building up due to the tension on his spinal cord - were continuing to grow. The fluid buildup causes pressure on the brain that can damage brain tissue if it gets too high. The upper boundary for "normal" ventricles are considered to be up to 13 mm wide for boys. Little Brother's ventricles were already measuring 17 and 18 mm and had been growing at about 1 mm per week for about two months. So we were afraid to find out how large they may have gotten in the month since out last appointment.

When we were led into the ultrasound room, we were greeted by our a very nice technician. She talked us through the ultrasound step-by-step, describing every part that she was measuring and what it meant. The first surprise came when she measured Little Brother's ventricles. One of them was still measuring at 17 mm, but the other had shrunk to 12 mm! It was the first time in three months of observation that the ventricles had not gotten larger, much less shrunk. Since we were expecting his ventricles to be measuring over 20 mm by this point, this was a wonderful surprise to us! We won't know what all of this means until farther down the road, but it is definitely good news!

The second surprise that we got came when our doctor came in to review the pictures that the ultrasound technician had taken. He was the first to report that Little Brother's kidneys were slightly dilated when we visited him a month earlier, but this time they measured in at 4 mm. He told us that the upper limit for "normal" kidneys at this stage would be 7 mm, so his kidneys no longer appeared dilated - more good news!

As important as the good news that we received about Little Brother's development today was the way we were treated when we visited our new hospital. We have been seen immediately both times we have been there, and the doctors and staff treat us like we are their priority. Our doctor has a strong focus on "What does the research say?", as opposed to our previous doctors, whose driving force always seemed to be, "Well, that's the way we've always done it." 

As an example, the previous specialists that we had seen in Jackson had all insisted on a C-section to deliver at about 37 weeks. This conflicted with the research I had read about online, which almost all seemed to agree that there was no evidence of a change in the long-term prognosis for children with spina bifida that were born by a normal delivery. By contrast, our doctor in New Orleans brought up the research right away and pretty much made it clear that his preference would be for a normal, full-term delivery. "If you just want us to cut you, we'll do it," he said, "but I would really like to see you make it to 39 weeks, and unless something changes in the development of your baby, there's no reason not to do a vaginal delivery." It sure is nice to have a doctor that goes by research instead of just convenience!

Needless to say, we're ecstatic. Throughout our pregnancy, we've felt God move through peace and comfort and guidance, but now, to physically see His touch and see His love revealed to us through this display of healing is amazing! 

As we continue to pray, please rejoice with us and give all the credit to our Father who loves us so passionately, even when though we are so undeserving.  We understand that we may see all these changes back in abnormal range at our next visit, but we have faith and assurance that God knows exactly what is in store, and he will help us through whatever it is!

REJOICE!

Big Sister Tendencies.

I think Ellery is going to love being a big sister!

Happy Easter!

For us, Easter was spent a little differently this year. 

And I was a little emotional about it, which could possible be related entirely to pregnancy hormones, but Justin says I can't use that excuse every time. So, we'll just say I was emotional. 

This was the first Easter we have spent away from our families, and I am a traditional-type person. I generally prefer to stick to things I am familiar with - such as, family on holidays. It's just something I like. 

Fortunately, we have gotten to know some pretty great people here in Mississippi, who have a way of making us feel more like family than friends. We were invited to spend our afternoon celebrating with a sweet friend and her family, and had quite the non-traditional blast!

From an egg hunt to a crawfish boil, it was a lot of fun. Even though the weather turned nasty, the power went out, and the crawfish pot blew over with a big gust of wind, we enjoyed being in the company of friends!

  

(We also found out, on our way home, that Justin's younger brother and his wife are expecting their first baby! Oh, so exciting!!)

Happy Easter!