I hit Black Friday Shopping with a vengeance!! I accomplished so much on Friday, and now the wrapping piles are much larger!! We do power wrapping after the kids go to bed at night, and hubby loves that part the most. We normally watch a cheesy Christmas movie or listen to the carols that I love while we wrap. Good family times!
We had a wonderful thanksgiving day with family. Both of our parents are in their seventies, so we cherish every holiday that we have with them all. We ate a big meal with alot of desserts and played games until bedtime. It was a memorable day, with our oldest daughter plus her husband plus his brother plus our kids plus our parents ... good times.
I love the holidays. Giving, wrapping, surprises, baking, cooking, family all around. I hope all of you are enjoying these special days too.
Large family life, through a mama's eyes
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
November
Time is flying by on the homefront. It seems like we had just opened our camper for the season when we emptied it and got it ready for winter. That's the first sign of November.
Planning for our thanksgiving feast is another sign. We know with a large family, it's usually much easier to host holiday events than to drag 7 kids to other homes. Besides, it's not like we get a ton of invitations anyway!! We sat down last week to prepare our dinner list, always including the standard fare, along with a couple of new dishes this year. We plan on having about 9 guests, so will be bringing all the table and chairs out of the basement, and washing up all the table covers. I think of the first thanksgiving and wonder what they would think of our use of paper plates, and disposable dinner wear. I love a fancy table, but when you feed a crowd, it's one of the sacrifices I am willing to make for it to be a day of fellowship, and not extra work.
We also started putting our Santa lists together this week. I admit, it's hard to write a wish list when the temps have been warmer than some parts of our summer this year. I think once the snow flies, I feel more in the holiday mood, and it seems much more real once the trees are lit. We started a family tradition last year with joining one of our children's birth grandma and taking an old fashioned wagon ride to the pine tree farm to pick out the perfect tree. Since we have a couple of asthmatics in our family, we put the real tree on the porch out front, and the artificial tree in the house. Both become spectacular sights, and we enjoy the decorating. Last year our house still had the outside wrap on it, since we didn't get the siding done until this spring, so we always teased that the lights on the tree made a wonderful advertisment for our local lumber company. I wonder if they will miss that this year? Our outdoor tree was (of course) the most expensive on the lot, and this year I hope to encourage the kids to find a perfect "cheaper" tree. Oh to be young again and not have to be concerned about money!
So, I started my christmas shopping, wondering how to teach the kids about the true meaning of the holiday, and still enjoy the American traditions that we all enjoy. We started by choosing 3 names of children off of our church Christmas tree that need some loving, and began purchasing gifts for them that may be the only thing they receive this year. We will begin our baking after thanksgiving, with the plan of making trays to give to our neighbors, and hopefully taking some to the women's shelter downtown. In times past we have made boxes that are sent to orphanages overseas, but this year I am looking for other ways to help the kids really be involved in helping some who are less fortunate than we are. I have asked them to consider what we can do either individually, or as a family, to help someone else. I am hoping they can come up with some good answers on their own.
In the midst of all the business of life, I am reaching into my own heart and trying to define the things I am blessed with, and express my thankfulness for them. I realize there are so many ways I am blessed by family, friends, and even strangers, and I hope that I am living my life as a blessing to others. The words I say, the things I do, the people I am around.
Our homestudy is finally nearing completion, and we hope to have the hard copy in hand right after the holiday. I hear rumors about international adoption closing its doors and I fight the panic response. I am more than ready to welcome our newest children into our home. I dream of them. I wonder throughout the day who they are, what they look like, when will they come home? I try to trust in an all knowing Father who knows our hearts and the hearts of Kings, and I won't give up the desire of my heart until I know for sure we have done all we can do to reach our children.
Until then, we go through our days, counting our blessings, reaching out to others, teaching the important things of life to our children, and praying daily for what is ahead. I hope you can do the same, and I look forward to hearing how you have succeeded in your life goals, also. God bless you and yours in this season of thanksgiving.
Planning for our thanksgiving feast is another sign. We know with a large family, it's usually much easier to host holiday events than to drag 7 kids to other homes. Besides, it's not like we get a ton of invitations anyway!! We sat down last week to prepare our dinner list, always including the standard fare, along with a couple of new dishes this year. We plan on having about 9 guests, so will be bringing all the table and chairs out of the basement, and washing up all the table covers. I think of the first thanksgiving and wonder what they would think of our use of paper plates, and disposable dinner wear. I love a fancy table, but when you feed a crowd, it's one of the sacrifices I am willing to make for it to be a day of fellowship, and not extra work.
We also started putting our Santa lists together this week. I admit, it's hard to write a wish list when the temps have been warmer than some parts of our summer this year. I think once the snow flies, I feel more in the holiday mood, and it seems much more real once the trees are lit. We started a family tradition last year with joining one of our children's birth grandma and taking an old fashioned wagon ride to the pine tree farm to pick out the perfect tree. Since we have a couple of asthmatics in our family, we put the real tree on the porch out front, and the artificial tree in the house. Both become spectacular sights, and we enjoy the decorating. Last year our house still had the outside wrap on it, since we didn't get the siding done until this spring, so we always teased that the lights on the tree made a wonderful advertisment for our local lumber company. I wonder if they will miss that this year? Our outdoor tree was (of course) the most expensive on the lot, and this year I hope to encourage the kids to find a perfect "cheaper" tree. Oh to be young again and not have to be concerned about money!
So, I started my christmas shopping, wondering how to teach the kids about the true meaning of the holiday, and still enjoy the American traditions that we all enjoy. We started by choosing 3 names of children off of our church Christmas tree that need some loving, and began purchasing gifts for them that may be the only thing they receive this year. We will begin our baking after thanksgiving, with the plan of making trays to give to our neighbors, and hopefully taking some to the women's shelter downtown. In times past we have made boxes that are sent to orphanages overseas, but this year I am looking for other ways to help the kids really be involved in helping some who are less fortunate than we are. I have asked them to consider what we can do either individually, or as a family, to help someone else. I am hoping they can come up with some good answers on their own.
In the midst of all the business of life, I am reaching into my own heart and trying to define the things I am blessed with, and express my thankfulness for them. I realize there are so many ways I am blessed by family, friends, and even strangers, and I hope that I am living my life as a blessing to others. The words I say, the things I do, the people I am around.
Our homestudy is finally nearing completion, and we hope to have the hard copy in hand right after the holiday. I hear rumors about international adoption closing its doors and I fight the panic response. I am more than ready to welcome our newest children into our home. I dream of them. I wonder throughout the day who they are, what they look like, when will they come home? I try to trust in an all knowing Father who knows our hearts and the hearts of Kings, and I won't give up the desire of my heart until I know for sure we have done all we can do to reach our children.
Until then, we go through our days, counting our blessings, reaching out to others, teaching the important things of life to our children, and praying daily for what is ahead. I hope you can do the same, and I look forward to hearing how you have succeeded in your life goals, also. God bless you and yours in this season of thanksgiving.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Travel, Homestudy and Steaks
I just got back last night from a 4 day power trip to North Carolina. Bella's grandma was going to visit relatives, and we tagged along. The mountains never fail to amaze me. The creeks running over stones, rough waters peaking in white foam over sharp rocks. Some areas the water meandered slowly around curves, while just around the mountain bend, it appeared to pick up speed and race to the next jut in the mountainside. Beautiful. Brought back alot of memories of our years in Coleman Falls, Virgina, living in a caretakers cottage at the base of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
I said power weekend, because the drive is over 13 hours one way, we visited with relatives for 2 days, and returned home the next. One thing I always enjoy about road trips is the hours of conversation you can have with the passengers. Some of the time Bella would sing at the top of her lungs, drowning out the words between her gramma and I. Then she would fall asleep, mostly content in her car seat with paci blanket in hand. I inherited Gramma with Bella's adoption, a first in our home of many adoptions. It's interesting to actually have biological information on a child not born to us, and it's fun to get to know how we are connected to others. An extended family. A new world we didn't ever think of 3 years ago as being possible.
Adoption does that. Opens you up to other people, other situations. Makes you think about things you would never consider otherwise. We want to shy away from these connections sometimes. Some conversations make me uncomfortable, and I find out things about her birth mom that I will have to explain someday. I pray that she will make better choices in the years ahead, because one day Bella will run into her, and I hope it can be a positive experience, not one that will cause her fear or doubts about where her life may have been had she not joined our family...
Then I think again about the current homestudy. Our caseworker said she was recommending that we are allowed to adopt two Ethiopians this time. That was our hope. As she completes the paperwork that we need to send to the Ethiopian government, I wonder how the picture of our family will unfold to the authorities there? Will they be assured that we will love the children they place here as if they were born to us? We intend to. Will they think we can provide to the best of our ability? We will. Will they recognize our home as one of laughter, growth and family times? It is. Will they agree with the social worker, and when can we begin this process of remaking and adding on to our family? We are ready.
So, where does the Steak come in?? I will try to give the shortened version here.
Our school is doing conferences this week, so several days are 1/2 days, which also means several days the kindergarteners have no school. Today was one of those days, and being that I just traveled from 8:30am to midnight yesterday coming home from North Carolina, and the morning needed to start out slowly so I could catch up...
Tommy doesn't understand S..L...O...W...and he hit the ground running. By noon I had cleaned the livingroom twice, chased 3 little ones out of the mud in the back yard, chased the dog (oh yeah, we got a dog...) in from the back yard, and picked wet fun fruits off the newly cleaned carpet in the livingroom. While I was doing that, the little ones were destroying the diningroom....so, at 11:30, I decided a trip to Taco Bell would break the cycle, and give me a reason to leave the mess for later. In the plan making stage of getting out, the kids needed a bath to get the mud off, they needed to get shoes on, and get into their car seats. We grabbed a half loaf of bread, knowing that we could also feed the ducks at the river while we were out. A party was forming now. Picking up our taco's first, we headed to the riverfront. Of course our town has a huge (house-high) boulder that marks the site of our historical place in this world. The kids promised they would be good if we could "climb" big rock after we fed the ducks. The party was expanding. After duck feeding, chasing pigeons and eating our taco's, we climbed big rock. It was a Kodak moment, especially rolling down the big hill in front of the big rock. The only way I could persuade them to leave the historical site was to promise we would go "deer hunting." Our version includes driving slowly down the back roads of town, towards the old Indian cemetary, looking intently for wandering deer. No such luck today. So we ended our excursion with a quick trip to the grocery store. Emotions were still high, energy levels no where near the downslide yet. I promised each a candy bar if they were good (well, sometimes a bribe like this works well) at the grocery. I was pleased to find steaks on a great sale price, so I picked up extra packs for the freezer. Out to the van, and we were on our way. We stopped at gramma and grampa's house for a minute, and that's when the steak incident happened.
Talking briefly with the grandfolks was enough time for Tommy, Mere or Bella to open a pack of cold steaks, but I didn't recognize what was happening at the back of the van until Bella pushed a hunk of steak at my face in her dirty hands, and said "Look what Tommy did!" (He denied it all.) It took me a minute to recognize the red meat in front of me was not road kill, or the catch of the season but the steak I had just bought. My dad was laughing til he nearly fell down, mom looked surprised, and the little hands held tight to the fresh steak that was going to be supper....
If I had thought of it, another picture would have explained it better. But suffice it to say, all in all it was a successful day off of school. And tonight we are going for pizza, after all....
I said power weekend, because the drive is over 13 hours one way, we visited with relatives for 2 days, and returned home the next. One thing I always enjoy about road trips is the hours of conversation you can have with the passengers. Some of the time Bella would sing at the top of her lungs, drowning out the words between her gramma and I. Then she would fall asleep, mostly content in her car seat with paci blanket in hand. I inherited Gramma with Bella's adoption, a first in our home of many adoptions. It's interesting to actually have biological information on a child not born to us, and it's fun to get to know how we are connected to others. An extended family. A new world we didn't ever think of 3 years ago as being possible.
Adoption does that. Opens you up to other people, other situations. Makes you think about things you would never consider otherwise. We want to shy away from these connections sometimes. Some conversations make me uncomfortable, and I find out things about her birth mom that I will have to explain someday. I pray that she will make better choices in the years ahead, because one day Bella will run into her, and I hope it can be a positive experience, not one that will cause her fear or doubts about where her life may have been had she not joined our family...
Then I think again about the current homestudy. Our caseworker said she was recommending that we are allowed to adopt two Ethiopians this time. That was our hope. As she completes the paperwork that we need to send to the Ethiopian government, I wonder how the picture of our family will unfold to the authorities there? Will they be assured that we will love the children they place here as if they were born to us? We intend to. Will they think we can provide to the best of our ability? We will. Will they recognize our home as one of laughter, growth and family times? It is. Will they agree with the social worker, and when can we begin this process of remaking and adding on to our family? We are ready.
So, where does the Steak come in?? I will try to give the shortened version here.
Our school is doing conferences this week, so several days are 1/2 days, which also means several days the kindergarteners have no school. Today was one of those days, and being that I just traveled from 8:30am to midnight yesterday coming home from North Carolina, and the morning needed to start out slowly so I could catch up...
Tommy doesn't understand S..L...O...W...and he hit the ground running. By noon I had cleaned the livingroom twice, chased 3 little ones out of the mud in the back yard, chased the dog (oh yeah, we got a dog...) in from the back yard, and picked wet fun fruits off the newly cleaned carpet in the livingroom. While I was doing that, the little ones were destroying the diningroom....so, at 11:30, I decided a trip to Taco Bell would break the cycle, and give me a reason to leave the mess for later. In the plan making stage of getting out, the kids needed a bath to get the mud off, they needed to get shoes on, and get into their car seats. We grabbed a half loaf of bread, knowing that we could also feed the ducks at the river while we were out. A party was forming now. Picking up our taco's first, we headed to the riverfront. Of course our town has a huge (house-high) boulder that marks the site of our historical place in this world. The kids promised they would be good if we could "climb" big rock after we fed the ducks. The party was expanding. After duck feeding, chasing pigeons and eating our taco's, we climbed big rock. It was a Kodak moment, especially rolling down the big hill in front of the big rock. The only way I could persuade them to leave the historical site was to promise we would go "deer hunting." Our version includes driving slowly down the back roads of town, towards the old Indian cemetary, looking intently for wandering deer. No such luck today. So we ended our excursion with a quick trip to the grocery store. Emotions were still high, energy levels no where near the downslide yet. I promised each a candy bar if they were good (well, sometimes a bribe like this works well) at the grocery. I was pleased to find steaks on a great sale price, so I picked up extra packs for the freezer. Out to the van, and we were on our way. We stopped at gramma and grampa's house for a minute, and that's when the steak incident happened.
Talking briefly with the grandfolks was enough time for Tommy, Mere or Bella to open a pack of cold steaks, but I didn't recognize what was happening at the back of the van until Bella pushed a hunk of steak at my face in her dirty hands, and said "Look what Tommy did!" (He denied it all.) It took me a minute to recognize the red meat in front of me was not road kill, or the catch of the season but the steak I had just bought. My dad was laughing til he nearly fell down, mom looked surprised, and the little hands held tight to the fresh steak that was going to be supper....
If I had thought of it, another picture would have explained it better. But suffice it to say, all in all it was a successful day off of school. And tonight we are going for pizza, after all....
Monday, October 26, 2009
Homework
We found ourselves completely immersed in the kids school work this week. Taking 10 days to travel to the grandkids really cramped their styles at school, and this week was HOURS of catch up work for the 3 oldest. The younger kids were able to take theirs with us to Jersey, but the bigger kids had payback time this entire week.
By Saturday night, I realized I had omitted working with Tom and Mere on their regular homework, so we pulled out the book called "Hats" and they both "read" them perfectly. They love their kindergarten teacher, and I can hear her expressive reading when they recount what they are learning.
Part of their homework was to discuss the use of Hats and other things we wear. One question was, "What do we wear on our wrists?" Of course the Princess didn't skip a beat when she said "bracelets!". Tom took a half a second longer and said, matter of factly, "Handcuffs."
It made us laugh out loud. What does our little guy know about handcuffs? Ah, the surprises from little lips!
We have our last home visit with our caseworker this week. Not only are we finishing projects and touching up paint that has been scribbled on (only 3 of them are doing that these days), we are cleaning closets and sorting through the last of the summer clothes and hanging up the winter coats. It is Michigan, so day to day weather is hard to predict.
It seems like such a long year of getting to this point. So much has happened along the way, and yet, it feels some days as if time has been suspended. We try to picture who our Ethiopian born children will be, and wish we were closer than we are to meeting them. I try to be patient, knowing God's great plan will bring it all together in HIS perfect timing, but the very human, mother side of me is anxious to put my babies to sleep in their new room. Having met our newest grandson makes it even more real to believe there are children in Ethio that have lost their family and we need to bridge the gap as soon as possible to them.
We like our caseworker. She is working on her own adoption, so she is sensitive to our emotional journey. This visit she will meet our other children, and form her final opinions about our life, our home, and our plans. She has told us she will recommend us for 2 children, and there is no fear that it will all go smoothly (as possible for an international adoption!!) from here. It's just the waiting that makes it seem almost impossible to bear.
I love a plan. I love knowing when things are going to happen, how it will work out and what I need to do to make it come to fruition. In earlier years it was preparing sunday school classwork, and later on, Vacation Bible School at our home church. That morphed into starting a home cleaning team, and years later,an office position that allowed me to help with managing the office, and helping employees with their benefits. I had clear plans for every day, and time tables I could work with.
Once we started with foster care, most of my plans became dealing with issues "on the fly" while getting kids to counseling, doctor appointments and visitations. I kept a meticulous calendar, and thrived in the business of "doing." When I endeavored to homeschool 6 of our kids, ages 11 to 4, I still found solace in a well kept schedule of events.
Fast forward to now. I still have a house to keep clean, LOTS of laundry to maintain, and 6 kids schedules to adhere to with public school. Our Baby Bella is no longer in therapy (praise God!) and the only thing we try to do on a regular basis is to attend 1 hour of Library school each week. Sure, there are days of regular doctor appointments, and all the work of keeping a family healthy, happy and clean. But these days, life is much less busy, many less things to keep organized. I find myself wondering what to accomplish next.
That's where the waiting for our new children gets hard. I have read so many books on adoption, international most recently, and attachment issues. I have read blogs, articles and books on how to keep Ethiopian children's hair healthy. I have stocked the nursery with everything functional and am waiting to see who our children will be so I can buy the things they will need. And I am still waiting...
I guess on weeks like these, I should savor the peace, and relish the lack of business. I am slowing down, learning to take deep breaths and see the silver linings. Bella and I do not miss an opportunity to smell the roses.
And on weeks like this, I am so very thankful for the kindergartener that makes us laugh so effortlessly with his "handcuff" comment. Even in waiting and feeling less busy, there is so many ways to see the beauty of each day.
By Saturday night, I realized I had omitted working with Tom and Mere on their regular homework, so we pulled out the book called "Hats" and they both "read" them perfectly. They love their kindergarten teacher, and I can hear her expressive reading when they recount what they are learning.
Part of their homework was to discuss the use of Hats and other things we wear. One question was, "What do we wear on our wrists?" Of course the Princess didn't skip a beat when she said "bracelets!". Tom took a half a second longer and said, matter of factly, "Handcuffs."
It made us laugh out loud. What does our little guy know about handcuffs? Ah, the surprises from little lips!
We have our last home visit with our caseworker this week. Not only are we finishing projects and touching up paint that has been scribbled on (only 3 of them are doing that these days), we are cleaning closets and sorting through the last of the summer clothes and hanging up the winter coats. It is Michigan, so day to day weather is hard to predict.
It seems like such a long year of getting to this point. So much has happened along the way, and yet, it feels some days as if time has been suspended. We try to picture who our Ethiopian born children will be, and wish we were closer than we are to meeting them. I try to be patient, knowing God's great plan will bring it all together in HIS perfect timing, but the very human, mother side of me is anxious to put my babies to sleep in their new room. Having met our newest grandson makes it even more real to believe there are children in Ethio that have lost their family and we need to bridge the gap as soon as possible to them.
We like our caseworker. She is working on her own adoption, so she is sensitive to our emotional journey. This visit she will meet our other children, and form her final opinions about our life, our home, and our plans. She has told us she will recommend us for 2 children, and there is no fear that it will all go smoothly (as possible for an international adoption!!) from here. It's just the waiting that makes it seem almost impossible to bear.
I love a plan. I love knowing when things are going to happen, how it will work out and what I need to do to make it come to fruition. In earlier years it was preparing sunday school classwork, and later on, Vacation Bible School at our home church. That morphed into starting a home cleaning team, and years later,an office position that allowed me to help with managing the office, and helping employees with their benefits. I had clear plans for every day, and time tables I could work with.
Once we started with foster care, most of my plans became dealing with issues "on the fly" while getting kids to counseling, doctor appointments and visitations. I kept a meticulous calendar, and thrived in the business of "doing." When I endeavored to homeschool 6 of our kids, ages 11 to 4, I still found solace in a well kept schedule of events.
Fast forward to now. I still have a house to keep clean, LOTS of laundry to maintain, and 6 kids schedules to adhere to with public school. Our Baby Bella is no longer in therapy (praise God!) and the only thing we try to do on a regular basis is to attend 1 hour of Library school each week. Sure, there are days of regular doctor appointments, and all the work of keeping a family healthy, happy and clean. But these days, life is much less busy, many less things to keep organized. I find myself wondering what to accomplish next.
That's where the waiting for our new children gets hard. I have read so many books on adoption, international most recently, and attachment issues. I have read blogs, articles and books on how to keep Ethiopian children's hair healthy. I have stocked the nursery with everything functional and am waiting to see who our children will be so I can buy the things they will need. And I am still waiting...
I guess on weeks like these, I should savor the peace, and relish the lack of business. I am slowing down, learning to take deep breaths and see the silver linings. Bella and I do not miss an opportunity to smell the roses.
And on weeks like this, I am so very thankful for the kindergartener that makes us laugh so effortlessly with his "handcuff" comment. Even in waiting and feeling less busy, there is so many ways to see the beauty of each day.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Waiting
Waiting.
We traveled to New Jersey to be with our son and his wife for the birth of their third son. We tried to pick a date that would get us there as close as possible to the baby's due date, but we really didn't want to miss his birth. When her contractions seemed fairly regular, we packed the camper as quickly as possible, and headed east.
We arrived, and her contractions stopped immediately. The larger wait began. While we waited, it seemed like a nice vacation with the grandsons and we enjoyed wonderful weather. We surfed, we looked for awesome shells, and Mike even caught a 6 ½ inch blue crab from the Atlantic Ocean. We took a lot of pictures, ate at some pretty cool restaurants, and every evening when we tucked the kids into their home-away-from-home beds, we would encourage our daughter-in-law that “tomorrow we'll have the baby!!”
I was able to go to two doctor appointments, and one we even saw another ultrasound that gave us a wonderful profile picture of our new little grandson. “Soon”, we would say every day.
Finally, on the 13th, we visited the doctor's office again, and dear daughter in law said, “I am ready to have this baby. Today.” With an understanding smile, Doctor said, “Go to the hospital and we'll have that baby today!”
Pa Pa settled in at the camper with all 9 kids (ours, plus 2 grandsons) and we registered mama at the hospital for the delivery. It probably wouldn't take long, this being her 5th day overdue, and her third birth. At 11:00, we were hoping for a quick delivery.
We chatted, laughed, grabbed a fast food lunch (for daddy and gramma!) while mama ate ice chips and drank clear liquids. At 5 pm, she was tired of sitting, baby was taking his time, and Doctor decided to induce labor. As Doc broke her water, started her labor inducing drugs, contractions came on strong. By 6:15, poor mama was begging for the Epidural, and “where is that anesthesiologist anyway?”
By 6:30 the kind man had gotten the injection and catheter inserted in her spine, and relief should have been coming quickly. Instead, baby Keane decided it was definitely time to show up, and mama dilated from 5 to 10 before 7 pm. Epidural was numbing her leg, making the urge to push go away while the pain stayed! Guess who delivered au naturale?
I held her leg, urging her to push and saying stupid things like “you are doing great” and “you can do it!!” when finally, his head appeared, and doc lifted the umbilical cord off his neck twice wrapped, cut it, handed him to the nurse and finished his business.
No cries.
“Why isn't he crying?” mama asked.
My son watches tentatively towards the bassinet that holds his new son, and a collective breath is held by all in the room.
Nurses work quickly and speak softly, one putting tools away as cleaning up the birthing area, while 2 others rub life into a quiet little baby. A squeak, a soft breath, and a slight cry, as the pinkness lightens his body. Suctioning his tiny mouth, every noise allows us to breathe deeper, rest easier.
My son says, “Mom, take pictures!!” I had totally forgotten my place in this birth. Overwhelmed by the process of the miracle taking place this room, at this time, I grabbed my camera and snapped photo after photo of the little life we had waited for nearly this whole year. Why we were so far from home. Who we had known for months by name, and now could learn to love anew upon meeting him for the first time. I touched his hand, thrilled by each cry and breath he took, and looked for all the familiar characteristics that labeled him part of our family, part of us forever.
This is the miracle of life. The waiting for his birth was the hardest part, until we waited for his first breath and his first cry. And now we have to say goodbye until we see him again.
Then a new wait begins.
We traveled to New Jersey to be with our son and his wife for the birth of their third son. We tried to pick a date that would get us there as close as possible to the baby's due date, but we really didn't want to miss his birth. When her contractions seemed fairly regular, we packed the camper as quickly as possible, and headed east.
We arrived, and her contractions stopped immediately. The larger wait began. While we waited, it seemed like a nice vacation with the grandsons and we enjoyed wonderful weather. We surfed, we looked for awesome shells, and Mike even caught a 6 ½ inch blue crab from the Atlantic Ocean. We took a lot of pictures, ate at some pretty cool restaurants, and every evening when we tucked the kids into their home-away-from-home beds, we would encourage our daughter-in-law that “tomorrow we'll have the baby!!”
I was able to go to two doctor appointments, and one we even saw another ultrasound that gave us a wonderful profile picture of our new little grandson. “Soon”, we would say every day.
Finally, on the 13th, we visited the doctor's office again, and dear daughter in law said, “I am ready to have this baby. Today.” With an understanding smile, Doctor said, “Go to the hospital and we'll have that baby today!”
Pa Pa settled in at the camper with all 9 kids (ours, plus 2 grandsons) and we registered mama at the hospital for the delivery. It probably wouldn't take long, this being her 5th day overdue, and her third birth. At 11:00, we were hoping for a quick delivery.
We chatted, laughed, grabbed a fast food lunch (for daddy and gramma!) while mama ate ice chips and drank clear liquids. At 5 pm, she was tired of sitting, baby was taking his time, and Doctor decided to induce labor. As Doc broke her water, started her labor inducing drugs, contractions came on strong. By 6:15, poor mama was begging for the Epidural, and “where is that anesthesiologist anyway?”
By 6:30 the kind man had gotten the injection and catheter inserted in her spine, and relief should have been coming quickly. Instead, baby Keane decided it was definitely time to show up, and mama dilated from 5 to 10 before 7 pm. Epidural was numbing her leg, making the urge to push go away while the pain stayed! Guess who delivered au naturale?
I held her leg, urging her to push and saying stupid things like “you are doing great” and “you can do it!!” when finally, his head appeared, and doc lifted the umbilical cord off his neck twice wrapped, cut it, handed him to the nurse and finished his business.
No cries.
“Why isn't he crying?” mama asked.
My son watches tentatively towards the bassinet that holds his new son, and a collective breath is held by all in the room.
Nurses work quickly and speak softly, one putting tools away as cleaning up the birthing area, while 2 others rub life into a quiet little baby. A squeak, a soft breath, and a slight cry, as the pinkness lightens his body. Suctioning his tiny mouth, every noise allows us to breathe deeper, rest easier.
My son says, “Mom, take pictures!!” I had totally forgotten my place in this birth. Overwhelmed by the process of the miracle taking place this room, at this time, I grabbed my camera and snapped photo after photo of the little life we had waited for nearly this whole year. Why we were so far from home. Who we had known for months by name, and now could learn to love anew upon meeting him for the first time. I touched his hand, thrilled by each cry and breath he took, and looked for all the familiar characteristics that labeled him part of our family, part of us forever.
This is the miracle of life. The waiting for his birth was the hardest part, until we waited for his first breath and his first cry. And now we have to say goodbye until we see him again.
Then a new wait begins.
Friday, October 2, 2009
A Gray Cat
A loud knock on our front door Wednesday night startled the kids and caught Mike off guard. A family stood on our door step, begging help with an injured cat in the road.
Mike hesitated, wondering why they came to our door, as the injured cat was dragging himself across the road nearly 5 houses down from ours. It appears that our porch light was the only one burning on the street that night. The imploring eyes of the child in the family group made Mike grab a laundry basket, tell the littlest ones to stay inside, and took the route to the sad cat in the road. All in his bare feet, mind you.
He sized up the situation, terrified that our own young ones were now standing on our stoop yelling, "Is it OK dad? Did you find the cat?" and he was in the road several homes away, in the 9:00 dark.
He tried to scoop up the animal, who appeared to be full of spite and spitting his anger midst his painful injuries, nearly biting any of the rescuers that got close enough to help. The father of the group said, "Here, let me try." I never got the rest of this part, but someone got the cat into the laundry basket, and the laundry basket ended up in my bathtub.
Mike closed the door to the bathroom, finished putting our little ones to bed, and shortly after 10 checked on the cat that he figured would have passed into cat heaven by now. Nope. It half jumped/dragged its pitiful body out of the basket that was in the bathtub, and spit and clawed it's way to the far back of the corner under our clawfoot tub, as far from Mike as possible.
I swear, hearing this story at 5 am the next morning, looking at the calm cat in the cage, I would never have believed his antics of the night before just by looking at his pitiful eyes. Mike went on to describe how the feral cat had tried attacking him more than once, and he had to fashion a neck strap from an old pole and a USB cable. Quite creative, and he mentioned more than once how he had seen animals captured on the old show, "Wild Kingdom." Or was it "Animal Cops" ???
However it was accomplished, the cat was caught, offered a bowl of milk with some crushed VICODEIN to make him comfortable (or very, very sleepy) and off to animal control in the morning. He refused the milk, but spent the night peacefully in the cage.
I was trying to be sympathetic to what Mike had been through the night before. I was up early to take my mother to the hospital for surgery, and really, I wanted to hear the whole thing. As I left in the early morning darkness, wishing the injured kitty a peaceful day, I told Mike this story was begging to be blogged. He said, "But you don't know how it ended!"
I kissed him goodbye, flippantly throwing over my shoulder, "I am a writer. I will write my own ending."
So now I am at the point of needing to end this story. I would love to say that as he opened the cage, the injured cat came out, full of energy and remorse for what he had put Mike through the night before, completely healed of his injury.
Instead, Mike and Bella took him in the cage to the Animal Shelter, and Mike assured Bella that "they would know exactly what to do for the kitty."
To the others who came home from school at noon, "Kitty has gone on a very long sleep and he is not going to be hurting anymore."
And for me? I was glad I was not home to make the decision. Incidentally, Mom's surgery went well, and the gray cat is just another chapter in our memory book.
Mike hesitated, wondering why they came to our door, as the injured cat was dragging himself across the road nearly 5 houses down from ours. It appears that our porch light was the only one burning on the street that night. The imploring eyes of the child in the family group made Mike grab a laundry basket, tell the littlest ones to stay inside, and took the route to the sad cat in the road. All in his bare feet, mind you.
He sized up the situation, terrified that our own young ones were now standing on our stoop yelling, "Is it OK dad? Did you find the cat?" and he was in the road several homes away, in the 9:00 dark.
He tried to scoop up the animal, who appeared to be full of spite and spitting his anger midst his painful injuries, nearly biting any of the rescuers that got close enough to help. The father of the group said, "Here, let me try." I never got the rest of this part, but someone got the cat into the laundry basket, and the laundry basket ended up in my bathtub.
Mike closed the door to the bathroom, finished putting our little ones to bed, and shortly after 10 checked on the cat that he figured would have passed into cat heaven by now. Nope. It half jumped/dragged its pitiful body out of the basket that was in the bathtub, and spit and clawed it's way to the far back of the corner under our clawfoot tub, as far from Mike as possible.
I swear, hearing this story at 5 am the next morning, looking at the calm cat in the cage, I would never have believed his antics of the night before just by looking at his pitiful eyes. Mike went on to describe how the feral cat had tried attacking him more than once, and he had to fashion a neck strap from an old pole and a USB cable. Quite creative, and he mentioned more than once how he had seen animals captured on the old show, "Wild Kingdom." Or was it "Animal Cops" ???
However it was accomplished, the cat was caught, offered a bowl of milk with some crushed VICODEIN to make him comfortable (or very, very sleepy) and off to animal control in the morning. He refused the milk, but spent the night peacefully in the cage.
I was trying to be sympathetic to what Mike had been through the night before. I was up early to take my mother to the hospital for surgery, and really, I wanted to hear the whole thing. As I left in the early morning darkness, wishing the injured kitty a peaceful day, I told Mike this story was begging to be blogged. He said, "But you don't know how it ended!"
I kissed him goodbye, flippantly throwing over my shoulder, "I am a writer. I will write my own ending."
So now I am at the point of needing to end this story. I would love to say that as he opened the cage, the injured cat came out, full of energy and remorse for what he had put Mike through the night before, completely healed of his injury.
Instead, Mike and Bella took him in the cage to the Animal Shelter, and Mike assured Bella that "they would know exactly what to do for the kitty."
To the others who came home from school at noon, "Kitty has gone on a very long sleep and he is not going to be hurting anymore."
And for me? I was glad I was not home to make the decision. Incidentally, Mom's surgery went well, and the gray cat is just another chapter in our memory book.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Change
In our area, the days are getting much shorter, and the nights grow longer. It's been really COLD today, and windy to boot!! It's the changing seasons that us Michiganders are used to, but change is not always so welcome. Especially when fall is coming before the summer really had much of a chance to evolve fully!
The change from one season to the next always allows me to rethink things. Like the huge boxes of clothes we store from season to season, most of which have been worn more than once by more than one kid, and the majority of it was donated kindly to our family. Some of the things we take out of the boxes have obviously seen better days, and some of it we are just tired of seeing!! Time for a change.
Last year we decided to store our change-of-season-clothing in a different area of the house, to make this whole process easier to manage. Bringing 30 plastic bins out of the basement was getting tougher to handle, so this year we are storing more in the main level of the house for easier access. I will have to report more on the success of that later! I hope it was a change for the good.
As the kids grow and mature at different levels, I am rethinking our sleeping/playing arrangements. Perhaps 2 of the kids who are sharing a room now are not really the best housemates for each other, and another one of the kids may need to be more in the main level so we can help him manage parts of his life better. That Change is needed is obvious, but not always welcome. Change can be hard. Sometimes we resist change because we are comfortable with how things are, even if on a deeper level they just are not working out for the best.
So I am entering another season of change. I am trying to be sympathetic to what really needs to be changed, versus, am I just seeking something new? I think I like change, but mostly if I am the one who benefits from it. IE: It's my idea.
I have a child who resists change. Even if it's the best possible option for him, and will give him the best opportunities. I want to plead his cause, help him "see the light." I want to "make" him change. And then I sit back and ponder just how little I am really able to "make" anyone one change - especially if they just dont' want to.
I mean, I can change living arrangements, I can change bedtimes. I can change diets, and I can change alot of other outward conditions. But where I think he needs to change comes from the inside out, and that is an area I just can not touch, no matter how much I believe he needs it, and how much better his life would be if he made those changes.
So the windy, darker days ahead signal change is in the air. It's in the house, in our clothes and in our schedules. It's all around us. But sometimes the change that needs the most attention is the one inside our selves. The very core of who we are may need a makeover. And not matter how much I want it, I just can not do it for someone else. I wish I could. And I wonder what change I may be resisting in my inner most being? Are you resisting change too?
The change from one season to the next always allows me to rethink things. Like the huge boxes of clothes we store from season to season, most of which have been worn more than once by more than one kid, and the majority of it was donated kindly to our family. Some of the things we take out of the boxes have obviously seen better days, and some of it we are just tired of seeing!! Time for a change.
Last year we decided to store our change-of-season-clothing in a different area of the house, to make this whole process easier to manage. Bringing 30 plastic bins out of the basement was getting tougher to handle, so this year we are storing more in the main level of the house for easier access. I will have to report more on the success of that later! I hope it was a change for the good.
As the kids grow and mature at different levels, I am rethinking our sleeping/playing arrangements. Perhaps 2 of the kids who are sharing a room now are not really the best housemates for each other, and another one of the kids may need to be more in the main level so we can help him manage parts of his life better. That Change is needed is obvious, but not always welcome. Change can be hard. Sometimes we resist change because we are comfortable with how things are, even if on a deeper level they just are not working out for the best.
So I am entering another season of change. I am trying to be sympathetic to what really needs to be changed, versus, am I just seeking something new? I think I like change, but mostly if I am the one who benefits from it. IE: It's my idea.
I have a child who resists change. Even if it's the best possible option for him, and will give him the best opportunities. I want to plead his cause, help him "see the light." I want to "make" him change. And then I sit back and ponder just how little I am really able to "make" anyone one change - especially if they just dont' want to.
I mean, I can change living arrangements, I can change bedtimes. I can change diets, and I can change alot of other outward conditions. But where I think he needs to change comes from the inside out, and that is an area I just can not touch, no matter how much I believe he needs it, and how much better his life would be if he made those changes.
So the windy, darker days ahead signal change is in the air. It's in the house, in our clothes and in our schedules. It's all around us. But sometimes the change that needs the most attention is the one inside our selves. The very core of who we are may need a makeover. And not matter how much I want it, I just can not do it for someone else. I wish I could. And I wonder what change I may be resisting in my inner most being? Are you resisting change too?
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