I Take It Back

Musings over my pregnancies...bear with me while I share my experience.

Ever since I was pregnant with and gave birth to Sam, plus endured the following very difficult weeks, I have said I never understood why people get pregnant more than once instead of adopting. I'm sure I seem really harsh about it, because, obviously the joy of raising our very own biological child is extremely rewarding and I would never trade Sam for any amount of difficulties I had in conceiving him, bearing him or delivering him, but I really and honestly felt like I could adopt 100 more children before carrying another one myself.

Conceiving Sam took four and a half years. While carrying him, I was on bedrest for three months in three different countries. I spent weeks below the morgue in a public hospital in Hong Kong staring at a clock while doctor after doctor told me I was going to deliver him early and that there would be a very slim chance of his survival.

Delivery took 22.5 hours with just over three hours of actual pushing. I vomited for two plus hours afterwards. He wouldn't nurse the entire time he was in the hospital. I had an intrauterine infection that caused all the pre-term labor to begin with and caused me to have 103F fever for five weeks following his birth. Once I was on antibiotics (after they discovered what was causing it) I finally felt like myself again.

He was a wonderful baby (besides having to finger train him in how to nurse, which took days on end and countless hours of pumping). He was easy-going, lovely to be with, lovely to look at, a wonderful snuggler and quite aware from his first day outside of my womb (which, ended up being six days early).

He was my first. He is brilliant. I love him to death and wouldn't trade any of it - not one ambulance ride, not one moment of panic through countless contractions - NONE of it. I love him so much.

But trying to get pregnant for so long, carrying him, delivering him, and suffering through a strange infection afterwards really burned me for future pregnancies.

You can imagine my fear when I discovered I was pregnant with Hudson. I was fearful from the get-go about what kind of pregnancy I would have, what kind of delivery I would "suffer" and how the first weeks would go.

I worked throughout my whole pregnancy, despite 16 weeks of morning sickness (which ended at Disney World!). I raised my two children, a two year-old and a three year-old (now three and four) throughout the entire pregnancy. My husband traveled A LOT throughout the entire pregnancy.

Somehow I felt great. I had energy, I ate well, I was able to care for my kids AND start homeschooling them. We went to Tweetsie Railroad, the park, the local children's museum - we continued our lives as though I wasn't 43 pounds heavier. My back didn't hurt very badly, my hips didn't hurt. Despite the comments every pregnant woman endures ("you'll never make it to 40 weeks." "you're huge!" "Are you sure it's not twins?") I was none the worse for the wear.

And, delivery was amazing!

So, now you know, Hudson has entered our world. He came in just under four hours. He came in a mere 10 pushes and about six minutes. He nursed very quickly after being born for 45 straight minutes.

Wow. I didn't know it could be this way. I take back what I said. I DO understand why women get pregnant more than once. It's not so bad after the nine months are up. Sure, the hormone rushes make me cry for no reason and I'm quite sore, but other than that - WOW.

I'm so grateful to God that I got to experience this - the entire experience actually. Getting pregnant easily (without trying, actually), a healthy pregnancy, a wonderful delivery (amazing doctor too), and a very simple little boy who loves to nurse, be held and sleep.

Plus the joys of adoption! My cup is full. God has really blessed us.

Without further ado...here is our newest addition. Hudson.

Keeping Organized with Kids

I keep seeing these posts on my friend's Facebook pages about how if your house is messy than it's a sign that you're spending time with your kids, or if your house is clean it's a sign that you are neglecting your children.

For some reason this post has really stuck with me - I keep mulling it over in my mind and wondering if there really is any truth to it or if it's just a post to write and give an excuse to an already messy house.

The jury is still out on that one, but as for my house - it's generally organized all the time. Does this mean that I am neglecting my children? Absolutely not. Does it mean I'm obsessive compulsive? I don't think so.

What it DOES mean, for me and my life, is that I require order to be a productive happy member of society. It started as early as my pre-teen years, when I wouldn't be able to really study for a test unless my room was organized first. It just distracted me too much. Things around me don't need to be clean, per se, but "organization" is the key.

Other mothers often ask me how I do it, so I will share my "secret."

When it's time to play, it's time to play. It can be messy and downright disgusting in our home during play time. But, once it's time to move on to another activity, I require that everything is picked up first from the previous activity. Where does everything go? I'm glad you asked.

I have baskets all over my home for different types of toys. There's a plastic train track basket, a wooden train track basket, a car basket, a miscellaneous girl toy basket (does it ever seem like girl toys just can't be sorted according to the type of toy?), a homeschooling basket, a stuffed animal bucket, and many more. I find that all of these baskets truly help to keep things looking a bit more organized (or to the untrained eye, "clean") and the children know where every toy belongs. Once I say, "put your trains away," there's no question as to where they go and they are usually put there very quickly.

So, the secret to MY organized home is baskets. What's the secret to yours?

Cleanliness is a different matter altogether!