Hello and Happy Birthday!

Two weeks and not a peep from me on my blog . . . this has got to be a record. :) A sad one. Just going to drop a VERY quick little update - as I've got two kids in the tub saying that they're finished and a birthday party to plan.

We've been without internet, other than our phones, for the past couple of weeks. BUT. We are here. We are doing well. We are slowly getting settled in and adjusting to our new lives.

Two weeks ago tomorrow, we packed up a U-Haul trailer, our van, the essentials of our lives, our five children, and drove to Sandpoint, Idaho. To a hotel for two days -- because apparently property management companies aren't open on Saturdays? Weird. The girls were all champions the whole drive. Nels was in the van with three of them squished in the front seat - pulling a full load in the van and the trailer - and I drove the car with my Mama, Clara, and one of the older girls. We made the trip with very few stops, driving about 60 mph (that trailer was HEAVY), and almost no crying. It was a miracle sent to us by a graceful God.  Thank you, Children. I know that you won't remember that trip . . . but thank you.

We . . . . oh, darn it. I really want to record more . . . like the awesome first impression we made in our new ward and how I feel about living in 1100 square feet with five children, but alas, the naked ones are calling and will soon be screaming and dumping water all over the bathroom floor if I don't hustle.

I will be back to record the rest -- and it will be long, no doubt. But until then, I just wanted to let you all know that we made it. We're doing well. AND . . .

 . . . eight years ago today, I became a mother. What a beautiful day, in a beautiful new place, with my beautiful family. It's going to be wonderful. Today I get the opportunity to see my beautiful daughter enter the waters of baptism with her father. And come out clean and pure as she did this day eight years ago. To see her take a sacred step toward eternal life in her Father's kingdom.

I am so proud of you, Hazel. I love you with all of my heart. Happy Birthday, Hazie!

Everyday it's a gettin' closer, goin' faster than a roller coaster . . .

I feel like I'm in mourning. For the life that we are leaving. For the friends that we are leaving. For the time with our families that will be a thing of the past. 

As I picked up Violet (my sweet little girl who has had far less attention than she has needed the past couple weeks) to tuck her into bed tonight I started sobbing. Realizing that this would be the last time I would tuck my babies into their beds in this home. In "this life". Tomorrow night will not be the same. The beds will be packed. The house will be ready to leave.

I don't feel prepared for this. For any of this. I had a baby two weeks ago. I should be laying in bed watching episodes of old tv shows while I snuggle my new baby and enjoy the new dynamic of our family with my wonderful husband and my sweet chickies surrounding me. Not packing my kitchen and sorting clothes. Not "staging" our home. Not leaving. 

I don't feel ready to close this chapter of our lives.

Just a Glimpse

I was just going to write about how much I love lazy Saturday mornings.

How much I love that with our east-facing windows, the sun comes shining so beautifully into our bedroom in the morning. With our yellow walls, to me, it's heavenly. (Nels would disagree...he's allergic to morning sunshine.)

And then I realized that this morning was the last lazy Saturday morning with the sun shining heavenly on my yellow bedroom walls that I will probably ever have in this home. And it's over. {tears}

I'm really glad that I captured a blurry, little glimpse of heaven this morning with the camera . . .

Rollercoaster

At the end of July I wrote:

June was over before I could even catch my breath. July feels like it was a blur of stress and tiredness, interspersed with a few select moments of perfection. I have a feeling that August is going to feel like a tornado.

Well. If August was a tornado, September is shaping up to be a rollercoaster. The "exciting" kind that has that long, long, long build up . . . up, up, up forever {it seems} and then all of a sudden, you're hanging on the pinnacle - momentarily hanging downward - before WHOOSH! And you're off! Upside-down, around sharp curves. You keep telling yourself that you're having fun, but the truth is, you're TERRIFIED! After you finally get off, you look around at those you rode with and think, "That was fun? Right!? Yeah, yeah. That was FUN!"

I think right now, I'm "supposed" to be having fun.

I'm on that slow build up.

I'm thinking, "I waited a long time for this. I'm excited?" and "What the heck was I THINKING?!"

The drop is coming. I can see it just up ahead and really? I'm just plain scared.

I'm so glad that Nels can still feel the excitement, because all I can think about is plunging to my death.

The plan has been to send Nels up to Sandpoint on his own. Rent a tiny studio apartment for a month or two until the house sells and then we'll all move up into a home together.

Last week {four days after having a baby} Nels and I drove up to Sandpoint with Clara to take a look at houses and find something suitable for him to live in temporarily. After all, I wasn't really planning on going back up there before we were ready to go ahead and buy a house, so it'd be best if we had a chance to look at our options. It was a good trip. Very informative. And really good to again see the place that is going to be our home - since I'd only been there once before.

As we drove home Thursday evening, I cried most of the 500 miles. I would look at Nels and suddenly tears would be streaming down my face. And I realized the truth. No matter how much I have learned to do without Nels around the past four+ years, I am not as independent as I think I am. I need him a lot more than I've admitted. I can do things on my own. I can run our home. I can take care of our children. I can cook dinner and keep up on laundry and clean -- even if he's not going to be around to see it.

But it's always with an end in mind. There's always a deadline. It's always temporary. And I usually at least get to see him on occasion --- even if it's just for lunch.

But for him to be 7 or more hours away? Hundreds of $$$ in gas?

He would miss the first months of our new baby's life. He would miss Clara as a newborn altogether. He would miss Hazel's 8th birthday. He would miss Elsie's 4th birthday. I would be adjusting to 5 children --- all on my own. While he sat bored every night, with nothing to do but watch TV or edit videos, I would be running ragged with five little children to care for and a house to keep in order for the potential last-minute "can we come look at your house?"

And beyond any of that - any of the work - Nels is my best friend. Every time I would think of him leaving us, my heart felt like it was literally breaking. He's been busy at times. He's been gone for work at times. He's worked endless days that I don't see him. But we've never REALLY been apart. When he's gone, I feel like I'm just holding my breath until he comes back home to me.

And all of that would continue - not for two weeks, not for six weeks. Until the elusive "house sells." Indeterminate and {what feels} insurmountable.

Limbo.

So Thursday morning I made a decision.

We're going. We're going to pack up our beds, our clothes, our essentials - and we're going to leave. When I called and told Nels, I thought he might jump through the phone and kiss me - he was so happy.

We'll find a tiny apartment. Something that we can afford to pay in rent, while also carrying our mortgage. We'll all smash together.

Together. Together. Together.

We'll leave our beautiful home. And continue wearying the Lord with my constant plea that it will sell.

We'll leave our friends. Our family. Our lives as we know them. With a lot of tears and apprehension.

One week. Hardly long enough to remember everything -- and surely not long enough to even say goodbye to all those we love -- before we close up this chapter of our lives. The only life that two of our children have ever known and surely the only one that other two really remember. Before most of those we love will even have a chance to meet our new baby. The first place that was really HOME. Our home.

And we'll abandon it.

Not to move on to a new home, but just to move on. To a temporary place. Mostly without our things. Without our comforts. They'll stay here and we'll lock up the door and leave a key box for realtors and we'll just leave.

And if you can't tell, I'm really struggling with that concept. I feel like we're abandoning our lives.

And I'm terrified.

But.

We'll be together.

And as much anxiety as I have about leaving our home, I can't even fathom being apart from one another.

So right now, I don't know what the future holds. I'm not really making plans. I'm just doing what comes next.

I'm choosing to believe that "the Lord's hand is ever over me" and that HE has a plan. I don't know what it is -- and I'm sure going to put in some requests -- but I'm trying to learn how to put my fears and my future and my faith in HIS capable hands and enjoy the ride.

And praying that when this is all over, {instead of being smashed and dead at the bottom of the coming "drop"} we'll ride it out and eventually get off this crazy rollercoaster, take a huge breath for the first time in probably too long, and look around at each other saying, "That was . . . FUN. Right?!"

Clara Lettice Chick

My sweet little Clara is here and we are so, so happy. She is very alert, chubby, fuzzy, and has lots of beautiful brown hair.

Clara Lettice Chick

September 2, 2011

6:35 A.M.

9 lbs. 1 oz.

21 3/4 in.

Throughout this last month of pregnancy, as I've recorded several times, I'd had a lot of contractions. A week and a half ago when we went into the Birth Center, believing that the baby would be born that night (and then wasn't), the midwife said that I was completely effaced and she guessed that once I actually went into active labor, it would be very quick.

I continued to have off and on contractions throughout the next week. Mostly on. Last Monday night they started coming irregularly (anywhere from 4 to 13 minutes apart) and lasted for the next THREE days! Walking and everything else I did, didn't really speed them up or help regulate them and I was getting tired and frustrated. By Wednesday afternoon I called my midwife to ask for some insight or help. She told me to come in Thursday morning to the Birth Center and she would check to see how far along I was and give me some herbs that would help.

Thursday morning came and I was feeling very hopeful. It seemed that the baby had moved down even further and I had several appointments to keep me occupied and busy that day. As I was getting ready to head up to her office, she called to let me know that they currently had two other women potentially in labor and she just couldn't bring me in and intentionally induce active labor at that time. We would try again the next morning.

WAhhhh-ha-ha-ha!

I was sad. And I felt like this baby was never coming out. :) I really hate getting to this point in pregnancy. I hate knowing that I am acting like an idiot -- recognizing it -- and still feeling entirely the same. Having lost all willpower to control my emotions and thoughts. I was starting to be convinced that my body didn't know what it was doing and just wouldn't go into labor on it's own. --- Or that once it did, I'd be over my due date and getting ever closer to Nels leaving and starting work in Sandpoint.

The day finally ended and I went to sleep that night exhausted - knowing that I would be back up at 3:00 in the morning for my nightly ritual of having contractions on top of a full bladder, waking up, using the bathroom, and then not being able to fall back asleep before the same thing happened again.

Well, I did wake up just before 3:00. I used the bathroom and lay back down. A bit later, a REAL contraction came on. A good, hard, deep wave of a contraction that you don't sleep through. Nine minutes later, there was another one. During the contraction, I thought, maybe I should wake Nels, but then it was over and I decided I should just time them for a little while. Nine minutes later, at about 3:45, I changed my mind and we were both up. As soon as I stood up, they started coming closer together, but I still really didn't want to jump the gun - having already done that once before. So we slowly got dressed. Nels kept asking me what we needed, but I was so distracted within myself that I couldn't give him any clear direction. Poor boy. :)

I think I only had another two contractions before I decided that I should really call my midwife and my friend, Stefanie (to come over AGAIN to be with the kids). Michelle (midwife) grilled me on how close together the contractions were, but because I'd really not had that many, I couldn't give her much information. She made a few phone calls to set things up and called me back with instructions to meet her at the Birth Center in half an hour. Even in the small amount of time between me calling her and Michelle calling me back, the contractions had become closer together - ranging between 2 1/2 to 5 minutes. Between contractions, I kept worrying that I was rushing things again, maybe I shouldn't go in yet . . . but then another would come and remind me that we shouldn't be hanging out at home any longer. Bless Stefanie for sleeping with her phone next to her bed and being willing to come over at a moment's notice.

We arrived in Rigby at about 5:15 in the morning. The contractions were good and real, but I still had yet to really relax into any of them, having an underlying feeling that once I did, this baby was going to be here fast. Once getting there and getting set up, there was both relief to know that I could now actively encourage this little baby into the world and also a lot of apprehension. Having done this before, only 18 months ago, I remembered what was coming and I'm not going to lie and say that I wasn't scared. :)

But, trusting in the process, relax into them I did and it WAS fast.

I find labor really interesting. I find that who I AM during labor is really interesting. Some women love having lots of touching and support. Lots of encouragement. I am just not like that. And I'm glad that Nels is okay with me retreating into myself. It was really nice that once we got there, Michelle just kind of gave me my space and Nels laid down on the bed and everyone kind of just left me alone.

I walked around the room for a while, trying to decide if it was more productive for me to be on my feet or if I should go sit in the tub and just concentrate on the contractions. Eventually the lure of nice, hot water and not having to use all my other muscles to hold myself up won out and I got in the tub. I wish there'd been a clock handy, just for my own curiosity of how quickly things moved from then -- time seems to lose all meaning during labor -- but there weren't more than a few contractions in the tub before everything changed again and I could hear Michelle whisper to Nels that it wouldn't be much longer.

When it was time to push, I thought there was no way that what I could feel needed to happen, was actually going to happen. It is just the strangest thing to get to a point where you cannot describe how intense and uncomfortable you are and you know that the only way to get out of it, is to intentionally cause yourself more pain.

Right then both mine and Nels's alarms went off on our phones - letting us know that it was 6:30. :) Time to get the kids up for school. :) And I remember seeing through the window that the sun was just coming up. Little Clara came into the world quickly, but it was a LOT of work and even as I was doing it, I was yelling that I didn't want to do this. :) I remember with Violet, once her head was born, it seemed like the rest was just smooth sailing, but Clara was just . . . a lot of work.

In just over three hours from when the first contraction came, my little Clara was born and as soon as she was, I cuddled her up to me and admired our beautiful little baby -- with Nels just over my shoulder. She was healthy and perfect in every single way and Michelle kept saying what a big baby she was. -- But she didn't look very big to me. Just pink and beautiful. Everything was so calm and good. I don't know why I remember, but the song "Yellow" by Coldplay was playing. One of my favorite songs of all time. We took about half an hour to just sit there and hold our sweet little baby.

We got all cleaned up and once they finally weighed that little girl, she was 9 lbs. 1 oz!! My biggest baby by a pound and a half!!! No wonder pushing was harder with her than with Violet. :) She was also 21 3/4 inches! Such a cute little chububba! :)

Michelle and Me

We settled into bed, called our families, and fell asleep for a few hours -- long enough for Michelle to monitor that both Clara and I were stable and doing well -- and then mid-afternoon, we went home. It was perfect. So nice to come home to my own bed and my own shower. :)

It was just such a beautiful day.

I know a lot of people wouldn't want to do an out-of-hospital birth. I know a lot of people wouldn't want to do a natural birth. But for me, it's worked out to be such an incredible experience. I love feeling like . . . my body is doing what it was made to do. I love the process. I love the power that comes from doing something that seems beyond my ability to accomplish and coming out whole on the other side. There is truly a one-ness with God that comes as you hang that realm where this life and the next are threaded together. It's just really beautiful to me.

I'm just so thankful to be a mother.