We had a good appointment this afternoon and I think Dr. Scherer effectively talked me down from my cliff of paranoid anxiety about Clara arriving too early (for now!). I’m still progressing towards labor. For those out there who like the nitty gritty details, I was 3cm dilated and 70% effaced and Clara has definitely dropped. But the doctor wasn’t panicked at all that it was too much progress to still be a week away. In fact, she was encouraged that these signs just mean that I’ll respond favorably to induction. So, we have now officially scheduled the induction for next Wednesday. Robert and I will check in to the hospital at 5:30AM and once we get settled in to a room will start the Pitocin. We’re hoping Clara will decide to arrive sometime late afternoon/evening on Wednesday. We also hooked up to the monitor today for about 15 minutes, just to make sure everything was looking and sounding all right and Dr. Scherer said she looked “perfect.” I was apparently having contractions about every two minutes while hooked up to the monitor, but they weren’t very strong at all – some of them I couldn’t even feel and the others were definitely not painful. Dr. Scherer assures me that if I go into labor, I’ll know it and the contractions will be a lot stronger. Robert got to hear her hiccups while I felt them and counted other movements. We both listened to that sweet little heartbeat ticking away. So, everything is looking good and on track for our best laid plans. Fortunately, Dr. Scherer is around between now and Wednesday anyways, so if something does start to kick into gear early, she can still check in on us. Thanks for your prayers that Clara continue to stay put and grow in her cozy safe home for one more week. Tomorrow we have our last ultrasound and hopefully will get some final in utero photos plus a last weight check. Hey, guess what? One week from today I’m going to be a mama. How cool is that?
March 16, 2011
March 15, 2011
Crossing Fingers, Crossing Legs...
I think that most women get to Week 38 of pregnancy and are so ready to be done with it all that they start trying the laundry list of ways to get the baby out: taking walks, eating spicy food, foot massages, drinking vinegar, going bowling, herbal teas, cleaning the house, acupressure, castor oil, eating pineapple, and whatever else the wives’ tales suggest. Although I am eager and ready to Clara to be here, I’m now in the twilight zone of wanting her to stay precisely where she is for eight more days. My doctor, whom I love and who has cared for us so well during this pregnancy, is on call right now until noon tomorrow and then not again until our scheduled induction next Wednesday. So, I would really like for Clara to promise to stay put until then. Not only are we wanting to avoid me going into labor on my own, for the sake of scheduling and having all the right doctors on standby and ready and all that jazz, but I’d really really really like Kerri Scherer to be the one to deliver this baby. Not to mention I have three more days of school this week that I would also like to finish with my kids before handing them off to the maternity sub. I have an appointment tomorrow to check on progress and have recently been haunted by dreams where I’m 5cm dilated and rushed to the hospital to deliver immediately following. Please don’t come true! I’m torn between being encouraged by signs of some progress towards labor (Clara seems to have dropped some, my feet and hands are swelling up a bit lot, and I know that two weeks ago I was already 1cm/50% effaced, so at least there’s hope that my body recognizes we’re getting closer to the time… so sorry if that was too much information for you!) that may mean that the induction is successful and labor won’t last for too long and also not wanting things to progress too much before next Wednesday when we can control everything. So, focus your prayers on Clara and her health once she gets here, but if you happen to think of it, you might just say a little prayer that she stays happily in the womb until next Wednesday. I’m avoiding everything in the aforementioned list. And in the meantime, I’ll cross my fingers and cross my legs too….
March 13, 2011
Intercessory Prayer
Some of the wonderful folks in our Sunday School class at church have organized a time of intercessory prayer for us and for Clara around the time of her birth. For 24 hours, beginning at midnight on March 23, there are 30 minute slots for folks to sign up to commit to praying for Clara. This is just another of the many ways we have been humbled and overwhelmed by the expressions of love others have shown us. With March 23 just ten days away (!!!!), I wanted to be sure to share the link here, so those of you who may not have been aware, but would like to sign up for a time, can do so.
If this is something that you feel called to participate in, please visit the sign up here.
If the link doesn't work, copy and paste this address: http://doodle.com/4h44gps9vwxtb89k
Again, we cannot say enough how much we have been encouraged and sustained by the prayers and love you have all covered us in the past few months. With Clara's birthday rapidly approaching we ask you now, more than ever, to continue praying for her. We remain hopeful and optimistic that she will have a speedy recovery and come home with us soon. We believe that your prayers truly matter.
More to come....
If this is something that you feel called to participate in, please visit the sign up here.
If the link doesn't work, copy and paste this address: http://doodle.com/4h44gps9vwxtb89k
Again, we cannot say enough how much we have been encouraged and sustained by the prayers and love you have all covered us in the past few months. With Clara's birthday rapidly approaching we ask you now, more than ever, to continue praying for her. We remain hopeful and optimistic that she will have a speedy recovery and come home with us soon. We believe that your prayers truly matter.
More to come....
March 10, 2011
Music
I'm really not one to listen to contemporary Christian music (although I'll admit I did go through a pretty serious stage of it in high school....). If I want worship music, I'm really more of a hymn girl and otherwise I listen to country or NPR or whatever my music-snob husband has playing. But the past few months, I've been finding myself wanting to listen to worship or praise music while I'm driving around and since my iPod is never charged and they don't make radio stations that play Blessed Assurance and Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing, I've found myself tuning in to KLove some. There are two songs in particular that I've heard in the past little bit that have spoken to me during this time, so I thought I'd share the lyrics.
Amy Grant's Better Than a Hallelujah
God loves a lullaby
In a mother's tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
God loves the drunkard's cry,
The soldier's plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah.
The woman holding on for life,
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes
The tears of shame for what's been done,
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
Better than a church bell ringing,
Better than a choir singing out, singing out.
And... Natalie Grant's Held
Two months is too little
They let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling
Who told us we’d be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
Were asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it’s unfair
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
This hand is bitterness
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
If hope if born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our savior
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
I think they speak for themselves, or maybe they don't really speak to you at all right now. But as a soon-to-be mother that is likely to be crying through lullabies in the dead of the night soon, or who sometimes feels that the sacred is torn from my life, it's nice to hear that God hears my cries, maybe even sweeter than a Hallelujah, and that He'll hold me.
Amy Grant's Better Than a Hallelujah
God loves a lullaby
In a mother's tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
God loves the drunkard's cry,
The soldier's plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah.
The woman holding on for life,
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes
The tears of shame for what's been done,
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
Better than a church bell ringing,
Better than a choir singing out, singing out.
And... Natalie Grant's Held
Two months is too little
They let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling
Who told us we’d be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
Were asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it’s unfair
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
This hand is bitterness
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
If hope if born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our savior
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
I think they speak for themselves, or maybe they don't really speak to you at all right now. But as a soon-to-be mother that is likely to be crying through lullabies in the dead of the night soon, or who sometimes feels that the sacred is torn from my life, it's nice to hear that God hears my cries, maybe even sweeter than a Hallelujah, and that He'll hold me.
March 6, 2011
The Baby Daddy
I promise to always be faithful to you, honest with you, and understanding and accepting of you. I will strive to comfort you and support you through life's sorrows and joys, in good times and in bad, in plenty and in want, through illness and in health. I will forgive you as we have been forgiven. I will love you unconditionally, respect you, trust you, laugh with you and cry with you, learn with you and grow with you as together we build a home centered on Christ's love and compassion. I promise to always love, honor, and cherish you for as long as we both live.
On June 14, 2008, Robert and I stood before friends and family and read these vows we had written together. We would never have expected that less than three years later we’d be where we are now or just how much these vows would mean in light of what’s ahead of us. Most of this blog has been my ramblings, my worries and fears, my hopes and dreams and my updates. But there’s a remarkable unsung hero behind it all and he deserves a little recognition.
Robert has loved me so well through this pregnancy. I can’t even begin to imagine becoming a mother without him as the father. When we first found about Clara’s diaphragmatic hernia we were both devastated. It was the kind of news that could have driven a couple apart with fear and sadness and grief. But instead, we clung to each other with a tenaciousness and desperation that has just made me so terribly grateful for this man I married. When I feel overwhelmed or panicked or sad, he is the one who is strong for me. He allows me to cry, he holds me when I’m broken, he reassures me of our hope and faith without ever belittling or discounting what I might be feeling. He is a rock. His calm and peaceful spirit has sustained me and comforted me through the darkest of times. He is so patient and forgiving and understanding of me. (An email I got from him last week said, “Is there a reason that there’s a full jar of jelly in the sink?” Yes. It’s pregnancy brain. Thank you for putting it away.)
He has cooked meals so I could sleep on the couch and cleaned them up when I still couldn’t manage to get up. He has made runs to the drug store to buy medicine for me without complaint of the time of night. He has rubbed hydrocortisone cream all over my rash-covered body and covered me with ice packs to soothe the itching when I couldn’t sleep. He has listened to more vomiting than any one man should ever have to endure and brought me crackers and Sprite at all hours of the night. He has gone to sleep in the guest room so that I could have the whole bed to myself and my pillow fort. He has painted Clara’s room and assembled her furniture and endured hours in Babies R Us while I contemplated which carseat, stroller, highchair or pack n play would be best. He has offered his frustration and annoyance that parking lots rarely have “expectant mother parking” (even though I’ve told him I can still walk; I’m pregnant, not handicapped!). He has fussed at me for licking the bowl of raw brownie batter for fear that I’d give Clara salmonella poisoning. He has refilled my ice water ten thousand times. He has arranged his work schedule to be with me at doctor’s appointments, even when it hasn’t been necessary, but just because I seem to constantly carry fear of “bad news.” He has installed a new faucet in Clara’s bathtub so it will be easier to give her baths once she’s home. He has held me while I cry. He has rubbed my back when I cannot sleep. He has prayed for me and with me and over me. He continues to tell me I’m beautiful even when I know for a fact I’m not. He has extended grace to me countless times for things I have forgotten, broken, burned, or ruined. He has made me laugh when I just need to be distracted. He has let me watch USA shows when he really prefers FX. He has carried girly tote bags in public when he deemed them too heavy for me. He has checked the temperature of my bath because he worries that I take them too hot for baby. He has taken me out on dates. He always drives, even after he’s sometimes spent 6+ hours driving that day for his job, just because he knows I don’t like to. He’s stayed up late to finish chores around the house I didn’t get to. He’s woken up early just because he knows I don’t like leaving for work while he’s still sleeping. He went to birthing classes with me and watch horrific videos and still promises to stand by my side through labor and delivery. He has worked so hard to earn as much money as possible so we can save for Clara’s medical expenses. He has even quit drinking much beer, for the sake of the budget. He has run up and down the stairs to get things for me so I don’t have to. He has skipped out on opportunities to go kayaking or climbing to spend time with me instead. And a million other things. He has loved me well. He has lived in to those vows in a way I would never have dreamed would be necessary or possible. Clara doesn’t know how lucky she is to have him for a daddy. Because as much as he loves me, I’m sure he’ll love her even more. Just imagine what he’ll do for her….
 |
| Baby Daddy, ready to hold Clara in his arms.... |
Ready
We feel like we've done what we need to do in terms of preparing ourselves emotionally, physically and mentally for what's ahead. We don't know exactly what to expect, but we've met with as many doctors and nurses and other specialists as we can, we’ve done what research on CDH we’re going to do, and we’ve talked with other families who have been through this before us. Clara's room is finished, there are diapers in the caddy and her clothes are washed. We've been to birthing classes and thought about what our unique delivery and the weeks after will look like. We've talked about being parents and done the emotional work we think we need to do to begin caring for Clara. We're ready to bring a beautiful, sick baby girl into this world and even more ready to get her healthy and bring her home. We're just ready now to face whatever it is that we're going to have to face. Although it has been a difficult pregnancy, made more difficult by the grief of Clara's condition, we remain so very grateful for this early diagnosis and the advantages of having time to fully process everything. We now stand at the threshold of a great big new adventure and we just feel ready to take the next step. I'm sure in some ways the next two and a half weeks will go quickly, but in other ways I feel like time is slowing to a crawl. I’m torn between trying to follow the ridiculous helpful advice that everyone gives you: “Rest now, while you can!” and just wanting to be through delivery, released from the hospital and sitting by Clara’s bassinet in the NICU, even if it does mean exhaustion and stress and fear and sadness. I know it will be hard, and probably even harder than what I can imagine, but I’m just so ready to meet her, see her, touch her, hold her, and bring her home. I already love her more and more each day and I can’t imagine how much more that will increase when she’s here and fighting for her life. I’m proud of her already – for growing strong, for practicing her breathing, for hiccuping and making her diaphragm strong. If I can feel such pride for these things we can only glimpse through an ultrasound, again I can’t imagine what it will be like when she’s here with us. So, in short: I’m ready. Our bags are packed, the carseat is installed, and my heart is bursting. Here we go, Clara.
 |
| Our bags are packed; I'm ready to go. |
 |
| Brand new carseat installed and ready to be checked by the fire department. We are going to bring you home in this, Clara. I believe it. |
Ultrasound Update
We had another ultrasound on Friday at officially 36 weeks, 4 days. Clara was weighing in at 6 pounds, 14 ounces, which as my friend Stacy said, "Sounds awfully close to 7 pounds!" She's right. We've got 2 and half weeks to go, so it's looking like that eight pound baby is going to happen. Clara is still growing lots of hair, so she won't be coming out bald, but that may be the only way she doesn't resemble her father. Kathy kept exclaiming how much she looked like Robert. Including her head size in the 94th percentile. Thanks, Robert.
The good news is we saw lots of lung movement... a full minute of "breathing" amniotic fluid and we could really see lots of good chest rising and falling movement. This is a great encouragement to us because the more she practices, the better the chances she'll be able to use that lung to breathe air in a couple of weeks.
The BPP (BioPhysical Profile) was otherwise good. She's growing well, breathing well, amniotic fluid levels were stable, and she is still spending lots of time sucking on her fingers, hands and arms. We did get a little wave this week too (wish we had video!) which was precious.
It's been so fun to see Clara every week or so and watch her grow in utero. Kathy, the sonographer at Forsyth, has been so good to us and is such an encouragement during each visit. We're both very ready now to meet this baby girl. Here are a few more shots for you, compliments of the best fetal photographer we know:
The good news is we saw lots of lung movement... a full minute of "breathing" amniotic fluid and we could really see lots of good chest rising and falling movement. This is a great encouragement to us because the more she practices, the better the chances she'll be able to use that lung to breathe air in a couple of weeks.
The BPP (BioPhysical Profile) was otherwise good. She's growing well, breathing well, amniotic fluid levels were stable, and she is still spending lots of time sucking on her fingers, hands and arms. We did get a little wave this week too (wish we had video!) which was precious.
It's been so fun to see Clara every week or so and watch her grow in utero. Kathy, the sonographer at Forsyth, has been so good to us and is such an encouragement during each visit. We're both very ready now to meet this baby girl. Here are a few more shots for you, compliments of the best fetal photographer we know:
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