23 Days In

Our little dude is 23 days old, which means we've been at this parenting thing for just as long. I have a lot of thoughts rolling around in my head and heart, but if I had to guess, little man's nap is going to come to an abrupt end sooner than I'd like. So, for now, this is a scattering of pictures and thoughts I don't want to forget. 

I've spent lots of time reflecting on Nolan's birth, and Adam and I are to the point where we can joke about parts of it. But I still can get teary when I remember the fear of the vacuum not working or causing damage and the relief of hearing Nolan's scream. But Adam and I remember with great fondness the nurses who took care of us after Nolan was born. Tammy and Connie were our favorites, and I remember wanting to cry as Tammy hugged as bye as we left the hospital. As we were preparing to discharge, she looked at us and said, "You guys are going to be good parents. I can tell." 

My parents are AMAZING!!! The whole time they were here, they gave and gave and gave. I didn't cook a single meal, do any dishes, or run any errands. It was delightful! They were such a blessing. They saw needs we had and filled them before we even knew they existed. There were times when I would feel guilty for all they were doing, but in my 23 days of parenting, I now understand that I'd do ANYTHING for Nolan to make his life better. It gave me a little bit of an idea of how much my parents love me. 

In the first few days of being home with Nolan, it took me some time to believe that Nolan actually preferred me over anyone else. When he was crying in someone else's arms, a simple transfer to my arms could calm Nolan down. This was unreal to me. 

Adam and I have always loved the weekends. But NOW I love them even more. I just love having Adam home on Saturday and Sunday to hang out with me and Nolan. I love how many times I see Adam staring at Nolan and commenting on how handsome he is. I love listening to Adam sing to Nolan as he rocks him for his naps. And I love that I'm guaranteed a shower! :) 

This guy has changed our world in the past 23 days. I live my days in 3 hour cycles, just like he does. We think about what's best for Nolan all. the. time. Adam drives like he's carrying the most valuable thing in the world, and he is!! Each night, as we're going through Nolan's bedtime routine, we thank God for entrusting Nolan into our care. I know Nolan is ultimately the Lord's, and I'm so, so grateful that He's chosen us to be Nolan's parents. 

Lastly, sometimes when we unswaddle Nolan, this is how we find him. And it makes us laugh. 

Nolan

This post is incredibly long, and it's the story of my baby's birth. I don't expect anyone to survive the narrative, but it was important that I get this out. 



My kiddo is asleep right now. I have a baby boy. Crazy. And so unbelievably amazing. I am in awe at this little guy who has completely changed our worlds. 

Before I get too much into the awesomeness of Nolan, I did want to write out the events of last week. Adam and I are still processing it, and I know this will help me a little bit. 

At the beginning of last week, I e-mailed my family asking them to pray for 2 specific things. The first being that Nolan would be born on the weekend. I had picked Friday, July 19th, but clarified that I would be happy with any weekend day because of the issues with our commutes. I then asked for them to pray for a specific midwife to be on call to help bring Nolan into the world. 

On Wednesday, I woke up with some mild but uncomfortable stomach pain. It felt like I had gas, and within an hour, I realized there was a rhythm to the pain I was feeling. I figured they were just Braxton Hicks contractions and continued on with my morning. As time passed, the contractions continued, I passed my mucus plug, and I begin to wonder if maybe this baby was going to be ready to come soon. 

I had my 39 week check with the midwives that afternoon at 12:45, so I hoped I would get good news from them. When I got in the car to go to the appointment, my contractions calmed down, and I assumed that meant more waiting. My appointment confirmed that I was 85% effaced and 2 cm dilated. The midwife said I could be close but not to get my hopes up. It was at this point that Adam and I started realizing that we were going to meet our baby soon. I came home and took a nap. Hindsight: this nap needed to be much, much longer! 

When I woke up, I realized I was having consistent pain in my back now. There was no stomach pain, but it was happening with rhythm just like the morning. These contractions were mild, but they hurt more than the morning ones did. By the time Adam came home, contractions were less than 10 minutes apart, and they were growing with intensity. I took a shower, which felt so great, and then we tried to go to sleep. There was just no way for me to lay down through these contractions. I had to be on all fours, bent over, or squatted down to get through them. I was working really hard to focus on relaxing and letting my body do what it needed to do to get this baby out. 

Adam woke up for work at 6, and I had been out in the family room all night working through the contractions. I couldn't sleep, and I didn't want to wake Adam up. After watching me for a few minutes, I asked him to not go to work because I was in so much pain and maybe the baby was coming. Starting around 7:00am, my contractions were 5 minutes apart and lasting almost a minute. We did this for over 2 hours. I'd get a contraction, hit all fours, and Adam would rub my back through the pain and talk me through it. My goal was to deliver naturally, so I was trying to hold off going to the hospital until it was necessary. I took multiple showers, went on walks, and paced our apartment pretty much all day on Thursday. The contractions lost their consistency around 11am after I had thrown up multiple times. I was still having contractions, but they were 7-8 minutes apart instead of 5 minutes or less. 

I managed to take an hour long nap on Thursday, and I woke up feeling so frustrated and discouraged. I felt terribly that I had asked Adam to stay home from work. I didn't understand why my body was hurting so badly, yet I wasn't convinced I was having this baby any time soon. Thursday night looked a lot like Wednesday night. I fought through contractions all night long in the family room while Adam slept. I took multiple hot showers, and I just prayed and prayed for some sleep. I was realizing that my exhaustion was growing, and if I didn't get some sleep, there's no way I would be able to deliver this baby naturally. 

As I stood in the shower in the middle of the night, I tried to come to terms with the fact that my desire for a natural delivery might not happen. I felt so disappointed in myself, but I thought maybe I could still pull it off. At 4am, I woke Adam up because the contractions were so painful, I couldn't get through them without help. I needed him emotionally and physically, but I was trying to let him sleep as long as possible. From 4-6am, I had consistent contractions, 5 minutes apart that were growing in intensity, and I thought for sure this baby was coming! I threw up a couple of times, and again my body started to lose the consistency. I was still having them, just not 5 minutes on the dot. 

I decided that Adam could go to work because I didn't want to be responsible for him missing another day only to have no baby all over again. So, all day Friday I powered through contractions. I kept taking hot showers. I walked all over the apartment. I was just wanting to make it to Adam coming home, so I could go get checked by the midwife on call. 

Around 5 on Friday afternoon, I started feeling not well, and I was concerned something was happening with the baby. We decided to go to the hospital to get checked. I honestly couldn't even let myself HOPE that we'd get to stay. We brought our bags just in case, but I was emotionally prepared to be sent home. My contractions were hurting so badly in the car, as all of the pain in all of my contractions was in my low back. Sitting in the car through the contractions was awful. 

Upon arriving at the hospital, we learned I was 4 cm dilated, and I was definitely going to be admitted. By 8pm, we were in my labor and delivery room ready to tackle this thing. Adam looked at the clock and said, "Maybe you'll have this baby on the 19th after all." I told him that I doubted it, but the 20th would be just fine.

For the next 5 hours, I went through what felt like circuit training. I'd do some contractions in the rocking chair, some on the birthing ball that was shaped like a peanut, some hunched over the railing, and some in the tub. I walked the halls; I was constantly on the move, wanting to get this baby down as low as possible. At 1am, I asked to be checked, and I was at 7cm dilated. They were thrilled with my progress, and I was frustrated. So, the circuit training increased. We had pandora on, and I was determined that we could have this baby naturally. 

At 2:45, I asked my mom to send a text to get people to pray that I would be fully dilated and allowed to push the next time I got checked. I cannot explain the exhaustion that had taken over my body at this point. Our bodies. Adam was exhausted. He'd try to sleep for the 3 minutes in between contractions and then hop into action massaging my back or supporting me while I stood and swayed. But I was losing steam. At this point, I was walking around our room, talking to Nolan (and myself), coaching both of us to keep going. I was positive that we were ready to push. 

Around 3:45, I got checked, and I was at 9cm dilated. The midwife offered to break my water to help me get to 10. I nearly screamed, "YES!" at her. Every time I got checked, they'd have to go super quick because laying down was excruciatingly painful on my back during contractions. I hopped off the table, and I went into "go mode" to get this baby to 10 cm. Let me pause here to say, I fully believed Adam and I could do this, but I knew I was beginning to lose it. I can't explain the fatigue, the exhaustion, the pain that was over taking my body. I hadn't had real sleep in so long, and my body was ridiculously tired. 

The midwives and nurses were determined to help me power through this final centimeter. I was doing side lunges on a stool during contractions to try to get to the final mark. I was doing squats. This was the most physically taxing thing I'd ever done, and it was this point that I started to doubt my ability to finish. I got checked, and there was no progress. But I got up and did another hour of labor, trying to be ready to push. I can remember sitting in the tub, nearly asleep in between contractions, feeling like defeat was around the corner.

After I mustered everything I had, I asked for one more check because SURELY FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD I was ready to go. But there had been no progress, yet again. At this point, I nearly fell apart. Why couldn't my body keep going? I told Adam that I needed help. That I couldn't do it. I was literally being held up by his strength at this point, and I just couldn't make it. The midwives and nurses wanted to see me successfully deliver naturally, so they'd been working so hard to help me. I felt like they were bummed to hear me say I needed an epdiural, which I was already disappointed with myself, so I didn't need to see their bummed out looks as well. 

I knew that realistically, I wasn't going to be able to even lay on the bed to push with the amount of pain I was experiencing in my back. And I just had no juice left. I had been having contractions since Wednesday, and it was now Saturday morning. 

I got the epidural, and right away, the nurses asked me to just rest so I would have strength to push. Adam fell asleep almost immediately. They decided to monitor my contractions, and they soon realized that my uterus was having a hard time keeping up at this point, too. They decided to put me on pitocin to help. The midwife I asked my family to pray to be on staff came on at 8am on Saturday. I was relieved to see her face, and she immediately offered her compassion for what I just endured. 

She warned me that they were concerned that I was going to have to have a c-section because something was not happening right. After upping my pitocin, I FINALLY reached 10cm. They were still concerned for Nolan, so they told me that I would be allowed to push; however, if things didn't progress, they'd be moving me to the operating room. Talk about disappointing. Not only did I have to get the epidural. NOW they're talking about a c-section. I felt...nearly crushed. And I didn't understand why my body wasn't doing what it was supposed to do. I'm a woman-- God designed me to do this!! 

The midwife was confident I could push, and we got set up to push. After an hour of pushing, the OB came and tried to help move Nolan down. But nothing was working. She told me she had to go do a c-section, and if Nolan wasn't out when she got back, I'd be getting a c-section too. For the next two hours, I pushed and pushed and pushed, but Nolan wasn't coming. They could see him, but he was having a hard time moving past my pelvic bone. I started noticing I was in pain again, and Adam realized that my epidural drip was disconnected. The medicine was just dripping on the floor. We had to get the doctor who put it in to come back to fix it. But at this point, the OB was back, and she told me I had 2 options. She could use the vacuum for 2 rounds of contractions, and if I couldn't push him out, we would move to c-section right away. OR I could just go straight to the c-section. She was confident I could push him out, but I was NOT! Nothing else had been working right, why would this?! 

Adam and I had 2 minutes to decide, and we decided to try one final time to push. She gave us the risks, and then got set up to try to bring Nolan out. Let me pause to say, I was extremely uneasy about this. But the midwife I liked told me she thought I could do it, and so I went for it. I was extremely exhausted AGAIN. Pushing for 3 hours was incredibly taxing. 

When everyone was in position, and when I say everyone, I mean they called in an ARMY for this. There were 3 people there from NICU to deal with Nolan because of the risks. The OB who would perform the delivery, 2 midwives, and then probably 5 additional nurses all ready to pounce if something went wrong.

I knew I only had 3-6 pushes to get him out, so I was mentally, physically, and emotionally gearing up to get him out. After 3 pushes with the vacuum, the OB took the vacuum off his head, and told me it was going to be up to me to get him out NOW. So, I pushed with everything I had, and she was able to pull Nolan out. They placed him on me for .2 seconds, and then whisked him off to make sure he was okay. 

Within minutes the placenta delivered, and then what do you know, my uterus stopped working. I started hemorrhaging. I could feel the blood pouring out of my body, and the nurses moving in chaos to stop it. People were pouncing on my stomach, stabbing me with shots, giving me IVs, etc. Everything was happening so quickly, but you could sense the urgency in the room. Adam was at my face, holding my hand, and I had this quick moment of panic. What if this was about to turn further south real fast? I tried with desperation to be able to see Nolan, everything was happening so quickly. Adam looked terrified, and I felt helpless. 

They got things under control, started stitching me up from my 3rd degree tear, and they kept assuring me that the baby was GREAT. He looked perfectly healthy, and the vacuum did not have any affect on him at all. I was crying this whole time on the table, and Adam was at my side, assuring me everything was ok. I think he was trying to convince himself at that point. 

They finally brought me Nolan even though they were still working on stabilizing me, and I felt a huge sense of relief. I had my baby in arms, and he was fine. Adam was with me. We were going to be okay. 

This was what Adam likes to call the best and worst moments of his life. 

That night, Adam told me he was more than willing to get a vasectomy the next day because he didn't know if he could ever do this again. He still feels that way.

When we were alone in our hospital room with our baby boy that night, I wanted to shake what we just went through and enjoy my new family. I reached over to grab Adam's hand, and together we prayed for our little boy Nolan. We thanked God for what went right and trust that the stuff that went wrong would make us grow closer together. I'm thankful that God answered my requests for the weekend I wanted and the midwife I wanted was on call by the time Nolan came. 

It Takes A Village

Well, we did it. We moved this weekend. I'm currently sitting on the floor in our old apartment doing laundry, since our new place has no working machines right now. We have until July 26th to be completely out, so this is our laundry solution for now. 

We're still exhausted, and we're not finished quite yet.

But if it weren't for lots of people who love us, we'd be a far, far cry from the finish line at this point. 

The transformation that our new space underwent in the past week is pretty astounding. Last Sunday, Adam and I were cleaning and prepping to paint our new place with the help of one of my cheer families. I coached both of their girls, but I don't currently coach either of them because they have both graduated. That's love! These girls were in the kitchen literally scrubbing the walls of the refrigerator, hauling trash, etc. I didn't take pictures of what it looked like last week because it was just so unpleasant. But now I wish I had. 

Their dad was putting trim on windows, repairing holes in the walls, replacing faucets, and the list just goes on. And it was 87 degrees INSIDE our place with no air conditioning. People, this was a labor of love! 

The next day, I had 2 more cheer alumni and 1 current girl come help me paint Henry's room. Again, in the heat (but not as hot). The next day my JV coach helped with the main room. 

And this is how the week went. I'd spend half my day working at our current apartment, and then drive to our new place to work there until well after dinner. Adam would join me after work, as would our "designer" and "contractor" as we like to call the couple helping us. 

Saturday our friends helped us move everything, unpack probably half our boxes, and set up the new place. And yesterday the designer and one of her daughters were back to make our space feel like home. She has her own business doing interior decorating, and her passion is making a house feel like a home. She offered her services simply because she wanted to bless us. 

Let me tell you this- our space is not glamorous. It's an apartment over a garage/storage unit. But after the house fairies left yesterday, I can confidently say that I've never lived in a more inviting and home-feeling space (other than my parents' house). Henry's room and our room are still a work in progress, but the kitchen and family room are perfect. As she and her daughter were working, I said, "For the first time since I moved out here, I actually want to invite people over! It's so pretty in here!" The look on her face when I said that-- priceless! 

And right there in that moment, she spoke right to my heart. She explained that she wanted to gift this to me because this house, our home, is my ministry space. And it's not just about raising Henry. She affirmed our marriage and encouraged me to let people into our home to be a part of what God's doing in us. 

It could be that I'm 38 weeks pregnant and overly tired, but I wanted to cry. This family has put in A LOT of time, energy, and money in our apartment. Each time she came, she'd come with some sort of decoration to add to our house. They spent a portion of her husband's bonus check on making our place look homey. That's humbling. It's been unreal to watch this family give and give (one of their daughters is also working on canvases to hang in Henry's room that are ADORABLE!).

Two more of my cheer alumni are bringing us dinner this week. The outpouring feels unending. We really would not be where we are right now if it weren't for lots of people giving of themselves. 

We're a long, long ways from home right now, but God has certainly filled in the gaps. There are so many people cheering us on, and it's sometimes overwhelming. 

Adam

Our little guy is coming this month (He is coming this month. He will not be born in August). My due date is 20 days away, but everyone's telling me to expect to go longer. We'll see. 

I'm so very excited to meet Henry, but I'm also so very aware that the number of days of just me and Adam are rapidly shrinking. The season of just the two of us felt so brief. We dated 7 months before being engaged for 5 months, only to be married for 10 months before getting pregnant. That feels fast. I'm confident that adding Henry to our family will be one of the best days of our lives. But I'm still going to enjoy the final weeks of just me and Adam. 

Adam doing an amazing job celebrating my 25th birthday!

There's been a lot to love in the past 2.5 years, and there's been a lot of growing for both of us. But I'm confident of this: Adam is going to be a fantastic dad. This pregnancy has been not what I expected, but Adam has been so much more than I could've ever hoped for. His support, encouragement, and confidence in me has been unwavering. His love for our little boy has grown with each week, and he says on an almost daily basis, "I just love your belly!" (to which I want to roll my eyes every time)

I remember the night I took the pregnancy test, I was sure that I was pregnant. We had just come back from a weekend trip to Portland, and I just knew that I was pregnant. I can remember not wanting to pee on the stick because I knew that our lives would never be the same once I did. I even asked Adam if we could wait a couple of days. But if you know my husband, that was not going to happen!! So, I did the deed, and we waited. When we walked into the bathroom, there was no doubting it: I was pregnant. I can remember cry-laughing as I looked at Adam's stunned face. He sat down on the toilet, mouth open, in true shock. I didn't want to lose control of my emotions, but I had to ask, "Are you mad?" 

And I'll never forget his response.

"Am I mad?? No, I'm not mad! I get to be a dad! We're going to have a baby!" 

He pulled me onto his lap and held me close, and I felt my panic wash away. 

Found out later this day that we were pregnant.

Now, over the course of the next few days Adam did need to say over and over and over and over again, "You're pregnant!" As if saying it out loud made it more true. 

By the time our 20 week ultrasound rolled around, Adam was mostly adjusted to the idea of being a dad, and he was so ready to know if we were going to welcome a son or a daughter this summer. He swears he was going to be happy with a boy or a girl, but when the nurse told us our baby was in fact a boy, there was no denying the joy on that man's face. His eyes welled up with tears, and he whispered, "I'm going to have a son." I can remember looking at him and being a little taken back by how much it meant to me to see him so excited. 

That night Adam gave Henry one of his frequent talks. "Henry, I love you. I'm proud of you, and that won't ever change. I'm going to teach you to be a man and do man-things. It's going to be great!" 

Our trip to Haiti that highlighted our differences and made me fall more in love with Adam.

And now, in a very stressful time, Adam has continued to be my rock, my best friend, and my biggest fan. He urged me to leave my job, so I could stay home with Henry, knowing that the way we live would change dramatically. He's supported my desire to continue coaching, and I feel he is very much a part of that ministry with me. He works hard all day then comes home to work more on our new apartment or packing up the current one. He rubs my swollen feet and enables my addiction to watermelon. He holds me in the night when I wake up with bad dreams and laughs with me through most of our time together. He goes with me to dinners with my preschoolers and grad parties for my seniors. This man does so much for our family, and I cannot/do not express my gratitude enough. 

At Edmond's Beach when my family came to visit.

Even though the time of "just us" was rather brief, I am so excited to continue on this journey with Adam. I know there are inevitably rough days ahead, and I imagine the transition from 2 or 3 won't be seamless. But I'm so, so glad Adam's the person I'm doing life with. He may not know how to change a diaper or swaddle a baby, but he's going to be a great dad (and he'll learn those things very soon). He knows how to love selflessly, give of himself generously, and let's be honest- he's one of the funniest people I know. 

Our wedding day

I don't know what the road ahead of us is going to look like, but with Adam at my side, I'm feeling alright. 

Henry, you're coming so soon, and your dad and I cannot wait to hold you in our arms. We talk about you and to you all. the. time. You have one heck of a dad, my littlest love. I hope you grow up to be just like him. Ok...not just like him because his driving still scares me. We already love you more than you'll ever know. Stay comfy in there for a couple more weeks. We need to get a few more things done!! So excited to meet you, little man. 

July 15, 2011- the day we got engaged. Almost 2 years later to the day (possibly) we'll welcome our first baby!  

The Baby Bump

People warned me. But when I was in the early stages of pregnancy, I was feeling so sick that I couldn't really take in the warnings. I was just wanting to get past the stage of throwing up right before bed only to throw up right after I woke up. 

But now this "baby bump" is my reality. People stare- as if they've never seen a pregnant woman before. They ask questions. They touch my stomach. It's been bizarre to experience the lack of boundaries people have just because I'm pregnant. 

Most people's comments are nice, but sometimes they're not. I'm sure my pregnant self is less tolerant than my non-pregnant self when it comes to people speaking without thinking. Someone asked me a few weeks ago, "Are you sure there's not two in there??" WHY WOULD YOU ASK ME THAT?!?! What I just heard was, "You are so large and elephant-like that the only possible explanation for your stomach is that there are multiple babies in there!" Thank you. From the bottom of my pregnant heart, thank you.

To be honest, my growing bump has been something that's been both exciting and exasperating. I love feeling this kid move so much. I love watching my stomach move as he moves. I love that my belly is a safe place for Henry to grow. Sometimes he feels so close to the surface of my tummy that I feel like the only thing keeping me from touching my baby is one very thin layer of skin. 

But there are things that I do not love about my always growing bump. I can't reach my toes anymore. Rolling over in bed is just a challenge. I'm always hot. Always. 

For a while I just plain did not like looking in the mirror. I was constantly aware of other pregnant girls who are much smaller than me. Or much bigger than me. I feel like I was constantly looking around at others to either reassure myself that I wasn't that bad or guilt trip myself because "so-and-so" still runs 4 miles everyday {which is mind boggling to this exhausted pregnant person}. 

And then I got tired of it all.

Last time I was at the doctor's office, I didn't even look at the scale when I weighed in because I didn't want to know anymore. What matters to me is that Henry is growing at the correct rate, even if I personally am ahead of the curve. 

For the most part, I've embraced my baby bump. I'm going to get bigger in the next 6-7 weeks. I know that. And I'm okay with it. Because I honestly love that I get to be this baby's mom. I cannot wait to meet him. He's worth the expanded figure and inconveniences of pregnancy. 

I had a preschooler's mom come up to me before school one day and tell me that her daughter was talking about me one day. She said to her mom, "Mrs. Tomberlin is the most beautiful ever. I know it's because of that baby in her tummy!" 

Let me assure you that is so far from how I feel on a daily basis. But I do think there is great beauty in this baby bump. I'm carrying new life inside of me. As the weeks pass on, the thrill of this little guy grows and grows- just like my belly. And I do like that. 

It's JUNE!!!

We can officially say our baby is coming next month. Well...he's due next month, and I'm believing that I won't be 12 days late to push us into August. I don't really have cohesive, deep thoughts right now. Just tidbits of our reality. 

:: I have 2 weeks of school left. TWO WEEKS!!

:: I've had 3 baby showers, and we have so. much. stuff. I really don't think it's all necessary, but I guess I'll soon find out.

:: Our little man moves around so stinkin' much. I love feeling him, but sometimes it feels like he's karate kicking me likes he's trying to bust out of there. 

:: It's getting harder and harder to keep his name under wraps. We have to be so careful and so intentional about calling him Henry. It's taking a lot of brain power, and I'm really nervous I'm going to slip. 

:: Our house is a disaster, and I don't think it's going to get much better until we move. I'm thankful my mom is coming in a few weeks to help us pack up. 

:: Teacher Appreciation Week and 2 of my 3 baby showers all happened within 2 weeks of each other. Basically, I'll be writing thank you notes until school gets out.

Here are some of my favorite things we've gotten over the past few months.

At my baby shower given by my cheerleaders, I received probably every tiger outfit that's out there. But I really love this one. And it's a newborn size, so unless Henry is ginormous, he'll wear this as many times as possible before he grows out of it. Which, if he's as big as I was when I was born (9lbs, 9oz), then he won't get much use out of it. 

One of the moms of my students made this blanket, and I love it. There's a lot of different textures around the edges, and I just love the colors on it. So cute!

Also from one of my cheerleaders. I don't necessarily love this outfit, but guess who does. Yes, that would be my husband. It came with athletic pants, too. 

A teacher at school gave me this, saying it would be acceptable for him to wear to chapel on Thursdays. 

And last but not least...

We got another painting to add to our collection!! My sweet friend who painted one for our wedding also did one for baby Henry. How cute is this?! I love it so much. Adam's comment on it was, "I think Julia's noticed my weight gain. Look how much rounder I am!" Regardless, I love this painting so much.

Can I just say how awesome my husband is? When we first found out I was pregnant, I asked him to gain weight with me, so we could work out together after the baby and both be motivated to lose weight. He's been great and happy to oblige. But I know I'm going to really dislike his workouts in the fall. But come on...what a labor of love! 

7 weeks until Henry is due. 5 weeks until we move. 3 weeks until cheer camp. 2 weeks of school left. 

Let's do this. 

This Isn't Easy

I'm 28 weeks pregnant, in the 3rd trimester, and feeling somewhat whale-like. I can't believe my belly is going to continue to grow for roughly 12 more weeks.  Whereas I definitely want Henry to keep growing, I'd like to personally stop growing. 

At our check-up on Wednesday, we found out Henry is/was head down, and I'm measuring great. I only gained 2.5 pounds from 23 to 27 weeks. Before you give me a high five, I got a stomach virus that severely impacted my weight gain this past month. Nonetheless, I felt victorious, but I'm expecting a depressing number next month. 

That's my pregnancy update.

A few weeks ago, Adam and I went to Babies R Us to register because my cheerleaders were throwing me a shower. We were kind of following the guide they gave us, kind of not. At least when we were registering for our wedding, we had a general idea of what we wanted and needed. But we've never done this parenting thing before, so we just did our best. 

As we've talked through what we've felt like we need for this baby, we both have been trying to keep things to a minimum. We don't want oodles and oodles of baby stuff. We aren't going to go buy new furniture for him. We're not going to go crazy on his nursery. Not because we don't want to but because we just don't know how much longer we'll be here. And accumulating a lot of stuff is just more stuff for us to either get rid of or pack up and move. 

Adam sat down in a chair at the store and had a moment with me. This feeling of Seattle not being home is getting old. Knowing that we want to leave sometime soon makes staying filled with tension. As badly as Adam wants to have a house and a place that is definitely ours, we don't want that place to be here. 

We miss our friends. We miss our families. We miss being known. I've been reflecting on why certain aspects of life have seemed harder than before. Pursuing Jesus alongside of others seems easier. Engaging the community around me seems easier when I'm doing it with others who are driven by the same desire to see Jesus's reign known here on Earth. Believing in faith with others is life giving and contagious. 

And that's just not the world we live in right now. But it can be.

Since we're going to be moving this summer, we're probably going to move churches in hopes of gaining community that is more contextual for us. We want people we can do life with while we're here. We're not giving up yet!!

On a positive note, we're so excited to see our boy (at the end of July!). I really want to see his sweet face and hold him. I want to kiss his cheeks and pinch his booty. I'm curious if he'll be as active outside of my belly as he is inside. Because the kid moves SO. MUCH. I cannot wait to see Adam with his son. I think I might dissolve into a puddle as I watch him hold his boy. 

Also. The boy has a name. It will remain a secret until he arrives, but it's nice that we've finally agreed on something. 

Here's some pictures of our recent trip to the Tulip Festival just an hour north of where we live.

It was kind of insane!! The colors were amazing, and tulips were EVERYWHERE! 

And...I'm 28 weeks pregnant.